Modena Cemetery

The design of the Modena cemetery is definitely heavily influenced by religion. Rossi’s intentions of establishing architecture as an authority are very apparent, and his tools of accomplishing this idea are certainly successful. Moneo, in his essay, claimed that Rossi had to adopt an elusive relation to broader urban technologies to protect the authority of architecture in the post-war city. To me, it seemed that Moneo was seeking the grounds to support Rossi, but the evidence of the contemporary city - the late 20th Century metropolis -made Rossi's propositions difficult to accept without stipulation.

Moneo's essay began a procedure of reconciling Rossi's theory and practice of architecture within a broader and ultimately more self-sustaining field, in this case the post-war city of Western Europe and the United States. In addressing the self-sustaining role of the metropolis itself, Moneo seemed reluctant to accept a project of architectural autonomy, and instead came close to proposing the autonomy of the metropolis as a monetary, governmental and power-laden instrument. In Rossi's work, architecture offered what Moneo termed a "fleeting glimpse" of the city achieved in the suspension of analytic technique. Architecture as memory, as time-image, allowed Rossi to conceive of architecture as permanent, limited and distinct, yet also relieved it of its relative and synthetic unity.

Powerful cemetery

Rossi’s theory and work are responsive to the modern architecture that had spread across the world to become known as the International Style. While this style was about simplicity, stripping down to the basics, and uniformity, Rossi’s desire was to bring back that lost quality of architecture that would capture meaning and awe the beholder. His Modena Cemetery does just that. When I look at it at first, I am discomforted because I cannot reach out and claim any of the forms or spaces as familiar property of my culture… or of my world. The color, the scale, the massing, all of it is unexpected, unrecognizable and disassociated with typical building functions. Then when I begin to think about as a city of the dead, I feel inspired and intrigued by the mystery of what lies beyond the frame. It definitely sets up a threshold condition; it is as if the solid orange mass is a gated wall barring any from entering, yet the smaller square openings suggest passage into a new space, one hidden from sight by the shadows. Such a bold monument opposes the light, airy, black and white forms of the International Style; it asks that we take a second look at architecture as something able to carry a weighty meaning and project a profound understanding that even words could not capture.

Typology from memory

"no type can be identified with a particular form, but all architectural forms can be referred to types."

Rossi's words shake a bit of artist's vanity out of me. Many architects, especially the young ones, aspire to become an artist, and within an artist's heart, there is an ambition to be original and revolutionary. Incorporation of a building typology into an architectural design puts a selfish reluctance in an artist's heart. It is thought to diminish the originality of a design. We are afraid that our plans will be too easily categorized and lose its novelty. Aldo Rossi's design method is not concerned with such immature worry. He embraces building typology. Through established typology he strives to create a place that is instinctively familiar. Its is not surprising such nostalgic architecture is produced by an Italian architect. Rich Roman architecture is powerful in a fundamental level, and any who grow up in a place so rich with history would come to love and miss the powerful presence of Roman atrium and Renaissance churches.

Construction through Time/History

The relationship Rossi brings up about "Construction of the city in time" caught my attention because even though we design with references to historical structures or using a historical structure as inspiration, I had not really thought of being able to link the past with the present in order to evoke a sense of nostalgia such as the cemetery does. The non-functional windows with no sills made it clear that the space was not meant to be used by the living and were there instead to add to the feel of abandonment as the article states. The idea of representing time through architecture in this manner seems interesting and I feel like Rossi was quite successful in this cemetery.

There are more recent buildings such as the Jewish Museum that relate to history and evoke a sense of remembrance but in a more dramatic manner. The cemetery is quite subtle in the way it portrays the passing of times and of he people that lived have lived during those times. The Jewish Museum in a way forces the past on you with the chaos and extreme spaces that greet you at every turn of the corner. In this case the building is independent of the city or its past. It is not constructed by history or time but by the existence of a short period in time, not by "its collective life, through memory" as Rossi states..

Typology and Memory

Architecture's relationship to the past is very difficult. For a long time, throughout the classical period, architecture changed very little, and when it did it tended to be very incremental. Therefore its relationship to the past was simple. However, as architecture has increased in complexity and innovation, its ties to the past have become more and more muddled. Finally, during the Modern Movement, these ties were purported to be severed completely. This was false. Architecture could not dissociate itself from the past, because our collective past defines us as human beings, and all of our thoughts, observations, and impressions are colored by it. All that could really be accomplished by severing ties with the past was to make architecture unintelligible.

I appreciated Moneo's discussion of Rossi here because he attacked the problem of history in a way that I believe is very meaningful. History is not a collection of facts, names, and dates from the past, although many have treated it as such. History's importance lies, as Moneo has said, in memory. History is what shapes cultural identity, and defines the essence of who we are. Therefore, I think a look at the memory of the past is critical to designing architecture that is intelligible and meaningful. The question is whether memory can be tapped into through typology, as Rossi believes. I believe it can, to an extent. There is more to the history of any place than the specific typology of a building within a given culture, but it can certainly provide a starting place for design. The problem arises when typology becomes limiting. Design must be more than simple adherence to a fixed typology. If typology is given too much importance, it can take over a building and make it generic, rather than meaningful. If it is given too little power, it becomes illegible and loses its presence. The key is to find a middle ground where a building's typology can be read, but where breaks from its typology give it interest, meaning, and a sense of self. It is also important to note that typologies are not fixed, but evolve as cultural memories change over time, as Moneo implies in his discussion of the evolution of the city. Therefore architecture is destined to change over time as it responds to these shifts, and a building's perception will always change in response to the times and the course of history.

Aldo Rossi – Analogical Architecture

For Rossi, “analogical thought is sensed yet unreal, imagined yet silent… and practically inexpressible in words.” I think I might have to agree that his architecture is “analogical.” Even as I was reading Moneo’s article I had to write simple equations to keep his ideas straight:
form and style = urban facts
city = image by politics through architecture
proportion = relationship of measures -> value
lives = rituals + customs + situations -> history
construction = relationship of elements -> architecture
autonomy of architecture = discipline, way of thinking as spatial order
a building = achievement of architecture
It’s as if Rossi had to develop his own meaning for these words in order to communicate his theory. I think this is pretty cool, but I think I might need to go the Modena Cemetery for me to like it…

Autonomous Discipline

There is a common ideology between everything we have read up to this point: "the idea that there [is] a specificity or a particular aspect of architecture which could allow it to be considered an autonomous discipline." The attempts to identify this aspect of architecture have been many and varied, and yet in my mind it remains as questionable and elusive today as it did back then. Aldo Rossi provides an interesting outlook on the subject, but his architecture, or at least the Modena cemetary, does not seem to follow his ideology on architecture as the construction of the city. Perhaps it is because we are not able to view it in context of the city, but nevertheless I think he was very successful in creating a "city for the dead." However illogical the idea of "the program of a desolate house" seems at first, it's presence is felt without eplanation or understanding. This metaphysical relationship between people and architecture and his decomposition of buildings to their essence reminds me of the ideology of Louis Kahn. Kahn was searching for the perfect expression of the same building typologies that were central to Rossi's rationalism; in both cases that which was closest to its essence; what a building "wants to be." Rossi's prioritization of form and complete disposal of detail, however, draws an enormous rift between the two comparable to their conflicting political ideologies.

The Theories of Aldo Rossi

Rossi campaigned for the elevation of the urban space as equally important as the architectural design. While his statements occasionally seemed a bit drastic, one phrase of Moneo’s stood out: “Building must become an urban fact.” This is true on many levels, including the one that he meant. He was referring to the ability of a building to address the value, meaning, and uses that the city required it to take on. It became a fact of the city, and it needed to become so interconnected with the fabric of the city that it became indistinguishable from the character of the urban space. It is obviously true on the most basic level, which is to say that once a building is built, it is part of the city. It is a call to the end of formalism, specifically of form for form’s sake. It is an understanding of the need for architecture to reach out to other ideas, whether the ideas of urban planning or of history and memory. This is one of those phrases that could truly be embodied in a design. The idea of focusing on the urban space, on the interactions with other buildings, is a very extroverted way of designing. In a way, it sacrifices what the building itself wants to be for the ability to create a better urban design. A good designer could combine the two ideas in a intriguing and successful way, but there is no doubt that a building will not be successful if it does not add, modify, support, reject, or otherwise respond to the urban fabric of its surroundings.

Applying his architectural concepts to the Modena Cemetery, one can clearly see the house of the dead, the collective memory of the lives of the dead, and the monumental quality of the space. All of these ideas were intentional, as they reflect his ideas as to what architecture should really be. As each new metaphor of the experience is presented, one can inquire as to the success of this method. Does architecture need such deep, metaphorical meanings in order to convey the sense of power found at the Modena cemetery? Many architects discuss successful buildings based on the program, the function, and the form. Rossi himself believed that construction was paramount to architecture. In the end, Moneo may have clarified the answer best: “Technique does not count, the essence of architecture is not found in technical matters.” If this is to be believed, then one must look for the deeper meaning, perhaps theoretical, philosophical, or sociopolitical depth that could bring a sense of importance to a space. This is not necessary only in the mundane works; it is necessary in all works of architecture. Rossi managed to express his ideas in ways that were not intellectual but rather subconscious, and his greatest success fell in this category. The meaning could be understood by everyone, perhaps not in words, but in experience. It is this meaning that transforms an experience from a walk-through to a moving experience.

Through the design of this cemetery, he also managed to advocate the usefulness of monumentality. Many architects despise this concept, feeling that it is wasteful and unnecessary. Rossi presented spaces that used the monumentality to their advantage. Rather than creating spaces that were simple, he created spaces to move people. Despite all of its shortcomings, the dramatic impact of the monument is something not to be forgotten. Monuments in their very nature recall the memories of the past and connect the events to the present. It is no wonder that monuments and memorials are such widely visited tourist attractions. Something about the monumentality of the space is moving; it allows the occupant to experience, remember, and understand. Such moments can be used carefully in architecture to create similar moments of clarity, provided the monumental nature is strictly regulated. It may be easy for such designs to get out of hand, but they should not be dismissed. The compelling quality of a monument should be harnessed by designers in the same way that Rossi harnessed the effects in the Modena Cemetery.

Neo-Rationalist Theory

I found Moneo's essay to be quite a read. As most theorist, he rant and rants rants, but not in a bad way. I think Rossi definitely is a move away from the norm. I can see how Rossi's architecture can be considered rationalist, after all, he has a way of putting everything in order in the most thoughtful of ways. Rossi's use of the word "typology" is used in the most interesting of ways, as he uses it to set up his set of rules, which he will follow to the tee. I'm not very familiar with Rossi's work and I will not go on about it in long sentences, but I did manage to look up some of his work and found, to my amusement, that his tenet of using the city as a means to direct the design is very prominent. I can see why one would want to use such a tenet, specially in a country with so much history and culture as Italy, but I feel that this complicates things quite a bit. It seems that many of his designs were modern versions of the old monuments of Italy. It was as if he remade the pantheon to look more modern. His use of very symmetrical lines along the plans and facades are very reminiscent of older times, but I don't feel that they are very effective for leading architecture into a new direction. I can definitely see why his work is considered rational, as the designs are very strict, simple, and well thought out, specially in the Modena Cemetery. However, I do find them to be quite bland and too symmetrical, to the point where its just frustrating. It reminds me of a person with o.c.d. I might be biased, as are many people, but I do find that Rossi is a much better theorist than he is an architect. His ideas are solid and very thought out, mainly because the city is a very important part of what we, as architects, are trying to make better, or at least take in the direction that is best. But I definitely don't think that by basing architecture on the already available monuments, we can achieve a better architecture. Instead, I believe that leaving those monuments alone, using them for ideas, and creating something that will make them better is a more plausible way to go. I want to move forward into what could be, not what can we use to make it be.

Rationalist Theory

My understanding of Aldo Rossi’s principles for architecture is that he doesn’t believe in a set form for a specific use, but he does believe in using forms which we know and are common for functions which they are suited. Therefore while his Modena Cemetery appears surrealist and therefore not rationalist, his forms are used in such a way that they suit the purpose of a cemetery. His idea that architecture is a discipline autonomous of sculpture and painting seems to be a direct criticism of architects who build according to form and solely for compositional aesthetics.

Invisible Cities by Calvino also spoke of cities whose existence lie mainly in memories, but I’m not sure if Rossi means the same as Calvino. To me, Rossi seems to see cities in our memories as a type, but what actually results in a city in the physical form will inevitably vary or not fulfill the type fully. Still, according to Rossi, a city’s meaning changes through time as its meanings and relationships to its surroundings and its inhabitants change. Calvino also wrote about that same principle, in which different people sees different things in the city. They’re roughly contemporaries, and both worked in Italy, so I wonder if they knew and influenced each other.

I think Rossi has a very romantic view of what architecture is, despite his method being called rationalism. Still, I think using common forms in a different way is very appropriate in the case of Modena Cemetary, because it creates a sense of displacement, initial, confusion, and alienation.

In "Architecture as Space," Bruno Zevi's defines space (in four-dimensions) as the exclusive consideration of architecture. I think he is really addressing a broader scheme, which correlates with teachings from Suprematism, that architecture, along with every other creative discipline, contains a unique quality inherent to their discourse. There is a unique abstract quality that makes architecture, one that is essential, and Zevi defines it as space. Simultaneously, he acknowledges the importance of archeoligical and philological study in the practice of architecture, but along with their boundaries to enrich the essential idea. In "Production of Space," the motion for new content is dominant but develops from the need for new form. Heneri Lefebvre encourages a constant, changing, inexhaustible dialog between context and form, which resonates with Malevich's call for constant change. And now in comparison of the two former articles, the junction between space and concept is what Bernard Tchumi deems the pleasure of architecture, found in the relationships between constituent parts.

Space in Architecture

I definitely agree with Zevi that when producing orthographic drawings you cannot really know the true space that the building will create. From my own experience, for example drawing elevations, I get caught up in trying to create an aesthetically pleasing composition with the mullions, materiality, etc, yet in reality the elevation may be covered by trees or an undulating landscape, etc. I also find it difficult to know how space will look in the interior of a building when drawing a plan because the scale of one person vs a crowd of people will change the feeling of the space. It is necessary to be able to show how space will be occupied in a given project and that is what the client wants to see, thats why you see so many computer renders today.

Creating a flow of space in architecture is incredibly important and can give a building a recognizable identity. One can manipulate space to create a certain mood or bring out a particular emotion in the occupant. I think Steven Holl and Tadao Ando do this very well where their spaces can create a calm feeling and are able to flow easily from one room to the next. I think modern architecture has tried to allow a building to define a more open space and not creating small individual partition walls that don't really relate to one another.

Architectural Space

It was very satisfying reading Zevi’s article about space as the protagonist of architecture. He gave the most cogent criticism of mainstream architectural discourse I have ever read. I greatly appreciated the fact that he pointed out that the purpose of architecture is not its relationship to some perceived socio-cultural-historical context. Architecture is about building and spacemaking, and should be judged by the success or failure of that space. This, to me, encapsulates my belief that architecture should not need justification, a theme I seem to be coming back to more and more. A building succeeds or fails on what is built and has physical form. As is made apparent in the excerpt from The Oneiric House, buildings are ultimately to be inhabited, and in both Zevi’s and my own opinion, the spatial character of a building is ultimately the most important factor in determining the experience of inhabitation. Tschumi’s article, in contrast to Zevi’s did not strike a chord with me at all. I was irritated and angered by his characterization of architecture as having value through uselessness. Certainly, a building should be pleasing, but that pleasure comes from a function that is given shape and form and made pleasurable. I would not even characterize art as useless. I would say that something useless could only be called trash, and celebrating uselessness seems to me to be reveling in decay.

Happy Candy Day!

I want to pose a question: What is it that makes a particular space more than just a space? What qualities exactly are necessary to go beyond the engineering of a shelter, and to achieve true architecture? For me this means a space that I notice; I don’t know if anyone has realized this, but I am not naturally observant. I will not observe architecture at all unless it has that special quality that catches my attention. Otherwise, I just use the spaces I inhabit within their functions and do not look for any higher experiences. Larry always said that people notice architecture, but David always said that people just don’t pay attention to it. I don’t know whether one of these is more generally true, or whether it has to do with people’s personalities. But my question is should our goal be to create an architecture that adheres so perfectly to people’s needs that they do not even notice it? Or is our goal to cause people to stop in their tracks, to forget their original purpose, to gaze and to enjoy? In my own experience, I like the spaces that cause me to slow down and to observe, and I think this could be needed in the bustling American society. If not, I feel that we are just settling for the ordinary; yes, people can function well enough in unnoticed spaces, but what if well is not good enough? I think people are so tired with the monotony of their days, getting up at the same time every morning, going through the same motions day after day, that they are just waiting for something exciting to happen. They are longing for the extraordinary.

So back to the original question: How does one create a space that has that quality about it that takes it to a new level? Does it require a composition that is surprising or unexpected? Does it have to do with the materials and their relationships to each other? Is it caused by generating awe through scale, through mass, through color? Is it the way things meet and join together? Or is it the relationships between multiple spaces and the entirety of progression through them? All I have to say is, spacey people need racy spaces. Bring on the zest and vigor!

I love Space!!!... lol

Thinking of space is one of my favorite areas of architecture. I know its not the only design factor but i believe it is one of he most important because without space there is no architecture, instead you'd have a sculpture. The idea of planes creating spaces drives me crazy. I can almost relate to Tchumis' analogies when I think of having four walls, two pairs perpendicular and running parallel to one another, running by each other and coming close but never touching, forming a space in the center with secondary spaces in between. Just the thought makes me want to build a model of it. Why a model? Because drawings although accurate and representational can only show and exhibit so much.

Plans, sections, and perspectives are crucial during the design process because without these items we would have no way of quickly representing the space we imagine other than models. Considering that they play such a large role in the process of design why is it that these items tend to be such a cripple when it comes to designing a great space? A better question might be why is it that we as architects allow these drawings to cripple our designs?

Space should be experienced and not seen but sometimes it seems like people see it the other way around. A painting is meant to be looked at and admired. A sculpture is meant to do the same. Architecture is something you experience and admire because of the experience. When architecture becomes something you admire because its pretty and you just want to sit across the street to look at it, then it has lost its meaning; it has become a sculpture, a piece of artwork lacking any space. Even though there is spaceless architecture I believe space is the essence of a good architectural experience. Space is experience...

Defining Space through Architecture

A definition of architecture as only that which encloses space is not entirely accurate. The author seems to take the position that if there is not a definite interiority to the space, or definite thresholds, then this is not an actual space. Thus, an arch is not a space. He attempts to clarify by pointing out urban spaces and courtyards as architectural. An arch may not enclose space, but it creates relationships to space that cannot be ignored. These relationships alter experience, define inhabitation, and create circulation patterns. A façade defines the space that it faces. It would appear that an architectural backdrop should define space based on its presence. This is not to say that anything is architecture; architecture still needs to define space, but it should not need to enclose space. Any object used in a spatial means could be perceived as architecture if it does more than function as an obstacle or sculpture. An object that fundamentally alters a space, even if that space is exterior or defined only on one side by the object, should be considered architecture. This is why a façade is truly important to architecture; it does not contribute to the interior but it does often create space on the exterior.

With that said, it does seem reasonable to admit that too little time is spent analyzing the spaces created by architectural moves. These spaces should not be the end all and be all of architecture, nor does the author want them to be. He does, however, want it to be the prime factor for determining if a building should be considered in architectural history. Any failure to create space should be considered non-architecture, and any building that succeeds spatially should have its other flaws overlooked. It is a bit ridiculous to weigh a building so heavily on one fact, even if it is the point of architecture, that if the building fails in every other aspect it will still be considered worthy of discussion as architecture. He chooses to leave all other forms of discussion to the artists, but these are important for architects to consider. Architects should think about what he refers to as decoration to determine if and where the building requires such detailing. Architecture can focus on interior space without relegating all of its other responsibilities to other areas. It just seems like this viewpoint oversimplifies architecture for the sake of making the case for interior space. Perhaps it would be a stronger case to acknowledge the importance of such other factors on the interior space. Decoration might improve or detract from the spatial qualities, but it will definitely have an impact. It is impossible to include something in a design and expect it not to affect the final outcome. Therefore, space is important, but its relationships to other aspects of design should not be minimized or overlooked.

Henri Lefebvre agrees with the holistic interpretation of space, and his understanding of the variables that create a space is much closer to defining the actual entity. Since every element does in fact impact a space, it is only logical that the elements should be discussed with as much intensity as the space they form. His point that the interpretation of a space is more of an afterthought is especially powerful. To think that all discussion of spaces in the realm of architecture amounts to so little would probably upset many professors. Given the wide range of interpretations for any given space, it is just as easy for a space to have no intended interpretation. If the space included the proper architectural elements, it could evoke such strong emotion that each person would create his own interpretation, conscious or otherwise. The obvious antithesis to this idea is the monument, but with the great discouragement against monuments in contemporary architecture, the examples of interpretations key to understanding a space are becoming rarer. The methods of creating space, while discussed in detail, are almost less important than the result. If a location results in meaningful, inhabitable space, then the designer may have succeeded. It becomes more important to establish the methods and criteria to determine how successful a space is. If space is really a language, then it will enjoy the same treatment of the critics that all great novels receive: scrutiny to the point of picking through superfluous information. If space is something unique, perhaps it can develop a sense of critique that evaluates its ability to create an impression as a whole.

Spaced Out...

I really like the emphasis on the idea of space in these readings. I definitely agree that reducing a building to a bunch of plans, elevations, and sections, sucks out the essence of the design. Architects sometimes forget that these are merely design tools to help aid the process of design and construction, and should not be the basis of a design. In today’s money driven world, a major chunk of the firms use the ‘copy-paste’ technique of designing buildings – draw a section in Autocad, and simply repeat the units throughout the height of the building. The idea of forming space that is more user/activity specific seems to be lost. We seem to live in an illusion that architecture is just about shelter, when it’s obviously much more than that. The space formed by four walls can have radical effects on the users - their behavior, mood, health etc.

What I really like about ‘space’ is it’s really lose, fluid character. A mere door forms the seam between my bedroom space and my living room space. A small step (grade change) can create an entirely different space and evoke a different response. Even light and dark can define spaces. This very character of space has always intrigued me.

Following up on our intense discussion about the decontructivists, I would like to throw some light on the topic from a spatial perspective. I feel that those architects are definitely examples of people who sometimes forget the value of the interior space in order to enhance the exterior, aka ‘architecture’ of the building. We as future architects need to understand the idea of complexity in simplicity, and make sure that the spaces we generate are responsive to their users.

Spooky Scary

Aldo Rossi’s Modena Cemetery is a direct reflection of the geometries and architectural trends in the city of Modena. It captures the orthogonal nature of the city blocks as well as the shapes and shadows of the buildings. By emphasizing these aspects while still bringing a hint of modernity to the project, it keeps it relevant yet true to its roots in the city. An interesting point the article brings up is the issue of place. Place gives identity and individuality. The reference to place in this project is very specific and it would not fit as well in any other city, thereby bringing in a sense of architectural honesty, not to be confused with honesty in construction terms. Furthermore, the cemetery is very meditative and introspective; exactly what one would expect a cemetery to be. The clean lines and lack of adornment are reflective of a current style; the buildings are not trying to be something they are not.
This so called “neo-classicism” seems to me to be about monumentality and modernity combined. Is that right? I’m always unclear on what actually creates a specific style. The “House of the Dead” creeps me out because it looks like an abandoned office building that was hollowed out; very somber. It’s almost as if the cemetery itself is a corpse without life; all the guts have been taken out and all that’s left is the empty shell. Happy Halloween, huh?

Space and Meaning

I like the way the last three articles reconsidered space. Since we are educated in a modern-minded school, I think we might take for granted the idea that we are to design space for people to live in when we create architecture. I really like the idea that our view of architecture is incomplete without considering the quality of space it shapes. I do feel like I sometimes describe architecture like I would describe “a painting by giving the dimensions of its frame, calculating the areas covered by the various colors and then reproducing each color separately.” (I think this exercise would be quite fitting for our semester. lol) In learning all of the details that go into making architecture I hope that I don’t forget the importance of the space I am making.
I also liked how Lefebvre spoke of the way we talk about “reading” architecture. I would agree that there may be a “reader” who can “decode” and a “speaker” who can “express,” but there is not a “reading” of a space with one specific message. I think this point continues our semester long conversation about the audience of architecture. As architects we can try to implant so much “meaning” in a building for other architects to dissect all the while leaving any other visitor clueless and uninvolved. But I think Lefebvre would agree that it is in fact the inhabitant, educated in architecture or not, who makes and takes away their own meaning just as “space is at once the result and the cause, product and producer.” This might be the compromise of our opinions: no matter how intentionally readable or functional a space may be, only each user can decide its meaning?

Space...The Final Frontier

It is quite ironic that we have come so far as to disregard space as the product of our designs. Wasn't that the purpose of architecture in the first place? To create spaces for people to use and live? We don't seem to think about what the space is going to feel like, or if we do, we have a hard time trying to put it into words or drawings for that matter. Much like in Space-A Protagonist of Architecture. Maybe we are stuck in a rut and form is more important than function. I do recall, specially around the time of our desk crits or reviews, how people always say what they want the place to be, or what they want it to do, but no one ever talks about the space itself. Not very many people would describe, or can describe, the exact feeling or visual that the space has to offer. Who knows, maybe I'm paying attention to the wrong people?! But I do think that it is an important part of architecture. Consequently, not all spaces are going to look the same, or feel the same, and there should always be grounds to make sure that what we are trying to do as architects does not fall flat or miss out on the meaning. Therefore, I do think that Bachelard makes a good point, which also makes it a bad point. Yes, high rise buildings are not exactly a home, and they don't involve the same kit of parts that a home does, but that doesn't necessarily make them bad. If we put this into the context of suburbia, then the point comes across as moot. Not only that, but it also depends on what part of the country you live in, because not very many homes in Texas have a basement. I understand that he is in France and that it's a nostalgic point of view, written in 1948 no less, but in today's world, it's not that relevant. Not very many people have seen their basements, or attics for that matter, so how does on describe those types of feelings? I can vouch for these people. I've never really been to a basement, and the only attic that I've been to as not as interesting as Bachelard makes you believe it is.

Theory of Space

Space-Protagonist of Architecture and Bernard Tschumi’s The Pleasure of Architecture both outline the problems of transcribing architecture onto paper. Since we rarely if ever see the façades of buildings as in elevations, nor do we experience buildings only in plans or sections, the architecture of a building can never be truly experienced except in the built form. These series of articles are very useful in outlining the problems of analyzing and understanding architecture, since space, the primary concern of architecture, cannot be experienced in anyway except in the physical built form. Space-Protagonist of Architecture is especially effective in delineating the unconscious yet necessary and fundamental yet not the sole aspect of architecture: the internal space of a built structure and the play of relationships between elements in an urban landscape. The article in its conclusions defines three types of what might be considered architecture today: non-architecture which are entities in themselves without interior space, a built space with a badly defined interior space but whose decorations are works of art, and a built space with a pleasing interior as well as complementary decorations. I think example for this third example, which is the only case in which some built structure is considered architecture, might include Chartres, the Hagia Sophia, and the Pantheon. Architecture, then, is only a built structure which has successfully integrated space with its decorative elements. This is a very high standard for architecture, but one which I feel is appropriate. If Bernard Tschumi’s argument that architecture’s importance lies in part on its ‘pleasurable uselessness’, then architecture should be a very well made and awe-inspiring ‘useless’ experience. I think Tschumi’s argument has merit because by arguing for the pleasure which architecture can elicit, then we as architects are set to a higher standard. If we can forever argue that it’s practical and therefore necessary, then there are other aspects of architecture, like craftsmanship, attention to detail, and thoroughly thought out progression and space, which can be excused, no matter how awful they turn out to be.

Details in Architecture

I definitely agree with Gregotti, Frascari and Frampton that details make up the particular architectural language and show how the project was constructed and carried out. First off details can be compared to ornament in classical architecture, yet details are the minimal essence of the tectonics in architecture. I think it takes time for one to really appreciate the significance in details and how specific joints are composed together. After practicing architecture or even studying design for a while, you can approach a building and begin to identify a hierarchy of structural details as well as transitions of materiality and the joint work involved in building the building. Technology, as Frascari said, plays a large part in details too, where certain construction methods will evolve and therefore can be identified in a project.

The authors suggested that in contemporary architecture, details have been lost and are not accounted for like they were with Mies, Kahn, and Scarpa. I think that many kind of commercialized architects have lost this aspect in detailing properly because the craft in drawing and communicating these ideas takes great time and skill which can be forgotten or dismissed when rushed. Renzo Piano, Patkau architects and more have stayed loyal to detailing properly and you can see it right away in their buildings.

Tectonic architecture

Much of ideas of tectonic architecture seem to demand a serious reconsideration of the origins of building, its humble beginning as a shelter to keep the rain out and warmth in. True, many of today’s architecture seems to have lost its fundamental goal of providing shelter. Many of futuristic designs, when built, leak or gets too hot. Identity of an architect as a builder is gradually forgotten, and argument between engineers and architects become louder and louder. Building should function before it is beautiful, and often its functionality is what many find most beautiful.
But still, there is a thirsty need for architecture for it to be more than a shelter. With injection of additional meaning, shelter becomes architecture, a product of culture and expression of thought. Tectonic architecture seems to argue that buildings should remain a building. According to the articles, expression of construction is the greatest poetry in architecture. In a way, their argument chain architecture to the ground.
Avant-garde architects and tectonic architects seems to be standing at an opposite ends of the spectrum. Both arguments seem equally powerful. Futurist seek to violently push the possibilities upward, while tectonics seek to build a firm foundation.

Primacy of Detail

I find it interestering that the catalyst of detail sprung from the evolution of the carpet wall. The solid walls we know today began as an artistic notion that injected materials traditionally used for functions other than art. When these materials where assembled into structural members, artistic renderings where applied that maintained the essential meaning of walls to delineate space. Recognition of the carpet wall was lost when the art ceased to be applied and evolved into the articulation of the structural member with details. And yet, when details arise from the adoration of structural joints, they resonate with the assemblage of carpet weaving. The metaphysical joints that exist between structural members are a function of our mind that draws relationships between recognizable constituencies. If architecture is a discipline of space-making, then the carpet wall and essentially the detail are integral in making space.

DETAILS!

I agree with the author that tectonics is of utmost importance in architecture. I remember sophomore year having an epiphany that most of the architecture that I observed to be good or beautiful had its strength in the details. It was almost overwhelming realizing this because before that point, I thought it was all about the form, and I felt like that was all I had been taught to design. Detail is not something we can figure out and slap on at the end. To have a true expression of tectonics, it has to be more grassroots, taking details and structural information, and emerging a form in conjunction. Thus, I felt that I had to start from scratch and redevelop my personal designing methods. This was quite the adventure last semester.

I agree with Jeff that many of our models and past work have neglected the details altogether. This is why I believe we should be cautious with our use of the laser cutter. I am very much pro-build-by-hand because this the closest we can get to understanding the part that tectonics plays in putting a building together. And also to be honest, many of our models that look good as models, including my own, would look dry and cold if they were built because we are not thinking in terms of human scale. (Not that I’m against the laser cutter altogether; when used reasonably, it’s a great tool.) I think Louis Kahn is a good example of someone who had a strong formal language, and at the same time was a master of details. Just thinking about the Kimball, I cannot get over the composition of majestic vault-like forms coming to their load points with intricate, detailed joints.

Beauty in Tectonics

It is ironic to read about tectonics now in the context of our class this semester because I wrote my Survey 3 paper on Mies’ and Loos’ theory and use of tectonics. I never found Mies or Loos to have given credit to Semper for their ideas, but I can definitely see the possibility of their having known about Semper. The bottom line is that they all agree: architectural beauty (and higher meaning) is in the details of tectonics. Mies achieved this with incredible structural detail with steel and glass; Loos with detailed joints between volumes and materials. It seems like the theorists we read from this week would agree with either of these techniques. All of these writers (as do many contemporary architects) agree that greater appreciation and meaning can be found in buildings that express their structure and making. These details remind us of their building’s built-ness; they cannot allow thoughtless inhabitation.

detail

I appreciate and agree with most said on the topic of details and tectonics. Semper says it best when commenting on if we should decide to again build Greek temples: “That would be a terrible misfortune!” I agree that architecture should serve its purpose and a wall should be a wall. But then what makes good architecture? This makes architects unnecessary if people just build what they need. All we would need is builders. Perhaps the answer is in the details. How things connect and how things are made. I suppose there is a reason architects look at the vernacular and draw so much meaning and use out of it. However, an architect can not just build the vernacular. There is “the need of the return of the architectural detail to [the] guiding concept.” I really agree with Frascari in seeing the detail as the generator of meaning: “The fertile detail can also be seen as an aesthetic expression of structure and use” and that a “detail or joint can impose its order on the whole.” Many of the articles go back and reference Scarpa and Wright. Both of which have amazing details, but their details go beyond just that of joinery. Details most certainly influence the design as a whole and respect the materials used. However, in this day and age, their styles and attention to detail could possibly be seen as excessive and over ornamented. An attention to materiality and detail is something lacking in today’s architecture which is dominated by big box buildings with faux façades, and a return to this mindset could be beneficial for the role of architects. However, it needs to be done in a manner appropriate to current materials and design practices.

Tectonics and Detail

These articles were quite different from all the ones that preceded them. Before, all the articles were about grand, overarching architectural theory. This, by contrast, was about the smallest unit of architecture, the detail. Despite this, the writers elevated the detail to extreme importance, treating it as the most important part of a design. To a great extent, I believe they are correct to do so. In a survey of the accepted great architects of past and present, nearly all are highly proficient if not masterful at the art of the detail. Details are certainly more noticeable in a design than the systems architects use to make buildings supposedly coherent. You could even say that detail architects design for the sake of the inhabitants, while some of the "starchitects" currently practicing design for the photographers and magazines.

An unfortunate truth is that details have been quite neglected in our design classes at school. This is not on purpose, exactly. I'm sure you wouldn't find a single one of our design professors who thought they were unimportant. However, as a simple question of time, details necessarily get left out because we don't have a chance to resolve them. Furthermore, they don't really matter in our reviews, because the models and drawings we show are typically not at a large enough scale for details to be visible anyway. I'm afraid this could be what leads some architecture to look like massively expanded models, with little or nothing to provide fine visual interest, and no real engagement at the human scale.

All of this said, I am not willing to credit everything in the articles. For example, Semper's discussion of the wall as an evolution of the carpet seems arguable even on a historical basis. More importantly though, I don't believe for a minute that there is a cultural memory of "carpet walls" that should be taken into account when designing walls. I think he has gotten lost in his own metaphor and carried it beyond any possible meaning.

I also don't believe the reasons Frampton gives for the justification of architectural detail. First off, I'm distrustful any time someone speaks of "justifying" design. Only bad architecture needs justification. Good architecture justifies itself. In any case, the visible architectural detail is not the structural imperative that Frampton describes it as. In most cases there are many simpler ways to make a joint function. A good detail is expressive and, in a sense, artistic. It is not concerned first and foremost with construction, even when it is trying to express construction. Buildings that show their structure are invariably more difficult and expensive to build due to the work required to make the exposed structure aesthetic.

This doesn't mean that details are unjustified, it merely means that when they're done well they need no outside justification. The reason they are so rarely challenged, far from their constructional necessity, is that they are small. If you don't like one, you can simply not look at it. In criticism, it is extremely time-consuming to form and state an opinion about every detail, so they are generally given a pass. Finally, in my opinion, a client probably will not have time to address every detail in a project. Essentially, details, good and bad, usually slip through the cracks and are never critiqued. In the end, though, I would say that even a badly detailed building will in most cases be better than an undetailed building. Even a bad detail will still add visual interest, human scale, and a sense of craft, that cannot help but improve a project.

Tectonics as Architectural Expression

The authors’ defense of tectonics seems to be a strange one. Whereas Semper seems to be more in favor of using materials in ways that nature would intend, many of the other authors seem to be taking a much more shallow perspective. Tectonics is considered a means of detailing a building as much as anything else. In its fundamental core, tectonics as an expression of structure needs to be something deeper than a detail. It needs to be something that can be perceived at any and all levels of the architectural work, not merely at the smallest levels of meaning. All of the authors seem to agree that tectonics as a means of architectural expression is more powerful than ornament. If it is truly so much more powerful, it should not be described as something to be applied. In some of the arguments, such as the ones describing Carlo Scarpa, it seemed to be a contradiction of terms. The tectonics were in the details, so the details were of supreme importance. He walked around the site with a flashlight in order to focus only on the details, and not on the architectural work as a whole. If this is all true, the tectonic expression sounds to be as much an afterthought that is determined during the construction of the building as it is something that he planned on his drawings. How meaningful can a means of expression be if it is applied in a seemingly whimsical manner? With this said, it is important to note that the connections created through this means of expression were in fact powerful as details in a building. It is certainly better detailed than many other buildings, but it remains that detailing a building seems a strange way to express a concept.

The best explanation for these statements seems to arrive at the origin of the statements themselves. The works are all based on the writing of Semper, who wrote in the mid-nineteenth century, shortly before the Arts and Crafts movement began in England. Something like a detailed joint would be praised in the architectural culture of his society, so it is possible that this means of thinking heavily influenced his writings. Most of the later authors were speaking against postmodernism as much as for tectonics, and so it makes sense that they would focus on the details. They were frustrated with the way architecture was heading and wanted to make some sort of radical change. By campaigning for the expression of tectonics through details, it effectively cancels out the large number of decorated sheds and deconstructive forms that arise for form’s sake. Instead, it would bring architecture back into the realm of art, back into the realm of something that must be assembled by skilled craftsmen. This type of thinking was summarized best by the quote from Kahn:

“The joint is the beginning of ornament
And that must be distinguished from
decoration which is simply applied.
Ornament is the adoration of the joint.”

This clearly summarizes the view of tectonics as detail and ornament, which seems to be the location to which it was relegated in many of the articles.

One must not forget that Semper did indeed create some of the more compelling arguments for tectonics, which do not all involve the use of tectonics merely as detail. He felt that any applied content should overtake the original meaning of the object. He wanted material choice to suit the climate and material interventions to suit the character of the building. He felt that tectonic perfection a goal to work for. This portion of his writing seems much more applicable to a more traditional view of tectonics; that is, tectonics would be the whole focus of the construction, rather than merely the applied detail at the end. It is no wonder Semper is the original writer, for the other articles seem to do little more than echo his arguments in regards to the authors’ personal dilemma with the current architecture. Tectonics as a whole is certainly a form of architectural styling with great merit, for rather than focusing on something mundane, it returns to the idea of using materials how the materials should naturally be used. One would not use wood in tectonics to defy gravity in an unnatural way, but any means of using wood that was joined with great craft and therefore withstood its architectural purpose would be deemed acceptable. This architectural theory seems to embed a great deal of meaning into architecture without overwhelming the building or forcing the building into solely one mode of expression. Even when only seen in the details, it adds to the local meanings of the building, and the combined effect of such details can result in a meaningful whole. Therefore, tectonics is more broadly applicable than most theories, which is probably the reason that so many architects have skillfully employed it.

Tectonics and Semper

According to Semper, the carpet or some kinds of textile were the first delineation of space, and stone and the materials we mostly use today were merely put up to protect us from the elements and dangers and not the true originators of space. According to him, people decorate textiles and walls in the tradition of textile decoration or some derivative of it as a subconscious affirmation of the rug as delineator of space. Yet I feel that in a way the opposite could be argued. After all, in medieval castles carpets were put on stone walls to provide warmth and to muffle sound. So in that way the textiles weren't delineators of space but instead were in the supporting role. Nevertheless, whether or not textiles were the initial tools used to delineate space shouldn't stop us from attempting to evolve better methods. I certainly agree that some aspects of architecture can be shallow and superficial, and that material can be misused of overused at the expense of other architectural aspects. However, I don't agree that a trend back towards making walls in the same character as textiles is the answer.
The first few articles allude to Semper in their talk of tectonics and the joint as giver of meaning. I understand and agree with their premise that the joint, as the connection between elements and materials, can evolve with the architecture as an integral part. I think in that Semper sees the hearth as most important and therefore transfers a spiritual primacy to architecture there is a connection to what these architects are saying. However, while they may agree that textiles could possibly be the first materials used to define space and architecture, I don't see in works like those by Scarpa a return to referencing textiles and the two dimensional that Semper was advocating.

The Relation of Details to Tectonics

As I have understood tectonics, it is the emphasis of the construction of the building rather than the form or program. I think this is one of the most beautiful techniques in architecture. Bringing this overarching scheme that essentially is the building and everything that surrounds the user down to the level of the observer is a way of involving said observer in the process of making the space. Tectonics brings the complex structural systems down to the level of the masses. Rather than hiding the systems and “keeping secrets” from the user, tectonics expound upon their meaning and explain the building clearly. Details within tectonics are what make this explanation beautiful and transcendental. Showing a steel grid can be ugly, but what makes it beautiful is how it relates to all the spaces in the program and unifies them all under one theme.
This has been my favorite read so far. I now have a deeper understanding of the relation of details at a large scale to those at a small scale. It’s funny that architecture must have its own definition of “details” in order for the use of the word to make sense.

Underlying Issues in Tectonics

I've always thought of details as minuscule and crafty. And although I know that not all details are minuscule, it just seems to bring to mind those two words. I do not necessarily believe that a detail informs the whole design, on the contrary, I believe that it is a byproduct of the design, a means to make the design "prettier," per say. I do think that they arise from the construction process, they are a means to underline that fact, or better yet to make one aware of the construction process. For example, looking at the columns of an old japanese temple, and the joints that hold the wooden beams, one is aware that wood is stacked on top of each other to create a joint that cantilevers, to a point, and that creates a beautiful detail. Now, do those details inform the whole building? No, it is merely a byproduct of the construction process. It would be rather odd if the building were to look like detail, all stacked on top of each other. There is, however, another way to look at this. If we were to look at the building as separate details, in other words, make each piece or each room a detail of the whole design, then that would constitute something completely different. That detail would inform the design process as well as the design aesthetics and flow of the building. Because now you are looking at the design as a whole, and not putting details on as secondary, or tertiary characteristics that arose from the construction process. If we were to make each room, each hallway, each entrance, and each window a detail, then that would add on another characteristic that would change the role of detail, because now you have to mesh everything together into a cohesive whole. No longer is the detail just a characteristic, but a whole idea. You can now worry about the joints and how they will be put together to create the design. That is a way in which a detail decide everything.

Deconstructivist Distopia

Disjunction as an aim for architectural work is sketchy when applied to a scale of city scape. Deconstructivist works of today by architects like Peter Eisenman, Daniel Libeskind, or Zaha Hadid are interesting as individual objects. Their novelty fuels discussion and excitement, but novelty fades with repetition, and what is left is the object itself. Already some are growing bored of Libeskind's work, and same goes for Ghery's trademarked architecture.
Ideas of deconstruction apply dynamism, through time and space. When current deconstructivist language become the dominant form of the world, new decontructivists will seek to disassociate from their predecessors' form. This mindset will bring forth a vicious cycle of disassociation, and how long will it take for even newer group of deconstructists to roll in and try to achieve their predecessors' goal? Building form will be in a constant destabilizing flux. That vision combined with the idea of "art that is constantly in the present" creates a nagging concern. In the ever changing deconstrutivist environment, we will be living constantly nostalgic of last year. To deal with this disequilibrium, are we to be constantly forgetful? To me, Deconstructivist theories paint a distopian future.

deconstructivism

My understanding of Deconstructivism is somewhat superficial due to my sole exposure to the theory through Gehry, Hadid, Lebeskind and the like, and will be significantly improved upon through discussion. The first point made by Benedict that really resonated with me, and began the theme of contradiction is that “the fullness of Nature- which includes human nature an language- exceeds language’s capacity to report on Her” was a nice affirmation that there is no way to fully explain anything. I feel this is incredibly significant when speaking of architecture because we can do so much talking and theorizing and criticizing about architecture, but I feel that ultimately there is no substance unless it is experienced. Moving to the explanation of Derridean concepts, différance is a complicated term and though it has multiple meanings, the idea that something can not exist without its opposite was very interesting. Most significantly the contemplation of glass, its “presence/absence”, and meaning in architecture really resonated with me. Also the following observation about students asked to create a cube:
“But the lesson leaned is always this: the cubes closest to extinction, the ones most minimally indicated or most intensely undermined, questioned, or obliterated, had greatest presence. The held our interest and were really there. But the ones most declaratively formed, most sharply set and materially present wer nice by babal by comparison, to the point of effective invisibility: absence.”
This I feel is a principle at the base of deconstructivism. Am I wrong? Perhaps a bit superficial, but this passage is has much to do with what I see in the theory.
Now we move even further into contradiction, which I understand but makes me slightly uneasy. I understand the need for opposites and opposing forces, but I don’t believe the amount of contradiction present is necessary. Architecture, being what it is, is “suspended in a dire balance of opposites”. The example of Le Corbusier contradicting the expected usage and form of the roof, relationship to sky and ground, and his use of pilotis and horizontal windows (“strips of absence”) was very well understood and appreciated. However, the contradiction found in Villa Savoye is understandable and appreciated, where the contradiction of Lebeskind or Eisenman is pushed to the extreme and are “just this side of intelligibility”.

Tschumi

Bernard Tschumi describes five architectural theories that seem to have inspired him and relate to his own work. Tschumi's La Villette is a perfect case study for these characteristics and he uses them to make his argument. I think his work at La Villette definitely pushes the idea of order where there is no real program that dictates it which means there is no beginning and end to the work. Disjunction is particulary obvious in the repetitive patterns of La Villette as well as the framing that is associated with the ambiguous structure that makes up the forms.
Notation as Tschumi writes, architecture is more than just mathematical logic because it encompasses a culture that utilizes the building. I can understand how the forms La Villette take on the idea that certain facts are not actually connected because he is pushing this order and disjunction in this project. I mean i think their must be some logic in the way he designed and constructed the red forms but I agree that they evoke a kind of endless composition where it doesn't really appear to be a finished product.

Props to the forerunners

Much of the early deconstructivist works, drawings, and ideas were never built. Breaking down architecture as it was previously known and reassembling its functions, exploring new languages of construction that appear to contradict the natural response to gravity, and striving for an unprecedented form that launches the field into its full potential, how could these things then be built? The point is not whether it was built or could be built but that the deconstructivists, along with the subjectivists, cubists, formalists, etc, brought design into a new way of thinking, a new world, that would produce the buildings of our day. Their own ideas needed to be extreme in order to make their point and make people think. Today’s works influenced by deconstructivists are not as extreme, but are certainly unfamiliar forms at which a population marvels. Frank Gehry especially breaks down conventions and traditions, sees building in a new way, and designs works which we can hardly judge ourselves. It is difficult to critique when we are so unacquainted with the language. I believe we will need to let the deconstructivist forms develop and become a movement, and after witnessing many of its products, after realizing the ways it succeeded and the ways it failed, then we can offer our criticism. It is the evaluation that might catalyst the rise of new theories, and it is these new theories that might further advance the field. That seems to be the cycle. Thus, I do believe that architectural theory, no matter how bizarre or elitist or unfruitful it may seem, is a forerunner to the next generation’s architecture.

Deconstructivist Theorists

Understanding the philosophy of Deconstruction is often difficult, as Jacques Derrida is not the most transparent author. In fact, most of his writing seems to be intentionally trying to confuse the audience. “Deconstructing the Kimbell” is fascinating because it removes a lot of the mystery and excessive intellectualism from the discussion of Deconstructivism. He presents four primary principles: différance, hierarchy reversal, marginality versus centrality, and iterability. It is strange that they are so separate, because they all seem to point toward the same goal. Différance seems to point toward the counterpoint of any object, the essential opposite of any object or concept to which its definition is inherently tied. The best example given of this is that presence does not make sense without the concept or expectation of absence. Since Deconstructivism is commonly related to breaking down preconceptions, it makes sense that this would be a central concept. It would not be strange to enter a space by Zaha Hadid with no walls perpendicular to the floor if this was not the expectation. Marginality versus centrality seems to be a specific case of hierarchy reversal. In general, this concept takes the différance and reverses the roles, thus obliterating the means of understanding. The marginality versus centrality seems to function on this principle, for in most Deconstructivist works, the roles of these two components are reversed. Iterability relates to the ability to repeat a building. This seemed to be the strangest concept. Most architects want to be viewed as original, and many will hardly give credit to obvious influences. The idea that Deconstructivism could be related to something such as iterability is difficult to grasp when almost every architect associated with the movement denies any involvement with this style. Iterability here refers to the repetition of elements not in a plagiarist sense, but in the same way that new words are not invented every time someone needs to craft a sentence.

Even more useful than the definitions was the running commentary, whereby the author provided constant opinion sections as to the success or failure of such a concept. One such opinion stood out. It is nonsensical to think that any single building could successfully deconstruct a city. For instance, the Disney Concert Hall does not really seem to affect the greater fabric of Los Angeles. Its affect on that neighborhood cannot be argued, but beyond that it is hard to believe that it deconstructs the city. Michael Benedikt expressed the reason behind such a discrepancy well: “We are troubled, because to deconstruct the city (as though one could!) by building a little building that ignores, challenges, or creatively misrepresents its surroundings is too easy by far. One might as well deconstruct an elephant with a flea, or Plato with a paragraph.” The difference in scale is simply too great. This is one of the greatest problems with Deconstructivist architecture: it claims to accomplish these types of goals not on its immediate surroundings but for a whole city. Especially in a city that takes over an hour to drive across, even without traffic, a building on one end would not make much of a statement as to the stereotypical framework and assumptions of the other end. In a small farm town, a building like the Disney Concert Hall, granting that it could be built in the first place, would have an overwhelming affect and would clearly shatter any notions as to the nature of the town. The unsuspecting visitor driving along a country road from town to town would be suddenly shocked by such a grand, radical structure in the middle of nowhere. Since this scenario is unlikely, the chance of changing an entire city is slim to none.

Bernard Tschumi, Colin Rowe, and Fred Koetter had disparate views of the means through which these ideas could be carried out. Tschumi was convinced that disjunction was the only way to create this new architecture. Disjunction favors dissociation and rejection of traditional methods of design. He set forth this idea as a means of creating dynamism: “Emphasis placed, as a method, on dissociation, superposition, and combination, which trigger dynamic forces that expand into the whole architectural system, exploding its limits while suggesting a new definition.” This article is more a personal statement about how this particular architect accomplishes these goals. While it is a valid method, it is certainly not the only method. Rowe and Koetter are more focused on eliminating the dichotomy between traditional and Utopian architecture in the modern city. The idea is that Utopia is impossible and tradition is grounding, so the combination of the two will result in a satisfying urban environment. Rome is their obvious example, as this is one of the better examples of a combination of historical and modern styles. This does not seem to prove their theories; little of the evidence proves that their methods caused the results. These authors quickly slide back into the typical means of discussing Deconstructivism, where obfuscation is more typical than clarification. The theory reads like it was written to impress, not to convince. Thus, the ideas suffer, and it is hard to gain enough understanding to determine the merit behind these comments.

Collage City

The idea of Utopia has always tantalized me, but I have never thought of Utopia as the absence of disorder and of chaos. I have sought order and stability in my daily habits and life. However I find that it is impossible to completely get rid of chaos, as Colin Rowe puts forth. I find a world without chaos inconceivable. The transition from a noisy and disorderly street into a calm and quiet chapel is all the more soothing because of the contrast. The two are certainly complementary and completely dependent on each other. However, because Rowe sets forth only general and broad examples like Versailles v. Hadrian’s villa, “hedgehog” v. “fox”, I’m not certain of his exact intentions when he suggests a “collage” of the two. Is it compromise and a merge of the two? Is it that the idea behind Hadrian’s villa can include the idea behind Versailles and not vice versa, therefore the former is more valid? For example, Rowe suggests something unsavory in the idea of a Utopia in which the ability to do wrong has been taken away. With his critique of the urban space in which too much attention has been paid to individualized objects and not enough to empty spaces I agree. However some very ordered city plans do take into consideration the empty spaces and use them in conjunction with the positively placed objects. Therefore does he see Hadrian’s villa and Rome as the best models for city planning? I personally would prefer a more fluid structure which can change according to circumstance. My interpretation of Rowe’s thesis is that he prefers elements of a city to be added as necessary and according to the principles of the present, which may or may not be compatible with the original city plan. I think his ideas on an abstract level works and entices, but how exactly would it be put to real use?

Deconstructionitivism

From what I've read, there seem to be several correlations between Deconstruction/Desconstructivism and what I believe to be the underlying principles that coincide between Suprematism, Formalism, and other "isms" of the Russian Avant Garde. Some of the abstract principles proposed by Derrida have previously emerged in the abstract arts, and I think his Deconstruction theory provides an alternative understanding of Suprematism that can help explain some the latter's more condoluded propositions. Deconstruction seems circular and self-supporting as our other relative radical movements, but I think the importance lies in the acknowledgement of alternative ways of thinking, more than in the persuit of truly Deconstructivist architecture, or truly Suprematist painting. All the theories seem to advance ideas of quintessential beings, which makes them seem creditable only on a self-informative basis. However, it is not the goal to define these essences, but to acknowledge their existence and forever persue their forms of manifestation. The same is true for art, literature, philosophy, theory, architecture, and every expressionistic outlet of human ingenuity. Micahel Benedict asks "why, if Deconstructivist buildings are wordless acts of architectural Deconstructionist criticism themselves, if they are texts before they are buildings, why then are they not best left unbuilt, in the interests of not compromosing their necessary rhetorical freedom?"; this coincides with the Suprematist ideal that a reproduction of nature will never be as magnificant as the natural form, so why attempt to re-create it in a lesser form? The answer seems to me that buildings will always share with theory certain essential devices (just as everything we interpret is shared by nature), but these devices are exclusive to no one discipline. These are the essential forms they ask us to acknowledge, seek, and pursue in the multitudes of possibilities that are available to us. And back to Deconstructivist theory; it could inform a design, or it could be applicable afterward by accident. Maybe the latter is true for one particular project of Peter Eisenman. If the purpose of his Social Housing Project on Kochstrasse in Berlin was to honestly express "grids at play", then it is absolutely a failure in the eyes of both theory and architectural experience. But if the goal was to have the grids play so much that they are no longer recognizable in our experience of the place, then it is a success, because it is has made the explicit implicit (a reversal of the reversal proposed by Derrida - the implicit becomes explicit). Michael Benedict says that "the deep critiques of architecture, local history, meaning, and method that went into the deesign of the building verbally and graphically, if they are anywhere on the site, are now hardly to be found;" the fact that the core design principles of the project are almost completely illegible, but remain the guiding design concepts nonetheless, make it truly Deconstructivist, whether by accident or intention, and our befuddled experience is richer because of it.

Science or Art (and other assorted Hierachies)?

This was probably my favorite set of readings to date, for several reasons. The primary reason was that this seemed most relevant to the practice of architecture today. Or, at least, it was most comprehensibly linked to current architecture.

In any case, one thing I amused myself with as I read the final article about the Collage City was taking the opposed duality of art and science traced throughout as a hierarchy like that described in the first article. Sure enough, while science was for much of the 20th century the dominant member of the pair, the hierarchy has more recently begun to reverse. The Collage City article spoke devastatingly of scientific, “Utopian” design. In fact, since science is all about proving or disproving hypotheses through experimentation, scientific design could be said to have scientifically disproved itself. In any event, there has certainly been a shift, and it could be called Deconstructivist based on the qualifications given in Michael Benedikt’s essay.

This essay interested me a great deal, though not really for its definition of Deconstructivism. As he said, that is merely a label, and labels are cheap and not particularly meaningful. However, his discussion of hierarchies, beyond diverting me in the later readings, was very meaningful to me, and I can see it present in my models throughout the semester. The idea that a system of hierarchies can be turned on its head and still maintain its identity is fascinating, and one that I have seen, but perhaps not recognized, used in a great deal of architecture, often with great success.

I was also intrigued by the idea that form, or language, or in fact anything at all, cannot have meaning until it is repeated and defined by society. This is a more abstract idea than the concept of hierarchy reversal, and is certainly more esoteric in its applications, but it still has great value. Most importantly, it is to me indicative of the fact that nothing truly new is ever created. Instead, we rearrange the elements of the past with more or less inventiveness and skill. This speaks to the fact that rejection of the past is always a failure, for we are inseparable from the language and tradition of the past and cannot exist without it.

Elitism

Deconstructivism is not the same as deconstructionism or even deconstruction. Though they all sound the same, there are distinct differences. While Deconstructivism is a movement in architecture, deconstruction is an art/literary movement, or so I’ve gathered. Derrida is responsible for the art movement, and more or less the cause of the architecture that followed. His work was meant to exceed the power of language to convey meaning. He was extremely analytical in what he created to the point that he was almost “chewing without any food.” Is this what Deconstructivism is? Is it merely an over-analysis of past architecture? Benedikt makes the point that in order for Deconstructivism to be true to its meaning, it must analyze and deconstruct buildings that are vernacular, regular, and that aren’t apart of a modern movement. He believes that is unnecessary and redundant as those buildings are somehow already analyzed.
My biggest issue with his article is its implied elitism. At one point he says that ordinary people cannot understand sophisticated architecture. This attitude of snobbery is a trend in the field of architecture that annoys me. Why spend millions on a beautiful modern building if the only people that will appreciate it will be architects? Are we building architecture for the sake of architecture? If so, then this field is not what I thought it was. I realize, however, that many people are uneducated as to the nuances and elements of beauty within architecture and therefore wouldn’t appreciate it simply for the sake of ignorance. This is something that needs to be remedied and I think it would greatly benefit the study of architecture.

Quotes:

“Deconstruction is primarily a philosophy of writing and reading philosophy. But it is also a probing enquiry into the workings of language, ideas, and the whole human cultural enterprise.”

“It is to convulsively tear apart the negative side, that which makes it the reassuring other surface of the positive.”

Transparency in Art and Architecture

It is amazing what an impact “transparency” has made on today’s architecture, and how common place it actually is. Reading these materials feels like a rediscovery of a familiar habit: suggestion of something beyond. We have been told many times during final reviews how our projects could have been better through inclusion of some minute detail. It is enlightening to discover that these detailing of tiny architectural elements is creating of transparency (a phenomenal one, to be specific).
Richness within the pandemonium of cubist painting is quickly accepted with deeper understanding of transparency. Ambiguities of figures force the reader to make interpretations, and these interpretations lead one to a better understanding of the whole. But transparency, when applied to an architectural design, should be conceived somewhat differently. Addition of ambiguity in to an architectural design can be dangerous. It could lead to confusion and misuse of the space. Transparency in architecture should promote clearer legibility of space function and building layout.
It is interesting how transparency is so differently articulated in art and architecture. Transparency in art seems to be created mainly by distortion of elements; while in architecture, transparency is created through disambiguation of elements.

Transparency

It seems a little strange that in the ideology of phenomenal transparency the experience of conflicts between spaces is desired. Yet these conflicts are what produce an array of interesting relationships between three-dimensional spaces that become legible as layers. These layers of space obtain depth through their ambiguity of planar heirarchy as depicted by Cubism. How phenomenal transparency then translates into architecture (at least Le Corbusier's technique of doing so) is in the contradictions between planar surfaces along-and-parallel-to major and minor axis. As it occurs in Cubism, this is effectively the interpolation of linear grids; a juxtaposition of parts; another form of montage. The montage of layers creates the complex, conflicting, ambiguous relationships between spaces that reads phenomenally transparent. Phenominal transparency relies on both the succession of distinct spaces and the method of distinguishing between them (their relationships). The Bauhaus is criticized because even though it creates a succession of spaces, it does not promote any relationships beyond a connective literal transparency between spaces and layers.

The New Dimension

Transparency is a crucial topic to discuss when evaluating the rise of modern architecture. It seems to me that architecture of the past eras delivered its intrigue through direct formal language, with such wondrous forms as arches, vaults, columns, and domes. The person then who stands beneath a space will find his awe in his relationship to the direct forms surrounding him. Modern architecture almost seems to add a new dimension. The intrigue is not so much in the beauty and complexities of geometries, but in spaces overlapping and interfusing with each other. Thus, the forms become much simpler and mostly rectangular, but the spaces they create are arrayed with a new kind of complexity. This is why transparency is necessary to understand and perceive modern architecture. Through viewing the relationship of plane after plane, one can, to some extent, experience many spaces at the same time. So the wonder is no longer in one’s direct surroundings, but in the perception of what lies beyond them.

transparency

This reading was rather difficult for me. I read and feel like I understand what they were saying, but perhaps I missed the point. I understand that there are two different kinds of transparency, literal and phenomenal, and their characteristics are easily understood with the help of Kepes’ description and the overabundant comparisons. The art examples following are helpful and further develop the proposed ideas. However, when moved into the realm of architecture, the comparisons become a little stretched. If you want or need to, you can always create a comparison between things. I don’t know if they are using the most appropriate comparisons, or perhaps this idea of transparency has been utilized to a greater extent in the years following these articles.

Perhaps it was discomforting because there were no real conclusions drawn from the exhaustive comparisons, besides establishing that this idea of phenomenal transparency is not a direct result of Cubism, but can be seen much earlier, with the example of Michelangelo’s work, among others. This transparency is something that is now more inherent and expected in design today. All this said, I think the authors were aware of all of the above excessiveness, yet found the comparisons to be helpful in understanding and explaining these concepts. In most contemporary successful buildings I believe you can find phenomenal transparency that gives projects depth and more significance. Yet, I do not think it has to be this blatant characteristic. It is not an obvious quality that is readily apparent, but is perhaps found through extensive inhabitation or study of a building.

Transperancy: Literal vs Phenomenal

The reading was was quite interesting this week. When I look at the layering present in buildings I don't normally think of it as transparency and the comparison of painting to building and pointing out how each is tansparent really helped to make it clear.

The idea of literal vs. phenomenal transparency I believe is pretty interesting. While one focuses on materials and their transparency the other looks at composition and layering. The Bauhaus is pretty literal in elevation with the large expanse of glass that extends outward from the solid prism that is the main structure of the building. On the other hand, Le Corbusiers Garches Villa portrays a more phenomenal transparency with an elevation rich in layers of horizontal bands and stipp windows.

One question comes to my mind though. If we are considering a building or space as transparent, are we only looking at either elevation or plan? Corcusier's Garches Villa is extremly phenomenal in elevation but are we also considering the depth of the space and its transparecy. When looking at Gris' and Delaunay's paintings Rowe ans Slutsky mentioned shallow and deep spaces felt in the paintings through their transparecy. Does this idea apply to buildings as well? It seems like the main focus is either in elevation or plan but shouldn't we consider both in order to grasp a true idea of transparency?

Transparency as a compositional tool...

The reading related well with architecture and definitely provided some deep insight into some great architectural work. My understanding from what I read direct me to thinking that literal transparency is a lot easier to comprehend, and very literal (pun intended). Phenomenal transparency defines layers of information sandwiched together.

The part discussing Delaunay’s Simultaneous Windows and Gris’s Still Life was a little harder to comprehend. Delaunay’s piece is categorized as literal, and Gris’ as phenomenal. As far as I remember, literal transparency is about the transmittance of light through materials. Simultaneous windows is a composition of colored planes, which makes me feel that this could well be under the umbrella of phenomenal transparency. The same is true for Gris’ work. Though the composition is biased towards a grid-work of planes, the painting also highlights the reflectance and transmittance of light through the various pieces of cut glass, which makes me wonder if it is as literal as it is phenomenal in transparency.

Though we read about Corbusier as one of the pioneers in transparency in architecture, I think that Kahn was also just as impressive. When I think about transparency, I tend to draw parallels to layering, and I think that both of these are means of providing an abundance of information in small chunks. Both these great architects had a beautiful way of portraying a story through their work, each level of transparency serving as a preview to the next. The idea of composition can be strengthened only by splitting the building into smaller well defined elements, that is, by making the building more transparent, both literally and phenomenally.

Learning and fine-tuning the tools of transparency in architecture is definitely one of my goals to achieve as an architect. The more I see the work of Kahn and Corbusier, the more awe-struck I am about their complex level of thought and deep understanding of architecture as a composition.

Theory of Composition

I found it interesting that Colin Rowe and Robert Slutzky were able to collect a range of building examples throughout history and compare and contrast there phenomenal and literal transparencies. There is obviously rich and tedious layers of phenomenal transparent patterns that are described in this essay, yet I would have to agree that with others below that the experiential qualities and maybe even the literal transparencies in architecture are more important for the occupant or visitor to the building. Rem Koolhaas came to my mind when thinking about literal transparencies in contemporary architecture where one can view many different programs at once and get a sense of the layering and intersection of space. I find this type of experience to be more valuable in architecture than looking at a facade of a building and trying to break down the intricacies of the structural system versus the mullions, etc. I mean I guess if the building was in a very dense urban environment and it was all about the facade than that is where the details and real composition lies and ultimately thats what makes the overall character of the building. I understand how in classical renaissance and medieval architecture, the idea of phenomenal transparency is intriguing because that is where the creativity and innovation lies since there are such strict rules to follow. In modern architecture, I would favor form, materiality and relationship of program which seems closer to literal transparency.

I think in cubist art and visual art in general, phenomenal transparency can be explored greatly and with a specific idea in mind. Although the 2D art form is limiting to the viewer, the artist is able to explore a variety of compositions in a series of pieces. The viewer can than begin to dissect the underlying forms in the painting that make up the phenomenal or literal transparency.

Composition

Slutzky's phenomenal transparency is certainly something to talk about, and he does so at great length. When it's pointed out to me I can see it in the buildings he discusses. However, it seems to some extent to be less valuable in architecture than in other arts. In painting, it can create quite a satisfying ambiguity, and in speech and literature the double entendre, which I would consider the verbal equivalent of phenomenal transparency, can be very entertaining.

In architecture, though, it seems to me that it loses something. Certainly it can be done. Slutzky made quite a convincing case for this. I don't think that it would be appreciated the same way in architecture the same way it is in other arts. I think that at best, a small fraction of occupants and passers-by would notice such a transparency, and few or none would derive any particular meaning from it. I'm reminded of something David Heymann said last year in Site Design: "People don't like to think about architecture." He went on to give a few exceptions, and perhaps in these exceptions such transparency would be noticed and enjoyed. For the most part, though, it would be a waste of time and effort.

Even beyond the question of whether or not this phenomenal transparency is noticed is the question of whether or not it is desirable. This is a more difficult question to answer, and one that is dependent on personal preference. Slutzky's opinion was clearly that phenomenal transparency was desirable in design, no matter how much he tried to appear impartial. I can't speak for others, but my own opinion is primarily one of indifference. I'm neither bothered nor excited by the idea of ambiguous transparency. I was more interested in what Slutzky had to say when he spoke more generally about figure and field. The idea that an object is inextricably linked to its context is a far more powerful and meaningful one to me than the visual trick of creating an ambiguous layering of planes.

The idea of figure and field also seems much closer to what I would think of as composition. The one part of the article where I thought Slutzky really gave a convincing description of composition was when he walked the reader through the approach to the Palace of the League of Nations. I was unconvinced by his portrayal of transparency as the thing that draws one into the building, but his sequence of the various scenes on approach was excellent, and elaborated on something I think too little of: the way buildings guide people through them. This is typically regarded as reaching its height in English landscape gardening, but it can still be very powerful in buildings of any shape or size today. To me, this is a much more important compositional goal than a simple overlapping of planes.

Transparency in Architecture

These comparative literature style essays made it extremely clear how both literal and phenomenal transparency exist in painting and architecture. Danilo mentioned that he was of the opinion that the painting portions of the essays better presented their case for transparency. This may be true of the writing, I think I disagree with the idea. Paintings have the advantage of being two dimensional which allows them to more abstractly depict transparency in the third dimension. Literal transparency can easily be achieved by composition and painting technique, color, etc. Likewise can phenomenal transparency as the viewer of any of the discussed paintings reconsiders the depicted space and the relationship of subject, material, point of view, depth, and meaning. Transparency in painting is understood. Architecture, on the other hand, is more complicated. As the article stated, it cannot escape its third dimension. Therefore, transparency in architecture is more complicated. It is experiential in depth, movement through space, time, illumination, tangibility, and perspective. It is difficult to create the same kind of phenomenal transparency as in painting because we can only experience one perspective at a time. (This reminds me of El Lissitzky’s insistence on representing architecture in axonometric.) Yet, I think architecture has a much greater potential for rich, experiential phenomenal transparency as it engages all of the senses. Transparency must apply to more than vision. Acoustics, temperature, wind, other inhabitants, and actual three-dimensional space, in addition to color, texture, light and material, can all be used to develop truly transparent architecture. I don’t know if I have ever experienced a built space of this kind, but I believe in the potential for it.

Theory of Composition

It seems as though Robert Slutzky and Colin Rowe prefer the complexity behind phenomenal transparency more than the quality of material behind literal transparency. Slutzky compared Moholy-Nagy’s La Sarraz with Leger’s Three Faces and found the former lacking in complexity. For Slutzky overlapping and ambiguity increases the ways in which an object or painting can be seen. Leger’s Three Faces and I. M. Pei’s Denver building do not give an immediate sense of depth like Moholy-Nagy’s La Sarraz and Belluschi’s Portland building, but instead seem two dimensional. Further inspection of the patterns and shapes reveal overlaps and distortions which can be seen in more than one way. The secondary blue frame of Pei’s building can either be seen as in front of or behind the principal black frame. This for the authors creates more variety and therefore more interest. An unspoken criticism of the Bauhaus building and Belluschi’s building seem to be that there is not “more than what the eye sees”. Both buildings suggest things but do it in a very direct way. Pei’s phenomenal transparency is created through subtleties and illusions which Slutzky and Row think are richer. I also think that medieval towns when viewed from the perspective of their narrow streets also create a sort of phenomenal transparency. Often towers that rise over rooftops seem closer than they actually are, and all the houses in close proximity often appear to overlap. Most people find it very confusing to navigate, but there is an attraction to its complexity and ‘pseudo-chaos’.
Still, I don’t have the preference for phenomenal over literal transparency that Rowe and Slutzky hold.

Phenomenal Transparency

The idea of transparency discussed here is a new way of looking at the overlapping of spaces. The paintings that the artists created show many overlapping styles and images. Many artists, such as Léger, considered these works to be modeled in low relief. Le Corbusier produces similar effects in his architecture, with layered effects and specifically framed views. This goes along with the architectural promenade concept typically discussed with his buildings, as most of these buildings had a preferred view. Paintings of this nature obviously had a preferred view because they demonstrated a specific viewpoint. Many of the Cubist paintings of this nature only had one real reading. While this may be the case in terms of transparency, it is hard to believe that any painting so abstract could only be read in one manner. It seems more likely that there was only one correct interpretation, and anyone with a differing view would be someone that was not educated as to the purpose of the artist. On the one hand, one can argue that anyone viewing art should make a point to understand the theory that it represents. However, there is something to be said of the interpretations of outsiders. They may not be accurate, but they often reveal new ideas as to meanings not initially conceived of by the authors. These viewpoints could be equally as fascinating, though they may not be as relevant to the discussion of transparency.

The Bauhaus Building is presented as an excellent example of these concepts. The description is of a building that does not have a conscious layering effect. This is a strange way to describe the building, as modern images of the design show the layered floors more prominently than nearly any other feature, with the glass facades being the obvious exception. The point of the space was that diagonal views are given priority. This is also a strange concept, but the images available of the space seem to suggest a similar motivation. The spaces and buildings do not seem so much on axis as on diagonal with each other, suggesting that this idea of transparency is plainly visible. In general, most of the seeming discrepancies from the photographs to the building itself are probably the cause of a modern reading of the building. Especially since many photos are overhead views, it is possible that in the experience of the space one would perceive the elements listed. It seems like the minute details being described would be best viewed in person.

Rowe and Slutzky define the concept of simultaneous perceptions as it relates to phenomenal transparency. It seems to make sense that when there is a piece of glass, one always struggles with the idea of whether it is the glass or the item behind the glass that is actually being seen. Transparent objects are a way of creating a barrier without preventing views, which is a concept that seems to defy common sense. This idea is reminiscent of the more modern images of positive and negative space, where one must figure out which object is in the foreground and which is in the background. In the same manner, it is almost impossible to tell which object is the focus. It is clearly understandable how the optical illusion of glass and other transparent materials could be used to create unique architectural effects. Many modernists utilized glass not only to embrace new technology, but also to dematerialize. The Casa del Fascio by Giuseppe Terragni comes to mind as an example. The use of glass in this building is almost excessive, but it allows for the entire building to give a very open feel. In photographs, it is very difficult to tell where one room ends and another begins. This was probably the point. The glass was also symbolic of the openness of the fascist government, but the use of phenomenal transparency in this building radically reshapes the organization of the space.