Drew these schematics the other day. Was thinking mostly about Scottsdale Road, near where I live. So many cars, not a lot of people, completely exposed to the scorching heat. There are some meagre trees and some more details and nuance but I just drew the height and width in an average.
These drawings below (from 1920s journal Planificacion) by Architect Carlos Contreras were where I got the dimensions for the world cities I included. There are other studies of transverse sections out there, interesting to think about.
I will make this as clear and concise as I can. Let me know if this makes sense.
The question here is, why does the matter of form and content resonate with architecturally aligned writers ? What about formalism can cause critics to take issue?
The critique of formalism can dismiss work leaning too much towards form in a spectrum or scale of form and content. A prerequisite is a duality of form and content. Whether it should be or not, form and content have been construed in analogues such as the following:
Form is to exterior, as content is to interior.
Form is to book cover, as content is to writing.
Form is to bottle, as content is to fluid.
Form is to enclosure, as content is to program.
Form is to building, as content is to occupants.
NB: I do not subscribe or buy into these, but I see them, they are out there. Not sure how durable any analogy is. I see these, and most analogues or dichotomies as spectrums and scales where some degree of balance and synthesis may be found to optimize any design.
Rereading M.M. Bakhtin this week. This post was written in one sitting (broad brush) and is an intentionally incomplete (unfinished work in progress) essay. I will write something with a little closer reading soon, as I am waiting for more books that are on the way. What I have found interesting about Bakhtin’s writing, since I first read his work, is the same point of interest I have with respect to Immanuel Kant. That is, their philosophies often appeal to architectonics.
Bakhtin and Kant undoubtedly held quite different conceptions of architectonics. Should we associate Bakhtin’s sense of architectonics with the avantgarde of his time and place? I know these three modes I am about to mention are so vastly and fascinatingly different, but was anything other than a classical, rococo, or gothic conception of architectonics possible in Kant’s time and place?
The 1910s and 1920s avantgarde developed a challenging and radical sense of architectonics. Artist visualizations from the time, might fit on a spectrum somewhere between Malevich’s “Architectons” and Popova’s “Painterly Architectonics”. Let us suppose there is some purity of geometry or trigonometry as it may be. Some mathematical functions involved to compound the forms and their barren angularity. Maybe the work is form only and no tone or the opposite, and it is a fragmentation of all colors. What might these options mean to a young philosopher such as Bakhtin, who wrote extensively about the “architectonics of seeing”? A more traditional and stable sense of Architectonics might gravitate in meaning towards order, structure, and their synonyms even while these notions were alternately evoked and banished by the architectural avantgarde.
Architectonics is a rarely used word. It might mean different things to anyone asked, as architecture is so manifold. Where, when, how did architectonics enter the modern philosophical discourse? Who might have explored the topic in detail? It is certainly appealed to in the “Critiques” by Kant. In the 1780s,would architectonics have conjured in Kant’s mind some recent rococo or baroque or the turning away from those to Classicism or something else? Some archaeological idea of J.J. Winkelmann? Some kind of about to be built Brandenberg Gate? Classicism and its derivatives often lend themselves as supporting elements, imposing and reinforcing order, solidity, systemization, endurance.
[This quick essay draws on design and art to visualize what Bakhtin and Kant might be conjuring. Expect another post soon with more focus on the philosophical and philological implications, in text more solely]
The site I visited and decided to write about was Kiyomizudera (Japanese: 清水寺 or translated into English: clear water temple). It is an interesting area for many reasons, one of which is that it is as old as Kyoto1 (over a millennium old former capital of Japan), as well as a Buddhist temple complex that is appreciated by various sects,2 and a unique and moving experience surrounded in absolute darkness in one area of the temple.3
The ascent up to Kiyomizudera began in a normal part of the city and went fairly directly for miles upwards most the way. We climbed through the shop-lined city then up a steeper hill and onto the temple grounds through a park. Along the way were other shrines and temples, crowds of worshippers and tourists, orange-red pagoda balancing elegantly, painted wood joinery, age-darkened wood. This area was more meandering, due to mindfulness towards the mobility difficulties of some of our party we took ramps winding around the edges rather than the stairs in the middle. We passed charming baby-sized stones adorned with handknit bibs in one area and hand knit head caps in another. (NB: These are called Jizo statues, very charming, learned the term later) Next were ponds and temples surrounded in ponds. Several hand cleansing basins (手水鉢) were along this route, and we washed with their elaborate shining ladles. Finally we arrived at an overlook above everything else. The main temple was being restored, not sure what the planned changes or restorations entail. Along the first side of the temple was our main destination. At this point we were instructed to place our shoes in plastic handbags and read instructions before heading inside.
The instructions mainly concerned how to proceed and how to make a wish at the Buddhist stone deep beneath the temple. I bid (a temporary) farewell to the visible world and went down the stairs. Light faded to all-encompasing darkness. I just closed my eyes or kept them open, it was the same. Adjusting to the pitch black I could see a dark blue or purple marbled pattern on my retinas, the marbling sensation was like the suminagashi (墨 流 し) process where ink is floated on water then paper soaks in it. When my eyes no longer served me, my auditory and tactile senses became the guides. I could hear the rustle of the bag with my shoes, as well as others’ shoe bags in the room. I could feel the beads along the handrail. They were similar to the beads on a Buddist bead bracelet but were much larger, about the size of a fist. I kept one arm extended so that I would not run into the person in front of me with my face.
I kept thinking of my wish.
After one final turn there was light. A pointed spotlight type of illumination (I could not see or recognize the source) shone on the stone described in the instructions and bearing a Sanskrit resembling the number 4 to me,4 I could see the Buddhist letter and other hands making wishes on the stone but the luminance had such a short falloff that I could not see up their arms to their faces. I placed my hands as well and made my wish. Then I went towards louder noises that were from an upper level up stairs, where I rejoined my group and continued exploring Kiyomizudera.
(Segment of Kiyomizudera Engi Emaki from Tokyo National Museum, 1517-20)
OCTOBER 2018.
NOTES
1 Mosher, Gouverneur. Kyoto: A Contemplative Guide. Tuttle, 1964
2 Ibid.
3 While writing this I learned that there is a waterfall experience at Kiyumizu-Dera (likely the namesake) known as Otowa Waterfall, that we completely missed and were not told of by our guides.
4 Was not able to find this character online while writing
The main point here, and in the last posts I submitted on the topic of prefab 3D printing at scale, is that while most printed full size structures are done from the ground up, this might not actually be optimal. What I am suggesting here is that when we have fully developed 3D printing, at scale, techniques similar to off site prefab or on site tilt up concrete construction might be an improvement upon the ground up approach. We will see. The construction industry might go this way it might go another. If full scale is anything like desktop printing, then a prefab approach is going to be better in many respects (about those later).
Here are a few suggested steps for the prefab approach.
Step 1. Print by component. Can be prefab or on site –this is a matter of equipment availability.
Step 2. Tilt up walls with a hoist or crane, or transport them to the site and then hoist or crane them into position.
Step 3. Assemble and join the structure. Finish. Enjoy.
Here is another model of precast 3D printed forms for buildings. This is an ongoing project, I have made incremental steps and improvements over the last few years.
I anticipate the full size of these to be printed either in an on site printer or in an offsite printer. The model looks a little more like light frame spacing intervals, it might be spread out to take advantage of concrete span potential. Or it might stay at the compact spacing for extra strength.
Here are links to previous efforts I have made along the same lines. Whereas this post is more about the tilt-up walls, these previous ones were mainly about roof, ceiling, or floor slabs.
This sequence of drawings were made very quickly at the very end of January and very beginning of February 2019. These should file under “portfolio”. The example above and some below blocks carved out for air and solar exposure. The main tenets that drove these are 1) articulate massing to bring in natural air and solar, 2) variations in the spaces should be apparent in the elevations, 3) brace frames for stability. 4) think lofty and upward. I will add a bit about each tenet, each point below.
Told myself to think tenet not tenement–try to see thoughtful tenets of architecture, any design should strive to be more than a financial tenement of real estate.
1) Light and space are not new ideas, but we should often be reminded of their importance. Could light and space have been the first human ideas? I would nominate them as candidates for that position. We have guidance, zoning codes and plans to build cities with healthy access to life giving light and air. Light and air and space are have been seen as the primary substances of architecture nearly forever.
2) When I draw, I often draw in as many dimensions as possible. I would encourage everyone to do this when appropriate, or, if you are in the position to teach others, teach them to draw in many dimensions. Do not design from plan view or top down view or z dimension alone, but design in elevation, in the round or in many dimensions as possible. There is a time for drawing in plan only, yes I know. We also need to raise the standard from basic and monotonous to something more vivid.
3) Some of these towers use a diagonal grid, a braced frame structure for extra stability. This might expect you to see the world less through a rectangular window and more of a triangulated or crystalline one. For example,
Who wrote the building code? Tell us more about the authors.
What are their names? Where did they live? How did they live? What else did they do with their lives? What did they build if they knew so much about designing buildings? What else did they write? anything interesting?
I know there have been building codes in the world off and on for ages, in the US here since a little before 1900, maybe longer.
I know the building code is written and revised and there are lots of editions. There is an organization, I know they have a process. I know they have our best interests and safety in mind. I read their work, I enjoy learning it, I trust it.
We have lots of legal documents with interesting authors. We have access to many legislators’ biographies.
What happens to your architecture though I wonder, without an author, if you follow, strictly and exclusively, a text written by an anonymous committee, what will your building be? What else is there you can add to the code? What else should you contribute?
“[…]that he might really and would surely develop his own characteristic individuality, and that the architectural art with him would certainly become a living form of speech, a natural form of utterance, giving surcease to him and adding treasures great and small to the growing art of the land; […]” -Louis H. Sullivan, 1896.
I have collected quotes on architecture as a language since day one, not sure why or how it all started, exactly. Some strange, some straight forward. I am also interested in language as architecture, so keep that in mind. I finally realized there was more to this notion than Victor Hugo’s or Nikolai Gogol’s puzzling statements, the Sullivan epigraph above, brings it all together. Not only is it a beautiful line by Sullivan, it is intrinsic to the essay that brought us his “form ever follows function” mantra. You may, or may not, get the connection between architecture and language, but I hope it makes some sense to you before this post and my next post. We know architecture, we know language, but soon it will be time to know a compounded notion of the two: ARCHITECTURE AS A FOREIGN LANGUAGE.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Sullivan, Louis H. “The Tall Office Building, Artistically Considered”. The Inland Architect and News Record. May, 1896. Pp.32-34.
drdrr.work 