Humans try very hard to make the inexplicable understood. Our spirituality becomes religion. Fairness becomes law. And what delights us becomes aesthetics, and aesthetics are dumbed down to “style” in fine arts and architecture. The description, then definition, of aesthetics enables us to judge, and hopefully, control what thrills us: "Styles may change, details may come and go, but the broad demands of aesthetic judgement are permanent". -- Roger Scruton
But the instant delight we sometimes feel when we hear, taste, think or see parts of our experience is unreasoned in its apprehension. We try to create value in our outcomes by defining them beyond experience – that is aesthetics.
Chinese Champs-Élysées, named Xiangxie Road. Image by MNXANL, via Wikipedia. Licença CC BY-SA 4.0
CopyCat is the act of emulating something that's already been created and using it in a different context. Copycats can exist in music, arts and design; but they are not exactly a design inspiration or a style reference, but rather a literal copy with almost no modification of the original work.
In architecture, it is as if you were inspired by an emblematic work from another space-time and placed it somewhere unconnected with the original roots of the work-style.
Stairs in architecture are oftentimes a design focal point- the heavyhandedness in creating something that moves us from one level to the next, up and down repeatedly, something so simple and familiar with a twist is what makes the experience of traversing a stair so unique. Our obsession with stairs and the level of illusion that they create in architecture perhaps stems from the way that they’re able to twist the optics and perceptions of space. We understand that they transport us in one direction or another, but can stairs ever be circular? Is it possible to go up and down for eternity?
Futuristic shopping center. Image via The Jetsons, 1962 / Hanna-Barbera Productions
The dawn of nuclear power, dramatic advances in rocketry, and the desire to be the first to put men into space and on the moon, kick-started an era known as the ‘Space Age’. Upon the closure of WW2, both the Soviets and the Allies found themselves in a state of antagonism, as they both began to struggle to make advancements in space exploration before the other, a race for space. The era would give way to rapid advancements in technology and huge accomplishments including the moon landing in 1969. The Space Age aesthetic completely changed the way designers visualized the new world and left a dramatic impression on architecture and interiors. A new vision of futurism and prosperity.
Today, one of the most popular initiatives regarding public space, participatory design and activism in the city is the so-called citizen urbanism or tactical urbanism. The approach proposes to trigger, through limited and low-cost interventions, long-term changes in public space, i.e. short-term action, long-term change (Street Plans, 2013).
The strategy used is to create temporary scenarios that make visible a specific problem and the formation of specific interventions to solve it, seeking to incorporate the community to give it relevance and promote its sustainability over time and, in this way, raise the discussion about the benefits of the projects for the quality of life in the context in which they are inserted.
After a prolonged period known as the Dark Ages, Europe was in dire need of a rebirth. A growing desire to both study and mimic nature itself began to emerge, with an inclination to discover and explore the world. Between 1400-1600Europe was to witness a significant revival of the fine arts, painting, sculpture and Architecture.
Prior to the dawn of the Renaissance, Europe was dominated by ornate and asymmetrical Gothic Architecture. The period ushered in a new era of architecture after a phase of Gothic art, with the rise of notions of ‘Humanism’. The idea of attaching much importance to the essence of individualism and downplaying religious themes. The effect of Humanism included the emergence of the individual figure, greater realism and attention to detail.
The election of Kéré is not only symbolic in a time of identity demands, where the institutions that make up the mainstream are required to more faithfully represent the social, cultural, and sexual realities that make up our societies, but it also confirms the recent approach of the Pritzker Prize jury.
In November 1930, in Indiana, United States, one of the great feats of modern engineering was executed: a team of architects and engineers moved an 11,000-ton (22-million pound) telephone exchange without ever suspending its operations either basic supplies for the 600 employees who worked inside.
New Orleans was designed by its early settlers in 1721 as a Cartesian grid. You know it as the famous French Quarter or Vieux Carré. Such grids are named for the Cartesian coordinate system we learned to use in algebra or geometry class, perpendicular X and Y axes, used to measure units of distance on a plane. The invention of René Descartes (1596–1650), these grids reflect his rationalism, the view that reason, not embodied or empirical experience, is the only source and certain test of knowledge. William Penn used a similar grid in 1682 in selling Philadelphia as an urban paradise where industry would thrive in the newly settled wilderness. And just as the massive buildings of Italian Rationalist (i.e., Fascist) architecture express authoritarian control, so, too, Cartesian grids implicitly say: Someone is in charge here. We’ve got this. Trust us.
The year 2021 has been a turbulent one –coronavirus rages on, and the design and construction industries have been forced to keep adapting two years into a global pandemic. As virtual methods of working and communicating continue to be tweaked and honed, a plethora of virtual events has meant that architectural discourse outside the western canon and Eurocentric gaze, in a small way, has been able to claim space front and center in the global architectural conversation.
Ethical practice spans all parts of architecture. From intersectionality and labor to the climate crisis, a designer must work with a range of conditions and contexts that inform the built environment and the process of its creation. Across cultures, policies and climates, architecture is as much functional and aesthetic as it is political, social, economic, and ecological. By addressing the ethics of practice, designers can reimagine the discipline's impact and who it serves.
When examining the world of African cinema, there are few names more prominent than that of Senegalese director Ousmane Sembène. His films ‘La Noire de…’ and ‘Mandabi’, released in 1966 and 1968 respectively, are films that tell evocative stories on the legacies of colonialism, identity, and immigration. And whilst these two films are relatively slow-spaced, ‘slice-of-life stories, they also offer a valuable spatial critique of the setting where the films are based, providing a helpful framework to understand the intricacies of the post-colonial African city, and the contrast between the African and European metropolises.
What is an architecture critic? And what makes a critic in the 21st century? Throughout history, critics were the select few who were chosen to describe and evaluate architecture while we waited for their rave reviews or disappointments before we validated our own opinions. Their thoughts and words became design canon and heavy-handedly shaped our profession. This mindset and culture only further contributed to the idea that architecture is an “elitist” practice where a few set the rules and the rest must learn them. While architecture will always have named critics, just as other forms of art and culture have theirs, there’s recently been a push for architecture to transform itself into a profession that designs for the masses and is equally critiqued by the masses.
On October 18, 2019, a 4-cent increase on Santiago's Metro fare caused an uproar on the streets of the Chilean capital. The citizens' anger escalated quickly, leading to demands of immediate structural changes in the Chilean economic and social system. Alongside the people's call for change, daily clashes between protesters and the police led to excessive use of tear gas by the latter across the country.
Even though the use of tear gas is banned in warfare since 1925, police worldwide are allowed to use it for the sole purpose of scattering protesters, as had happened in Chile. The most iconic example can be seen in Plaza Dignidad (Dignity Square), previously known as Plaza Italia ahead of the social outbreak that erupted in the country: everyday, a camera records the activities around the iconic roundabout, capturing the constant and excessive use of lachrymatory gas every Friday.
When we talk about vernacular architecture, we’re talking about an architectural style specific to a region – architecture that relies on the use of local knowledge and materials to construct buildings. It’s the Beehive Houses of Harran in Turkey, to the traditional Malay Houses found throughout southeast Asia. The vernacular architecture of various places continues to be a source of inspiration for contemporary architects, as they look to create sustainable architectural responses well-suited for their context.
Looking through interior images of houses, we often see grand bedrooms with an influx of natural lighting. We see inviting open-space living rooms, lush terraces, and kitchens with high-end equipment and refined finishes. But what we don't see is that behind these sleek walls are small neglected bedrooms without proper ventilation, natural lighting, or space to move around, dedicated to those who cater to the entire household.
The disparate spatial configuration and "colonial" approach to the living conditions of servants and foreign laborers have existed long before the rise of congested cities and micro-apartments. Household owners, or at least a good sum of them, have always felt that domestic workers needed and deserved less space to reside in, not just in terms of spatial area, but in terms of necessary living conditions for a better, more comfortable life.
The Peak House, Main Street, Medfield, Norfolk County. Image Courtesy of Library of Congress HABS MASS
There is an architecture of the migrant. It is survivalist, built with what is available, made as quickly as possible, with safety as its core value. Americans romanticize that architecture as “Colonial”: simple timber buildings, with symmetric beginnings, infinite additions, and adaptations. But “Colonial” architecture is not what was built first by the immigrants to a fully foreign land 400 years ago. Like all migrant housing, time made it temporary and forgotten.
In this week's reprint, author Walter Jaegerhaus explores the U.S. housing challenge, drawing a timeline of the evolution of different architectural solutions, from around the world. Seeking to "inspire designers today to create new housing options", and hoping "that the U.S can again embrace its experimental origins and try out new ideas and methods", the article highlights examples from Europe and the Americas.
.jpg?1647823485 "Gando Primary School Extension / Kéré Architecture. Image © Erik Jan Ouwerkerk")
.jpg?1647822667 "Serpentine Pavilion / Kéré Architecture. Image Courtesy of Kéré Architecture")
.jpg?1647822697 "Startup Lions Campus / Kéré Architecture. Image Courtesy of Kéré Architecture")
.jpg?1647823274)
.jpg?1626777875 "Drawing by Tings Chak for the How to Make Space exhibition (2016). Image © Tings Chak")
