Colofon Bnieuws Volume 55 Issue 04 May 2022 Contact Room BG.Midden.140 Julianalaan 134 2628 BL Delft bnieuws-bk@tudelft.nl Editorial Team Inez Margaux Spaargaren Robert van Overveld Oliwia Jackowska Jonas Althuis Alessandro Rognoni Tuyen Le
CONTENTS 4
Visible Makes Invisible
7
As the Wind Rises and Falls
9
The Art of the Commute
12
The Hot and Cold of Disseminating
14
The Future of Home
Contributors Vineet Dhall Nathan Kramer
18
Where Earthquakes Come at Night
Cover Editorial Team
22
Challenging Steps
Printed by Druk. Tan Heck
25
Her Drawing
28
The Mint Situation
30
Artefact: Doppelgänger
32
BKINO Posters: Flodder
© All rights reserved. Although all content is treated with great care, errors may occur.
Bnieuws.nl
Editorial
ONBEKEND MAAKT ONBEMIND "Onbekend maakt onbemind", unknown makes unloved, ignoti nulla cupido, unbekannt ungenannt, on n’aime que ce qu’on connaît, etc. How will our behaviour change once we know what we don’t know yet, and how will we see our fellow humans in this different light? How many things that we do today will we stop doing in the future? Today’s theme is about all the things that we cannot appreciate, love, or understand yet because we are unaware of them. Each one has their own experiences with life, leading to different perspectives about what this world is. Some will see the world and their lives as broken. Some just can’t stop loving it. Others will see it as a play or even feel confident enough to juggle with it. You can feel connected to others on some occasions. Other times it feels like your worlds couldn’t be further away from one another. When we started this edition, the war also started. We all dealt with our emotions differently at the time and thought differently about what it meant. It’s a situation that we are all still shocked by. The war in Ukraine gave the concept of war a depth that we youngsters didn’t know yet. An understanding that all the other wars in the last decades weren’t able to give most of us. And still is it only a glimpse of what those on the frontier must experience. We put these aspects on the cover, filling the background sky with fighter jets. The faces and brain chambers in the front illustrate the different conclusions of our life experiences and also our perspectives on the war. Some faces don’t seem to think about it, rather enjoying the moon, stars or people around them. The depth of the chambers themselves can be seen as the depth of someone’s thinking. Without further ado, enjoy this edition!
#Bnieuwd
To listen / NPR THROUGHLINE Episode: All Wars Are Fought Twice All wars are fought twice, the first time on the battlefield, the second time in memory - Viet Thanh Nguyen The past is never past. Every headline has a history. These are stories you can feel and sounds you can see from the moments that shaped our world. In this episode, Viet Thanh Nguyen and the podcast hosts talk about not just how war is experienced or consume, but how it's remembered and what those memories can mean for the future. Available on Apple Podcast, Spotify, etc.
02
To read / LE CORBUFFET by Esther Choi An artist’s book that subversively appropriates the format of cookbook publishing to explore cultural consumption. These Fluxus-inspired consumption of dishes referred to canonical artists, designers, and architects, and their heralded works in the Western canon. As a commentary on the status of art, food and design as commodities to be "gobbled up" by the market, the project deliberately twisted idioms to explore what we choose to create, consume and reproduce.
To watch (live) / CHRISTA EHRLICH: PIONEER IN DESIGN Christa Ehrlich, who one hundred years ago moved from Austria to the Dutch town of Voorschoten, where she designed innovative modern silverware. She experimented with modernist design and the language of the machine, creating objects that offered a striking contrast to the classic silverware being produced at that time. Museum De Lakenhal, Leiden Oude Singel 32, 2312 RA Leiden
#Bnieuwd To watch / THE COMPLETE SATOSHI KON A film series dedicated to the late animated film director and artist Satoshi Kon. His legacy includes bizzare and mind boggling alternative universe and storyline. In this series, the movies line-up are "Tokyo Godfather, Perfect Blue, Millennium Actress, and Paprika. If you are a fan of Spirited Away or Ghost in the Shell, these movies are the perfect fit for you. Until 23.05.2022 KINO, Gouvernestraat 129-133, 3014 PM Rotterdam
To do/ ROTTERDAM SKETCHING EXCURSION URBANISTAS RDAM URBANISTA RDAM is a Rotterdam-based network and platform for womxn - women and everyone who identifies as such - working on the city. We believe in bringing them together to help and celebrate each other. Together with Lisa ten Brug, they are organising a tour to discover the hidden spaces of Rotterdam and practice your drawing skills. https://www.urbanistasrdam.nl Date TBH, 14:00-16:00 Price: 5 EURO Rotterdam
Don't forget to check out our WEBSITE bnieuws.nl You'll find all the old issues in the archive, for hours of reading pleasure! Follow us on INSTAGRAM for updates @bnieuws
03
Pen pal
VISIBLE MAKES INVISIBLE Words Vineet Dhall
A tale of neither man or woman that are the face of the crowd and not the crowd. Unknown makes unloved, an interesting proverb isn’t it? Just by definition one can associate unknown with unfamiliarity, something that is yet to be revealed, or maybe something we share a complex dialect with. Through my limited experience, I have also felt how we often don’t fear the unknown, but rather what we project onto the unknown. Being Indian, my “limited experience” obviously would like to peel one such complexity that is part of the Indian fabric, but that over time has mutated into different roles and identities within the society.
The Indian trans women community commonly referred as Hijra have shared a strong lineage within the history of the subcontinent. Their history spans over 400- years and is mentioned in many historical/ religious texts. The community is a testament to the often questioned/misjudged sexual diversity that is integral yet often ignored or forgotten in the Indian culture. In this case, maybe unknown means misunderstood, and disregarded. Besides Yoga and spicy food, you might also be aware about Kama sutra. Including many other Hindu ancient literature, the Hijra community also share a significant presence in the Hindu text on sexual behaviour that was written sometime between 400BC and 200CE.
04
Mahabharata and Ramayana, one of the most widely known Hindu texts, contribute to various plots of the story and with strong associations to the Hindu deity Shiva. One of his forms include him merging with his wife, Parvati, to become and androgynous Ardhanari, who holds special significance between the Hijra community. Beyond these texts, they shared various positions in the courts and ceremonies of the Mughal-era around the 16th Portrait of Hijras, in the series Hijra - Eunuchs. (Madhura Kamat)
century. They held religious authorities and were sought out for blessings, being highly revered amongst people. Some texts also enamoured their role as sexless watchdogs to the Mughal Harems. They seem to have done everything, haven’t they. I wonder what changed. While Hijras have always been treated with both fear and respect, their presence in society is undeniable. In this case, being known makes one revered, celebrated or feared. But maybe fear came from a certain acknowledged power, as we can often associate these traits to royalties. While this community has been respected for thousands of years, their reputation did not survive the nation's encounter with colonialism. It comes as a surprise that, having colonised much of Southern Asia, the British were very much shocked by the ubiquitousness of the third gender. Following Victorian’s religious and societal beliefs, the British labelled Hijra’s as criminals around 1870, and instructed immediate arrest on sight. Maybe known makes delinquent. 200 years of persistent stigmatisation took a toll on the identity and semblance of the community, epitomised with the official criminalisation of “carnal intercourse against the order of nature.” That was the beginning, scholars say, of a mainstream discomfort in India with homosexuality, transgender people and Hijras. The modern day Hijras, that includes transgender and intersex people, are hard to miss. Dressed in Sarees with faces coated in cheap makeup, they move through crowded roads, going from one car window to the other, exchanging blessings for a coin. A lot might have changed, but the stigma or superstition around the cursing power of Hijras still exists, something that they often trade off this uneasiness. They hold special convivialities within them, with even “drag mothers” present, having the role in laying down the rules and hierarchy within the community. You can find them dancing at temples, crashing weddings and bridal showers, signing and eventually leaving with a fistful of rupees. Their presence is often tainted and unappreciated, something that needs to change within the slow yet steady growth of LGBT communities in India. As they make their way into weddings, the same words appear in the air:
Oh God, the Hijras have arrived...
This nervous pause is often followed by laughter and joy, and a general feeling of both fear and bliss. But behind these theatricality lie the troubled stories of an uneasy existence. Stories of sexual trade and abuse, exploitations, being case out and humiliation. They are often excluded from employment and educational opportunities, which leads to a povertystricken life, where one is forced to resort to begging, prostitution for basic survival.
05
Within India’s LGBT community, the Hijras maintain their own somewhat secretive subculture. And more often than not, they are victims of violence,abuse and harassment by police, and even refused treatments in hospitals. From known, to unknown, to exclusion, they feel a sense of alienation. However, their strong subculture and gurus navigate them through a network of operations. Because of this, they often operate like gangs, setting up disputes amongst themselves. Recently, Hijras have regained some of the rights and freedoms which they have been denied. By 2014, India, Nepal, and Bangladesh had all officially recognized third gender people as citizens deserving of equal rights. The supreme court of India has stated, ‘the right of every human to choose their gender. The issue has been recognised as not just a social or medical one, rather a question regarding human rights. There has been a shift in open education and job opportunities. While the progress is slow, Rajgarh and Kochi have seen elected Hijra officials and open hiring systems. The government has also initiated protection policies towards transgender persons, by criminalising offense against them These are some positive steps, but the majority of Hijra still live on the street, Despite their power to bless prosperity to Hindu families.
06
Many societies have groups who are not celebrated, who are not acknowledged. Hijras are a major example that is often overlooked. Maybe a lack of understanding of the history and equity leaves them unknown. Their repudiation leaves them unloved. Maybe the definition of unknown makes unloved has many layers in this case, and such awareness needs addressing. Perhaps the future holds the chance to love the unknown.
When we keep sweeping things under the carpet, we will eventually trip. I wonder when such a fall is going to happen.
Vineet is a student doing his Masters degree in the architecture track at our faculty. He's originally from New Delhi, India.
From the editors
AS THE WIND RISES AND FALLS Words Tuyen Le
If the Netherlands could choose a flag to represent its culture, the wood windmill would be the single most iconic thing to be on it. With such a tight knitted relationship that this country has for wind, the 2000s era has cultivated the wind into energy, and technology no longer evoke the same feelings as the friendly windmill, but rather, aliens in the empty fields, blank obstructions by the lonely highways. While they hold virtually no meaningful cultural values, can we still humanise the industrial wind turbines? Can we care for them as part of the modern relationship that the Netherlands associates with wind as it rises and falls?
Our good ol’ view of the windmill is through its relationship with the wind, land, water, air, and people. Weaved into the daily routines of pumping water, agricultural irrigation, and crop milling, it maintains a nostalgic emotion for the people of the Netherlands. Nonetheless, it also entails the struggle that the Netherlands has with the same elements to this day, and history stands with them through the lens of honour and appreciation. As one moves on to the modern-day wind power here in the Netherlands, they can see the herds of monolithic wind turbines, mindlessly spinning their wings, whereas most of us gaze at them from the window frame of our choice of commute. The industrial “cousin” of these wood windmills, the wind turbine, no one would show interest in visiting or taking photos of them.
07
We can talk about their essential role in reducing the carbon footprint, but what about the wasteful afterlife of wind turbines? In the United States, the cost to decommission one wind turbine ranges from $200,000 to $500,000 1. Because wind power is still a new technology, there are so many unknown questions to a furthermore complicated unknown future for it, and with most wind turbines approaching their expiry date (given the turbines are installed in 2005), their future seems murky, with little prospects for their afterlife. Most of them spend their lives harvesting the wonderful wind power that the Dutch land inherited from the ocean, and as they expire, there is currently nowhere for them to exist anymore, besides landfills. If the land can grow limbs, these wind turbines are the massive wings of the land, with their monolithic white colour, standing as a group in the middle of fields. With only twenty percent of these wings being refurbished in the Netherlands, the process of trading and selling them within the EU is not the hottest market out there, thus, most of the wind turbine parts go through pyrolysis or end up in the landfill. Pyrolysis is an affordable way to “eliminate” the remains of wind turbines through a thermal decomposition process, which involves incinerating the wings into liquid products, and disposing of them as industrial waste. Nonetheless, the preferred route of disposal has been the landfill.
08
From start to finish, the identity of wind turbines is neglected by humans and the sustainable power industry. We love the sustainable energy from these turbines, but the options to “blow” another life into these giants are skimmed. These burial sites of the broken wings are detached from our mind, especially for a country that has such an intimate connection with wind, the Dutch energy sector now views these turbines like cigarette butts: you flick them on the ground, stomp on them, and forget about it. These thoughts matter the most when the future of sustainability is cloaked in its own downfall - a wasteful future. While the majority of the EU is seeking to close down landfills as a way to encourage recycling. However, being made from a combination of complex polymer and fibreglass, the turbine wings are essentially unrecyclable, being made from a combination of complex polymer and fibreglass. By forcing closure on landfill, there might be a chance of redemption at the earlier stage of production. Globalisation has stripped away the meaningful presence of sustainable products such as solar panels, and electric car batteries. Because of their inorganic appearance, not being fabricated from nature, they lost a sense of humanised tether, colour, and selfexpression. In order to reclaim the heritage of the Netherlands' identity with wind, it is important to nourish the wind turbines, as they are the physical embodiment of wind power, just like the special relationship it has with the wooden windmills.
1. Joeman, Iref. Alternatives on afterlife use of amortized wind
turbine blades in the Netherlands. University of Twente. 2019. Images from: Left: Wind turbine farm. (rawpixel), right: Fragments of wind turbine blades at the Casper Regional Landfill in Wyoming. (Benjamin Rasmussen)
From the editors
THE ART OF THE COMMUTE Words Alessandro Rognoni
In many ways, projects for urban transit deal with the act of commuting, one that is essential to urban life as we know it. Recognising, embracing and loving the commute might be the key to joy in the increasingly alienating metropolis; to do so, we may have to look back at times when such concerns were at the core of urban design.
Repetition is intrinsic to our times. As we spend our nights out, we dance to electronic music; we watch and rewatch sit-coms and Marvel films with the same plot; we scroll and scroll, and scroll again. In many aspects of our diverse lives, we find poetry in monotony. We taught ourselves how to swim in the convoluted sea of metropolitan stimuli, of the internet, of contemporary politics. With these things we are somehow familiar; often we are ignorant to them as well. Careless, but comfortable. But while many of our repetitive lifestyles are made by the activities that we choose to do, work is instead a ritual which is imposed on us. And as we think of our lives as stuck in our 9 to 5 loop, we rarely reflect on the 8:35 to 9:00, or the 5:00 to 5:30. The commute, and its bearing in our everyday, is overlooked.
commute and work anymore, will keep their head up, looking at the cityscape passing by, glancing at the details of other people’s clothes. The commute, however dull it may seem, is sacred. It’s where the repetitive quality of our cities resides, one that is fundamental to urban life. In its repetitiveness, it is also something we share, as we take part in the materiality of the city. Commutare, in Latin, means to change together (from com- ‘altogether’ + mutare ‘to change’. Changing from place to place, or changing underground lines, suggest a movement that is common, of common ownership, for everyone to enjoy, take part in, or watch in detachment. Lastly, one that is innate to the common citizen, who
“How long does it take you to go to work?” I have been frequently asked. I also question myself on this, very often, as I compulsively check the quickest route on Google. This mindset carries a danger with it, that the commute can be considered merely as an utilitarian act, a means to go-to, and arrive-backfrom. Then that will be it: everyone on the bus with an arm under their armpits, and the other holding their devices; a bad posture to hold for 45 minutes of your day. Just those over a certain age, who don’t Bob Noorda, Franco Albini and Franca Heig's design for the Metro 1 in Milan. (1957)
09
doesn't stand out in the Mercedes parade, and doesn't shy away from the play of the city, and enjoys disappearing in the crowd. When we commute we exercise our “right to the city”, we participate, and share responsibility to certain places. The tube station, the bus interior, the cycling lane, or the road crossing are the stages of our everyday life. They are extremely popular. Anyone who lives in Rotterdam would have been in station Blaak at least once, enjoying the sequence of colours and tiles, the weirdly ornamented escalators, or maybe that ‘ordinary’ archaeological display. More importantly, they have a common language, they speak to the citizens in similar ways according to place. They take responsibility in representing the city as a whole, of being its ultimate image, one that is either pop or niche, to our own desire.
10
Interestingly enough, there were specific moments in history when transit spaces were proposed as an idea, and as a project, aspiring for the invention, and re-invention, of the metropolis. From the Belle’ Epoque in Paris, to the post-war period in New York, to 1960’s Hong Kong; these were moments in which the project of the moving city came to be an interest to public authorities, and to designers. In the city of Milan, this interest came to fruition after WWII, when Amsterdam-born Bob Noorda was asked by architect Franco Albini to design the graphics for the new Metro1. Franco Albini and Franca Helg, who we commissioned to draft the interiors of the city’s first underground system in 1957, were looking for someone to reinforce ideas behind their proposal, one that brought symbolic
Still from Wong Kar Wai's "Fallen Angels" (1995) set in Hong Kong's MTR system.
simplicity at the core of the project. In their effort to bring space to the backdrop, making objects, and not architecture, appear distinctively, Noorda’s precise graphics provided a certain rhythm to underground movement, enhancing, rather than fracturing, the beauty of monotony and transit. Repetition became the norm and, similarly to a music score, the distance between repeated elements was orchestrated, as a new aesthetic of everyday movement. Noorda’s contribution, which was followed by public transport projects in New York and São Paulo, inspires us to question how we should move as citizens, and what should that movement look like. A question that is fundamental to how public life operates in a world increasingly dependent on mobility, but also one that brings graphics at the centre of it. In fact, the idea for which an urban language, one that speaks with symbols as well as words, could be calculated, drawn and designed , is by no means a recent one. The project of the commute, however, gave to graphic designers a new task, a responsibility to design for the mainstream, and to deal with the temporality and presence of everyday places. In light of this, recent astonishing attempts to design bus and underground stations as independent architectures might fall short on the long term, even if advertised as attempts to bring ‘character’ to the city. In truth, a life of repetition always holds the promise of surprise. A promise that asks us students to be alert, keeping our head up like those who are much older than us.
Archaeological display in Rotterdam Blaak Station. (Alessandro Rognoni)
11
Bob Noorda's design for the Metro 1 in Milan, Italy. (1957)
BK report
THE HOT AND COLD OF DISSEMINATING Words Tuyen Le Image Ifrah Ariff
Before the Internet, architecture enthusiasts relied on magazines to stay up-to-date on the daily happenings in architecture. As humans, our hunger for news and media hastily yearns for opinionated pieces to stimulate our daily life. The users are constantly evolving, how can the publishing houses disseminate their gathered knowledge and content? It is a question the Bnieuws team is involved in to reflect, along with the panellists of professionals form the publishing world during the BK Talk - Disseminate: The Present and future of editorial practice.
12
Andrej Radman, one of the panellists framed the current condition of the editorial practice via Marshall McLuhan’s theory of HOT and COLD media. Hot media showcases a lot of well-sourced data, high resolution, and leaves no room for further interpretation from the audience (podcast, lectures, Facebook); whereas cold media provides less data, low resolution, and allows the audience to fill in the blanks with their own conclusion or opinions (seminars, TikTok, Twitter). They both exists and evolves in the disseminating bubble, however, the audience has become restless, where they want high resolution information and rooms for interpretation.
Most of us suffer from hyper attention disorder, we need to be fed information all the time... but at the same time, we don’t have the attention span of reading more than two pages. These words of Andrej leaves us wondering if we need to introduce a third category… LUKEWARM media in order to satisfy the audience? The answer is no. The “audience” we are introduced here are not ready-made, they represent an entire spectrum of readers and consumers, where they digest media similar to the way they digest food, everyone has
their own preference, which allows for all types of media to exist. Ethel Baraona Pohl of dpr-barcelona sees the practice of writing about architecture as means to create new narratives that tie it with other fields such as daily lives, politics, social issues, and the economy. Cultivating the experiences of a new library, a social housing project can transcend its physical form by connecting the work to its archaeological matters, or to its political stance. Personally, these links are what makes architecture exciting as it permeates into the metaphysical form of the concrete world around us. When these agencies are considered when publishing, the work of disseminating can become more holistic and more involved in the daily lives of the audience. Even with the rise of social media and digital space (and very soon, the Metaverse), the panellists do not see that this is the end of architectural criticism. Writing, curating, and criticising is part of growth for the practice, and when they are not in the form of written articles, they are in the form of memes. Entering the digital space of criticism one must recognize the post-ironic energy that encapsulates the platform. Surprisingly, embracing the flaws and exposing the mediocre aspects of architecture can be quite educational. By applying the hot-cold media concept to this matter, a page with full democracy
and no curation like Arch-daily can be a great resource for everyone who wants to learn more about architecture. The conversion concluded with us questioning the role of digital images and renderings within the context of publishing. Carlo Menon, who has been researching small publication houses for his PhD at Bartlett, talked about how a writer/blogger/ influencer should aim to create a zone where the project can be discussed without beautifying it too much and deliver the images through the eyes of the creator/photographer. The routine is in unison with small or large scale magazine, and seeing these images in different mediums like digital screens, newspaper, or book, can bring another layer to the process of disseminating. The instant gratification one can get from a rendering should not be taken for granted, but at the same time, learning to use these images carefully is an essential part of being a disseminator.
Check out the entirety of the BK Talks - Disseminate: Present and future of editorial practice on YouTube.
13
From the editors
THE FUTURE OF HOME Words and Images Oliwia Jackowska
A few months ago, three students, Saif Ragaei, Ammar Yasser and Mariam Ihab, interviewed by KooZA/rch, realised “how unstable the notion of normal life is by examining the situations where this sense of normalcy is destroyed in a horrific suddenness.” They questioned the fragility of our day to day in the face of political conflict and natural disasters and for the theme of the future of home they sent their contribution of technical drawings of destruction.
14
Competition entry for the future of Home by Saif Ragaei, Ammar Yasser, Mariam Ihab. (KooZA/rch)
This bleak and dreary way of looking at the future, as seen by these three students, might have been still interpreted by some as overly dramatic and unnecessarily pessimistic about two or three months ago. In the end, the resourcefulness of Dutch technology as well as the innovative mindset our university works in solutions and has left no space for despair. Even the grimiest of scenarios are approached with an attitude full of action and feedback loops. However, since the first day of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the world, and especially our world of imaginative and very European academia, was shocked. It has been hard to accept for many, the uselessness of our field. How is this possible? They told us that we can save the world with architecture, and that urbanism can reshape our futures! It is uplifting to imagine a scenario where all are equal, no prejudice exists and we can all commute through a tube directly connected to our living rooms. But where in this discussion about the future do we include the people whose lives have been ripped apart?, asked Saif, Ammar and Mariam. Where are the people whose reality changed drastically and the effects of their trauma are about to continue to manifest over generations? A skewed and unintentionally ignorant point of view comes from lack of understanding what these exciting and utopian-like notions really entail. It comes from lack of empathy. Ultimately, there are situations where no explanation, no plan and no solution can be found. Most extensive horrific acts in the recent decades have been happening at a safe distance from the European every-day and the reality of the "Western World", even though it seemed that peace was hanging on by a thread. But the sanctity of Home has been violated for many, and the images that come from the Ukrainian land leave us feeling robbed of our own humanity. And yet for us, here, they are still just images. Destruction driven by sadistic cruelty and vague imperialistic nightmares ravages the walls of homes, and with the walls everything sacred falls brutally. Those who have the means, family and friends abroad or simply nothing else left to loose, flee their country, their life, and the remains of their homes. With all kinds of pets carried under their arms and hastily decided priorities in the suitcase these brave people march forward ready to build their sacred everything back again, even if wrecked in this new reality. Everything else is gone. The favourite chair fell broken and covered in the ashes that are left from the missiles hitting the floor slab. The bathtub, once an object of warmth and relief is now exposed to the street covered in broken pieces. And the TV, a source of entertainment and hope, shines its shattered screen, its wounded surface, to the sky with all the visions of prospect stubbornly silent. Then, is the point of this article to raise awareness, to start innovating ideas with these complexities in mind? On the contrary, it is simply a plea for empathy, even a passive one, as without it there is no future of home, no future at all really. Empathy for what we do not know and do not understand, so that we can try to love, comprehend and validate experiences that are unimaginable. Sometimes, the transition from here to there is just as simple as recognising our own objects in those displaced far away from the sanctity of home.
15
zumthor
16
17
ily m fa
In Netherlands you can support the Ukrainian people in need for example by donating goods, money or time to Students For Ukraine. @studentsforukraine_
From the editors
WHERE EARTHQUAKES COME AT NIGHT Words Jonas Althuis
At the heart of a city called Kiruna stands an ordinary red brick building, the function of which is conveyed in red capital letters above it's main entrance; Folkets Hus, Swedish for 'community house'. As such, the building houses a variety of public functions; café, cinema, theatre, tourist information centre, souvenir shop, micro-museum. It's a place where the residents of Kiruna can gather, and where visiting tourists can use the bathroom.
Six large triangular bay windows protrude from the south facade of the building, granting passers-by a sight of the activities within. Perhaps more importantly, the walls of glass allows the low winter sun, when it does rise, to gently strike the back wall of the foyer, heating up the space. Some years from now, Kiruna's Folkets Hus and every other building around it, of which there are many, will be completely gone. This is the only thought rolling through my mind as I meander through the room, delaying an inevitable confrontation with the cold. A large printed display covers one wall of the room, a map of the city, with different sections of the central area highlighted in different colours, accompanied by years ranging from 2020 to 2032. It's an overview of the different phases of the plan; the plan to move the entire city centre three kilometres eastward. Kiruna, located 1957 kilometres north-northeast of our faculty in Delft, is home to the biggest underground iron ore mine in the world. The mining operation, nowadays run by state-owned company LKAB, has been extracting iron ore from the mine since 1898. Technological advancements have allowed LKAB to continuously scale up the operation, and they've consequently ventured deeper
and deeper to empty the mine of it's iron. Unfortunately, the body of iron ore is slanted such that it's deepest reaches lie underneath Kiruna's city centre. The operations of the mine, currently taking place at roughly 800 meters below ground level, have caused the ground above to destabilise and subside. To continue mining without endangering the city and its residents, the city centre will be moved three kilometres to the east. That is to say, a number of historically significant buildings will be moved while the majority of buildings, including the Folkets Hus, will be demolished. Outside, the cold wind stings. It's the 23rd of March. The sky is clear, suggesting that the day may warm up as the sun comes. It doesn't. Accompanied by two friends I venture into the city to look around. In some places, the snow and ice that has built up on the ground over the course of winter has concealed the streets and sidewalks beneath, blurring them into one surface, equalising automobile and pedestrian. Due to the city's topography, characterised by a slight decline towards the mine to the southwest, the 'mountain' that houses the mine is nearly always visible as you walk around the centre. It's looming presence is a constant reminder of why the city exists in the first place; the mine and it's iron. Though it used to be a mountain, it's sides have by
< Kiruna's wooden Church, with Kiirunavaara, the mountain that houses the LKAB mine, in the distance. (Jonas Althuis)
19
now been shaped unnaturally by waste rock, stacked in layers like a cake by the mining operation. The awareness that everything around you is inextricably bound to be demolished as you walk through the streets of Kiruna begets an unusual feeling. You can see it on the buildings, which are slowly deteriorating under unremitting northern winters without maintenance. Paint stripping, little by little, from stuccoed walls, wooden façades, and window frames. The build-up of dirt where rain has come washing by on concrete walls. It makes sense, I start to realise; why should anyone; landlord, home-owner, or otherwise, be expected to paint their window frames or exterior walls when all is to be left behind and demolished anyways? It's exactly the level of maintenance by which you can tell you've crossed out of the bounds of the 'demolition zone', the buildings across this invisible but critical divide look like they're in a much better state, and the suburbia here is quite pleasant to walk through.
20
After a few stops on our cold walk through Kiruna, including one at the beautiful Kiruna church (which will be deconstructed and rebuilt in the new city) we end up back at the Folkets Hus. Previously unknown to us, a visitor experience in the mine has been organised for our group by the travel service that we're travelling with, and an LKAB bus is waiting for us. A thirty minute bus ride takes us into the depths of the mine, to about 300 meters below ground level. Here, LKAB has a visitor centre in a part of the mine that's no longer active. It's difficult to appreciate the shear scale of the operation and the infrastructure necessary to facilitate it until you see it from up close. And it's clear that the company cares about their image, because the production value of the visitor centre seems to be quite high; there's a great tour guide that explains to us the ins and outs of the operation, there's a cinema room to play an informative video, there's a walk through the tunnels with unused machines that you can look inside, there's intricate models and displays that explain how the mine works, there's even a cafe where we're served tea
and coffee with cookies. Every time we think we've reached the end of the tour, there's more. After several hours, we're brought back to the Folkets Hus, and I'm left in a state of awe. Awe at the size of the operation and it's intricacies. Awe at what humans are capable of. Awe at the efforts of LKAB to impress visitors and exhibit their importance. Perhaps the most interesting thing about the mining operation is that they do the explosive blasting necessary to remove the iron ore from the rock at night time, causing small earthquakes that can supposedly be felt in the city above. The reason for this is that at night there's the least amount of workers in the mine, putting less people's lives at risk. Interestingly, this makes the night shift one of the most wanted jobs, as the higher risk work is compensated with extra pay. Though the move of Kiruna sounds like a grand plan that won't come to fruition until the distant future, that's really not the case, the plan is already underway. The heart of the new city centre; the new town hall and the square around it, have already been constructed. From there, new streets sprawl outwards, some already lined with new buildings, others still empty. A number of the buildings selected as historically significant have already been moved, in their entirety, to their new locations. Residents in the areas closest to the mine have begun moving to the new centre, and will continue to do so in the coming years. The last phase of 'emptying' the old city should be completed around 2032. Of the 18000 total residents of the city, about 6000 have been asked to move; one third of the population. Owners of homes in the 'demolition zone' have been compensated by LKAB either with money (market price of their home plus 25%) or simply with a new home in the new city. What happens to those that don't want to move? LKAB will take them to court; it says so on their website, albeit in more gracious (and more convoluted) language. Though some residents have left Kiruna altogether instead of moving to the new city, most
21
Comparison of current satellite images of Kiruna (top), and White Arkitekter's winning 100-year masterplan for the new city (bottom). Images from Google Earth and whitearkitekter.com
residents are complying. This is not surprising given that much of Kiruna's population works for LKAB or indirectly make their living through the mine and the tourists it attracts. Besides that, many years have passed since the initial decision to move was made in 2004, so there's been a lot of time to get used to the idea of moving. Because of this, it's talked about very casually, as something that must and will happen, which can be jarring as an outsider.
between incredulity about how okay Kiruna residents seems to be with moving, and empathy for their perspective on the situation. Torn between disgust at a masterplan that literally shows the current city wiped from the map, and curiosity for the new city that will be built. For better or for worse, Kiruna is moving, and only time will tell what the consequences will be.
In the days following my visit to Kiruna, I felt torn. Torn between fascination for the mining operation, and shock at the idea that an entire city centre would be demolished and rebuilt elsewhere for it. Torn
There's much more to Kiruna's story than I've told here, so if you're curious to know more, I suggest reading The Architectural Review's article about Kiruna, titled
Moving costs: history and identity in Kiruna, Sweden.
From the editors
CHALLENGING STEPS Words and Images Inez Margaux Spaargaren
Dear Bnieuws reader, It can sometimes be tough to take challenging steps. The theme of this Bnieuws follows from the unknown. What is it like abroad? I have asked myself this question lately, so I decided to take action…
This March, I moved to Berlin. The city intrigued me for a longer time already, and an opportunity came up to live there for a month. I grabbed this opportunity and looked into whether living in Berlin would be an option for me. In addition, I was always curious about how architects' offices were in Berlin. So I e-mailed several firms, visited the most enthusiastic ones, and interviewed exciting people. In this issue, I will be introducing KINZO. This firm made a very open and unique impression on me.
22
KINZO is an interior architecture office located in the middle of Berlin at Checkpoint Charlie. As the story is told, KINZO is established by three architects (Karim El-Ishmawi, Martin Jacobs, Chris Middleton). At first, KINZO was a dance club located in Berlin, built with their own hands. This club helped them build the foundation of the architectural office. They are currently working with international companies to get the best interior designs with their holistic design approach, which you can see straight away when you enter the office. The middle of the office area is a very bright and cosy shared room, divided into three areas: kitchen, lunch space, and material library. I've been told they have lunch, meetings and breaks here. And once every week on Tuesday, they have a meeting with everyone in the office to get to know the ongoing projects and achievements. This conversation is with three young interior architects working and living in Berlin: Maren, Sophie and Samira. How long have you been working at KINZO? Maren: I started my master's 3 years ago. After graduating, I decided to work at the university, did some own projects, and started working at Kinzo half a year ago.
How is working at KINZO for you? Maren: I think we're about 50 or 55 people, so you can work in different teams and on different projects. I got to work with many different people, which I very much like. When you're addressed to a new project, you create a team, and everyone does their part. At the same time, you can work in another team and work on a completely different aspect of a project. So there is a lot of diversity and flexibility when it comes to working in different teams. It helps me a lot to get new inspiration because I don't work with the same people every day. For example, I have a main project team, but it could be that people are joining you for furniture research or 3D modelling. What made you decide to go from working on your own projects to working for a firm (Kinzo)? Maren: When I was working on my own projects, unfortunately, my companion wanted to stop at a certain point and do something else in the architecture field. So I decided to do work on my own direction, and wanted to start at Kinzo to get more experience. I wanted to learn how to organize projects, see how a structure in an office works and what is necessary next to the design part. What projects does KINZO work mostly on? Maren: If you look at Kinzo's website, you see a lot of offices. We're the most experienced in making office spaces and some hospitality as far as I know. How is the working environment structured? Samira: All the teams are primarily working together at the same table. We have a clean desk policy which means that you can work anywhere you want; you just have to clean the desk when you leave so someone else can work on it. But since Covid, we also have people working from home, so our working spots were already very flexible, but now even more. What's designing like as a KINZO architect? Maren: The main point of designing like a KINZO architect is making new working spaces with innovative work structures. We try not to make a standard office or the work structure everyone is used. We try to look one step further and adjust the plan as much as possible to the client and take the branding into account.
23
How would you describe the work environment at KINZO? Samira: In general, everyone is very chill, open and respectful. There is a very informal way of dressing; you don't have to show yourself in a suit. Also, KINZO has a very young team that can reflect on the openness and informal way of working. How do you start a project at KINZO? Sophie: The central part is communication with clients. It is crucial to work closely with a client to analyse what they want. So you propose options that could be better or give impressions of what it could look like. This helps get to know the client and make the perfect work environment for them. What did you study? Sophie and Samira: In Germany, you have sixteen university cities. Most of these are pretty small or not that attractive. Some are bigger and nicer to study, like Berlin. We both studied in different cities than Berlin, although the job made us come to Berlin. In Berlin, you have plenty of architectural offices to work at. It's a good place to get inspired by and work in the same environment. Doing an internship in Berlin is also an excellent opportunity to explore if the city is good for you. Is it common in Germany to have an internship at an office? Sophie: In some studies, it is organized in the study structure, so offices in Berlin and around Berlin know of internships and mostly pay a reasonable salary. If you do an internship, you can get a feeling of working in the architecture branch and give you a more detailed perspective on if you want to work in that environment.
24
As an intern at KINZO, do you have to be an interior architect? Sophie: No, it's also possible to be an architect, product designer or other roles. We love to have many different backgrounds in our team, which makes the design process even more accessible. This interview is written to give inspiration or give more desire to work or study abroad. Also, to give you a perspective on an architectural company and how young architects describe what working at KINZO is like. Take a look at their website to know more about them!
KINZO's website: kinzo-berlin.de
BK report
HER DRAWING Words & Images Alessandro Rognoni & Oliwia Jackowska
“The Architect, History and Her Drawing” is an exhibition organised by the students of the Architectural History Thesis course taught by Jurjen Zeinstra in the first and second semester.
Originally, the elective aimed at the analysis of drawings as a methodology for historical research, an approach that has consistently been proposed by Zeinstra in the last few academic years. However, this time a common fascination, among students, towards drawings by female architects brought the chance to undertake a more collective research. One that would specifically look at unrepresented, forgotten and unacknowledged architects and designers, with particular attention to their perspective drawings. Seven students looked at drawings from seven architects, including their life, context and work: Marion Mahony Griffin (18711961); Dorothy Draper (1889-1969); Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky (1897-2000); Ray Eames (19121988); Jean Bodman Fletcher (1915-1965); Florence Knoll (1917-2019) and Anne Tyng (1920-2011). As we decided to review such a significant effort, attempting to give it a longer life than the two-weeklong display at the library, we talked to Ani Dosheva, who participated in the exhibition with her research on Dorothy Draper. In her words, the choice of the perspective aimed at “treating the drawing as a view”, into the visionary ideas of unrepresented architects, as well as into their mind, aspirations, and personalities. The perspective, therefore, became a consistent subject of analysis by all seven students, and as a starting point for a range of analyses and investigations into the context in which the drawings were created. In Ani’s view, such consistency, but Photos of the preparation, by the elective team.
25
26
Photos of the exhibition.
also limitation to one own’s freedom to research by their own rules, allowed for a more rigorous, precise and explicit approach to feminist history. Nonetheless, such precision comes to the surface in the exhibition, which offers the possibility to compare histories, as well as to learn from them. Writing women's history - a review The exhibition’s primary message is on the inequality of representation in recorded history. When we look at an architectural drawing we imagine, almost by default, that it is drawn by a male hand. But the exhibit fills the gap where drawings historically attributed to the work of male starchitects, were in fact drawn by women, or the body of work of amazing female designers was deemed almost completely irrelevant for history of architecture and design. This tells something about the power of those who are writing history and the impact of their decisions. Talking with Ani, we learned that, as is often the case with any attempt to fill in the gap of women’s history, the access to original materials was scarce and the few hand drawings that were to be found often were so badly documented that it was hard to tell what they were of. As Ani investigated a drawing of Dorothy Draper, she was looking at work of an American designer with a celebrity status during her time. Draper was the most famous interior designer, the first one to make it into business with so much success. She was the top of New York, yet we have never heard of her. The lack of well-recorded drawings might come from the fact that her work was not recorded by outsiders as it was the case with her male contemporaries, while Draper as a businesswoman had no time nor space to record it meticulously herself.
called for a strong promotion campaign that would project an image of a quick, comfortable, and safe way to travel. Therefore, Draper was employed as her reputation and her branded name would convey that message. Coming from high society, it was common for women to decorate at the time, and she knew how to brand herself by writing books and targeting the right audience. And this is something that Ani wanted to bring to light, as did her course mates with the other female figures presented in the exhibition. Seeing the range of drawings throughout the twentieth century in Europe and the US, promotes the female figure in the architecture and design of that time. However, as mentioned by our interviewee, the exhibition and theses’ focus on the drawing embedded so strongly in the past, left little space to investigate the impacts on the contemporary world of design. While, personally, I believe that writing women’s history is equally as crucial as addressing bias issues in the now, the focus on deconstructing a drawing sets certain limits to the interpretation. The methodology of the course started as an attempt to read history through drawings that were previously not analysed. It was in the process of it that everyone involved was fascinated by the fact that the drawings they chose, were all created by women, and hence the drawers became the protagonists rather than the drawings. In the context of our education and practice we can question what the best method is, but what we can learn from the exhibit is that the recording of history will change in time, and we can apply these new lessons in how we record the contemporary.
The exhibition was on display between the 14th and 28th of April, 2022 in the BK Library Foyer. Participants of this exhibition were: Benjamin Bomben, Ani
The drawing investigated by Ani was key, not only in the context of Dorothy Draper’s work, but also in the history of design and technology. The evolution of aeroplanes into a commercial transport business
Dosheva, Andreas Giagkou, Dick Klijn, Daria Khramova, Angeliki Sykiotis, Stein Johansen and Jil Weber.
27
Pen pal
THE MINT SITUATION Words Nathan Kramer
The following is a confession: I have developed a ‘thing’ for mint syrup. There are quite a bunch of those aluminium bottles with the greeny, gooey, sticky, funky fresh liquid staring at me from the fridge. Not to even mention the bulk bottle staring down from the countertop, judgingly. My friends had gotten air of this and given me beakers with mint leaves and what not at parties. I’m not complaining.
So what led to all this? A bit of digging reveals that it might have been my high school chemistry book to blame: one exercise specifically mentioned the drink as a way to teach about concentration: a little too much syrup and “you’d feel disgusted”.
28
There is, however, a slight catch. Mint syrup is not available on the Dutch market yet. Sure, there might be ‘lemon-mint blends’ or ‘virgin mojito specials’, but those are but feeble simulacra of the Green Giant’s nectar and taste nothing like the real thing. No, this green stuff is something more of the French-speaking countries. But surely, there must be a way to get mint syrup somewhere in the Netherlands? Well, there are import options to consider, such as getting it via a detour through electronics shops, but spending €7 on a single bottle of toothpaste broth feels like a bit of a waste. However, I found out that the most cost-effective way of getting the stuff is to simply know who in my social circle is in French territory at points in time. Trade routes were established, bottles passed under tables during lectures, paper cups were filled. My parents were one of the first to get in on the stuff with me: the bottles started coming in more and more regularly. One per month at first, two, six. At a
certain point, the excitement turned to expectation, with the bottles becoming no more of an oddity than the air in the room. Eventually, groups were set up to coordinate the effort and looked for places in the Dutch market to fit in the stuff. I tried making it myself in the kitchen with some leaves, sugar and boiling water: the colour looked like piss, but the taste got there, eventually. As it turns out, there are many different ways of making something out of the syrup: Southern France has something called the ‘Diabolo’, or devil. Base of mint syrup, mixed with Sprite, 7Up or something similar, add a mint leaf for flair and voilà. I figured that a bit of seltzer mixed with the syrup and a bit of ice would make for an excellent nightcap: this might induce a temporary sugar-high, but cause the user to doze off quickly afterwards. Once the right mixture was found, I started thinking about pitching to beverage companies with the groups. Though sceptical at first, after a few drinks the negotiations went a lot smoother. It happened one hot spring night, when my empire of bottles began to take over. The details of the event must have been lost on me, because I wasn’t expecting it in any way, though in hindsight, the clues were always there. The aluminium castle blocking the doorway. Flies getting stuck in the goo. Undelivered packages. Texts. Neighbours on a detour. As I was going out for the daily nightcap, one of the bottles fell from the countertop, causing me to trip and fall. Vitamins and other nutrients were added to the mixture, which proved to be very beneficial for new markets: with a low cost of production and easy access to resources, many markets took up the syrup in their diet. It is rumoured that the Coca-Cola Company sent out letters, begging, though the groups never responded to any of them. It didn’t take long for them to get merged.
Years passed. Despite everything, production went steadily upwards and with the added support of automation and resource extraction, syrup overtook water quicker than expected. It is rumoured that it became more or less the only viable option in many countries, even though concerns were raised about the soil depletion caused by sugar and mint as an invasive species. It didn’t take long for those rumours to be considered invasive too. I woke up in a field of burning sugar cane. The sky looked funny. Bottles were scattered across the field, some opened up with sharp objects, building up light inside, igniting the fires. The whirring reflections of bottles moving around was dizzying. It smelled. Looking around, the horizon was mostly empty, except for what appeared to be two church spires, standing amidst the aluminium rubble. While looking at the silvery green moon, I dozed back off. 29
Nathan is pursuing a Master in the Architecture track at the Faculty of Architecture, Urbanism and the Built Environment, TU Delft.
30
Artefact
DOPPELGÄNGER Words & Images Alessandro Rognoni
Historically, in fiction and mythology, a doppelgänger is portrayed as a ghostly double, a paranormal oddity, and harbinger of bad luck. Meeting ourselves, and being left disappointed, it’s a terrifying thought nonetheless. So we avoid listening to our own recordings: we’d rather deal with calculated selfies, or premeditated TikTok performances, then listen to our voice at its natural state.
Sometimes, buildings also have their own doppelgänger. Ghost from their own past, shifting in scale, purpose, function, but still with identical appearance. In Oostplantsoen, on the north-western edge of the historic centre of Delft, stands the double of our faculty in Julianalaan. Part of the same scheme, and designed by the same architect, it once housed premises for the faculty of civil engineering. Now it serves as a residential building, following its release to the market. With a closer look, one can get a glimpse of its flats, with mezzanines compensating for its monumental scale, as well as clothes hanging (and cats munching) on the window sills. A reality that, ironically, our own faculty might be destined to.
31
BECOME A PEN PAL! We are always searching for new voices to join and contribute to Bnieuws. Whether your talents are in writing, drawing, photography, graphic design, or you’re filled with a range of skills, we would love to hear from you if you have any ideas for the faculty periodical. If you would like to be on our contributors list, simply send an email with your ideas to: bnieuws-BK@tudelft.nl or sign up on our website: bnieuws.nl/contact
NEXT ISSUE: MISTAKES "OOPSIE DAISY!", exclaimed in total shock. Shame and self-deprecation are the feelings we experience when we make a small mistake. But when we zoom out a bit, away from the personal square we are in, what are the mistakes that have brought along blissful celebrations, inventions, happy accidents? And what are the mistakes that have brought nothing but pain, grievance, and hatred? Bnieuws 55/05 due June 2022.
