Architrave 24 by Architrave

TABLE OF CONTENTS HIERARCHY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 ITINERARY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 CONTEXT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 TRANSFORMATION. . . . . . . . 70 EDGE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92

FROM THE EDITORS Architrave 24 ‘Origins & Operations’ exists in the realm between portfolio and journal—a place where we gather, display, and reflect upon students’ work. We present the publication with a framework to use as a tool for thinking about “drivers,” the University of Florida School of Architecture’s colloquial word for “origins.” Drivers can be anything—an object, a photo, a word, a story, etc. They are inspirational concepts that orient a student throughout a project. Building from Architrave 23, ‘Process,’ we asked the students which driver words they find most effective. Every student interprets a driver in a different way, as words have many connotations. We held an event called “Chalk Mapping” in which the students submitted their projects and brainstormed which drivers they used for those projects. The most commonly used drivers we found structure the book as the chapters. Projects, the “operations,” are organized under the chapter to which their driver most relates. Our education has allowed us to think, feel, and produce individually, which is rooted in a strong foundation of architectural principals. Essays and drawings are equivalent in graphic and informative senses. Each drawing and essay researches ideas of their own by initiating their own drivers. We are grateful to have had the opportunity to interview visiting architects and designers that have come to lecture at our school. During our conversations, we discussed their own interpretations and uses of drivers. The qualities of language that the architects brought to us, then reinterpreted through our language, expose the architectural principles and common drivers that we use. The Architrave 24 team would like to thank Professor Charlie Hailey for standing as Architrave 24’s faculty advisor, to Director Jason Alread, Professor Lisa Huang, and all other faculty for continuous support, to Alta for working with us, to the architects that interviewed with us, and to the editors, team members, and contributors for all of their hard work. We hope that the publication gives you insight into our dedication to our field, our ideas and our education. Sincerely, Architrave 24 Editors

H IERAR CHY Image: Amelia Linde + LeeAnne Brown

how does hierarchy prescribe value? can classical proportions be challenged? how does application of hierarchy highlight main concepts/themes in a project? what cultural and political influence does hierarchy have on a society? how does hierarchy influence emotion?

This project originates in the exploration of the definition of density. Throughout the project, density is spatially manifested as it relates to displacement, thickness, module, compactness, and opacity. These ideas inform the moments that developed based on the interaction between a human and an elephant. A series of analyses describing the movements of the elephant shape the ground, overhead, and itinerary. Thresholds, apertures and elevation changes broadly explore the ideas of door, window, and stair. The climactic moment, where elephant and human meet is highlighted and enhanced by a vessel shaped by two vertical plaster pieces that filter light down into the central space. This moment is a significant threshold for the human; it exaggerates the transition from a very compressed space to an open vertical space that addresses the concept of sky. 6

DENSITY THRESHOLD

Door, Window, Stair | Ana McIntosh | Fall 2015 D3 | Prof. William Zajac

ILLUMINATING DENSITY

REACTION

ARMATURE

Matrix | Khang Truong | Fall 2016 D1 | Prof. Lisa Huang

SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING

The idea of action and reaction resonated with me as I processed how to make my spaces more purposeful. My design inspiration was an invisible armature considering action and reaction. This is the organization of spaces based on primary, big-move elements. I decided to leave four primary negative spaces as an â&#x20AC;&#x153;invisible armature.â&#x20AC;? After honing in on this, my density organized around primary spaces to have them accord with the armature. The intersecting spaces register across these primary spaces without the use of a linear system. By scaffolding around the matrix, the circumambulation and velocity gave to the spatial movement. Possible spatial layers flowed throughout four inches of depth.

This project is in Rome, Italy and is driven by the locations interlocking public spaces. The site is on the Tiber river directly facing a bridge. We proposed a music institution with living quarters for students studying locally or aboard. The idea for its design is â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;City within a city.â&#x20AC;&#x2122; The four buildings make up a unique public space which both keeps the residents united and welcomes the surrounding city. Each building has its own properties that make the site function together; commercial, housing, and institution. 10

HIERARCHY

City Block | Joshua Giron + Dawn Schwartz | Vicenza Studio Fall 2016 | Prof. Alfonzo Perez

CITY WITHIN A CITY

IMPRINTING

Material studies began with ink stampings of wood and fingerprints onto mylar and plexiglass, the purpose of which was to experiment with opacity and grain when viewed perpedicular to stacked layers. This imprinting of material and hand serves to reflect the crafting process and qualities of the detailed end product.

Downtown Gainesville, FL | Glenn Godfrey | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. James Leach

DEPTH IN PRINTS

Q U I LT LAYER

THE QUILT GARDEN

FL Landscape | Verity Blevins + Carol-Anne Rodrigeus | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. Martha Kohen

At the end of the Florida Quilting Trail, quilters are greeted with the Quilt Garden of Madison. Reminiscent of the quilting bees of the South, the proposal provides a studio space for individual quilters before they gather at a communal table. Quilters can take a break and enjoy a glass of iced tea at the tea house on site which overlooks the lake. Adjacent to the tea house is the central quilt garden which is formed by layers of flowers that together form a quiltâ&#x20AC;&#x201C;like pattern. It serves as the central space as all the interventions center it. Behind the quilt garden is the existing warehouse which has been reinvented into a digital fabrication lab for the future of textiles in Madison.

HUMANITY OVER MATERIALITY

INDIVIDUALITY Araia Irwin “He too takes decadence to characterize modernity; we live in the ruins of the old value system, which, having lost its foundation in the sacred, has splintered-each splinter claiming autonomy, each following its own logic, each pursuing its own increasingly narrow ends, each resisting compromise.” – Harries 65

Karsten Harries, The Ethical Function of Architecture (Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1997)

Man, with his unquenchable desire to conquer, control, and captivate, has brought

humanity to a new era; one in which knowledge, materiality, and wealth are the sacred deities to which society bows. This cosmological shift changed the way man viewed himself and what he created. Instead of being a part of a larger plan, man was now an individual with the ability to build his own world. This individuality, this self, is what drives the modern man; to be successful, to stand out, and to gain that which is worshiped, one must be unique. It is this core value of today’s capitalist faith that drives architecture, practiced to gain power by having worth in society as a specialist. With the increase of information after the silicon revolution, specialization became the new norm. There was a new abundance of knowledge that no individual could ever be able to know it all, but could master a single thing. Generic knowledge was fine, but to gain true wealth, to avoid the crushing lower tier of society, an education was required. Once higher education became the norm, a specialty was vital. With specialization, titles became a currency. Engineers were educated to know exactly how to design a specific machine, a computer, or calculate building durability, each discipline ranked by its monetary expectancy. Alfred Loos, author of “Ornament and Crime” and father of modern architectural theories, describes “Builders should think like engineers, not like decorators.” In his mind, the simplicity of the design should be a precise mathematical equation to be solved with a reusable formula. This cold, calculated approach takes away a large part of what architecture is. His theories removed all ornamentation from the modern architectural form. He tells the architect how to think and what is architecturally important, but not how to feel about the design. The Loos formula to architecture was effective in the fabrication of forms following functions, but in the process, the human condition to the design was lost. The care and passion for the details became a sterilized, computerized formation of space. The inherent knowledge of space manipulation spanning across all structures is what binds architects together. Each is a divisor of space, but it is the finite, the detail, the ornament of the design that truly differentiates one form from another. The individualist style that sits at the core of a design is where an architect can truly define his work.

“...it strives to unify conflicting perspectives, generations, and norms, bringing people together from all walks of life.”

The individual has taken precedent over the age to gain monetary compensation, but the modern architect yearns for an age to call his own: to build with the intent to leave an statement that will speak to the masses beyond a single form. Karsten Harries, architectural philosopher, stated “Finally, the modern age was to find the architectural style it deserved…the promise to heal the breach that had opened up between beauty and reason, art and technology, freedom and necessity.” The contemporary age aims to do more than any other has ever hoped to do; it strives to unify conflicting perspectives, generations, and norms, bringing people together from all walks of life. How is it that a single age can claim to do so much? The modern architect is a global designer, and the taste one carries must translate across many cultures. This ideal that global design is subverted, instead, to appease a global market, the architect finds an attractive niche that is valued in different regions for its boldness. The architect, in his attempt to placate the many, was swept into the overwhelming capitalist currents, and forced under the surface until a specialization allowed him to find the surface again. The age of modern capitalism submitted the knowledge of architecture and forced him into a more isolated field. As Ruskin, author of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, describes they were to “decorate construction.” In an effort to avoid, modern scrutiny decoration went into a free-fall of unique expression which later disappeared altogether.

“Absence of ornament has brought other arts to unexpected heights.” Modern buildings are often built quickly, with space as the main driver and stark, barren walls as its container. The foundation of ornament has been lost. While this has allowed for other professions such as interior design to flourish, specialists are now a part of the design process who bring the detail to the space that would normally be created by the architects themselves. The production line of the capitalist market demands that two individuals carry out these two processes. It does not require that the total knowledge of the building be known by a single individual, but expects several to include their specialized part. Once one gear has moved the next will turn moving the next, until the hand moves round the face of the clock, never depending on only one gear to move it there. The flourishing of these other disciplines in their own right are progressive, but they are robbing the architect of a part of his potential. “Like strangers these systems now stand one beside the other.”(65) One limb has been removed to become engineering, another to form the interior designer, yet more for the landscape architect, until eventually there is no longer a soul to project, but an aimless notion of a floating head. The core of the form has barely remained intact and what was, has now transformed into something of so many designs that the single style can no longer emerge. Loos, in his calculated approach to architecture, lost the richness of human design as he lead the current generation of designers. His ideas are at odds with the individuality of the modern persona, “that he never could furnish more than an illuminating caricature.” There is some definition to the reality of the being with the beginnings of details with only three colors, but the infinite that is reality of human complexity can never be achieved with his approach. Each individual has tried to show their own complexities through a unique style, but it is when these unique styles can begin to form connections and become a part of humanity as a whole, that the Age can unite, rather than surpass the individual. Humanity must chose itself over the material in order to construct for this age.

As moments of spatial and tectonic connections begin to form and emerge through the intersection of various spatial systems, the poem, “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S Eliot is incorporated. The narrative’s job is to explore the spatial dimensions while also providing a guide for the viewer. Room and Garden assists in establishing an understanding of the relationships between field, node and model. The idea of human occupation is also introduced in the process of making this model. The emphasis of space, line, scale, hierarchy and juxtaposition of space were all design concepts created for construction of the model. 18

OCCUPATION INTERSECTION

Room and Garden | Christyna Conway | Fall 2016 D1 | Prof. Mark McGlothlin

TIMEKEEPER

Interview

Brent Linden

Allied Works

Architrave: In your lecture, you presented projects categorized under the uses of concrete, light, structure, and form. Do you see those as your drivers or is there something that comes before that? Linden: Those are issues that we are exploring in each project, but each project has a different driver. There was a project that we used an orange peel as the driver. It may sound silly, but we took the peel of an orange, took a picture, and presented it on the wall at the client meeting. It helped present a clear idea, and everyone understood it. That approach helps you make decisions going through the project. Concrete, light, structure and form are just architectural issues; materiality and daylighting as experiential issues, structure and form as spatial, constructability issues. They are slightly different things, issues versus drivers. The drivers are used to evaluate a project as it progresses; so if I’m a craftsman and making a chair, I want the chair to be comfortable, this could be the driver. The chair is the thing that I’m working on, issues are what you’re working through, and the driver helps guide it throughout. For Allied Work’s Mary Hill Overlook, the main driver was connection. On the bluff above the Columbia River Gorge, we oriented the outlook towards it, using concrete to seem continuous. Its ability to unify became a line that could connect the eye to something across the landscape to the other side. It connected the body to the landscape, so the material was concrete, but the issue was connectivity. A: Louis Khan’s quote “structure is the giver of light” makes us think of the waffle slab structure in the Clyfford Still Museum. 20

L: Our founding principals at Allied Works went to University of Oregon and Columbia University. University of Florida and University of Oregon are both tied to Columbia University - those people also came directly from Louis Kahn, so we all have a lineage of thinking. The visibility that we’re in now is very much associated with that kind of thinking: how much structure there is, the kind of form made that attaches to the landscape, etc. When we tie structure to light, we want both to become one thing. It’s tough to address all of these different systems: ceilings, furniture, windows, etc. All of these systems and ideas that you’re trying to bring together to make it as potent as possible, even though things are very complex. The marriage of those two things: structure and light, is one to drive home the experience of being connected. In Clyfford Still, they were equally balanced, you were always aware of the concrete, but you were also always aware of the light that was raking across the concrete, and we were pretty successful in marrying the two. A: The Graduate 1 program’s first project, led by Professor Walters and Professor Huang, was a 1:1 scale construct and fragment of material test. We used a lot of Allied Work’s projects as precedents. Could you talk about the importance of materials and material processes in making? L: Color is a big deal because color makes light become a material because light reflects off of it. So much of our world is just a typical room, all sheetrock, carpet, and acoustic ceiling tiles. The first time that I felt a real material, concrete, I recognized it as a made thing, all natural materials combined together to make a structure; those things make an experience be potent, it adds a richness to these things, whatever the form is doing, wherever the light is coming in, how we are connected to the landscape, etc. Materials are always around you, it’s important how you deploy materials or decide which materials you use, and then revealing natural materials that have been on this earth for a very long time. Super smooth surfaces are not natural to us, to our eyes and to our brains. Having a lot of texture for us is important, as humans it’s how we experience space. As architects, we just love making things, and we love people who love making things. It was really fun to dream up ways we could cast things into concrete, but in the end we didn’t build them, so collaboration with the different people is fun because they might know more about the material that we’re working with. Material is what is important in the space. The process for the glaze of the tiles for The National Music Center almost took us as long as the entire design of the building. We knew

we were going to use a terracotta tile from a firm in the Netherlands, established in 1576, that we’ve worked with before who know how to do tile glazing. They did tons of experiments for us to get two perfect iridescent glaze that needed to harmonize with each other. To use sheetrock on the entire inside of the building would have been terrible, it wouldn’t have been the same project without the investigation the terracotta glazer brought to it. It was another thing that heightens the experience of the building.

L: It’s so important to have that realization because it’s totally true that you draw these things in some software and that line means almost nothing to anybody, it just means a location in space. They’re going to either pour the concrete this thick, or the put the stud wall right there, that’s all it means but it doesn’t mean how it’s going to come together. Being able to work with how things come together opens your eyes that there’s literally a person is physically going to pick something up and put it into place, and attach it to something else.

A: There’s tends to be a large disparity in the way that we do things in school and the way that things are done in practice. Not just in the schematic design phase, but even in the design process there are shortcomings once you get into practice. In the Allied Works’ projects you don’t lose that conceptual thinking about the experience of space and that’s what we drive in school.

A: Can you elaborate on aligning your beliefs with Allied Works?

L: Confidence in making is the thing that you need coming out of school. What I saw when I first went to Allied Works is that my boss, founder Brad Cloepfil, has the willingness to challenge, to be critical of the entire process; so he will, in a very political way, be critical of the client. In the case of the university, the dean doesn’t have the money but he makes the decision on whether the building gets made, the contractor is trying to make money, and the architect is trying to make the building, and so only two of those parties want a building, one of those parties knows how to make a building well, one of those, the client, would love to have a great building but in the end they just need space to put a conference room, and the (some) contractors just wants to get out of there as fast as possible. The more time you spend in studio, the more worked out something is. It’s the same thing in our office, we have to show the client that we know more about how something can get built more than the contractor does. The love of making stuff keeps you there until 9:00 at night, so that’s one of the ways that it can be a bridge between school and practice. Making as a bridge is an interesting way to talk about confidence, skill, and passion coming together in practice. A: The thing I appreciate the most about our process is that it addresses how things come together. Even just how concrete attaches to something else, it’s silly, but you draw it all the time as two little lines. It is a rare recognition and appreciation when understanding the fact that other people have to build the things that you make; we have to be aware of that. We want to make it easy, accessible, and easy to fix.

L: There are so many offices, so many ways of working, eventually you’ll find the place that works for you. I have been at Allied Works for fourteen years, but it’s is not the first office I ever worked in; I worked in three other offices prior to that. You’ll find the place. There’s the kind of work where you really care about how people feel when they’re in a building, or how people are connected to the landscape, or how people make a thing. I consider these issues and I could say that’s real architecture or good architecture, but in the end that’s the architecture I like to make and I think is important. That’s the firm I ended up in.

"Confidence in making is the thing that you need coming out of school."

UNWRITTEN HISTORICAL PROMENADE

THE EMOTIVE CATALYST Carol-Anne Rodrigues

“The most Neutral Architecture is often the most aggressive.” -Daniel Libeskind. The difference between architecture and a building is that architecture can move people through emotions. As Libeskind notes, “Architecture is the biggest document of unwritten history”. When one visits the ruins of Rome, they feel the immense power from these structures. Though they have existed for hundreds of years, the columns of the Roman Parthenon have stood tall in supporting themselves against the wear of time. Government edifices of today mimic this kind of design with the use of strong columns to remind us of the principles that which their country stands upon.

Architecture does not only seek to move itself in the physical manifestations of power, but also in the absence of the physical. When Libeskind was designing the Jewish Memorial Museum, he sought to create a space of “emptiness”; with the Holocaust as such a devastating event in history, it is almost impossible to actually witness a comparable despair again. In an attempt to create a memorial for this, Libeskind looked into the space as what it would feel like as if one did not exist. Through physical dead ends, lack of materiality and voids of windows, there is an inescapable feeling of dread and despair. However, with all this bleakness, Libeskind creates seams of light that illuminate from the top to symbolize the hope that even though one is surrounded by dark despair, there is a ray of light that shines through. How is this catalyst of emotions constructed? In the education of architecture, there is a design itinerary of complex spaces. As Le Corbusier said, “architecture is appreciated while on the move, with one’s feet”; promenade architecture. A promenade is the experience by navigating a sequence of spaces in appreciation of the whole instead of through the individual. In the Jewish Memorial Museum, the promenade was critical for the overall experience of despair as visitors faced dead ends and bleak walls. Similarly, in a cinematographic perspective, there is an art in the construction of the assemblage of scenes in a film. “Film creates spaces for viewing, perusing, and wandering about. Acting like a voyager, the itinerant spectator of the filmic architectural ensemble reads moving views as practices of imaging.” Cinematography is a tectonic assemblage of different facets in the final creation of an emotive, moving piece. From the lighting of the scene to the musical score to the different camera views, each element behaves similarly to construction elements such as foundation, framework and materials. The viewer of the film is moved in all senses of feeling except through the somatic sense—which is where architecture comes through.

Architecture can been seen as a physical embodiment of film with a strict criteria on how to experience it. Whenever one re-watches a film, they have to start from the beginning and go through the whole film journey. There is a strict dictation on how one experiences the film and if they were to not follow the journey that the filmmaker created, the emotional experience would be lost. Similarly with architecture, there is a set promenade that one cannot deviate from unless they want to break away from the guidelines. Through the curating of the emotional experience, the architect must immerse in researching all scales of design including the urban, building and component scales. From the way the architecture reacts to its context, to the details of its construction, every piece of the whole assemblage is critical. With dedication to detail, the process for architecture and film mimic each other in their long duration. However, once each piece is done, there is no doubt that the results are permanent and memorable. The events of today will fade to be a part of history, and only through diligent efforts of preservation can we remember the past. Why the edifices of the past and memorials strike chords of emotions through us is by the thought and care put into its design and assemblage. Libeskind takes an event from the past and finds a way to memorialize the people that suffered while creating an emotionally evoking experience for the masses through his means of sequencing of space, construction, and detailing. In pieces like Libeskind’s Jewish Museum Berlin, it is possible to travel through “unwritten history” with the moving experiences of architecture. Architecture represents a catalyst that transports one through history and time and allows an individual to be moved through the tangible and intangible space.

ITINERARY Image: Amelia Linde + LeeAnne Brown

how can a project direct the occupantâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eyes and path? does a desert have direction? how is an itinerary manifested? must people follow a path? should good design depict a journey?

EVENT AND CATALYST

1. DEMENTIA 2. FLANEUR Jaysen Good Dementia noun, Psychiatry.

“I drove myself... to Canada. My mother’s things were there, you know, the kind you put on shelves and around. I got what I wanted, though. It was beautiful there.” “Canada?”

Severe impairment or loss of intellectual capacity and personality integration, due to the loss of or damage to neurons in the brain.

“Yeah, I thought you should move there!” (She didn’t drive herself there. She rode in an ambulance.) I’m sitting by her bedside on a Friday night, attempting to make conversation, but it’s just not happening. She has been ‘here’ for five days. I slide down to lean my head against the back of the stiff, vinyl-coated wanna-be recliner on wheels and stare at the ceiling. Sterile, dim, practical. Easy to forget. Thanks, architecture school. I glance over to see her pecking at some chicken with her eyes closed. Often I wonder how other people think. I suppose there is such a thing as ‘normal’ thought; then there are those that think differently -- divergent thought. But as I sit watching her, the thoughts seem unorganized. It is like her memory was a folder of loose wrinkled pages that was dropped and now she’s just wandering around picking them up and reading them, as if for the first time, in the wrong order.

“A catalyst for social and cultural change can be created in spaces that give and contribute ...”

Flâneur from the French noun flâner, means "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", or "loafer". Flânerie is the act of strolling, with all of its accompanying associations.

There seems to be another side to the urban definition of flâneur that hasn’t been expressed. That of the vagrant - the scavenger; searching out of desperation instead of boredom and the never ending search for sensory wealth. But both those ideas of wandering seem to omit the confusion and delirium of not knowing. There's a point in confusion or loss (manufactured or legitimate) when it's necessary to arbitrarily assign an orientation as an attempt to calibrate yourself, create a new reality. Architecture is an event and a catalyst, not speaking of the intentional phenomenology of architectural design, but it acts as such though the individual. This would be the human multiplicity–our desire, intention, feelings, body, etc. There is a sensory wealth that is associated with being in a new place. Going to a new city or seeing a landmark for the first time. This association is an abrupt confrontation of our idea of place. Where we get so comfortable with our surroundings, we don't wonder or stare in awe. This is the issue I have with “home”; we enter a state of delusion where we are not constantly reassessing ourself in our environment. It’s not necessarily a ‘bad’ thing but when we are confronted with new experiences that lead to new thought and new associations, we begin to see progress in our thinking. This isn’t to always listen to la flaneur “TRAVEL! TRAVEL! TRAVEL!”, but rather to just become empathetic to the places around you. If we take the empathetic approach to design, then we are not only attempting to design spaces of sensory wealth, but those for the vagrant. A catalyst for social and cultural change can be created in spaces that give and contribute to the individual. What a joy it must be to wander in the depths of your memories. Fabricating and welding together the best pieces of the best places with the best people. Or constructing fascinating stories of travel and obstacles-overcome. I suppose we do that when we dream. But how can we do that -- consciously relieve ourselves of judgment and predetermination? Can we wander without knowing, only speculating?

The Heart of Leimert Park envisions a cultural center and museum that embodies the soul of the community. The proposal emerges from the concept of the heart as the central life-giver of the people, consisting of a rhythm and a beat. To this end, the Heart of Leimert promotes the regrowth of the music and art culture in Leimert Park, as well as serving as the core of the neighborhood and providing a haven for community services. The proposal is composed of two buildings â&#x20AC;&#x201C; inspired by the structure of the human heart, which constitutes of a left and a right ventricle. Visitors circulate between the two structures, but the main activity is found in the space between them. The two buildings hug an open-air space in the center that serves as the primary gathering area as well as a 99 seat amphitheater. This central â&#x20AC;&#x153;heartâ&#x20AC;? becomes the life source of the community, a space beating with energy, music, and culture. 28

RHYTHM SCREEN

HEART

THE HEART

NOMAS Design Competition | Second Place Winner | | Fall 2016

The building welcomes in pedestrians through an inlet into the open air “heart” of the community center. Adjacent to this opening is the café, where visitors can enjoy refreshments and seating with vantage points to the street and the “heart.” The main entrance and lobby of the museum is reached at the intersection of Degnan and 43rd. Upon entering the open and naturally lit lobby, visitors can either proceed through the organized itinerary of the museum, or enjoy the more fluid itinerary of the various community spaces. The procession through the museum takes visitors through the global perspective of African history, next upstairs to the national African American history exhibits, and then across a skywalk to the Los Angeles cultural history exhibits. The transitions between the exhibits serve as moments of pause, where guests have a glimpse through the semi-opaque screen to the activities taking place in the “heart” of Leimert. 30

HEART

RHYTHM SCREEN

THE HEART

After learning about African American culture, visitors are welcomed to an outdoor terrace where they can observe and partake in the present-day experience of African American culture. Downstairs in the east building, a gallery space features local art, while an open mic room and music rooms foster the development of local music and performing arts. Education and youth programs are provided in more secluded spaces upstairs in the west building, while underneath a small library supplements these programs. From the cultivation of education of youth to the showcasing of African American culture, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Heartâ&#x20AC;? seeks to stand as a central symbol whose beat resonates through the community.

Nothing in the world is more flexible and yielding than water, or as a whole so structurally sound as the Earth we stand on. For billions of years, land and sea have been in a complex conversation. As human beings our challenge should not be to tame water or solely listen to it from land, but rather to interact with the conversation. We have the ability to experience the symbiotic relationship between two poetic dialogues, Earth and sea. This labyrinth that winds between land and sea invites the guest to become a citizen of vulnerability under the heavy mass of land or suspended on a grid above the sea: dwelling in the unknown, fully present, submerged in the ancient conversation between land and sea. 32

TIME LAND AND SEA

DIALOGUE

Door, Window, Stair | Kelsey Smith | Fall 2016 D3 | Prof. James Leach

AN ANCIENT CONVERSATION

CONNECTION Florida Landscape | Mani Karami | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. James Leach

FRAMEWORK + FILTER

My project focuses on creating a series of connections with the natural landscape; some of these connections include the use of wooden materiality to blend with the forest, natural vs artificial filters of light, and an organic ribbon that changes its form as the path progresses through the interventions. These elements are accompanied by three main structures that let the user experience the landscape through different wooden frameworks. The composition of the intervention in relationship with the landscape plays with the idea of connecting the human being to nature once again.

REPETITION

MEASURE

Vertical Datum | Lexy Raiford | Spring 2016 D4 | Prof. Michael Montoya

PROJECTION OF SOUND

My construction of the Vertical Datum looks at the impact sound creates through a vertical structure. I focused on a way to have sound travel through the structure at certain moments, then trapped at others. By focusing on the measure of sound, a rhythmic pattern was created through a system a vertical repetition.

ITINERARY Collin Bowie | Spring 2017 Urban Design Studio | Prof. Kevin Thompson

GAINESVILLE WOONERF

â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Woonerf â&#x20AC;&#x2122;, a Dutch term, is described as a street in which the sidewalk and roadway merge together to create a shared space accommodating a variety of users: motorists, pedestrians, bicyclists, etc. As an exercise in urban design, the goal of this project was to create a Woonerf spanning the length of a single block located in midtown Gainesville. A successful implementation of this concept typically involves design strategies that slow down vehicular traffic, provide parking, and create opportunities for small patch habitat that support the local urban biodiversity. To achieve these goals I incorporated a series of curvilinear planters, turfstone parallel parking, and a palette of native plants.

Located in the Pobiti Kamani desert (a.k.a. the Stone Desert) in eastern Bulgaria, this project acts as an attempt to tackle the difficult topics of tradition, ritual, and mortality. Acting as a funerary chapel and crematorium, importance appeared in the form of sublime spaces and intimate moments. 40

ITINERARY

Desert | Maxwell Hunold | Spring 2016 D4 | Prof. Mark McGlothlin

DESERT CHAPEL

BOUNDARY

ITINERARY

My drivers were the idea of itinerary and boundary for indoor and outdoor spaces. I used the plexi glass as a way of indicating the threshold between the indoor and outdoor space. I used the outer curve as a way to keep the inside spaces held close together.

Room and Garden | Emily Nix | Fall 2016 D1 | Prof. Mark McGlothlin

SPACES IN SUSPENSE

CONTEXT Image: Pietro Mendonรงa

what is the difference between cultural and physical context? when do you interact with a context, and when should it be left alone? how can context inform a projectâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s method of building? what is the potential impact of a project on its context?

This project was derived from researching the Stabian Baths in Pompeii, Rome. The initial mapping analyzes the history of the Stabian Baths. It shows the development, unification and destruction of the baths. It was created with graphite, while using smearing and blocking techniques. A prominent feature in this drawing is Mount Vesuvius and its destructive nature. Further mapping shows the process of bathing. It deals with temperature, time and step repetition. The hybrid drawings tell the story of how the model situates itself on the ruins of the baths, and provides the viewer with a glimpse into the landscape beyond. 46

Door, Window, Stair | Laura Wiedenhoever | Fall 2016 D3 | Prof. Kristin Nelson

REACTIVE ANTIQUITY

FACADE

A painting and sculpture gallery nestled in downtown Jacksonville. A System of components create a faรงade which allows daylight to penetrate and add a natural brightness quality to the space while shading from the direct sunlight on the building..

Jacksonville, FL | Aja Webb-Sears | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. Michael Kuenstle

JACKSONVILLE ART GALLERY

HORIZON

Florida Landscape | Jeffrey Richmond | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. Martha Kohen

FLOATING HORIZON

SMOKE TIDAL MOVEMENT

PARILLADA

Florida Landscape | Lucas Igarzabal | Fall 2015 D5 | Prof. Charlie Hailey

LANDSCAPE INTERVENTION

CHANGE Collin Bowie | Spring 2016 Planting Design Studio | Prof. Glen Acomb

THERAPUTIC DESIGN

The Clinical and Translational Research Building (CTRB), located on the University of Florida campus, serves as the state headquarters for clinical and translational science. The facility is dedicated to patient oriented research and houses several departments specializing in aging, biostatistics, epidemiology, and health outcomes. This project acted as an introduction to therapeutic design as we were tasked with the redesign of the central courtyard. The goal was to create a space intended for both faculty and patient use that touches on the fundamentals of therapeutic design, providing the opportunity for mental respite, incorporation of the human senses, and seasonal change.

Interview

Jimenez Lai

Architecture as a medium has more functions than the communications from within the discipline only. Architecture can facilitate political motivations. From the time that banks gained more importance than the church, the question was asked: how do you communicate power? You can borrow power by applying architectural languages previously reserved for the gods. Humans have a relationship with the expression of power. We experience the specificity of architecture as a medium this way, because the relation between pediment and columns didn't happen overnight, it happened over 1000 years. Bureau Spectacular

Architrave: You talk about storytelling and finding connections of different mediums in a representation of space. Can you elaborate on the mediation of representation? Jimenez Lai: Architecture is a medium that contains many media. For instance, we worked with short films to communicate some architectural ideas with claymation. This year we started working with short, one minute, YouTube videos. The content of some of the recent short videos include a study of triple-extruded volumes, which we previously constructed physical models of. When we work on the same problem through more than one media, we learn something different about each run. As a physical model, there are very complex shapes on each face of the volume. If you isolate the elevation, you'll still read the source material through the extrusions; it introduces its own set of challenges. A lot of the surfaces will suddenly not become developed, but become developable through these complex surfaces. However, as a video, the idea of a triple extrusion becomes a completely different lesson as a one minute YouTube video. Instead of a study about massing, it became a study about how storytelling is activated from 2D graphics to a short movie. If I could draw comics all day, that's what I would do. However, I stopped drawing comics a few years ago partially because it is very time consuming and I cannot focus on trying to get something built. Ten to fifteen pages would take me at least a month, if not more.

There is a relationship between redundancy and truth. Like language, if humans produced specific architecture for the same purposes repeatedly, we can associate meanings to buildings We transfer information from one head to another just the same way sound, text, or images communicate ideas. When repetition happens on a massive level; architecture becomes language. Even within the aesthetics of language, how something is said can become more powerful than what is being said. In other words, there's an aesthetics to language. The function of aesthetics in architecture allows nuances between which gods were borrowed from which pediments. Whether aesthetics is communicated through the execution of materiality, color, or proportion, there is a specificity to it. To say that architecture is purely representational, is too cynical. I am saying that the role of architecture is language, and the possibility to produce an academic paper through architecture is by means of quotations. If you reference well, you write a great essay. A: In our school, we focus a lot on the context of a space and what is happening around a specific area. However, that is a very different response to the context of a gallery or a book. Could you elaborate on the relationship between the two approaches for you? L: Cultural context may be more powerful than physical context. In journalism, you hear that something is 'taken out of context' and that is not necessarily about physical space. Context is not only a moving target over physical space, it is a moving target over time. For instance, the color red on a hat in 1991 means something very different to a red hat in 2016. Even though the physical space doesn't change, context changes.

There's book I read as an undergrad that still comes up a lot, 'All That is Solid Melts Into Air' by Marshall Berman. My take away of that book is the relationship between modernity, modernism, and modernization as three different concepts. With some cities, buildings change faster than people. With some others, it is the other way around. For example, Dubai is a physical hardware that rose from nothing in a very short amount of time, and the speed of which it grew cannot possibly match the speed at which people change. Conversely, when we think about a city like Rome, all an architect can do is preservation because the architecture is never going to change over centuries, and people will. Context is not just physical. It is cultural.

"Context is not just physical. It is cultural."

CONTEXT

ACCESS

City Block | Laura Arboleda + Matthew Cauley | Vicenza Fall 2016 D7 | Prof. Alfonso Perez

A ROMAN CITY BLOCK

Our focus while creating this mixed-use theater/commercial/residential plaza, in a traditional Roman city block, was to work with the context that Rome already has as a historic city. Using that knowledge as a guiding principle for our design, we then moved towards creating a block that allowed for life to flourish from either street access, and that ultimately helped in creating the form of the theater which anchors the rest of the buildings from its central position within the block.

The project concerns the construction of a new home for NYU institute of math and science, creating a connection to the romantic period. The romantic period was a time where the arts and sciences were of equal importance and the theatrical nature of science was celebrated. The project aims to reintegrate these values and methods of the romantic era promoting themes and principles from the time. In focus of expanding the capabilities of peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s imagination, a strong concept from the romantic era, we developed spaces with clear connection to the arts. Educational spaces and art galleries are intertwined, creating a bond between the two. The spaces collide which each other creating transitions between art and education all throughout the composition. The simple floor-plan connections came from the romantic concept of Naturphilosophie. This idea expressed the importance of connecting to the outside nature, receiving salvation trough the act of observing nature as well as to other people in general. By creating simple pathways in the site, human interaction would increase while people move from place to place. 60

SALVATION NATURPHILOSOPHIE

THEATRICS

NY Superblock | Lucas Igarzabal and Bruno Kukoc | Spring 2015 D7 | Prof. Donna Cohen

NYU INSTITUTE OF ROMANTICISM

This construction focused on the conditions faced when constructing on an unsteady surface as in a marsh area at Sweet Water Wetlands. This part of Florida includes marsh grounds, thus introducing reinforcement into the ground for stability. This construction used piling. This construction also looked at a type of screening due to the prevailing mosquitoes and other types of creatures and weather that may affect the constructionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exterior as well as interior. I used a screening that would allow a translucent light to shine through, but took into effect a light canon at the top that seeps through the construction to hit the water underneath the screening. 62

LIGHT

SCREEN RHYTHM

Florida Landscape | Lexy Raiford | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. Martin Gundersen

WETLANDS TOWER

ELEVATED

ACCESS LINKAGE

NY Tower | Nicholas Acosta + Nicolas DelCastillo | Fall 2016 D7 | Prof. Jason Alread

VERTICAL BROOKLYN

The New York Tower project deals with high-density programming in an urban setting. The program of the project included one thousand hotel rooms, two restaurants, a theatre, a ballroom, pool, park, meeting rooms, and support spaces. Our initial project move dealt with how the towers would connect with the site. We decided to raise the level of the ground to that of the Brooklyn Bridge, and add a park as a new terminus to the bridge. The other components in the project included linking the towers to one another, linking them to the plinth, and allowing passive energy strategies to become prevalent while maintaining a coherent project.

PROPEL TOWARD HOPE

VERNACULAR ARCHITECTURE AND THE INVIGORATION OF PLACE Verity Blevins Architecture has long been thought of as a

dynamic process that is promptly terminated upon construction of the building. The ideas of “high-style architecture,” have shaped an architectural process that is focused primarily on aesthetics and permanence. Architecture, in this form, does not engage the local community and is inaccessible to the average person. Frank Lloyd Wright did not design residences for the ordinary, working class family. Contrastingly, Le Corbusier considered not only shelter, but also how to improve the lives of many. The ideas of vernacular architecture have long presented the argument that architecture can be for the betterment of every person, regardless of socioeconomic class. Vernacular architecture, architecture derived from place, relies on the most primordial ideas about structure; it utilizes materials that are indicative of the site. The precise notion of vernacular implies fluidity of the spatial, structural and temporal kinds. The vernacular proposes meaningful design that ultimately helps others is not about adhering to a strict set of material and structural palettes, but it is instead about the ability to work with the conditions given in the most efficient ways. Modular architecture in itself poses the question “How can architecture be rearranged, reconsidered, and re-imagined?” Modular architecture purports that the dynamic nature of architecture does not end 66

“Architecture should be able to provide better circumstances for people to propel them towards a more hopeful future.” with construction. As time passes, the needs of the inhabitants imposed on the structure inherently change. In turn, the structure must not be merely renovated or updated to suit those needs. It is more cogent if the structure could be spatially reorganized in order to allow expansion in an area that is used more heavily than it once was. This is in contrast to creating fixed programs, reflecting fixed forms, for spaces that would be rendered useless and eventually be left to disrepair. Mexico’s Pavilion at the 2016 Venice Biennale reflects the typology of architecture that is not a closed process, but rather a constantly evolving system. The honeycomb-textured modules include instructive documentation that enables future communities to build their own structures and be able to adapt them as they see fit. The ability for individuals to construct the spaces that they will be using unlocks unlimited possibilities for spaces for learning, working, living, and other basic functions in a temporary time frame. The movements responding to the vernacular create an architecture that is more self-aware and willing to take responsibility for its environmental consequences. Instead of utilizing expensive materials that aren’t indicative of place, the movement employs inexpensive materials that are already accessible based on the location. Shigeru Ban, a Pritzker Prizewinning architect, does not seek to inflate the costs of building his structures through the latest materials and technologies; instead he works with the most simple yet effective products. His cardboard cathedral in Christchurch, New Zealand, utilizes cardboard tubes out of pure necessity, as it was the most affordable material. The cardboard cathedral was built in response to an earthquake that disturbed New Zealand. In many projects, architects toil endlessly in order to painstakingly flesh out each and every detail of their design before it becomes a reality. In this new model, architecture becomes much more about taking the resources that are available and being able to create something as efficiently as possible. The needs of people and time are not mutually exclusive; people require structures to sleep, eat, and worship immediately. The destruction by natural or other causes of these structures creates a void that must be filled. Temporary architecture can become the form of vernacular output that allows people to take command of their lives without idling in a transitory state. Temporary architecture ventures beyond the underlying need for shelter in order to sustain, and also uplift the most unsettled members of society. There is no greater place

“...is instead about the ability to work with the conditions given in the most efficient ways.”

for improvement than the conurbations throughout the world - the epicenters of the fracture between affluent and working-class neighborhoods. How can people of varying socioeconomic statuses feasibly afford a residence which incorporates Vitruvius’ virtues of architecture “firmitas, venustas, and utilitas” within the context of high architecture? To assert the feasibility of obtainable architecture, architects in some of the least modest cities have turned the concept of traditional housing on its end. James Furzer of Spatial Design Architects created “Homes for the Homeless,” a series of attachable pods to existing buildings within the context of the London streetscape. This project was the winner of a design competition based on its functionality, use of natural light and other basic needs of shelter; it encompasses both high and low architecture. The purpose of the project was to provide visibility to the homeless in hopes of adapting the public’s negative attitudes towards them. Architecture should be able to provide better circumstances for people to propel them towards a more hopeful future. It is impossible to make entire communities healthy and productive without engaging the significantly overlooked members.

The ideals of contemporary architecture need to be adjusted. The system of creating a building with materials exorbitant in cost purely for aesthetics disregards the nature and capacity of the site. Ignoring the ability of local communities to not only inform but create the architecture that they require is a shortcoming on the part of mainstream architecture. This sense of architecture furthers stagnancy and idleness towards overcoming the boundaries of socioeconomic differences. Vernacular architecture, in its various forms, can provide a more favorable extrapolation into the future of society as a whole. Reverting to the fundamentals of what architecture should be - a respite from disasters, the turmoils of everyday life, as well as simply a place for shelter, is the pivotal moment in which we realize that architecture has the capacity to provide so much beyond beauty. It is clear that this rapidly growing field will no longer go unnoticed. If we are to combat the looming global issues of population growth and climate change, we must look no further than to improve the way that we see architecture.

DUMBO, Brooklyn, NY | Amelia Linde + LeeAnne Brown | Fall 2016 D7 | Prof. Jason Alread

LAIR CENTER FOR ART AND TECH

DUMBO is home to a diverse array of artists and technology specialists and boasts the highest number of women-led startups in the US. The LaIR (Ladies in Residence) Center for Art and Technology is the culmination of the two industries, acting as both a linear gallery of movement and an exhibition center for new technologies. The program offers space for work, play, research and living (including child care), each housed in individual “blocks” of the building. Meeting areas are open, seamlessly existing in the intermediate spaces. Women here are encouraged to congregate, share “war stories” of discrimination in their industries, and participate in lectures and discussions for helping minority groups break barriers.

TRANSFORMATION Image: Jeffrey Richmond

how can we express transition? how do we inform entrance/exit/movement? is transformation a linear process? how is a common theme maintained through a transformation?

Carvings by the hand translate carvings of a place. Walls of stone worked by the human hand over a period of time support a framed screen; the structure is only revealed on the interior. Just as a person carves the stones to reveal a cultural technique, the skin carves away the exterior wall to reveal place.

Pavilion | LeeAnne Brown| Spring 2017 D8 | Prof. Alfonso Perez

ANTHROPOLOGICAL REFUGE

Interview

E.B. Min

for gray, black, and white. My experience in landscape architecture wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t like that, perhaps because the plants themselves already introduce color and texture to the setting. That experience, along with my art studies, influenced our use of color, texture, and materials. Architects shouldn't be afraid to use color, Le Corbusier used color!

MIN | DAY

Architrave: Our publication this year investigates the role a "driver" has in our project and how it comes through in expression of materiality, the spaces, etc. How do you use color and material to ensure that your program is accomplished? E.B. Min: Neither are necessarily a driver, but both play an integral role in our practice. They both align themselves with program. You can see that in a lot of our work color is used in a very intense way; then again we also have a lot of projects created through the expression of whites, which I consider a use of color as well. The spatial use of color is when we use it monolithically but create interest through varied texture. For example, the floors and the walls may both be blue but they register differently because of the materials used. I think what doesn't come through very well in photographs is what it is like to actually be in those spaces, because they differentiate more in reality than they do in photos. Sometimes, even the color appears very intense in photos when it is not like that in real life. We do have a strong interest in materiality, as well, and have been utilizing color and materiality through surface application where either appears to create the liner of a space and we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t necessarily emphasize the material behind it. A: Do you feel your background in art influences your use of color and material? M: Yes, very much so. I also worked in a design-build landscape architecture firm for 3 years and two women owned and managed the firm. One of the women loved color which was very fun; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a kind of stereotype with some truth that architects never want to use color except 74

A: There is something to be said about taking control of something, reinterpreting it, and reinventing a new language with it, which is what you are doing. Many of us are wary of color at first but we try to make it as intentional as possible in order to continue through a project. Sometimes we use color as an emotive method which may then become the "driver" for a project. Do you think your use of color and materiality encourages social engagement, which is one of the points that your firm accomplishes? M: It is about using it strategically. In some ways, it can help make spaces more user friendly for people when they see color. In commercial office interiors, you can see the current trend in those spaces is an emphasis on color and material. I think that has to do with wanting to create a more accessible and deliberately non-corporate environment. I do want to caution against thinking that color and material are easy solutions because we have all seen it arbitrarily done and/or with an overwhelming amount. Color and material are tools. There's a whole history of color theory out there that artists and architects are interested in. Color is often seen as an issue for the interior designers, but it is important for architects, too. If in practice, you don't have a strong opinion on how color and material work, then the interior designers will take it those responsibilities. I don't see those as architecture and interiors as completely separate issues. Not all clients are interested in using color intensively. If we have a client interested in color, it evolves organically in a project. When we start testing out those ideas, we just start picking colors and commit to them. A: What are some other cross-disciplinary considerations that come through from your art and landscape backgrounds? M: My partner and I are based in Nebraska and San Francisco, respectively. Our work in landscape has meant that we are very interested between the connection from the exterior to the interior spaces, that's a very big driver for us. We find it so important in our office to consider the site and the context of a project. One of the things I learned while working for landscape architects is to not look at the landscape and the

architecture as two separate things but to look at how a building sits within a site, then start to think about the landscape integrated with the building and how to create extensions of experience from the building. A building can be a lens to actually experience the site, it is important to remember that the building is a part of something that is much larger. My undergraduate background was primarily in art history with a second concentration in studio art. Most of my art history studies were in French 17-19th century painting, Dutch, Renaissance, and Baroque paintings, and architecture. There are parts that I internalized and have come out later in our work; it is not something I consciously think about - but color and some of the other things we are interested in are probably related to that. A: Min| Day also has a furniture fabrication branch, do you ever use ideas from that as drivers? M: FACT is a large part of our practice. My business partner is a full time professor and director at the architecture program at University of Nebraska - Lincoln. When he left the Bay area to go to Nebraska, he wasn't sure how his teaching would evolve, but then he became very interested in design-build projects with students. This has been very helpful to our practice for material and fabrication research that is done through those design-build projects, it makes its way back into our commissioned work. We see pro-bono as a way to do material and programmatic research that we cannot do necessarily with commissioned clients. The pro-bono clients we have worked with have shared an interest in exploring ideas about program; they are excited to do something a little bit different. The things we have done with our pro-bono clients have made their way back into the things we do in the office. On the flip side, a lot of the things we do in practice have benefited the design-build; Jeff Dayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s experience in building and practice help give more structure to the design-build process and logistics. A: Process is something we all like to see, but in the field it is very mysterious. It is always presented in a linear way; could you elaborate on your approach to process? M: It is never a linear process, but is presented as such. One of the things we are all told is to have "time management", but "time management"

really means that you need to make a decision and commit. A: Did you have any mentors or advisers that inspired you throughout your education? M: When in school for my Masters degree, I had a professor, Yung HoChang who had ideas, thoughts, and a process that I really liked and understood, I found him and his projects so compelling. In terms of professional mentorship, when I worked for the landscape architecture design-build practice, the principals were very interested in work that was adventurous and personal. My experience with them was imperative in seeing how to practice and do projects in a way that were personal. One of the women I worked for has been a mentor to me my entire career and is someone I remain very close to; I have been very fortunate to have someone provide mentorship, the relationship has made a tremendous difference in my practice.

"...itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a kind of stereotype with some truth that architects never want to use color except for gray, black, and white."

PARASITES

This project was placed in an older urban context that has not seen much external and internal change in its design throughout its existence. The driver for this project was to combine older designs and new and modern methods to create a new language for Savannah Georgia. So the ideas of digging, carving, latching, and embedding into the site developed into a parasitic way of thinking, taking over your host and slowly changing it.

Savannah, GA | Fhenny Gracia | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. Lisa Huang

MARKET, SCHOOL, AND MICRO FARM

COMPRESSION

EXPANSION

RELEASE

Charleston, SC | Nicolas DelCastillo | Spring 2016 D6 | Prof. James Leach

GULLAH CULTURE CENTER

This project is a Community Center for the Gullah/ Geechee people in Charleston. The project is constructed between two existing buildings on East Bay Street, and includes A Market, Atrium, gallery, and a garden. Both sunlight and rain play an important part in the culture of the Gullah people. The roof plane of the gallery is canted to bounce light into the gallery. The metal mesh of the atrium, and that of the gallery ceiling is layered to diffuse the light passing through it. In the atrium, this creates a condition reminiscent of the boughs of a live oak - the traditional location of a Ring-shout. The driving words were used as a means of locating and linking the program of the cultural center.

EXPANSION Tower | Shane Ah-Siong | Spring 2017 D4 | Prof. Kristin Nelson

EXPANSION IN LOCOMOTION

Moments of intensity captivating external light qualities that then bleed, primarily in ascension, with tipping remnants turning at the culminating point thus absorbing and expanding light to a lower node, creating that vertical beam that embraces the transparency and reflectivity of plexiglass and maps itself onto the datum. From the most intense moment, dancers perform in locomotion: the triple 50-people viewing space, then ascend to an intimate and exclusive show, to all the way down to a median viewing space of the two aforementioned. Intricate details of the mapping show the twist and turning points through which the audience transitions in between spaces, thus taking part into an uninterrupted locomotive action that vertically expands throughout a trio of distinct anticipatory viewing spaces.

GEOMETRIES

LIGHT

Mappings of the Yosegi craftmaking process further developed ideas regarding geometrical form, compression, and the layering of cut material, which introduced new patterns in grain and transparency. Panels of laminated glass, which penetrate the exterior gallery wall, merge ideas of light and display. By inserting paper thin shavings of the Yosegi geometrical blocks into these glass panels, the interior space and detailed craftwork are illuminated.

Downtown Gainesville, FL | Glenn Godfrey | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. James Leach

MARQUETRY

The structure was driven by a piece of wood sculpted by the sea - having limited places of contact with the ground. The calligraphy of the arch is translated into other aspects of the design including the expression of the roof and the facade. The arches lift and hold up the roof, as the facade hangs down, registering as a veiled skeleton. The project will continue into a chapel where issues of transparency, site and entry will be explored as the project shifts to exist in the Florida landscape. 84

Pavilion | Amelia Linde | Spring 2017 D8 | Prof. Alfonso Perez

SEMPERIAN PAVILION

ORGANIC APPROACH

SUSTAINABILITY

AFTER THE MILLENNIUM

CONTEMPORARY ARCHITECTURE IN ETHIOPIA & ETHIOPIA NOW Taylor DeHayes and Alex Olivier

The University of Florida’s Architecture|Africa Group hosted five leading Ethiopian architects this year to present their work in an exhibition

located in the College of Design, Construction and Planning Teaching Gallery which is titled “After the Millennium: Contemporary Architecture in Ethiopia.” The exhibition, curated by Dr. David Rifkind (FIU), Dawit Benti (EiABC), and Jürgen Strohmayer (EiABC) was also displayed at the Miami Center for Architecture and Design and at the Goethe Institute in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The exhibition featured 26 projects built in Ethiopia since the year 2000, representing the work of the visiting architects and other individual practitioners and firms. The projects offered insight to Ethiopia’s current political and social climates; in recent years, the country has undergone enormous economic growth that has allowed for the rapid expansion of its cities and the development of major transportation and energy projects. At the panel discussion regarding the exhibition titled “Ethiopia Now,” that was moderated by Dawit Benti and Donna Cohen, the architects, Zeleke Belay, Meskerem Assegued, Yoseph Bereded, Addis Mebratu, and artist/curator/author, Meskerem Assegued, described how their works contribute to positive change in the Horn of Africa. Each architect spoke about their unique building philosophies, citing past professional and personal experiences in Ethiopia. The audience was able to ask pointed questions regarding the effect of architecture in the current political climate, which places extreme pressure on the architects to respond to rapid additions and subtractions to the historic fabric of Addis Ababa. In addition to the public presentations, the architects joined Donna Cohen’s undergraduate design studio to discuss the relationship between the urban context of New York City and that of Addis Ababa. The study of seemingly incomparable places yielded a surprising set of analogous physical and social situations. These cities both aim to create an environment that accommodates people from a wide variety of social standings. One way that this is accomplished is through the use of vertical structures which take advantage of the limited amount of open space remaining. Due to the highly industrialized nature of the cities, sustainability has become an important consideration in regards to design strategy. Prevalent differences in urban planning philosophies were also brought up in discussion with the visiting architects. Most of these differences between New York City and Addis Ababa can be attributed to their highly disparate topographies. The drastic changes of elevation within the city of Addis Ababa necessitate a unique and organic approach to the city’s organization. The visiting architects emphasized the importance of embracing the existing landscape and allowing it to influence design at multiple scales. This is in high contrast to the organization of New York City which is based on the traditional European grid system. The insight provided by these Ethiopian architects was valuable in creating a better understanding of how architecture and design have a responsibility to adapt to both culture and place. Their unique perspectives will continue to influence the design process of both students and faculty members who were able to participate in the discussions they facilitated during their visit. The visit was made possible by Dr. David Rifkind Florida International University, and was Sponsored by: UF Center for African Studies (CAS), UF School of Architecture(SOA) Ethiopian Institute of Architecture Building and Construction (EIABC), Florida International University (FIU), Miami Center for Architecture and Design (MCAD). 86

MIMETICS SYNTHESIS

IN PROCESS William Beal The creative process from which

architecture is born relies on the unique aspects of mimicry and the synthesis of that which is mimicked. Whether it be an object, word, or atmospheric phenomenon, as architects it is imperative to understand the indispensable value in the process of mimesis. This, by definition, is the process of assimilating visual, spoken, and sensational cues found within our surrounding environments. At the University of Florida School of Architecture, the process of mimicry provides an opportunity for students to develop project drivers that stem from their own experiences. Students at the University of Florida’s School of Architecture are encouraged to find, engage and discuss architectural drivers. A “driver,” pertains to an object or artifact that acts as the main point of inspiration for the design process. While drivers can often be found in the form of existing architectural projects, they may also be derived from works of art, environmental factors or literature.

The importance of mimicry as a driver is made evident through the students’ process. Students’ introduction to the process of mimicry begins on the first day of studio when they are given the task of abstracting a cube. This first experience with mimicry is further explored in each design studio to follow. Many first year students face confusion during this particular project, due to the ambiguity of the exercise. Though the process is fairly ambiguous, students are encouraged by their professors to create dynamic designs within the prescribed boundary. In Design 2, projects utilize the process of building analysis in order to better understand the important components of an architectural precedent. Through this analysis, students learn to identify the core principles and design intentions of existing buildings. In Design 3, one of the projects focuses on mimicking the spatial qualities of three main building elements: the door, the window and the staircase. Often called “Door Window Stair”, this project engages a student’s ability in recognizing the numerous design potentials these common building elements. Design 4’s Saint Augustine project requires students to understand the historical urban conditions found within the city and translate into a spatial construct. In upper division, students are able to draw inspiration from programmatic specifications of a given project. This allows them to explore the possibilities of using experiential drivers for their designs. . Design 5 is based on analysis of the Florida landscape, and its unique topography; natural phenomena created the opportunity to initiate a dialogue between structure and ground,a task which demands extensive architectural analysis and mimetic comprehension. The Design 6 studio utilizes lessons from previous studios to design based on implications brought by local historical contexts at a larger scale. The Design 7 projects require careful consideration of the existing urban context. Both exercises explore mimicry on multiple levels. The use of site analysis along with the creation of phenomenological experiences allow for human interaction at all scales. In Design 8, students are free to choose their own drivers, based on the knowledge of mimicry accumulated through past studios. The application of mimetic thought in the design process creates a link between architecture and its environment. Mimicry allows students to conceptualize a design that can be appreciated by many because of its basis in seemingly everyday objects or experiences. In this way, effective architectural compositions are achieved.

FILTER

SCREEN

Downtown Gainesville, FL | Lexy Raiford | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. James Leach

KAYAK SHOP

Given a site in Downtown Gainesville, I constructed a Kayak shop. The first floor undergoes the construction of the kayaks. Pedestrians can view through a screen of cedar strips embezzled in laminated glass. The kayaks are transferred to and from the second floor using a pulley system crafted to the size of a kayak. The second floor is a place of viewing and sale. It is surrounded by a curtain wall on the North and West sides of the building to allow viewing of the kayaks being displayed and sold from the street. Lastly, a small residential space was made in a third floor for the crafter to live where he/ she works.

EXPANSION UNFOLDING Florida Landscape | Amelia Linde | Fall 2015 D5 | Prof. Nina Hofer

HOT AIR BALLOON LIFT-OFF

The project is situated along the Bolen Bluff Trail in Paynes Prairie, operating on both sides of the path. One side is used to prepare hot air balloons for lift off and the other side of the trail is a platform for visitors to watch the hot air balloons drift in the sky. Inspired the dense air under low hanging trees that then open up to the sky in the Florida landscape, the balloon preparation area slowly rises off of the ground. Proportion, method, and program of the project originated from the hot air balloon panel patterns. The platform begins with unrolling and sewing of the panels to create the constructed balloon, to storing of the deflated balloons above the space, creating a colored and textured ceiling, to the inspection, anticipation and eventual manifestation of the lift off.

Image: Glenn Godfrey

EDG E 92

how edge be defined without physical bounds/boundaries? how can we resolve the issue of meeting the landscape? what are the differences in language between a solid edge or permeable edge? is an edge permanent, or is it temporary?

Interview

Sami Rintala Philip Tidwel

about architecture’s relation to site is not only the site plan, but the site experience. Where do you most want to be? That’s not necessarily the place to build, it might be the place not to build. A: How does your traditional use of wood address your understanding of context? Erintala Eggertsson Architects Aalto University

Architrave: What are you working on with the graduate students here during your visit? Sami Rintala: The first day we went to the site and had a bit of a tour. We spent the whole afternoon on the building site, and discussed possibilities with people from the community. We discussed what their ideas about it were, how they use the park, and what they might like to see happen. A: One of the things you spoke about at your lecture was the role of poetics, the landscape, and how that is used as a resource. Could you elaborate on these methods? R: Everybody interprets different meanings. I think it’s more about where we really come from. Everything is a landscape, but not everything is poetic. Landscape is nature, so it’s about how we create our own poetry in landscape and the way we can read it so it’s kind of maybe a huge side in the landscape. It’s about tradition trying to create a solution. You should know what the site wants and what the project wants more than what you should want yourself in the end. Philip Tidwell: Every site has some idea about what it wants. Sometimes it might not want be what your client thought it needed, and you’re forced to try and resolve that tension. The environment gives subtle clues about where people gravitate toward: which places offer protection, which ones are exposed, and we can use those cues to see which spaces we as architects want to occupy. I think a good way of thinking 94

T: Wood is everything to me. Or maybe a better way to put it, is that wood connects back to everything. Life could hardly exist in the Nordic climate without the resources provided by wood. Since it’s such an abundant material resource, it is the foundation of most traditions of building, not only in the north, but especially in the north where traditions of carpentry tend to be based on an abundance of wood. Building a log house for instance, is very materially inefficient; but it’s highly efficient in terms of labor (human energy), transportation and processing (mechanical energy). That’s one way of thinking of it, but wood as a landscape is also an incredibly important part of the psychology of the Nordic countries. In the States, we tend to think of the forest as a scary place – the dark, haunted woods. But the historical and cultural associations with the forest in the Nordic countries are usually positive. One retreats to the forest as a comforting space, not only as a dark and somehow foreboding place. It’s not going too far to say wood is fundamental to Nordic societies, especially Finnish society. R: The forest is a place that shelters you; you are safe there. The roman temple, the sacred grove, presents an understanding of the importance of counterbalance between nature and culture. Forest is nature, and the loss of nature is the loss of culture. The heart of culture, especially in European and Western societies, is the forest. The “forest” is an idea of nature, however there is a distinction between forest as nature and as a natural landscape. T: People sometimes point out that in the Finnish language the word for wood and the word for tree are the same. Puu can be this table, or puu can be a tree standing in a forest. I have always found this very beautiful, that the language doesn’t distinguish the raw material from the finished product. We have the same in English, if you think of the way we use “woods” to refer to the material and the forest. But it is perhaps too easy for us to disconnect what is used in architecture from what grows out there in the landscape. This is more difficult in Finnish because they’re the same word. I think your question might have been referring to vernacular traditions, and there are many ways you can consider

those influences. For me, the beauty of the vernacular is efficiency and total lack of self-conscious design. It’s not easy to find things about vernacular building that remain appropriate today, because the rules of building have changed dramatically. One can get a bit nostalgic about it, but I do think there are lessons that remain valid if vernacular building is understood as more than just form. A: What are some differences of approach to construction comparing Finland to Florida that you have noticed while working with the UF graduate students? R: Listening to the landscape has become a large part of the process. The difference is in the different types of climate, not the methods of construction. Summer in Finland is the only time to build; in Florida, you can build all year round. The methods of protection from the snow and cold must be addressed. In Florida, it is necessary to protect from the heat and humidity. These are different sets of tasks; therefore, the constructed wall is doing different things. T: The most immediate thing I recognized is how active the landscape is. We really don’t experience very much change in sea levels along the Finnish coast, as the Baltic doesn’t fluctuate very much. It was amazing even on our first day near the Cedar Key site to see how much the landscape changed in a matter of hours. It becomes a completely different place. Maybe it’s comparable in a way to the way the Finnish landscape changes from summer to winter – when all the lakes freeze – you have a different conception of the relationship between land and water. But the Floridian landscape does every eight hours what the Finnish climate does every six months. A: It is comforting to know that you start with something so honest and raw, starting with very small-scale, intimate things to then be compelled. T: Designing is about the process. You have to negotiate with people and start with a set of ideas. Then you need to be able to communicate them to each other. That’s one of the most basic things architects must is to make visualize something and to communicate that vision in some way, to represent it. In design-build, this is particularly important because you need to explain your ideas quickly and concisely. It’s good to have that practice as it forces you to decide what are really the essential components.

A: Like you said, let the site speak for itself, and let those things pull through. Our theme for the book this year is “drivers.” To us that means inspiration to a project, what’s driving a project. Do you have a definition of a “driver” or a common theme that you find that pulls your work together? R: Every project is its own discussion, depending on the problems it is solving. Every project has its own considerations including location and program. Projects are a team effort, and it is interesting to see what different people can contribute. You never know what the project will be when you start it. The power of intuition is constantly being used, especially in regards to material and context. T: We all have ideas that we bring to the table, some of them are so subconscious that we may not be fully aware of them, but to me the real drivers come from within the project. We all put our fingerprint on a project, that is inevitable, but drivers will be different every time. Some projects are almost completely site-driven, while others might be more responsive to the needs of program driven or function. I suppose one of the first design tasks of the architect is to find and investigate those drivers that are specific to the project. R: You have to learn to understand yourself, when to speak and when to listen. You must be strong to protect your design, but sensitive enough to listen to everything around it. It is important to listen to what people are saying. The understanding and receptivity to primal and sophisticated methods is the common sense that balances strength and sensibility. T: Sami is right that every project is its own discussion, and everyone might take away something different from the same discussion; but if you use the project to drive that discussion, then there will be something for everyone to contribute to and take away from the process.

"The most immediate thing I recognized is how active the landscape is."

Located in Sweetwater Wetlands in Gainesville, Florida, the goal of this project was to maximize view through architectural promenade while creating interesting light and experiential conditions through texture and perforated surfaces. 96

TERRITORY

Florida Landscape | Maxwell Hunold | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. Martin Gundersen

LANDSCAPE PROMENADE

The driver for the project was to extend the qualities of the tree edge situated onto my site into Paines Prairie. Inside the tree edge there were clearings, letting you escape the cover of the canopy, so I mimicked the same idea of the sequence of open and shaded into my initial concept for the artist residency. Also by looking at the vertical aspect of the forest in reverse, it appeared to me that the canopy was the heavy part of the forest due to its density and ability to filter light and the forest floor being the lighter and more open zone of the forest, so I took that same concept into my project, with heavy on the bottom and light on top. 98

EXTENSION TREE EDGE

Artist Residency | Fhenny Gracia | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. James Leach

FOREST IN REVERSE

This public education center was designed into two distinct wings as well as a standalone tower. The main learning spaces are housed within one structure to maximize the use of vantage points that are to look within the canopy nestled around the site as well as the hard edge of the water that the structure is situated just west of. The vantage points that are within or nearby to classrooms are designed to focus on what is within the limits of the sturctures, something that is able to be studied and grasped. 100

EDGE HINGE

Florida Landscape | Barrett Weaver | Fall 2016 D6 | Prof. Stephen Belton

EXPANSIVE VIEW

102

OCCUPY

EDGE

Savannah | Verity Blevins | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof. Bradley Walters

REINTERPRETING THICKNESSES

The inclusion of spaces for live/work studios, a dance studio, cafe and exterior garden space. The project implicates that there is a specific way for people to move between interior and exterior spaces, and how they occupy narrow spaces such as sidewalks or other urban conditions.

I wanted to emphasize the bend in the middle and worked through the project by deciding what aspects of the fields/ nodes could bleed into it. Working with the couplers as a system also introduced another issue of how to incorporate them in a way that works with the rest of the â&#x20AC;&#x153;matrix.â&#x20AC;? 104

EDGES INTERSECTION

PAUSE

Matrix | Emily Nix | Fall 2016 D1| Prof. Mark McGlothlin

UNTRANSVERSABLE BEND

106

REFLECTION

RIPPLE

MOVEMENT

Ripples on the surface of the water caused by in the environment cast reflections of light upon the sinkholeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s surroundings. They create varying degrees of measure and itinerary when cast upon different surfaces. The ripple source dictates how people may move through the space, whether it be quick ripples caused by the fish or lengthy ripples created by falling objects. Through observing these qualities of light movement on trees, the idea of moveable markers was born. They then act as means of measuring the amount of people visiting while mimicking the trees in creating a field of itinerary that reflects light movement from water.

Florida Landscape | Alex Olivier | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. William Zajac

MARKING LANDSCAPE

108

FAÇADE

EXCHANGE

ANCHOR

Savannah, GA | Roberto Moreno | Spring 2017 D6 | Prof.Lisa Huang

VERTICAL EXCHANGE

The city of Savannah has two main characteristics that make up the city, Façade and Exchange. Through the diagram and analyzing the waterfront, it showed that wherever the façade was facing, that area became a public place—a “square” that is part of the grid with a public aspect to it. The waterfront became a square and to reinforce the idea of public space a tower was needed to draw people there. It gives people a destination from the similar grid that is a trait of the original Savannah. The tower emphasized that the waterfront is an anchor for the city of Savannah. Without the waterfront and the bluff that makes part of that landscape, the city could not have thrived. Creating the tower provided the chance to rethink how one would naturally perceived exchange as a horizontal gesture. The tower’s large central space is used as a vertical market where bridges connect one from one side to another. This allows the public to view and experience what is essential for the growth of the city— the exchange of goods at the waterfront.

Interview

Pete Goche

Black Contemporary

Architrave: The Black Contemporary field station reflects your interest in camera obscura: you occupy a small space, an internal man-made construction space, while also experiencing the outside revolving around one point. Can you elaborate on the collaboration of photography principles into your design work? Pete Goche: The pinhole camera, what the camera obscura is based on, is ultimately a logic that is powerful because in this circumstance you actually occupy the camera; you’re inside the camera. There’s an embodiment of space on the exterior that has a larger impact on the psyche or emotional experience than the idea of simply looking in an image that would’ve been produced otherwise and it expands on this. For camera obscura, or the Black Contemporary, it’s more or less a logic with camera technique, but also the idea of landscape logic. Thereby, we look at the world, in particularly in Iowa, where we have more openness than closedness - we have the horizon. We understand landscapes typically through aerial views. During the World War II era, we started photographing from above and observing geographies from above. In the context of Black Contemporary, there are two monitors; one on the upper level and one that looks down into the world below. The camera obscura operates as a ground-viewing station which is the antithesis there. Instead of looking down, we’re looking up; in this case, we’re looking at the sky. On the days where we have clouds, they’ll move through the picture at a slow speed. It takes 5-8 minutes to optically register the image. It’s cognitively a very unbelievable condition, but once you start to believe what you see, then you can understand and discern it. That recognition is very slow, and Black Contemporary 110

operates that way in general. As far as the camera obscura, it’s about looking in the sky which is how we understand landscape. If we think about landscape imagery in the Midwest if it’s not aerial, and then it’s perspectival, therefore two-thirds of it is sky. The sky actually makes up a much greater part of the picture of us understanding a landscape. Coming from a farming background, the sky was ultimately the domain with which you anticipate production on farm ground. Weather dictated what you were going to do in the course of a workday, as well as your produce and production. The sky has a profundity; the atmosphere and the molecules aggregate, eventually come back down, and the clouds are the steam. That’s how the camera obscura works intellectually. A: When you finally register the light after eight minutes in the room, what is that experience to recognize what it is doing? G: Because it’s a live image, it begins at that point. The cognitive point of the cerebral component has to do with discernment, but the eightminute period is about dealing intellectually with what you’re looking at or not looking at. Once that part is processed, then it’s a more corporeal body and space realization. The body is dealing with a sense of dynamics because of the days the clouds are moving at such a low rate of speed across the screen, it’s unbelievable. It’s physically sensational because it’s moving and you’re not, and you’re trying to deal with that inner ear condition of knowing what’s stable and what’s not. The screen is built of three thin panels, which I came to realize is fundamental because they actually engage lines onto which we read change in the cloudscape. The motive for the phenomenological component is the transition from the intellectual discernment to the understanding that you’re actually in a live, animated image. A: Your comment about measure and how you can form something to it, especially time, interacts with anthropological ideas on rural and/or urban settings; how do you merge these? G: What I ultimately accomplish is manifested dimension in terms of measure; the embodiment of space has to do with our full psyche and physicality the corporal and cerebral occupation of space. In Iowa, people pass through and think there is nothing or only understanding the stereotype from the postcards - the comfortable little farm set, or the quiet little town. I don’t think stereotypes are always wrong, but they’re not always correct, either. The dimension of space as a matter of measurement in Iowa, anthropologically, is critical because it takes

an incredible amount of time to be present in that space, to operate and work in that space with the people of Iowa. Cultural dimension and its physical dimension between farmsteads is rather expansive, but once you understand the processes of manufacturing and agriculture in Iowa where it is not a confined shop where they’re making parts, then you can understand it more. You can also understand the cycle time more through reading that landscape, reading the particular operations that people are ensuing, as a matter of laboring on the landscape. The building has a narrow plenum space, which you might refer to as an alley, and it’s three stories tall. The top story is for bringing the grain in. It’s a plenum space and the bends are full of height and this is three stories. The building is austere, non-descript; it looks simply like a plain building. There’s a lot of vernacular behind this, too, but it also is a highly instrumental device because of all the apertures. You can articulate the directionality of the flow quite handedly. It’s a very strange space for most students but the strangeness that allows a student not to come with preconceived notions about what should or what could go on in the space. It allows them to experience what goes on in the course of four months. Their experiments go sometimes from 20 or 30 degrees below zero to 70 degrees above; from January to May. They deal with that time element and the atmospheric element directly, and they thereby enter into this culture; this cultural landscape as a site of labor. Now they’re looking at it probably much more reflectively from an anthropological standpoint, and considering that’s their issue of labor— human involvement—in a building that wasn’t really constructed for human occupation. Our goal is always to figure out how can we occupy “this” as human beings. It’s been a really great laboratory, and a lot of buildings in the agrarian landscape can be reused because they have such a limited accessibility and application to human containment, meaning they don’t have a lot of windows. The disclosure, optically, of physical parameters of space, serve as a metaphor for the cultural recognition of the dimensions of space in a landscape of Iowa. That was the equation I had drawn pretty early, just as it takes time to optically understand physical dimensions of space because of the darkness or absence of light or low-level light. It takes time to understand the dimensions of space and people in the state of Iowa. It’s about this body-optic intellectual adjustment you make in terms of reading a place; observing a place. Anthropology, within this

framework, was the idea that there was a lived-in experience. You can’t make these assessments by not laboring with and building bonds - physically, mentally - in all the ways you would be present. That’s really what largely guides my teaching and my makings. You have to be present. Chiaroscuro is powerful in the sense that it’s not just an issue of light and dark, clear and obscure to me. It is a philosophical position I’m trying to expand to include the conscious and subconscious - these kinds of binary conditions. The idea of focused and unfocused attention, and made and remade. These binary conditions are relative to material; immaterial. These all have to do with the chiaroscuro, the philosophical position of pushing. A: The context’s structure appears to be linear; the unbalance that it caused is the obscura is trying to even itself out. Is that an accurate observation of your process? G: Recognizing that I live in an environment that was founded on labor and forms of Christianity, plays a role, but it’s really the idea that there is no separation between earth and sky. They touch each other; they are each other. We always imagine our sky to be above our head, meaning that your height might have something to do with the dimension between earth and sky. But if you lay down, that changes. The camera obscura certainly operates as a way to understand the difference between one scene and the other. It’s a way to bring the sky into the building.

"What I ultimately accomplish is manifested dimension in terms of measure; the embodiment of space has to do with our full psyche and physicality the corporal and cerebral occupation of space."

112

INHABITABLE WALL

INSERTION Florida Landscape | Pietro Mendoca | Fall 2016 D5 | Prof. James Leach

FLORIDA LANDSCAPE

An idea of a structure unapologetically to the landscape. Merking and carving away, framing slices of the horizon with verticle apertures. An inhabitable wall making an incision, creating experiences within and in between. Letting simplicity of the structure reveal the quality and character of the surrounding landscape.

114

SCALE EDGES

MOVEMENT

Ruins | Ana McIntosh | Fall 2015 D3 | Prof. Willliam Zajac

THE ELEPHANT PROCESSION

These drawings explore an architectural intervention as it relates to a typical Venetian campo, the primary organizational component of the city. It addresses the important relationship of water to land through different edge conditions. During the elephant procession, an event that is crucial to the imagined program, temporary interventions work to enhance the existing organization of the space for the spectacle. This drawing maps the movement of the elephants as they move into the campo, interact with the people, and preform for the spectators. It depicts the rubbing wall at the entrance, a sounding vessel for individual interaction between one elephant and one human as well as a public viewing area.

116

EDITORS & CONTRIBUTORS EXECUTIVE

Laura Arboleda & Adriana Contarino

CREATIVE

LeeAnne Brown

Bernard Kazmierski Brooke Feltman Carol-Anne Rodrigues Christopher Berry Emily Nix Josh Giron Maxwell Hunold Lexy Raiford WRITING

Amelia Linde & Karla Arboleda

Alex Olivier Araia Irwin Carol-Anne Rodrigues Jaysen Good Taylor DeHayes Verity Blevins MARKETING

Carol-Anne Rodrigues & Araia Irwin

DIGITAL

Jaysen Good & Barrett Weaver

FINANCE

Nick Acosta & Guillermo Cochrane

Architrave is a non-profit publication that is funded in part by the University of Florida Student Government through the Architecture College Council, the UF School of Architecture, and various sponsors and donors. To receive future issues, to submit work for publication, or to make a donation to Architrave, please contact us via e-mail at ufarchitrave@gmail.com. All rights reserved.