What do you get when you cross a P, a B, and a D?

A few months ago, I filled you in on the first half of my spring semester studio assignment, where we worked with letter form to create intersecting objects.  As I prepare to go back to school in less than a week, I figured I should finish up my summer vacation by writing about the second half of that assignment, when we made our objects into buildings (arguably).
            The letters I chose to form my building, which was intended for the SMART museum quad at the University of Chicago, were P, B, and D.  I chose them because I liked their similarity, how the curves made up a sort of family of shapes that could huddle together, in a way.  However, I learned that modeling double curves and intersecting curves was hard!

We started with some study models, like this one, where all of my letters were extruded horizontally, leaving a pretty flat roof and flat floors.  These were section models, where we pochéed anything that could be viewed as interior space, to get an idea of the volume that our buildings could hold.  After a number of these quick models, I decided to play around with tilting the letters so that they could form vertical spaces as well as horizontal, also becoming less legible from an elevational view.

a render of my final design, east elevation

            As we progressed with our designs, we studied more of these interior spaces, and where the intersecting letters would afford us large volumes, that we could use for our largest program: a gallery space and an auditorium space.  Because of this, the 3D print that I did for the final review was also sectional, to show off the large spaces and how the letters formed an appropriate space for their use.

a photo of my 3D print, taken from a similar viewpoint; northeast elevation

my 3D print for final, opened up to show interior sections

east section, as modeled

east section, as drawn

ground floor plan

I had mixed feelings about this project overall.  On the one hand, I found it a little kitschy, that we would use familiar forms in this way - it felt kind of Disney.  On the other hand, I think that it gave us an opportunity to create something new with those familiar forms, more than a boxy building, which is what I ended up with the previous semester.
           
       

Pavilion for a Garden

 We wanted to give the gardeners new opportunities for activities in their garden.  We were drawn to a structure that was something clean when it was together, then could break apart and become useful in new ways.  We saw possibilities in objects when they were cracked opened, turned upside down, or hollowed out.  We wanted to design surprises.  

            To prepare for our presentation to the gardeners, we decided on a scheme that was a "puzzle" of 9 pieces that were each like a malformed box.  When they were put together, they were a cohesive whole, but when separate, their unique shapes lent each piece to a different specific purpose.  We split up into 9 groups of 2 or 3 and were each assigned one of these boxes to design in a new way: turn it on its side, open it up, etc.  The use for my box was to be seating, like an amphitheater.  My partner and I consulted on it and came up with a scheme where we split the box in two halfway up, and had it open out to double the size, and create a stepped seating area.  My partner also had worked on the overall design, and ended up spending most of his time on that, so the presentation of the amphitheater was mostly up to me, with some help from a few generous souls.  

            Here is my cardboard model that we showed the gardeners.

and open

closed 

The gardeners liked the overall idea, but were mainly worried that we were biting off more than we could chew, so they pared us down to 5 different programs, and the remaining 4 boxes, we decided, would become dummy boxes, used for storage or something.  Teams were merged based on similar programs, so my group was merged with the "rest" group (they had designed something they called a "dream box") and we were to start new designs the following day.  However, the teachers decided that we needed to start building ASAP, and my design was the one that they felt was ready to go.  So by the end of that following day, we had built the bones of the base piece.

bare bones after day 1

The progress of the work was slow, compared to how quickly some of the other pieces came together, but my piece was the only one that was meant to hold serious weight (4 people perhaps?) above the ground with somewhat of a cantilever system, so I'm glad that we took our time to get it right.

In the days following, we built the top half and tested out a few different hinging systems.

opening

trial opening . . .

Once all the pieces had been constructed, more or less, at school, we took them all apart to transport them in a van out to the site.  Then the real fun began.  We could finally put in as many screws as we felt necessary to hold the dang thing together!  There were a lot of structural details and decisions that we put off making at first, that we finally got to make out there in the field.  And I definitely got a sunburn!  

bits and pieces

and it supports my weight!

Knowing that the gardeners will probably not want to ever put this thing back together was a little hard, but we decided on a paint scheme to connect them all in a way beyond just the shape.  We painted it white and blue/purple stripes, which I think was a little funky - I was worried about the whole thing being just too over designed - there was plenty going on without adding color to the mix!  But in the end, I did like it, and I think it shows a sense of relation and cohesion throughout the garden.  

stripes!

 We also spent a lot of time on the infographics and icons - to show how to use each of our pieces and how they function. 

theater seating

how to open

moving my piece to its final resting place in the garden

closed

opening

voila!

and voila

This project was great because I feel like it was like being an architect in hyperdrive.  We went from concept to design to build to even seeing it get used and appreciated within 2 weeks.  What a whirlwind!  

this piece can support 4 kids at least

and 2 little girls playing patty cake

Pavilions for Berlin

My summer study class has been in Berlin now for 3 1/2 weeks and in that time, we've toured a lot, tasted a lot, and worked a decent amount as well.  The goal of our work is to design a pavilion to be located at Tempelhof Airport, which has been a public park since the airport shut down in 2008.  At the east end of the runway, there is a community garden and we are designing our pavilion with the hope that the gardeners will want to incorporate our structure into their garden.  We had a meeting with a few of the gardeners 2 days ago, which went decently well, and we are carrying on with our final plans, which I will write more about at a later date.   In the meantime, I wanted to show you some of the designs that I've gone through on the way to a 20-student collaboration.
Our first assignment was to each design a pavilion by ourselves with the maximum dimensions of 10X10 meters, and going up to 5 meters high.  We could either build one structure filling this space, or divide the space up into smaller structures, which is what I chose to do.  I used the basic form of the Operation Airlift memorial, which is in front of the Tempelhof Airport terminal, but designed it to be a trellis.
From there, I changed the shape to curve down, creating five different spaces with different degrees of enclosure, each for a different use.

My hope with the repetition of form was to create a sense of cohesion across the garden, which is quite large and varied, as it is a hodge-podge of materials put together by each of the gardeners themselves.  The idea of the trellis is that they would eventually become part of the garden, over time becoming less of a foreign element and more of a unifying structure.

my cardboard models of the trellis system.

After presenting each of our designs, we were split up into 4 groups of 5 to come up with a new collaborative design.  My group focused on the found objects that we had noticed on the site visit.  There were a few spots in the garden where people had repurposed doors and we decided to take that element as a jumping-off point, using it in a few new ways, or taking off from the typology of a door (as entrance) or the movement of a door (open vs. closed) to give us different design elements.
My friend Sam designed a comically large door, that reached our maximum 5 meter height, to be an iconic entrance to the garden, and a message board to inform visitors about the garden community.

I designed a few different-sized kiosks to be placed around the garden to provide shelter or shade, depending on if they are open or closed.  At each end, a traditional door would open (to the side) to allow access to the building.  On each side, a larger door, more like an old garage door, could open (up) to allow for shade.

What both of these designs have in common is that they are each part of a unifying theme.  As we move forward with our entire class design, we are again utilizing separate structures with a strong part to whole relationship.  But more on that later!

studioBERLIN

In less than a week, I'm heading off to sunny(?) Berlin for a 5 week study program with UIC.  There's about 22 of us students going from the School of Architecture, most of whom are undergraduates.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the oldest student in the group, but I'm getting used to that, I guess!

Anyway, since I've been working this evening on my historical assignment in preparation for the trip, and putting it up on the studioBERLIN blog, I thought I'd share it with you (you all?).  Check out what my classmates and I are up to over the next 5 or so weeks.

Visionary Cities

This semester, our Theory class focused on city planning.  We read all kinds of texts written by Le Corbusier and Rem Koolhaas, to name a few.  What I found really compelling, however, was the project that we did alongside this study of city planning.
            Our "Visionary Cities" project actually studied those aspects of cities (or non-urban areas) that are not necessarily planned or mapped out, but rather arise out of fulfilling a need presented by an urban situation.  Examples given to us on the first day included the rooftop seating around Wrigley Field, and towers in Los Angeles, constructed to cover unsightly oil derricks.  We each set about finding our own examples of these "strange architectures."  By the middle of the semester each student in the class had their own subject/topic of architecture.  Mine was called "in between" to start out, and was later switched to be called "void."  There were 26 students, so each of us had a letter of the alphabet (mine being V) and we defined our type of architectural solution in accordance with that letter.  I give you Void, and my 4 examples of unplanned architecture that made use of voids.

Each building/element/example was accompanied by a map, pinpointing its location in the world, a photo of the structure, and a drawing in 45 degree axonometric view done by us, as well as a write-up about the example, basically showing why it was relevant to our selected words.  

My first example was the Stone House (Casa do Penedo) near Fafe, Portugal.

My second example was Mesa Verde, in the American Southwest.

My third example was the Bridge House in Ambleside, UK

My final example was alley houses in Mumbai, India, which had been shown in an exhibit at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London recently, put together by Studio Mumbai Architects.

The final result of all of our work is on view in the Ribbon Gallery, on the upper level at The UIC School of Architecture Building until August.  It has also been compiled into a book, which I and my classmates had the option of purchasing.  

            It was a really interesting project to me, mostly because the "architecture" we were studying hadn't been designed by architects, but had come out of necessity, which seems to me to be more important than most of the things that we can plan in the first place.  

Reliance Building continued

So the first half-semester (less, actually) of our Tech Class was spent researching our respective buildings (see earlier post) and then we set to work preparing to build, then building, large scale models of portions of our buildings.  Lauren and I designed a model that is 50" tall, 26" wide, and 16" deep, at a scale of 1 inch = 1 foot.  It is pretty big, and being built completely out of wood, it is also quite heavy.  We spent many hours together down in the wood shop, I dare say more than any other project team.  The facade ornament we laser cut onto bass wood panels, and we lucked out with finding some very appropriate-sized trim at Home Depot to signify the terra cotta molding.

           Among the class, we all started to joke about how we seemed to be making very architecturally significant cat condos.  While most people didn't have a use for their model post-semester, Lauren and I did think that, yes, it could be a cat condo, but it could also be a very nice bookcase.  So after the semester ended, I brought our model back to my place (with a lot of help from a very strong man) where it is now housing some of my (smaller) models, and some architecture books.

Futura Architect Wicky

This semester's studio assignment was the good old ABC's with a twist.  From day one, we were studying the Futura font (unfortunately not available in blogger . . . ) as first a geometrical image, and then as a shape from which to make extrusions, then buildings.  It has sparked an interest for me (though some of my classmates might disagree) with letterform/typology.  I am currently reading a book about fonts called "Just My Type" and taking a 5-session letterpress class, which ends tonight.

On the first day, we were each given two letters (mine were D and A) and the assignment of learning their geometry and making the two letters merge together in a way that makes a whole new shape where the original letters are hopefully less recognizable.  We then extruded them 4" and thus began the great modeling session of our semester.
Over the following few weeks, we each made new models where three letters (mine were D, A, and F) were each extruded 10" in three different directions, the later models having the letters at different, non-orthogonal angles, the last one even morphing in size.  Each of these models was a section model, with the middle section cut covered in black paper, to make the new shapes that were created by the intersecting letters really stand out.

the first, most legible model

the second, craziest-and-hardest-to-build, model

the third model, where each of the letters are getting smaller
or bigger, from one side to the other.

What we learned throughout these first few weeks was more than just a study of geometry, but a study of patience, spending many (many) hours poring over bits of paper at our desks and finding the state-of-mind necessary to make each cut and each glueing more precise.

Jeff Kipnis, in his sea of letters

Even though these were the first real study of the semester, when we brought them out at our final review, Jeff Kipnis thought they were the most compelling work of the series.
To be continued . . . .

Studying the Reliance Building

This semester at UIC, my friend Lauren and I have been doing a research project on the Reliance Building for our Tech class.  The building is very different from all other buildings being studied by our peers, which include the Mercedez Benz Museum by UN Studio, the IAC building by Frank Gehry, and Eberswalde Library by Herzog and deMeuron (sorry I couldn't find a good website for this one, but please look it up!).

Lauren, finding some old info
on the Reliance Building

The Reliance Building, unlike all of these, is over 100 years old, and in Chicago, which meant that Lauren and I got to be more hands-on than any of the other groups in learning about our building.  We went to the Art Institute Library to play history detectives of sorts, and looked through lots of old documents about the building, both from when it was first built and when it was restored in the 1990's.  We also got to interview Gunny Harboe, of Harboe and Assoc., who headed the restoration project.  He took his lunch hour one day to show us a whole slideshow and answer all of our questions about the facade system.  It was a really great opportunity.

The model we're planning to build
of the Reliance, in Rhino.

Also, since it is right here in downtown Chicago, Lauren and I went right in and asked if we could look around on the upper floors, which Gunny had suggested we do.  It was restored to be a hotel in the 1990's, and it is now called the Hotel Burnham, after Daniel Burnham.  The original style of the upper floors, which started out as offices, has been kept; the doors all have frosted glass windows.

For Valentine's Day, I was treated to a night at the Hotel Burnham.  It's the second time I've gotten to play tourist in Chicago by staying at a hotel downtown.  I had dinner at the Atwood Cafe (named for Charles Atwood, who took over the design of the Reliance Building after Root passed away) and stayed in a historical suite on the 11th floor.  Here are some of the pictures I took while I was there. 

View across the street, to the Marshall Field's
(begrudgingly, Macy's) building at night.

view south, on State Street, at night

view north, on State Street, at night

view north, on State Street, in the morning

upper hallways, still looking like office building floors

the downstairs lobby, originally planned to show off
Hale's (the building owner's) own elevator design.