Civic Friche Vol 1 by Civic Friche

civic friche

ISSUE no. 01

JOURNAL OF EMERGENT URBANITY

civicandthe fricheand t lesfrigos 2010 thereisaasu

January 15 2011 – March 31 2011 Béthune Béthune, capitale régionale de la culture 2011

photo Talia Pinto-Handler

Dans le cadre de Béthune, Capitale régionale de la culture, Le centre d’art Lab-labanque propose de produire et d’accueillir en ses murs un projet « design » en partenariat avec l’ESBA-Valenciennes et le VIAParis. Les manifestations se dérouleront durant l’année 2011.

« l’appartement, une métaphore du monde » PROJET DE RECHERCHE ET D’EXPERIMENTATION AUTOUR DE LA NOTION D’HABITER Le langage courant utilise indistinctement les mots « habitat », « habitation », « habiter » pour évoquer le logement ou la manière de se loger. Pourtant ces mots recoupent des niveaux de réalité différents dont leur définition et leur interrelation peuvent nous renseigner sur la condition d’existence des sociétés humaines. Ainsi le mot habitat, dès son origine, définit le milieu géographique adapté à la vie d’une espèce. Il renseigne tout autant sur le milieu géographique que sur les mœurs. Quant à l’habitation elle est synonyme de « logement ». C’est la recherche d’un « chez soi », d’une « manière d’être ». L’habitation contribue à la personnalité de chacun. Enfin, habiter ; le sens de ce verbe possède une dimension existentielle. Chez Heidegger c’est une manière d’être présent au monde et à autrui. Habiter n’est donc pas un refuge, une protection contre le monde extérieur. Bien au contraire, « c’est parce que l’homme habite que son habitat devient habitation » (Thierry Paquot). Ainsi, ce projet entend traiter la question du logement à partir de celle de l’habiter. Les étudiants impliqués dans cette recherche devront s’immerger autant dans « l’appartement » du centre d’art Lab-Labanque que dans le contexte urbain de Béthune, là où se croisent et se maillent dans un rapport complexe l’économie, le social, le sociétal, le technologique, le culturel, etc. ; un ensemble de facteurs qui détermine les conditions matérielles d’existence sur un territoire, ici et maintenant. En même temps, Ils auront à cœur de projeter des situations qui interrogent les manières d’être à soi même et à autrui, et de dessiner un monde de l’intime et du commun dans ses dimensions imaginaire et symbolique.al, le technologique, le culturel, etc. ; un ensemble de facteurs qui

détermine les conditions matérielles d’existence sur un territoire, ici et maintenant.

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>> in issue oh-one

Marie Combes Fragment indétérminé, Fragment indéfini

Tyler Willis Cheap Thrills

Jackie Kow Site Marker

Lauren Bebry Eat me I’m Beautiful

I v a n A d e l s o n + Ta l i a P i n t o Handler Vice @ LU

Kayla Lim Is it OK to Shimmy at the Morgue?

Katie Baldwin Gare au Gorille

Brittany Roy Arch. w/Out Architects3.0

101

103

109

L a u r e n Va s e y + M o H a r m o n Squatting Place des Vo s g e s

Mo Harmon Speranza!

Katie Baldwin Emergent Program

Devon Stonebrook Arch + Lace

Bruce Findling Product(ion)

Nathan Doud Spatial Mechanics

Jean Louis Farges Space is Luxury

Patrick Renaud ManĹ&#x201C;uvre

Bruce Findling Seven Meters Thick

113

119

Christophe Ponceau G r e e n Tr a p

Ivan Adelson Anthropomorphics

>> contributors

I VA N ADELSON

JORDAN BUCKNER

N AT H A N I E L DOUD

DEVON STONEBROOK

JACKIE KOW

Ivan Adelson received his Bachelor of Science in Architecture from the University of Michigan. Through investigations of the built form and the pragmatic use of architecture, his work focuses on ways to promote social and cultural engagement while providing proactive solutions to contemporary architectural issues. Ivan is currently attending the University of Michigan’s Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning as a candidate for his Masters in Architecture.

Jordan Buckner is an aspiring designer and architect working to understand and challenge the social and political relationships inherent within architecture. He is also an aspiring romantic who likes to party.

Nathan Doud was, is, and ever shall be a fan of The Simpsons. Through exhaustive research that has spanned the last 23 years (first television appearance: April 19, 1987), he has come to the unavoidable conclusion that everything in life can be related back to that frozen-in-timerepresentation-of-anAmerican-family known as The Simpsons.

Devon has a passion for design as it intersects architecture, fashion, and furniture. She loves digging through vintage shops and flea markets, reinventing old treasures in a fresh way. With a taste for the eclectic, her ideal Sunday afternoon would include family, friends, ice cream, yoga, and a pinch of Lady Gaga.

Jacqueline Kow is a UG3 who is attracted to bright colors, typography, innovative simplicity, logical thinking, movement, makeovers, fashion illustrations, smiley faces, cute animals, and shiny objects. She intrigued by the human psyche and hopes to create designs that affect it. Oh, and she loves the color purple.

M AT T NICKEL

B R I T TA N Y ROY

K AT I E BALDWIN

NOUREEN LAKHANI

(TI)MO(THY) HARMON

Matt Nickel received a bachelor’s degree in European History from Bowdoin College in Brunswick, ME. He is now a professional graduate student in the Master of Architecture program. He is interested in large scale urban architecture projects.

Brittany Roy is currently a UG3 student at the Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning. Her interests include reading the New York Times and studying the interaction between architecture and politics. Her goal is strong architectural political statements. Her mind has been Friched.

Though relatively new to the world of friche, Katie Baldwin has become a fast supporter of the idea of designing buildings for people who use them. Prior to fricheing out, Katie received her undergraduate degree from Bryn Mawr College. She is currently heading into her second year of the 3G program at Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning. Also known as Madame Fromage, Katie can execute a mean parallel parking job.

Noureen Lakhani received an undergraduate degree in Computer Science from DePaul University. She is currently pursuing a dual Master’s degree in Architecture and Urban Design at the University of Michigan, Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning. Her interests include landscape, urbanism and public space.

Mo Harmon is an undergraduate at the University of Michigan’s Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning. He is very excited about the ability of architecture to positively impact its given environment and community. He plans to continue developing his design skills to create socially responsible architecture.

LAUREN VA S E Y

ERIKA L I N D S AY

BRUCE FINDLING

K AY L A LIM

Lauren Vasey received her BSE in 2008 from Tufts University where she studied engineering and had an interest in art history and computer science. She is now in her second year of the 3G M.Arch program at the University of Michigan where her itnerests include emerging technologies, structural innovation, adaptive reuse, and architectural theory. She believes design is intrinsically interdisciplinary, and hopes her varied interests will interrelate to help her create architecture that will first and foremost improve the lives of the people who inhabit it.

restless wanderer. scavenger. innovator. maker. inquisitive about signs of life in strange places. fascinated by human interaction with constructed environment. seeks solace with collective anonymity. finds refuge in great bodies of water.

Bruce Findling is a 2nd year graduate student at the University of Michigan. Whether he’s wielding a hammer, a laptop. or a sixer of Pabst Blue Ribbon, Bruce gets it done and has the scars to back it up. Just make sure the beer is cold and the first aid is ready...

Kayla Lim is a recent graduate from Taubman College’s undergraduate architecture program. Although some believe she should ditch academia and become a performer, she is planning on applying to graduate school this fall. Unless, of course, you have a really hot architecture job to offer her.

TA L I A P I N T O HANDLER

TYLER Willis

LAUREN BEBRY

Talia Pinto-Handler received her Bachelor’s of Science in Architecture at the Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning in May of 2010. Her interests in architecture are closely tied to contemporary projects that address issues of social stratification of the environment and the relationship between built form and the sociopolitical climate. Talia will be attending the Yale School of Architecture this fall in the Master’s of Architecture 1 program.

Tyler Willis is a UG3 and has a wide array of artistic interests from architecture to industrial design, sculpture, and music. He hopes to continue creating and exploring the vast realm of the arts.

As a master’s student at UM’s TCAUP, this fricher likes exploring ideas of re-use and re-appropriation, sustainability, and architecture’s impact on human physiology. Out of studio, she enjoys eating, running, reading for pleasure, maps, questions and New York City. She seriously dislikes asparagus and spiders.

Le criminel essaie dâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;effacer toute trace de son forfait, et ne veux surtout pas quâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;on le retrouve. - Patrick Bouchain

>> statement A paradoxical coupling of terms – the institutional with the abandoned – Civic Friche refers to the tactical appropriation of marginal sites for public function. Distinct from traditional strategies of reuse, Civic Friche describes a new approach to urbanism through civic initiative, temporary and interim uses, and public participation.

photo Talia Pinto-Handler

This spring 17 students from the Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning traveled to France and Belgium to investigate the most important examples of this phenomenon and to speak with the architects, landscape architects, urban installation artists and politicians involved in the design and implementation of Civic Friche strategies.

CREATIVE DIRECTION Anya Sirota | Jean Louis Farges | Steven Christensen

SENIOR PHOTO EDITOR Lauren Vasey

PHOTO EDITORS Jackie Kow Erika Lindsay

DIRECTING MANAGER Nathaniel Doud

INFORMATION SPECIALIST Kayla Lim

PRODUCTION MANAGER Bruce Findling

FASHION EDITOR Devon Stonebrook

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Ivan Adelson Katie Baldwin Lauren Bebry Jordan Buckner Noureen Dadani Nathaniel Doud Bruce Findling Talia Pinto-Handler Mo Harmon Kayla Lim Erika Lindsay Jacqueline Kow Matt Nickel Brittany Roy Devon Stonebrook Lauren Vasey Tyler Willis

What they discovered is that Civic Friche is above all an ideology. A term that resists translation (wasteland being its most direct and reductive English counterpart), Friche has been embraced as a opportunistic strategy with liberating potential. Like a Gilles Clement landscape, an architecture of friche speculates that the built environment can be set into motion, cultivating emergent behaviors over an indeterminate span of time. A friche site, whether reappropriated or new, begins with an intimate understanding of the physical and cultural context, yet it assumes that things will change. New programs will emerge. Cultural and economic shifts will invariably take place. Technology will charge ahead. The architect, released from the post of dogmatic creator, envisions solutions that may be fragmented, temporary, cheeky, and even subversive. Jordan Buckner Nathaniel Doud Bruce Findling Talia Pinto-Handler Mo Harmon Kayla Lim Jacqueline Kow Brittany Roy Devon Stonebrook Lauren Vasey Tyler Willis

Stephane Malka Laurence Mueller Laurent Niget Pascal Payeur Lena Pasqualini Francis Peduzzi Christophe Ponceau Eva Prabel Patrick Renaud Diane Rhyu Naomi Sakamoto

MAIN FEATURE CONTRIBUTORS

SPECIAL THANKS

Lauren Vasey Mo Harmon

Bernard L. Mass Foundation

COMMUNICATIONS Lauren Bebry

GUEST ARTIST PHOTOGRAPHERS

PARTICIPANTS AND LECTURERS

Marie Combes Patrick Renaud

Patrick Beauce Gaelle Breton Patrick Bouchain Alexandre Chemetoff Julien Choppin Marie Combes Nicola Delon Loïc Julienne

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Ivan Adelson Katie Baldwin Lauren Bebry

The International Institute Experiential Learning Fund Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning Spatial and Numeric Data Services

>> friche index

PARIS Académie Fratellini rue des cheminots 93210 Saint-Denis La Plaine Patrick Bouchain and Loic Julienne completed the circus school in 2002. Exceptional performance and training facilities in SaintDenis, a suburb. Le 104 104 Rue d’Aubervilliers 75019 Paris The 2008 conversion of the Paris city morgue into a flexible cultural center. Designed by Jacques Pajot and Marc Iseppi of Atelier Novembre. Palais de Tokyo 13, avenue du Président Wilson 75007 Paris Lacaton & Vassal’s mecca for contemporary art, canonical for its aestheticism of efficiency. Raw, like a space associated with artistic production, it houses the finished works du jour. Musee du Quai Branly 37 Quai Branly 75007 Paris Jacque Chirac’s cherished project, the Musée du quai Branly was completed in 2006 by Jean Nouvel

and has since been mired in controversy. It houses France’s collection of indigenous art, sampled from a broad range of cultures and civilizations. The garden that slides beneath the belly of the architectural beast was completed by Gilles Clement. And though much more tamed than his other projects, is worth a visit. Parc de la Villette 75019, Paris A paradigmatic example of contemporary architecture’s struggle to resist the substantiation of authority and to provide opportunities for emergent behavior, here with an emphasis of landscape over built form. Alexandre Chemetoff’s bamboo garden is spectacular. Pavillion de l’Arsenal 21 Blvd Morland 75004 Paris The Pavillon de l’Arsenal is a documentation and exposition center for architecture and urbanism in Paris. The museum operates three exhibition spaces, publishes reference books related to Parisian architecture, history and urban life, hosts forums and lectures, rotates temporary installations and generally attempts to project a finger glued steadfast on the pulse of Parisian life.

La Gare au Gorilles metro corentin cariou 75019 Paris

Les Frigos 91 Quai Panhard et Levassor 75013 Paris

This squat at a train station has been transformed into a music venue with an international line up of performers.

The city’s refrigerated warehouses have been transformed into a series of workspaces and offices. Occassional open door events transform the space into a labyrinthine gallery.

Académie du Spectacle Equestre Grande Ecurie du Château de Versailles Avenue Rockfeller 78000 Versailles Bartabas, the founder and director of the Zingaro Equestrian Theater, secured a govenment grant in 2003 to create this Equestrian school, a training facility dedicated to the art of dressage. The space is completed by Patrick Bouchain and Loic Julienne. Cité nationale de l’histoire de l’immigration 293 avenue Daumesnil 75012 PARIS Patrick Bouchain reworked the interior of the France’s museum of colonial history into exhibition space for immigration history. Additions to the building were limited to code requirements.

La Miroiterie 88 rue de Ménilmontant 75020 Paris A squat that has transformed into a space for alterative music forms: jazz, du hardcore, noise, electronica, delirium. Dock en Seine 34 Quai d’Austerlitz 75013 Paris Jakob + MacFarlane designed the Fashion and Design Institute on the docks of Seine’s Left Bank. The new green metal pipe structure envelopes an existing 1907 concrete warehouse. Jussieu l’Atrium 10 rue Cuvier 75005, Paris Louis Paillard and L’Agence Périphérique completed the addition to the Jussieu campus in 2006.

NANTES ENSA NANTES École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture Rue Massenet, BP 81931 - 44319 Nantes The architecture school, recently completed by Lacaton & Vassal, illustrates how space can be the greatest of luxuries. The building, borrowing from the logic of a parking garage, inserts conditioned program into double height unconditioned space. Enviable. Lieu Unique 2, Rue de la Biscuiterie BP 21 304 44013 Nantes Cedex 1 Patrick Bouchain’s biscuit factory turned cultural center. A myriad of program animates the place daily. Very New York. Zero pretense.

La Nef Machines de l’Ile de Nantes Les Chantiers Bd Léon Bureau - 44 200 Nantes

SAINT NAZAIRE

François Delarozière and Pierre Orefice’s exploration of machine objects and motion produces a workshop and gallery where visitors guided by machinists work with fantastic mechanical creations. And then there is a three story elephant that walks along the post-industrial waterfront, passes a Jean Prouve building and continues on along an Alexander Chemetoff landscape.

Le LIFE | Alvéole 14 Submarine Base – Bay 14 Boulevard de la Légion d’Honneur 44600 Saint-Nazaire

L’Estuaire Site of the Estuaire Biennale, a contemporary art exhibition that takes place every two years between Nantes and Saint-Nazaire (along the Loire estuary). The once industrial landscape transforms into a tourist destination.

A Germany submarine base during the Second World War, the site is transformed by LIN Agency into LiFE, International Space for Emerging Arts. It is a new venue dedicated to contemporary artistic activities: visual arts, music, architecture, the performing arts, literature, film, video and new media.

>> friche index continued

FRAMERIES Le Pass Parc d’aventures scientifiques 3 rue de Mons B-7080 Frameries A former coal mine in a Belgian town is transformed into a children’s science museum. Completed by Lauren Niget in 2004 with a master plan by Jean Nouvel, the project situates a large scale cultural attractor in a dramatically depressed region. Le Grand Hornu Rue Sainte-Louise 82 7301 Hornu A large scale coal mine converted into a cultural center for contemporary art and design. Early phase of the design was taken up by the local architect Henri Guchez who set up his offices on site. Pierre Hebbelinck completes the restoration in 2002.

CALAIS La Cité internationale de la Dentelle et de la Mode de Calais 135, Quai du Commerce 62100 CALAIS Inaugurated in 2009, the lace museum exhibits a regional industry, production techniques and its connection to contemporary fashion and design. The addition and renovation completed by Henri Riviére et Alain Moatti features and a new facade which recalls a bodice. It’s pattern borrows from the logic of the lace stock card.

Le Channel 173 boulevard Gambetta BP 77, 62102 Calais Le Channel, scène nationale de Calais, headed by Francis Peduzzi was completed as a collaborative work by Patrick Bouchain and François Delarozière. A largescale slaughter house becomes a space for performance, artistic residence, street art, food, circus, pyrotechnics and other forms of creative speculation.

SAINT ETIENNE La Cité du design 3 Rue Javelin-Pagnon 42000 Saint-Etienne Former site of an arms manufacturer has been converted into a design school. It also hosts a design biennale (2010 opens in November). LIN architects, headed by Finn Geipel, worked on the project between 2006-2009. The essential elements of the project consist of the restoration of some buildings on the site, a new 200x32 m building called La Platine, an Observatory tower, two Gardens, and the Place d’Armes, a large public plaza. Alexander Chemetoff has recently been hired to work on the an urban design project connecting the Cité du design to the remainder of the city.

LYON Opéra Nouvel Opéra de Lyon - Place de la Comédie - 69001 Lyon The alarmingly disorienting opera restoration by Jean Nouvel inherits the architect’s name. Begun in the mid-eighties, the project is completed in 1993. Nouvel tripled the space within the house by excavating below ground to create rehearsal space and, most strikingly, by doubling the height of the building by creating a steel and glass barrel vault which hid the fly tower as well as providing space for the ballet company.

MARSEILLE La Friche Belle de Mai 41 Rue Jobin 13003 Marseille A tabacco factory is converted into an office complex, restaurant, exhibition galleries, roof gardens, media center, performance and rehearsal space, skate park. Home to close to a hundred firms, the friche block is Patrick Bouchain’s ultimate project: an architecture without architects. Bouchain has been voted president of the association, replacing Jean Nouvel, and is handling the economic development of the complex. Final phase - architect turns developer.

For An Architecture of Stylessness L’architecture d’usager fabrique du sur mesure. Elle évite la reproduction d’un style de mode. Elle suppose le bâtiment dandy, autrement dit, la construction seule dans son genre, qui, sans ostentation, résiste au goût dominant d’une époque, à l’avachissement d’un temps, à l’uniformisation d’une culture. Le dandysme architectural récuse l’extravagance clinquante, il refuse le parti pris original pour la seul originalité, mais il laisse la singularité et la subjectivité produire leur effet dans une construction manifeste à même d’honorer une signature. _Michel Onfray, Construire Autrement

>> civic friche featured artist

Though located just one metro stop outside of the pĂŠriphĂŠrique, the Combes & Renaud Studio in Bagnolet is a respite from the density and promiscuity of the Parisian quotidian. At the entry, a parking spot has sprouted into a potted gardenscape. Within, a hodgepodge of furnishings, tungsten lights, and an assembly of images that questions the very nature of photography in contemporary art. Marie Combes talked with us about her work, her enviable audacity bordering on insolence and where she thinks photography is headed next.

FRAGMENT INDÉTÉRMINÉ, FRAGMENT INDÉFINI

In her series, Interieurs, Marie Combes photographs architecture as the archaic and the ruined, alluding to both Palladian drawings and 17th century painting in mock romantic concern for the eviscerated form. In so doing, Combes simultaneously strips architecture of its typical decorum and liberates photography from its documentarian pretexts. The result is a composite fiction, a series of formal coincidences that frame and construct new dynamic, non-existent spaces. Combes shoots her architectural subjects in what she terms “a non-hierarchical rampage”, moving through space and concentrating on the experiential fragment. Later she scours through her contract sheets selecting evocative adjacencies, which she consequently prints in a diptych format. In other words, she pairs only those images which appear back to back on the contact sheet. Her process is thus one of imposed discovery, productive fluidity and authorial abdication.

Interieurs pairs two perspectival fragments in order to produce a third, wholly autonomous representation of space. The new perspective is a spatial provocation: discordant floor plates, compound light sources, the suggestion of folded planes, a multiplicity of thresholds, and schizophrenic subjectivity. It is a spatial assemblage whose meaning is solicited by the realm of the non-image, by the in between, by the axis as fissure. In other words, the connective tissue of the image is essential to the geometric (re)ordering and choreography of the resulting space. L e t ’ s t a l k a b o u t r u l e s . Fo r a p h o t o g r a p h e r y o u ’ v e s e t u p an unusually rigorous set of process-based rule for your Interieurs project. You’re right. My project is a bit analytical, even systemic. I am trying to order a series of spatial revelations - that aren’t always transparent from the get go. I have to be honest. I have series of recurring dreams where I enter a space, abandoned or inhabited, and I begin to transcribe the experience using site, memory - essentially an imaginary photogaphy. I try to infuse my own work with this dreamscape. The Interieur project is a performance. I perform an act which is the transcription of a space real or imagined. And that is why it needs rules, this act needs parameters. I don’t want to project a response - I want to discover a site. That is where the contact sheet comes in. When I first develop a series on a contact sheet, and stick to the notion that an image can only be composed through its apparent juxtaposition on the sheet, I abdicate responsibility for the composition, and the image, in turn, gains a level of autonomy. My images need to appear, even to me.

What these sites have in common is that they are fleeting. They have been designed, inhabited, used, transgressed, thwarted, damaged, loved and abandoned. They are what we call “en friche” they are waiting for something to happen. _interview by Anya Sirota _portrait by Jean Louis Farges _photos courtesy of Marie Combes

Yo u r s u b j e c t i s u l t i m a t e l y a r c h i t e c t u r a l . H o w d o y o u f i n d t h e space - or does it find you? Yes, I need an architectural subject. I need the play between darkness and light, the tension between the exterior and the interior. The trace of human use. Even abuse. But to find these sites, let’s say that I stumble upon these sites. I look for them in the urban landscape. I look for them on the margins of the city. I also look in the country. I know I have found one when I can sense an ephemeral quality that deserves to be transcribed. What these sites have in common is that they are fleeting. They have been designed, inhabited, used, transgressed, thwarted, damaged, loved and abandoned. They carry the markings of their former uses; they are what we call “en friche” - they are waiting for something to happen. They are recepticles of our collective memory and yet they are in danger of dispearance. They are at risk of being demolished, wiped clean. They are sites that I perceive to be in a state of danger. Danger of being forgotten. Danger of recieving an unwarrented face lift. And then all of the traces... where will they go? Images? When I find a site like this, and it may be a rare siting, I will only go in with my camera. I will not traverse the threshold with my eyes alone. A n d y o u o n l y s h o o t a s i t e u p o n f i r s t p e r c e p t i o n . Yo u n e v e r return? No second chance?

I am interested in the constructing and reconstructing the space of perception. This space has to be unknown. So, yes, I enter a site with my camera just once. My first perception of the site is the rawest, most immediate, free of prejudice. I don’t know what I will find, and it is this act of discovery that is being transcribed.That is the subject of my research. The unknown is exciting. In particular, the idea of projected circulation and a fragmented point of view. I am chasing images that escape me; it is a psychospatial choreography and it is happening live. I am constructing a reality that is non-representational, even when the isolated shots can be considered objective, documentarian in a certain sense. In the end, the images are not a repesentation of the site, they are projection of something Other. So essentially you are reconstructing a fictional space - is it a clandestine or explicit crtitique of the constructed? No, no, that’s not it at all. Maybe I would just love to Practise architecture. But I am an artist who uses photography as a construction tool. I am building the hidden room, wild circulation, projecting an impossible play of light. Is there a site that you would want to shoot? What’s next? So many places have potential. Perhaps Detroit is next. The quality of its architecture. The relationship of the built environment to the landscape. The scale of the place. It would be a real challenge and I am tempted.

(…) L’intervalle ne se définit spécialisation de ces deux faces-limites, perceptive et active. Il y a l’entre-deux. L’affection, c’est ce qui occupe l’intervalle, ce qui l’occupe sans le remplir ni le combler. Elle surgit dans le centre d’indétermination, c’est-à-dire dans le sujet, entre une perception troublante à certains égards et une action hésitante. Elle est donc coïncidence du sujetet de l’objet, ou la façon dont le sujet se perçoit lui-même, ou plutôt s’éprouve et se ressent « du dedans ». -L’image mouvement, Gilles Deleuze

cheap thrills: the aesthetic of thrift

_ story by tyler willis _ photography by brittany roy and steven christensen _miroiterie images courtesy of patrick renaud

>> objects

n 1917, Marcel Duchamp put a urinal in a gallery. It became art. Is a chair made from a shopping cart fit to be deemed “industrial design”? In marginal sites, the emergence of thrift as an organizing ideology has begun to invent new notions of high design. Ranging from repurposed objects to the use of humble materials, the message is the same: the banal can be beautiful. A common approach to this doctrine is the “readymade” object: a familiar item presented in an unfamiliar manner. For example, Patrick Bouchain repurposes large wooden cable spools as outdoor tables at Le Channel. Plastic buckets turned upside down become the seats. Banal, industrial products are popular candidates for reuse as they reflect the humble sensibilities of marginal sites. Even in Le Channel’s version of an upscale restaurant, Bouchain uses temporary construction site lighting, affixed horizontally to the walls. In some cases, the “readymade” may be physically modified to perform a function quite different from its original usage. At La Miroiterie, a shopping cart becomes a chair after a few bends and modifications. This philosophy of thrift can even extend to newly constructed objects through simple materials and assembly. Bouchain’s treatment of theater seating throughout his body of work

industrial design or artisanal salvage? rethinking the banal and finding embedded value.

consistently exemplifies this. Bench seating, simple wood construction, and utilitarian cushions combine to create a no-frills theater environment. The exterior benches at Le Channel take a similar approach, albeit with different materials: merely pieces of sturdy fabric loosely suspended between metal piping. The effect is seemingly effortless, illustrating the cheeky intelligence of humility. Not only can salvage be design, the ideology of this aesthetic can produce highly effective and unique items. An object as ubiquitous as a shopping cart can be resurrected with both humor and function through smart design. Indeed, the extraordinary is not so far from the ordinary after all.

S I T E M A R K E R

story by Jackie Kow photo Belle de Mai Jackie Kow

New architecture, shiny and bold, is an easy attractor. It’s new and breeds curiosity. But when Old is the new New… what’s the attractor? Can a friche site without signage be civic at all? There is nothing revolutionary about posting a sign, be it for a garage sale or a casino in Las Vegas, and you don’t need a degree in Semiotics to do it. But when the sign marks an uneasy transformation or attempts to mitigate a site of contention, things can get a little more sticky. Where is the right balance between the old and the new? How do you convince potential visitors that they should say have lunch at an abandoned slaughterhouse or dance at a World War II German submarine base? The potential solutions are as diverse as the sites that they mark. One thing is clear, without signage, marginal sites are lost.

François Delarozière transforms the old water tower into a belvedere.

Channel

Calais

artist

His style is all baroque theatrics, bone metaphors and garish reminders of the site’s former use. Juxtaposed against the banal suburban grain of the houses just beyond Le Channel’s wall, it is a clear that something Other is happening. During events the tower transforms into a pyrotechnic installation, calling attention to itself in discomforting ways. In Saint Nazaire, Lin Architects converted a former Nazi submarine base that was in service throughout WWII into a venue for experimental music and culture. Known as the Saint-Nazaire Alvéole 14, the site is designed to serve as the nexus for the new Ville-Porte plan, in other words, to symbolically connect the urban center and the troubled industrial port. To call attention to the project they place a sphere, recuperated from a German airport

It is a marker which unapologetically dememorializes the site, turning to German post-industrial detritus for signage in a tower on the roof of the mega-structure. They call it “think tank”.

formerly-occupied city. Some signs are permanent. Others are temporary installation. In the case of the Palais

de Tokyo in Paris, the marker

is an inhabitable module that is place on the roof . It teeters on the very edge facing the seine, in conversation with the Eiffel Tower. The module’s program is variable. Last year a temporary hotel room to be rented by the night. This year a restaurant for fourteen strangers who eat at the same table. Some sites have what can be considered a pre-existing marker that the new signage must contend with. Take, for example, le Pass in the Framerie, a coal mining town in Belgium. A 64 meter tall tower exists on the site, a remnant of the coal mining process. Hard to compete with in scale. But it is the sign of the old and the site must announce the new. As a result, the project architect, Lauren Niget transforms an entire building into a billboard, plastering its surfaces with everchanging announcements. Perhaps the most efficient sign is the most obvious. At the Friche Belle de Mai in Marseille, Patrick Bouchain ironically turns to a literal billboard. Afixed to the roof of the tallest building in the complex it signals “eventscape” the to the TVG trains arriving into the Gare Saint Charles.

Bold move.

>> food

eat me iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m /story by Lauren Bebry /photophraphy by Nathan Doud, Brittany Roy and Lauren Bebry /recipe and menu courtesy of Alain Moitel of Les grandes Tables du Channel

Architects have long had a love affair with food; its immediacy, ephemerality, constructability, composition, decadence, and, gasp, tectonics, are undeniable. Food can also serve as an attractor, animating a marginal site and creating social space.

beautiful 34

Menu Croustillant d’asperge Palleron cuisson 72 heures à 72°degrés (Cuisson dans une poche au bain-marie) Refroidit, saisi à la plancha servi avec une polenta crémeuse et tagliatelles de légumes croquants Crémeux au chocolat, et café, et son sirop de poivres, sirop de zestes d’oranges

hen Patrick Bouchain and Loic Julienne set up shop at Le Channel in Calais, the first thing they did was build a makeshift â&#x20AC;&#x153;cabanaâ&#x20AC;? to house offices, gathering space and a canteen. Food, from the get go, was a crucial component for activating the communal social potential on the site. Over time, the canteen developed into something more orchestrated and refined, but its core value to the programming of a friche site remains unchanged. Over the course of our journey, we had the opportunity to dine at a number of eateries connected to projects completed by the Construire office. And it was clear that an organizing strategy was operating. The spaces were communal, informal, idiosyncratic, spacious, urbane and clad with a minimum level of ornamentation. But to say that the detailing was minimalist would be to overlook the exceptional precision of the scenography.

In stark opposition to the pomp and stuffiness conjured by the Michelin star system, these restaurants are designed to blend all strata of French society into a surprising communal cocktail of food and friche. The factory canteen meets the corner bistrot, and the guests happen to be the performance artists working in the space next door or the construction workers finishing up a refurbishment project. Plus the food is delicious. At the Le Channel chef Alain Moitel prepared a special meal for our group. Knowing that we were American, Moitel chose beef. Slowly roasted for over 72 hours with the perfect mixture of seasoning. this decadent entree was so tender that it could be cut with a fork. Eating it was an allencompassing experience: the scent, the beautiful presentation, the sensational flavor. Enjoying this meal, it became clear to me that cooking and designing are

united through their processes. Both aim to surmount challenges in the same ways: considering a client, examining myriad elements, trial and error, attention to detail, and experimentation. This process often provokes finished dishes along the way that are in no way near what was intended, but, maybe not as often, it also produces amazing accidents that can change the way the entire problem is seen. Different each time, and perfected just a little bit more with each attempt, this knawing process is the true challenge, providing a satisfaction when its consequences are so enjoyably consumed by its audience. The meal at Le Channel was incredibly gratifying and intriguing. How did they make that? In fact, what was the process exactly? While it kept me guessing, what I appreciated even more the care put into it. I could actually taste each decision that went into the preparation.

patial mechanic

_story by Nathan Doud _photography by Nathan Doud, Erika Lindsay, Brittany Roy, Devon Stonebrook and Jackie Kow _photographic collage courtesy Nathan Doud

>> steampunk-ed

rom two blocks away, passing the construction site of a trendy new condo highrise, you hear the roar of a great beast. From a block away, next to the shuttered warehouse building, constant whining and rumbling noises become apparent to you. Then, suddenly, in the middle of this industrial cityscape, a figure emerges that ignites your imagination and awakens your curiosity and wonder: a giant elephant. Indeed, a pachyderm of prehistoric proportions. Here, in the middle of a French industrial city of over 275,000 people, is an animal that is living, breathing, and clearly not supposed to be here. Or is it? Upon inspection, this beast is not actually living and breathing. It is a carefully assembled collection of wood and steel (and other miscellaneous materials), wires and pistons, motors and wheels. It is a large-scale creation born of the dedication of a team of designers and craftsmen. It is run by a staff

of operators and maintenance technicians. It is, in fact, a machine. And as such has as much right as any to claim this area as its home. Upon a closer inspection, however, it turns out it is living and breathing. Not in the strict biological sense, of course. But it does have breath, given to it by a combination of air compressors, pneumatic pistons and a highdecibel speaker system. And it does have life, given to it by a combination of well crafted and articulated appendages, adroit operation and a crowd of willing, believing onlookers. It is the audience that finally breathes life into this mish-mash of mechanics, willing to look past the clearly segmented limbs, the visible structural supports, the giant tires that allow its movement and the engine that ultimately gives it forward momentum. We see what we believe, and we believe what we see. Then again, maybe it isn't being able to look past the obvious mechanics that allows

us to believe. Perhaps it is the direct, unaccountable presence of them that allows us to convince ourselves that what we see in front of us is real. We are not given a clear elephant. We are given clues, impressions of elephantiness, juxtaposed against elements that are very un-elephanty. These deliberate holes and intentional incongruities confound our notions of what we see and what we know, and force our imaginations to rev up and reconcile the situation. The wonder of La Machine, the creators of this and many other wildly fantastic contraptions, is that they stimulate the imagination by egging it on and allowing it freedom. Their creations are not attempts to visually replicate living things. They are attempts to follow in the footsteps of Dr. Frankenstein and bring inanimate objects to life through action. Only instead of lightning, they infuse their monsters with the energy from our imaginations.

SPACE IS LUXURY 41

/story by Jean Louis Farges /photography by Brittany Roy, Nathan Doud, Mo Harmon, Devon Stonebrook, Ivan Adelson, Bruce Findling

... The brand new architecture school in nantes is the magnificent synthesis of fundamental work carried out over the last twenty years. There is notably the subtle combination of interior and exterior spaces... [Lacaton & Vassal] have succeeded in making this facility a centerpiece of the urban laboratory of the ile de nantes. this simple an and complex, dense and fluid building is much more than a school. It is a place that can be fully appropriated by urban dwellers as much as by students... - Francis Rambert Director of the Institut Francais dâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Architecture

Lacaton & Vassal have made a practice of non-object archtecture at a time when objects reached cult status. They avoid making models to avoid making sculpture. they habitually explain that their buildings work from the inside out, that their form is a utilitarian after-thought. Nonetheless, their architecture can hardly be called minimalist. They plainly strive to intelligently deliver the maximum punch using constrained means. And, perhaps most importantly, they project how their buildings might be appropriated in the future, an act of radical functionalism and creative humility. On the day that we visited the architecture school in nantes, Anne Lacaton was teaching a housing seminar. her students, just in from Madrid, were squatting a large double-height open area on the third floor. Some of the sliding facade panels were pulled open allowing in breezes and views of the Loire River to create the sensation that this impromptu studio was neither in nor out.

Gaelle Breton, an associate professor at the Ecole d’Architecture in Nantes since 2008, walked us through the building. A registered architect in France, but also trained as a carpenter, she unravelled the logic of the building in a rivetting way. The architects, she explained, were asked to construct 10,000 square meters of program (classrooms, studios, library, computer center, workshops, cafeteria, etc.) on a 5,000 square foot lot. Instead of a typical building, Lacaton & Vassal proposed a parking garage on steroids clad in a greenhouse sweater. In other words, a superstructure with three dilated decks, inserted program and a sliding plastic panel skin. The conditioned program is introduced using a lighter steel structure and placed in the space between the concrete slabs. The twolevel mezzanines are treated as buildings in miniature with the “left over” or unconditioned interstitial space transformed into a virtual urban plaza. Public. Visible. Shared.Infinitely transformable. Ready to be appropriated as need arises. The result is a plethora of flexible, unprogrammed space. Enviable. Luxurious. Having taught architecture and design studios in Lille, Marne-la-Vallée, Cornell University, the University of Montreal, the Ecole Spéciale d’Architecture, and Paris-Malaquais, Gaelle Breton is deeply familiar with the spatial requirements of a design school, and this building, she was happy to report, provided her with just enough space. “It encourages instructors to have more public reviews, and students to create more audacious, larger scale installations, to dare and take up the volume that has been alloted. It is tempting, and challenging all at once.”

I think luxury is not related to materiality, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just some incredible situations. And as architects, you have to produce incredible situations. -- Lacaton & Vassal

VICE

COMBAT DE CATCH À MOUSTACHE FIGHT TO CATCH A MOUSTACHE

Un sport sans concession, où le but ultime est d’humilier l’adversaire à coups de crayon ! Le principe est simple : 6 à 8 dessinateurs, dont l’identité est dissimulée sous d’audacieux costumes de catcheurs et d’imposantes moustaches, se livrent à des duels graphiques sans aucune pitié sur des thèmes imposés par le public. Ce même public vote à la fin de chaque round pour élire le meilleur dessin. «Oeil pour oeil, dent pour dent » ? Non, le catch de dessin c’est : “les deux yeux pour un oeil, et toute la mâchoire pour une dent” !! http://www.viceland.com/fr/Divers/CP%20VICE@LU%24.2.pdf

A sport without compromise, where the ultimate goal is to humiliate the opponent with the shot of a pencil! The principle is simple: 6-8 designers, whose identities are concealed by the daring costumes of wrestlers and huge mustaches, engage in duels without mercy on graphic themes imposed by the public. This same audience votes at the end of each round to elect the best design. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?” No, the wrestle of drawing is: “two eyes for an eye, and the jaw for a tooth!” Google translate

WORDS BY IVAN ADEL SON + TALIA PINTOHANDLER

R+ PHOTOGRAPHY BY TALIA PINTO-hANDLE EL nICK T iVAN ADELSON + mAT TEXT BY JORDAN bUCKNER

abrasive. absurd. abusive. adult. adventurous. alarming. alive. amplified. anarchic. apathetic. artful. assuming. awake. bellicose. bizarre. bloated. bob. bold. brazen. cantankerous. chaotic. clever. colorful. comical. composed. conflicting. confusing. consuming. contaminated. contentious. contradictory. ¬¬-copulative. corrupt. counterproductive. crass. creative. crowded. crude. cultural. curious. decomposed. delicious. democratic. demonic. demonstrable. deviant. dirty. diseased. disguised. disorderly. distinct. disturbing. domineering. dramatic. dreamy. drunk. dry. dubious. earnest. eccentric. editorial. elaborate. el pepito. excited. exotic. exposed. exquisite. fair. feral. fetishistic. forceful. foutre d’argent. fiery. free. frontal. furry. genital. gestural. glittery. gritty. grotesque. haggard. hairy. hectic. humorous. hot. immitigable. impervious. improvised. insane. invading. invigorating. inviting. jocular. john super wayne. jovial. juvenile. kinky. le reverend 666. l’equipe des gentils. loose. loud. louis vengeur. massive. mechants. melodramatic. messy. mocking. momentous. monsieur moulebite. morbid. muddy. natural. neurotic. nude. offensive. obnoxious. obtuse. operant. opposite. orchestral. ostentatious. overwhelming. painful. pathetic. patriotic. peculiar. perpetual. pink. plastic. playful. poetic. political. profane. promiscuous. provoking. psychotic. pulsating. questionable. radical. rambunctious. rarified. robust. rude. rudimentary. sacrificial. salty. schismatic. sensational. sexual. smelly. social. spiritual. sticky. stuffy. stupid. suited. superfluous. tell-tale. tenacious. tommy. torrential. trite. tumultuous. uncut. unethical. unique. vibrant. vile. voracious. vulgar. whistle-stop. wild. wrapped. zesty.

Le Lieu Unique (LU) – a play on words between a popular biscuit and “a unique place” - is possibly one of architect Patrick Bouchain’s best achievements. Lieu Unique performs as a cultural stage for the city of Nantes in France, providing a a space for artists and locals to mix . LU is a stage and a laboratory for performance, music, dance, theater, even philosophy. It is an installation space, a street, a child care center, urban learning center. And it is a place to eat. To eat cheap. To eat well. To meet in an atmosphere that is unusually multiplicitous, democratic, porous, and without pretense. At night the Le Lieu Unique is were the cool kids hang.

Le Lieu Unique winks knowlingly at its former program - the old Lefevre-Utile biscuit factory, while at the same time creating an atmosphere that is anything but fussy or nostalgic. It is Nantes’s quintessential living room. Open to all. LU’s tower acts as a beacon for the building and arguably the city as a whole. The tower draws attention to the building, and its colorful design during the day and illumination at night mark this building as an active place. A replica of the original tower, its restauration is the first measure taken to revive the site. Patrick Bouchain preserved most of the building in its original form. Any changes are rendered explicit. New materials stand in stark contrast to the old - illustrating that while memory is crucial to the architectural fabric, it should never stunt transformation, new program, invention, progress. Materials are layered and juxtaposed with insolence and humor. In the main lobby space, all of the new programmatic insertions are clearly demarcated and transparent, the partition walls made of commercial wire fencing. The main performance hall’s accoustic paneling is cobbled out of recycled oil barrels and west african rugs . The building is situated with its main facade facing a canal, creating an active gathering space on the waterfront. The restaurant and bar both break the threshold of the building and stretch to the water, creating a curving streetscape - a stage of sorts where all social classes can merge . All doors to the building stay open during hours of operation. With no monumental entry - people slip in and out of the building seemlessly.

is it okay to shimmy at the

morgue?

Le 104 /story by Kayla Lim /photography Kayla Lim, Ivan Adelson and Brittany Roy

The ateliers @ the CENTQUATRE Eight atelier spaces are reserved for a artist residents, and designed to animate the site during off hours. The signage is clinical. The spaces sterile. It is difficult to envision how artists might be able to appropriate a site with this level of resolution for their own visions and purposes.

Le CENTQUATRE’s Café Caché, French for Hidden Cafe. The CNC routered skin was designed by Sebastien Wierinck (artist and former resident of the CENTQUATRE), the café features a large outdoor terrace in a paved courtyard and provides direct access onto the rue d’Aubervilliers.

Sure you can shimmy at the morgue. Shimmy, break dance, rage, nosh, explore. Anything goes at CENTQUATRE. This art center is located in Paris’ nineteenth arrondissement, one of the capital’s famously botched urban design projects. It posits itself as an art venue for international installations, video projection, theatre, and music, as well as a community gathering space for residents of the neighborhood. Until 1993, the French State held a monopoly on funeral services. Meaning, the manufacturer of coffins and hearses, the services of bearers – were all managed by the state. Once funeral activities in France became privatized, the morgue slowed production and ultimately closed its doors in 1997. At the height of its operations, it had employed 1400 people and provided services to thousands of the deceased. Transformed in 2008 by Jacques Pajot and Marc Iseppi of Atelier Novembre into a beacon of culture and taste,

it has now been sterilized. So much so, that you easily forget that this was once the site where the city’s dead were brought. In fact, it is difficult to imagine that the spaces were once used for an alternative program: horse stables, hairdresser salons, warehouses, and offices. Today, the CENTQUATRE is organized around an open interior passage with minimal programmatic intervention. The wings of the existing structure house galleries, commercial space, projection rooms, artist’s workshops, and a cafe. All impeccably redone. The main atrium space is stark, bright, white, and lined with stores, a daycare, and auditoriums. The atrium also features a floating stage where you can dance, meditate, or view art installations Below the floating stage, in the belly of the morgue, you can view pieces of art in the dark former stables. It is here in these stable, where you’ll experience the little memory of the place that hasn’t been

expunged. Once you venture out of the basement, you’ll find yourself in another vast, barren space where flexible uses are encouraged, though rarely spotted. As you make your way into the majestically scaled outdoor square, peak your head into some of the smaller exhibition spaces in the old storerooms for a more intimate experience. If you’re lucky, you’ll even stumble upon the Hidden Café which offers a place for artists and art enthusiasts to discuss the current exhibitions. Although the idea of CENTQUATRE presents itself as a vibrant center for culture, in reality, the project is vast and sterile. Shimmying may be allowed, but would you really want to? It is a project where the great majority of the budget was dedicated to the rehabilitation and decoration of the site. As a consequence, little was left to support emergent programs or public venues. In fact, this was the only site that we visited that had no connection to an emergent program

or a former use. As a consequence, the site feels a bit alien to its urban context. The site needs to be defibrillated back to life, because to be honest, it may likely have been more active when it functioned as a morgue. According to CENTQUATRE’s history, the employees of the morgue even participated in a company football team and orchestra. There were people working at the morgue and on call twenty-four hours a day, and it is this around the clock liveliness that present-day CENTQUATRE desperately needs. Recently the direction at the CENTQUATRE has changed and we are looking forward to seeing how the site will develop in the future.

Above: Exhibition Desplazamientos / Déplacements as part of the Ten Years of Generaciones’s contemporary art competition.

>> music

GARE AU GORILLE

>> objec

cts

/story by Katie Baldwin /photography Noureen Lakhani, Brittany Roy, Talia Pinto-Handler

Across the street from the Crimee metro stop in Paris there is a large iron gate, opened just a crack to allow curious passers-by the chance to catch a momentary glimpse inside. Others, who know their destination well, confidently venture inside and greet their friends with shouted hellos and riotous laughter. This is the Gorilla Train Station, a cultural refugee camp located along an abandoned railway line in the nineteenth arrondissement. Inside, a massively diverse crowd is soaking up the unique vibe of this rare anomaly in the urban fabric, and celebrating the profound sense of personal liberty this place conjures up. We enter behind Marie Combes, who is no virgin to this territory. She is wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket. Her curls are dancing in the breeze as she makes her way up the gradual slope from street to station. Marie is stopped by two mustacioed security guards and asked to place her bag on an artists light table for screening. After several minutes of confusion Marie is told to look at a computer monitor and explain to the guards what is in her bag. The screen is black (it lacks an electrical source) and we soon catch on that very little can be taken as fact in this magical place. We are welcomed into a courtyard that is lined with groups of people eating baguettes and enjoying the wines they brought from home. There is hardly a bare sliver of paved stone along which to walk towards the interior space. Once inside, we are overwhelmed by the pitch black while live music envelopes our senses. When we have had enough of the crowdâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s unpredictable dance moves, we explore the exterior once again. For every one person sitting, two are standing. All are conversing openly. The theme for the night is AĂŠroport aux Gorilles. The bartenders are dressed in 70â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s attendant uniforms, while pilots in bomber jackets and boxer shorts strut about. The sun goes down and the projector comes on. The building that once housed the music and the darkness and the dancing has now become the projection screen. The pilots struggle with technical difficulties, and we realize that this is no professional operation, just a group of people having some fun. We are watching program emerge and it is quite beautiful. We are the program. We are exercising cultural liberty. 60

ARCHITECTURE WITHOUT ARCHITECTS 3.0 /BY BRITTANY ROY /PHOTOGRAPHY DEVON STONEBROOK, BRITTANY ROY + JACKIE KOW

â&#x20AC;&#x153;we are not interested in the finished product since it is never finished. we are interested in the process. belle de mai is pure collective process.â&#x20AC;? - LoĂŻc Julienne

In Marseille, France’s largest port city, you’ll find one of Patrick Bouchain’s latest and arguably most ambitious projects. It’s title cuts straight to the point: La Friche. Here, a former tobacco factory has been transformed into an idiosyncratic space with theaters, offices, artist studios, a restaurant, and a skate park. At night the site becomes a venue for concerts, dance performances, eating, gatherings, salsa, and a myriad of other activities. At first glance, the location for La Friche may seem anything but ideal. Situated away from the popular Old Port and abutting the TVG rail lines, it is removed from local transportation networks and animated pedestrian routes. It is, in fact, a cultural and economic oasis located in the middle one of the poorest arrondisements of Marseille. How is it that this isolated venue draws 300 workers on a daily basis? And what makes this cultural attractor so undeniably attractive? La Friche is a complex network of thinkers, participants, performers, entrepreneurs and interested people spearheaded by the French architect Patrick Bouchain. Part networker, part coordinator, part politician, Bouchain is a visionary who’s taken the role of the architect far beyond the confines of design. La Friche is a project that began with a group of cultural actors who were permitted access to this abandoned tobacco factory in order to create their projects. This community group later became known as the SCIC which has now voted Bouchain into the post of “President”. The group has secured a 45 year lease from the city. The strategy works something like this: a building is handed over to a group of cultural actors who are then permitted to transform and market the space how they see fit and in response to a complex matrix of community requirements. In this networking role, Bouchain helps make connections and negotiations between the SCIC and government agencies, harnessing the energy of emergent programs into viable solutions for this formerly marginal site.

Instead of imposing a monolithic design on this complex site, Bouchain mobilized different artists and thinkers to contribute their idiosyncratic ideas to the master plan of the site. The result is heterogeneous fusion of programs and interventions. Take the entry sequence, for example. BMI, the skateboarding association, was invited in to design a skate park in the central courtyard. Borrowing fragments of favorite urban skateboarding landscapes across the globe, they designed a composite skate park which visitors are invited to traverse on their way to the public venue above. A local artist created a graffiti wall, which frames the skate park and holds back the TGV rail lines. Once you reach the second-story terrace level, prefabricated containers serve as offices for the associations based on the site. Installation artists inhabit the roofscape of an adjacent building, testing new ideas for landscapes and video projection. The very people using and programming the site become responsible for its design, and the architect in this case oversees the strategy for the ensemble as a composite piece. To manage the financial plan for the development of the site, Bouchain hired a fiscal spitfire and an employee of the Bank of France, Karen Bouvet. Her role is to secure government funding for the continued development of the site. Bouvet is currently in the process of negotiating with the city to create a new bus route that would connect the La Friche at Belle de Mai to the center of the Marseille, making the site more accessible to the public. Patrick Bouchainâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s political role at the La Friche is critical. Bouchain was responsible for helping integrate La Friche into the EuromĂŠditeranĂŠe Project and the European Capitol of Culture project. Participating in these large scale developement projects ensured that La Friche received significant funding as well as media coverage, reinforcing the credibility of the project at regional, national, and international scales. Patrick Bouchain is an architect, who by taking on a number of roles (developer, political advisor, site manager, fundraiser, performer), designs urban conditions as much as he designs buildings. His projects are infinitely dependent on a network of people: collaborators, government officials, residents, associations, artists. With the network in place, La Friche at Belle de Mai becomes a fully activated urban node where any number of activities can take place and a framework that can shift and adapt to changing community needs. Not to mention the site doubles as one of the best salsa joints in the city.

>> coming soon

Patrick Renaud is a photographer and installation artist.

His work transforms the marginal and the overlooked into suggestively eerie scenarios that undermine the very nature of the constructed, the pictoresque and the normative. Most recently in collaboration with Marie Combes, Patrick has begun to investigate what they have termed â&#x20AC;&#x153;unstill imagesâ&#x20AC;?. Projections produced through photo montage, these works play with ephemerality, living matter and site. Currently, Patrick is working on a new video installation project. The working title, Manoeuvre, alluding to the intersection between creative and laborous production, unfolds on the site of a neglected factory over a thirty year period. He has documented this rural friche from its initial state of abandon to its final state of vegetal takeover. What follows is Patrickâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s statement, a work in progress, an ordering, a virtual scenario that considers the nature of architectural erasure in the landscape. /scenario courtesy of Patrick Renaud /archival photography courtesy John Oliver /dyptique courtesy Patrick Renaud /text by Anya Sirota

Scénario Manoeuvre L’usine abandonnée comme une dépouille retourne au silence des champs. Elle a accueilli sur ses murs des peintures maladroites, enfantines qui racontaient d’autres pays, d’autres animaux, d’autres arbres. Parfois elle dissimule aux regards des amours rapides. Certains viennent, cassent les vitres, ce qu’ils peuvent démolir. Ça commence souvent ainsi des lieux abandonnés, livrés à une lapidation, à la rage contre l’édifice. L’usine reçoit des coups, elle vibre, raisonne de cette haine. Elle garde dans son silence meurtri cette violence qui veut la voir tomber. Qu’elle soit au sol, en tas, effondrée sur elle-même, ce qu’ils veulent c’est l’écrouler, la démolir, chercher ses points faibles pour faire tomber un mur, n’importe quoi, tout est bon pour précipiter sa chute. Pourtant elle n’a jamais été arrogante, juste dressée comme ça au milieu des champs pour le travail. Puis, ils ne sont plus venus, ou rarement, une longue agonie a commencé entre ses ouvertures béantes. La pluie, le vent, le froid qui éclatent les pierres continuent le travail de démolition. Plus tard, timidement quelques plantes se sont installées parmi ses décombres. Ce fut une colonisation lente, âpre pour ces espèces qui commencent. Mais entre les briques, les tuiles un petit espace suffit à la graine pour pousser. L’usine a accueilli des petits rongeurs, des lézards trouvaient là des cachettes. Des orties, des buddleias ont commencé à pousser. Les oiseaux sont venus. Un début de vie fragile s’est installé. Difficilement bien sûr, certains ont réussi à s’implanter et beaucoup sont morts. Ils ont grandi, se sont développés lentement, très lentement, mais le temps végétal n’est pas celui des hommes. Ils ont fait un manteau de feuillage pour protéger l’usine des fortes chaleurs, en hiver ils se déshabillent et le soleil réchauffe ses vieilles pierres. Parfois des machines viennent jusque-là pour vider leurs citernes. L’usine souffre dans ses fondations de brûlures insupportables, elle sent ces liquides qui s’infiltrent dans le sol, empoisonnent et tuent. Elle sait que tout retournera à la forêt, les arbres finiront pargagner. Ils pousseront dans son squelette, l’envahiront, même là où était son coeur, déjàses membres épars se couvrent de jeunes pousses.

>> opinion

The problem with operating the former headquarters of the German Kriegsmarine as a public gathering center is that the base was never meant as an inclusive meeting spot. As it turns out, common practice for the construction of military structures during World War II centered on the philosophy of keeping the enemy outside, not inviting them in for an evening of contemporary arts and music. Though German U-boats won’t be buzzing in and out of St. Nazaire any time soon, the immense concrete structure has withstood the last 70 years without any apology of its former life. It is a fortress of epic proportions, and this re-allocation from military base to gallery and concert space has forced it into a state of awkward existence...one that is trying to please a new generation of city planners and event organizers. The key to understanding the appropriate re-allocation of a World War II era U-Boat Base is to first look at ‘how’ the work conveys meaning before we look at ‘what’ it conveys. Large concrete walls several feet thick, scale that dwarfs all surrounding structures coupled with a purely functional aesthetic define the heavy handed vernacular. The elements which answer the question as to how Alveole 14 conveys meaning are not variable, and thus neither are the answers to what meanings it invokes. Feelings of exclusion, strength, power, and stability are immediately injected into the pedestrian who sets eyes on the immense structure. Though it is obvious to see why any nation would be eager to turn an enemy fortress into a much more benevolent civic gathering space, the transformation here does little to take advantage of what actually exists. What if this ex-military base of the once mighty Kriegsmarine was taken at face value? What if the re-allocation was one that fit into the original agenda of exclusion, strength, and power? On the one extreme, the base could become a massive tenant improvement project for the elite tycoon who wishes to send an ultimate message to the world in terms of their dominance of the free market. A luxury hotel would also be in line with this direction of thought, as the exclusiveness and intimidation of the structure would surely keep those less fortunate at bay, much like a fortress for the rich (in fact, such a project had been successfully implemented at ‘No Mans Land Fort’ off the coast of England). On the other hand, it would not be too out of line to suggest the base become a detention center for political prisoners and other high profile detainees. Just as the Roman columns of banks, universities, and government buildings send out a sense of security and longevity, so too can the timetested concrete walls of Alveole 14. Though historical association with the war will ultimately sway public opinion on what the base can or cannot become, architects and planners need to be more careful in what they deem is appropriate for transforming structures from one meaning into another.

>> endno

otes

seven meters

* thick

/commentary by Bruce Findling /photography by Tyler Willis and Steven Christensen

depth of the concrete shell @ Alveole14

>> feature

JEUDI NOIR SQUATS PLACE DES VOGSES /story by Lauren Vasey /interview with Lauren Vasey and Mo Harmon /photography Lauren Vasey, Mo Harmon, Brittany Roy, Talia Pinto-Handler

In the center of Paris, in the fourth arrondisement, is Place des Vosges, a royal square built and designed in the 17th century by Louis XIII. Stylistically, the square was unprecedented. Not only did it predate many subsequent manicured gardens throughout France and Europe, but the park’s design included close to two dozen identical buildings around its perimeter, each with matching brick facades, steeply pitched blue slate roofs, and vaulted arcades. The notion that a cityscape could be constructed using a codified system of aesthetics was adapted and perpetuated by subsequent designers and planners, most notably the Baron Haussman. As an icon, the square represents the standard of traditionalism and conformity that resonates so profoundly in the French culture. Since the mid 1950’s, Place des Vosges has been classified a historical monument and consequently retains its original splendor. Though the residencies are not solely populated by the aristocracy as once intended, they do accommodate the very affluent with high priced retail, restaurants, and museums. But the interior of one building, Number 1bis along the southern edge of the square, diverges from its homogenous and opulent neighbors. On the inside of this building lives a collective, a group of squatters, who inhabit the hotel particulier illegally. As the story goes, at the turn of the centuty No. 1bis was owned by a banking heiress and her husband. Due to his ailing health, and later, her deteriorating mind, the couple left the building in early 1960’s, never to return. The residence was abandoned, left untouched for 40 years in a city notorious for its incorrigible homeless population. When the public found out about the abandonment of the building, outrage precipitated into action. In November of 2009, a group of individuals from the organization Jeudi Noir moved into the building to stage a protest.

This page from top: Interior staircase Meeting room Public entry Next page from top: New public entry with mattress springs Apartment door Collective stair

Now the story of the squat at Place des Vosges is one of public fodder: tourists knock on the door to see the interior, and are frequently obliged and given tours. The squat is not a typical case of seizure, but an icon of a movement that demands more affordable housing options for the less affluent people of Paris. As a studio, we decided to visit the site because of its indelible relation to the notion of civic friche: abandoned buildings reappropriated for public function. On a sunny afternoon, the group of us headed to the squat accompanied by Encore Heureux, a Paris-based architecture office headed by Nicholas Delon and Julien Choppin. Known by the students at the Taubman College of Architecture + Urban Planning for their participation in last year’s Future of Design conference, the architects have been working with the students and residents of Jeudi Noir to improve the condition of the building and to bring the building to code. Romain Minod, one of the architecture students who lives in the squat, plays our tour guide during the visit, a role many of the squatters assume from time to time to the interested public. Upon arrival, he ushers us into a large central courtyard. The courtyard itself is the lifeblood of the place: a meeting and gathering space that can be viewed from almost any room in the complex. The scene is one of daily life: cars are parked to one side, while goods are unloaded from one of them. A few squatters garden in the courtyard. They go on with their work undisturbed when we enter, accustomed to being part of the spectacle of the place. The courtyard itself is one of many sites of architectural intervention. A series of colorful crates fill the depression in the center. The crates are stacked to different heights; some create a ground surface, while others serve as seating areas. Small trees, vegetables, and herbs grow in seemingly haphazardly placed white wooden crates, creating a friche garden in strict opposition to the manicured garden just outside the doors of this hotel particulier. After Romain and Nicolas give a brief introduction to the project, we are ushered throughout the “public spaces of the building,” or the spaces that do not comprise the

living quarters of the 37 inhabitants. Our tour feels very choreographed and linear, a staged sequence that’s been highly crafted by its curators. We move from the cavernous cavities in the elaborate basement back up to the courtyard, and then up a monumental staircase with wrought iron banisters. We pass through a grand drawing room, and finally stop outside of a room, “the office,” where the story of the squat materializes as Romain’s thesis project for architecture school. Memory feels tangible at No 1bis. On sites where preservation has reached monumental proportion (whether the Chateau at Versailles or the Chateau de Bretagne in Nantes), history is polished to an artificial sheen. At the squat, the distinct sense of the passage of time is felt more strongly than in places choreographed for the purpose of memorial preservation. Pristine and well-kept tourist destinations like Versailles reek of the authorial power that preserves them, their original splendor maintained through constant, strategic maintenance. Here, at the squat Jeudi Noir has called La Marquise, one gets the sense of rediscovering something that has been forgotten for a very long time. Ceiling ornamental murals, once brilliant with rich tones, are now chipping and faded. Metal detailing is rusted, doors creak, and a layer of irremovable dust encases everything. The squat is a scene of extreme juxtapositions that transcend social, economic, and temporal barriers. The eclecticism of the rooms is theatrical, comical, taxidermic even. Items of extreme wealth from another era coexist with makeshift contemporary materials. Household items from the 50’s still outfit the kitchens, and a telephone with a receiver is placed conveniently in a bathroom--once an item of luxury and convenience, now an absolute absurdity. The idiosyncrasy of the place appeals to my sensibilities and gets me thinking about space, inequity and appropriation. At its core the story resounds like a continuum in the French revolutionary tradition - a struggle between excesses and redistribution. It seems logical that a residence of this scale which remained under disuse for decades in one of the densest, most desirable cities be turned over for public use. On the other hand, as an American, I cannot help but express concern for the importance of property rights, a cornerstone of our constitution.

Previous pages: Interior courtyard during event Facing page: Laurianne dresses as a ballerina snaps a photo of Mo Harmon. Laurianne lives with her parents at the squat.

The notion that people have the right to do what they choose with their own land and property is one that has gone largely uncontested since John Lockeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s wrote his canonical textss concerning natural rights in the 17th century. At its most charged, the squat is a political statement: an act of socialism that questions and reconsiders the unconditional circumstances of manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s inalienable right to own. It raises an important question regarding the rights of ownership: what responsibility does an individual have to maintain his or her property? Architecture becomes personified - capable of being abused and neglected. At what point does one lose the right to his or her property, and then, who becomes the rightful owner? The case of the La Marquise suggests that abandoned architecture should be seized by someone who will treat the building with care. And more than that, people who have a vision for what the property can mean to a greater collective good.

than simply fix up the building. Always acting as a museum or exhibit to an interested public, the hotel particulier now plays other roles by opening its doors. Once a week, the squat hosts a small vegetable market; on Tuesday nights the courtyard hosts free concerts; and periodically, the grand drawing rooms become a stage for plays or improvisational dance performances. The squatters have single-handedly transformed the hotel particulier into an inhabitable museum and cultural destination. Given its context, the squat explicitly addresses Parisian housing reform. However, understanding the squat and its movement has implications beyond Franceâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s borders. As Americans interested in French strategies of appropriation for the creation of public space, the squat is particularly relevant to us. La Marquise makes a case for architectural activism. Or simply stated, it helps reconsider the typical role architects have played in the production of public space. Seeing Encore Heureux collaborate with the residents at the squat, and invest time and effort in an unconventional site with uncertain repercussions points to the possibility for a proactive practice.

The squatters at Place des Vosges are not lazy vagrants who contaminate the place with their presence. Rather, the squatters are actually improving the building by making it inhabitable once again. None squat completely out of necessity but because of an idealistic belief system. They are conscious of being implicated in a political issue greater than At the beginning of the last century, modernists called for architecture to materialize from its culture, or the Zeitgeist. the squat itself. Now acts like the squat call for an inversion of this cause With the help of Encore Heureux, Jeudi Noir is renovating and effect relationship. The question is not how the culture the structure to meet modern building code requirement. impacts architecture, but rather how can architecture change They have placed emergency exit signs in the basement, culture - to not only redefine what it means to own but also to reworked the plumbing systems and have restored electricity rethink the mode and methodology of design as an activism to the entire complex. But the squatters have done more rather than commercialism.

THE CLOTHES LINE DOUBLES AS A WALL. AND A FEW CATS HAVE MADE THEIR HOME IN THE ROOM. PLUS THE ROOM IS BEING USED AS A COMMUNAL BICYLCE STORAGE. SMALL PRICE TO PAY FOR LIVING QUARTERS IN ONE OF PARIS’ MOST DESIRABLE NEIGHBORHOODS. 1 BIS PLACE DES VOSGES. AND JEUDI NOIR HAS SET UP SHOP THERE. LAUREN VASEY AND MO HARMON SHARE THEIR EXPERIENCES SQUATTING A 17TH CENTURY HOTEL PARTICULIAIRE IN THE CENTER OF THE FRENCH CAPITAL.

Why did you choose to live there? What made you decide to stay? M H : Some of the appeal was that I would get to stay in Paris longer, and that I would feel less like a tourist and more like a native. The Speranza! project was also important to me, it sounded like I would be making a positive impact on society and it would be easier to convince my parents that I should stay. LV: Dear mom and dad, I am squatting illegally in a 17th century mansion in the heart of Paris. I might be arrested. I am designing buildings for the homeless, so it’s ok. Love you…. For me, I was fascinated by the idea that change could occur at the hands of individuals, both in the action of the squat, and in the specific architecture project, Speranza! I wanted to know how these projects came about, and how we could implement those strategies here in Detroit. We r e y o u n e r v o u s ? M H : Definitely nervous, but I was also excited. I was more nervous before Lauren decided to stay because I didn’t speak fluent French, and would be the only American there. LV: I was ready for a Paris adventure, but definitely not ready to be arrested. I did know going into this that it was a sanctioned and well connected squat, so that alleviated some of my fears. Where did they have you stay in the squat? LV: They gave us a room on the first floor right next to the communal kitchen that was actually an enfilade condition, or circulation space. People would always be walking in to use the bathroom or the kitchen, or to get to the connecting bedroom. How did you make this room feel like home? How did you make it feel private? LV: Our primary concern was visual privacy. We hung two sheets to section off a corner of the room. We could slide them to open up the space and let light in. M H : We wanted to define space with minimal materials and without harming the original architecture. We didn’t do much, but our actions did start the thinking process for Speranza!: What do people need to have a sense of ownership of space?

And daily life? M H : Some mornings we would wake up to classical music being played on the grand piano - some of the other squatters were really talented musicians. We would generally do work during the day in our room in the architect’s room, an attic space on the top floor. It was our studio space. We would cook most of our meals in the community kitchen, and then eat in the courtyard to be social LV: In the evenings, there would often be events at the squat: either drama or dance performances or concerts. We would try to attend all the squat events that we could. What difficulties did you have to deal with? LV: We didn’t have a shower in our room, so we would have to use the architects’ shower. When they weren’t there, we couldn’t shower; it was sometimes difficult to be on the same schedule. Also, there was no hot water. M H : I got used to the cold showers quickly, but I can’t imagine taking them in the winter. One day, the water went off completely and we were worried it wouldn’t come back. LV: We thought it was the government taking action to shut down the squat, and that our squat days were numbered. There was also the time when as we were coming home, and a stranger tried to force his way into the space behind us as we were coming home. M H : We had to shut him out, but it was a complicated situation. Had he trespassed, what would we tell the police, “I’m living illegally here, but another man is trying to come in, also illegally?” We didn’t legally have the right to the place more than anyone else did. LV: Right, the squat was essentially a protest for the rights of the homeless, but to actually let the homeless live there would mean undermining the media’s representation of the movement. Prior to the cogent establishment of the squat, there were certainly homeless people spending time in Place des Vosges neighborhood. So they had watched the residence disintegrate for years, only to suddenly be inhabited by people that had moved in as a political statement and who did not truly need a place to live.

This page from top: Mo Harmon takes a morning shower Working with Romain Minod and Nancy Ottaviano on Speranza! Temporary partition and ceiling

Architectural militancy adheres to strict rules. Nicolas Delon and Julien Choppin of Encore Heureux consult with the squatters at 1bis Place des Vosges in order to bring the building up to code. Strategic step in legalizing illegal occupancy. This page from top: Nicolas Delon, Julien Choppin Romain Minod View from 1bis Places des Vosges Facing page: lower level gallery space

Did you get to know the other squatters well? LV: We got to know the other architects of the squat very well, particularly Romain Minod and Nancy Ottaviano, who worked on Speranza! with us. They convinced the other squatters to let us stay, trusting that we wouldn’t do any damage to the place, and that we would do good work. We found out afterwards that there had been some resistance to us moving in. The group, all 37 of them, actually makes decisions by veto. Initially some of them were opposed to us working and not getting paid. And then later some of them doubted that our intentions in squatting were genuine. I understand their misgivings: all of them are taking huge personal risks in squatting, whereas we weren’t really taking a risk. If the squat had been shut down, we probably just would have been sent back to America. M H : Many of the squatters would make an effort to talk to us, but not all of them spoke fluent English. Some of their preconceived notions about Americans were funny at times. On one of our last nights, Lauren - the wonderful cook that she is - and I made dinner for a handful of the squatters. When I first suggested the idea, they reluctantly accepted: half expecting us to boil hot dogs or buy McDonalds takeout. They really thought that all Americans don’t know how to cook. LV: Really its only 95% of Americans that can’t cook, so we really showed them. Our boiled hot dogs were delicious. Though we did have to deal with some animosity, the first people to really accept us at the squat were the children. They had no reservations about American strangers, and were often running around the mansion un-chaperoned. They didn’t always respect the public/private threshold implicit in our highly technical sheet set up, however. It’s interesting, the squat produced a very interesting and successful child care system. The parents would be somewhere in the complex, but because there were always some people around, there were always people to watch their children. We gained respect and trust of the parents by playing with their kids. M H : The kids were very curious about us: would chase us around and take pictures of us, or play soccer with us. They didn’t speak English, but would still try and communicate in French to us. The older ones would be willing to put the effort in to speak slowly - which sometimes wouldn’t help - and use a lot of hand motions. My time in Paris greatly increased my ability to speak with my hands.

Yo u w o r k e d w i t h t h e s q u a t t e r s o n S p e r a n z a ! Will you continue to work on the project? What did you learn from the experience, or what do you plan to take back to the states? LV: I’ve noticed! that I end a lot of more! of my written words with exclamation marks! In all seriousness, Speranza! is a project that can never be finished. There will always be a need for pragmatically flexible architecture, for mutable spaces that can alleviate problems such as homelessness. Speranza! Is also siteless, meaning that it could be applied to any place. I would be interested in continuing the work in Detroit if there’s interest. M H : One of the issues with activist projects like Speranza! is that they have to be financially supported somehow. Garnering support generally had to be networking: pitching an idea or design proposal, and then seeing where we could get materials, space, or money. If we want to continue the work here in the states, it would have to operate similarly. LV: At school, it often feels as if design is hypothetical: an exercise that never actually comes to fruition in the real world. It would be satisfying to build actual structures for people. To continue the work in Paris, I’m writing an article for the Speranza! website and intend to continue my involvement across borders. M H : And as for the specific design that we proposed to the Mayor’s representative, Romain and some others are working now on building the physical prototype. Hopefully, the final design will be implemented this winter. Based on your experience, do you support squatting? LV: This particular squat was a very unique situation, but squatting as an action cannot be generalized: it doesn’t solve the issues that it provokes. The squat raises awareness that there are enough buildings in the world to house everyone, but because of the way our society functions, not everyone has a roof over their heads. Through some combination of generosity and good design, we could alleviate problems such as homelessness. How these designs can be implemented, whether through architectural activism or the work of non-profit organizations, is a question to be answered by our architectural generation.

SPERANZA! /story by Mo Harmon /photography by Lauren Vasey and Mo Harmon

There is an old French story called Vendredi ou les Limbes du Pacifique in which a man is stranded on a desert island. Isolated and ill equipped, he must build his own habitat: the kind of world he wants to live in. He names the island Speranza, literally meaning “hope,” in Italian. This title Speranza is a namesake adapted by a group of architects in Paris to describe a collection of their projects. These Speranza! projects are a collection of humanistic proposals in which architecture is used responsibly to build affordable structures for those who need it. The overarching premise is broad, but the common idea is to act specifically with small scale level projects that collectively can make a significant impact for the people that they benefit. Lauren and I were given a place to stay at Place des Vosges because we would be working on a specific project for Speranza! Down the street from Place des Vosges, the City Hall of the 4th arrondissement converts one small room into an overnight homeless shelter when the temperature drops in the winter. There they offer men and women small beds on which to rest in a warm environment. Though the homeless shelter is already operating, the existing system leaves qualities to be desired. What they do not yet offer their users is the sense of home and security that accompanies the ownership of space. That is where architecture steps in. For us, the project was two fold- involving both research and design. We began the project by considering similar precedent projects. That research proved difficult, however, because of a lack of published material on architecture for homeless shelters; many people just do not find inexpensive architecture for the homeless an interesting topic. Thinking about precedent projects became more abstract; rather than thinking about specific projects, we thought about qualities we wanted the design to embody: to be easily constructible, programmatically flexible, mutable, and recyclable. We pieced together different projects – whether they were realized or only hypothesized – to create an ongoing database of precedent studies to consider in our own design.

Our goals for the redesign of the shelter were fairly simple. We needed to create living spaces that would not only provide a place to rest; they would offer visual, audio, and light privacy as well as provide secure storage for personal items. Because the City Hall uses the room during the day, the design also needed to be easily collapsible to make room to accommodate the daytime program - meeting and exhibition room. Furthermore, the overall cost needed to fit into a tight budget. A seemingly natural solution to every problem was the concept of folding. Everything we wanted to offer the users – beds, tables, shelves, lockers, and partition walls – could fold out of a compact central module. This flexibility of space allowed the design to not only collapse, but allowed the folded up structure to be used productively as a standard exhibition wall during the day. Costs would be minimized by maximizing four living areas folding out of a single exhibition wall. To present our ideas for the space, we met with the mayor’s representative. The team decided there was no better way to present our design ambitions than in pop up book form. The pop up book embodied the qualities we wanted the final design to embody - space that materializes out of minimal volume. For something to come from nothing. It was a risky move – if done poorly it would appear tacky and childish; but done well it would display our design strategy in a visually tangible way. The risk paid off and the conversation quickly changed from a question of approval to a question of how can this project move further. We continued design work, but pretty soon our ninety days allotted to us by the government of France were over. As we left Paris, we left this Speranza! project with a clear design direction and momentum. Though no design is ever perfect, our final proposal fulfills our original design ambitions: living areas unfold from a single over-sized exhibition wall. The design is also flexible enough to accommodate a varying number of users and leaves room for other necessary programs such as a cooking area and living room. The project is currently in progress and we are very excited to see it come to fruition.

manufacturing attractors

memory as catalyst

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/introductory text by Anya Sirota /story by Katie Baldwin /photography by Katie Baldwin, Lauren Bebry, Noureen Dadani and Ivan Adelson

While globalization evens the figurative economic playing field, cities are compelled to compete on an international stage for attention and presence. City agendas, related to investment, job growth and tourism, depend on individuation and place marketing. In the past years, significant resources and energy have been allocated to creating new urban attractors. However for the most part, regenerative urban schemes have become synonymous with highly designed architectural structures and their symbolic relationship to cultural production. In the case of Saint Etienne’s Cité du Design, Finn Geipel and Giuli Andi of Lin Architects, worked on an attractor scheme that differed in many ways from typically-deployed “wow-factor” iconography. Sited in a former arms manufacturing complex known as “La Manufacture”, the Cité du Design suggests that thematic inspiration, rather than pure visual vanguard, might serve as the driver for manufacturing attractors. When converting the old factory facility – its courtyards, inner streets and green spaces – cues were taken from the Museum of Art and Industry, founded in Saint Etienne by Marius Vachon in 1889. Thus recalling what was arguably a long tradition of design and production, the complex is positioned as an international institute for industrial design, research and exhibition. In this context, LIN Architects contend that strategic use of urban memory can salvage post-industrial space from oblivion by restoring a lost sense of identity. To put La Manufacture, and consequently Saint Etienne, back on the economic map, Geipel and Andi follow a series of innovative steps. First, they create a symbolic visual presence by assembling a large scale observation tower. It functions both as signage and look out point. Next, they recuperate a number of the historical buildings - each with very different architectural qualities to house new programming, including: studio spaces, accommodations for scholars, workshops, image editing facilities and exhibition spaces. Finally, they construct an innovative shell structure to serve as a “switchboard” for the site. It is called the Platine and contains the bulk of the public programming: the Agora, the exhibition and seminary platform, the auditorium, the Mediadisque, the greenhouse and restaurant. While the complex combines a wide array of spatial typologies, it ingeniously programs a small portion of the available site. By transforming only a fragment of the available space, Geipel and Andi predict that the organization of the Cité du Design will emerge organically over time. At Cité du Design, memory serves as a catalyst for establishing the unique potential of the vacated site. But memory alone does not suffice to reprogram the entire troubled complex. Here LIN Architects display restrained confidence in memory’s potential, electing to leave spaces vacant for future emergent uses.

Katie Baldwin, Noureen Dadani and Lauren Bebry stroll the grounds of the Cité du Design toward sunset.

emergent program and why we heart it so Emergent program starts with the idea that the urban void is a myth, that the moment a site is drained of its original program, new uses take root. Emergent program refers to the disparate, unauthorized, burgeoning appropriations which can be observed on a site. Temporary or longlived, emergent program can serve as a catalyst for inclusive, multiplicitous urban grounds and assumes that architecture is in constant transformation and movement. Below: ticket counter in platine courtyard and design school view from observation tower

In the case of the Cité du Design, LIN architects proposed a project that in the absence of a vital, emergent program, would keep a placeholder for future uses. Their intervention is tactically and unapologetically partial and open-ended. The Cité du Design in its current state was entirely conceived by the city government. The project was commissioned by the city as a new home for the design biennale. The abandoned arms manufacture site was an obvious choice of location for the St. Etienne’s reinvention of itself as the art and design capital of France. Through funding made available by the city, the Loire Valley province and the French Ministry of Culture, the Cite du Design was built with the expectation that it would create new jobs and attract internationally acclaimed artists and designers. The design also serves as a brand new space for the St. Etienne School of Art and Design. The school’s previous facilities, located farther from the city center, were run down and cramped for space. The new buildings face a different set of issues. Because of the sterility of the spaces, the art students find it difficult to treat the facilities as their own. Rather than making exceptional use of the renovated buildings, many students have turned towards the still-abandoned H-buildings of the arms manufacture site. These buildings, used only once every two years to house the biennale, consist of vast open spaces that can be utilized in a variety of ways to host exhibitions, shows and galleries arranged by the students. While visiting the site, more activity was taking place in these dusty buildings with broken windows than in the pristine schoolhouse buildings opposite the chain link fence. Most recently, Alexandre Chemetoff has come on board to treat the “placeholder” buildings and landscape. Chemetoff, an accomplished landscape architect and urban designer, has proposed an entirely new concept for the arms manufacture site that focuses on the main axis running through the abandoned H buildings. His design addresses the potential program as predicted through observations of how the space is being used now by the population present. Chemetoff’s plans for the arms manufacture site bring hope to a space that seems to have outdone itself with fancy design. Chemetoff knows that there is far more to a sexy building than its cladding. Rather, it weighs on our collective conscience as architects to design spaces that can be utilized by the people who intend to use them. We love emergent program, not only because it is spontaneous and wild, but also because without it we find ourselves designing empty boxes with shiny finishes.

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;Elegance does not consist of putting on a new dressâ&#x20AC;? - Coco Chanel

architecture & lace /story by Devon Stonebrook /photography by Matt Nickel, Tyler Willis and Jordan Buckner

NORMANDY HAS A LONG TRADITION OF MAKING LACE. IT GOES BACK CENTURIES. BUT IS WASN’T UNTIL LAST YEAR THAT THE AREA GOT A MUSEUM TO SPOTLIGHT THIS TRADITION. ARCHITECTURE BY MOATTI AND RIVIÈRE. SCENOGRAPHY BY PASCAL PAYEUR.

At La Citè International de la Dentille et de la Mode de Calais, architects Moatti and Rivière operate on an existing building like a well tailored garment, amplifying its structural characteristics, sculpting a desirable figure that is fresh but not entirely unrecognizable. Their tactics tell a narrative of the building’s former use as a lace factory. Transformed into a museum for textiles and fashion, the building recalls the meticulous detailing of a lace making. Exterior glazing wraps around the front building, bulging in and out like fabric hugging the curves of a woman’s figure.

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The facade is embellished with a rhythmic pattern inspired by the traditional lace making template. Entering the lobby of the museum, visitors are lured by a shingled application of metallic tags that line the hallway walls. Atop the metal, fluorescent tubes are mounted vertically as wall sconces, adding an intimate yet industrious glow to the interior. Traditionally, lace factories were designed to allow natural light to enter the building through repeated window frames coated with a protective blue tinting that prevented the sun from damaging the fabric. Giving a contemporary twist to the utility of tinted windows, Moatti and RiviĂ¨re layered an array of neon film along the top two rows of glazing facing the courtyard. Both bold and frivolous, the neon panes cascade a rainbow of light into the upper hallways of the gallery space, adding a dose of flair to the lingerie, gowns, and woven furniture showcased inside. The Lace Museum in Calais was revamped like a well balanced ensemble, juxtaposing historical remnants of the factory with vibrant allure to give the building a deliciously fresh identity. The result is a building that reminds us why the intersection of fashion and architecture is so exciting. Both architecture and fashion, when done well, provide protection and structure, both play with privacy and exhibitionism, both project a constructed identity, and dare i say, produce affect. Scaled to the body or the city, the theatrics and intelligence of a well-constructed piece are irresistible. 108

>> construct

/story by Bruce Findling /photography by Brittany Roy and Jordan Buckner

/ PRODUCT

PRODUCTION vs

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The philosophy of the contemporary construction site is one of budget, schedule and most importantly, quality. The path we as contractors take to get to this end however is not always the most glamorous, or at times legal. In fact, when owners and consultants make the weekly rounds in what is normally deemed as the â&#x20AC;&#x153;dog and pony showâ&#x20AC;?, work areas are cleaned, dangerous activities postponed, and subcontractors are plumbed up to be on their best and safest behavior. When the tour is over, however, things usually fall back into their typical state of organized chaos. The effort it takes to get a large commercial site into presentable shape can be daunting, and although getting workers home to their families is the absolute priority, it can sometimes appear otherwise to the casual public observer. Forward to Le Channel in Calais, where the actual construction became just as - if not more so - than the end product. When I first heard that the public was invited to become part of the construction process, I cringed inside (and apparently outside), thinking of constant safety supervision grinding production to a halt. This gut reaction is completely unjustified however when one realizes that speed and cost are not the most important thing here. Having a site where a resident can come by and spend a few hours observing and participating in regards to the

way their town is being constructed has a multitude of advantages, the most important being a sense of ownership over the project once it is completed. Furthermore, architects and subcontractors gain free publicity and form a greater relationship with the customer and local area as a whole, boosting the image and accessibility of both parties (this is especially critical for the architectural profession which is estimated to serve only 2% of the American population). Completion dates can now be flexible since users are already inhabiting the intended site, and the cost increases due to extending schedule duration and increasing safety elements can be negotiated into contracts before work begins. Though it takes a truly civic minded project to make use of this new technique in building, the potential payoff from the resulting public goodwill seems worthy of the preparation needed to make it all click successfully and safely. Though the prevailing construction culture here in the U.S. makes it difficult to understand how a customer-interactive jobsite can function, hearts and minds can always be changed. Especially on smaller projects where insurance liability can be more easily handled than the typical large scale commercial job. Besides, the construction phase has always been my favorite part of experiencing a building, so why not let everyone else get a chance to enjoy it too?

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G R E E N + T R A P + +

Christopher Ponceau

of Rue du Repos talks landscape, scenography and the quest for blurred boundaries. We caught him at his retreat in Ozenay, Bourgogne, where he is currently restoring an 18th century farm house. Christophe tells us why Gilles Clement refuses the notion of mauvaise herbe, French for weed, and why heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s having second thoughts about it.

/interview by Anya Sirota /portrait courtesy of Jean Pierre Danesi /Green Trap and Zaragoza photography courtesy Christophe Ponceau /Green Trap with train photo courtesy of Andres Otero /Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde photo courtesy France Dubois

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You are trained as an architect, but practise landscape architecture? What happened? Nothing terrible. Honestly. I never anticipated working with landscape. It was just a series of events, of chance encounters, and one thing led to another. I met Gilles Clement when I was presenting my thesis project in architecture school. He was on the jury. And he invited me to work with him on a few exhibition projects. It really wasn’t landscape, it was the representation of landscape. But I began to discover the milieu, little by little. It’s true that I am an unlikely landscape architect. I do exhibits, artistic installations, private gardens. And in the process, I am always learning. Perhaps in spite of, or even thanks to, my unconventional training, I work with living material in a surprising, unanticipated, dare I say, architectural way. And working with living material? Challenging? It’s really inspiring. Architectural material tends to be fixed. It’s static and corresponds in my mind to a weighty design responisibility. A landscape begins when the design phase is terminated; you see it shift, grow, take shape, morph through time. There is always an a element of surprise. The material is in a constant state of motion. You often talk about how a project starts for you when in fact the installation is finished. How is that? Landscape is in constant transformation, which i why I love to follow my projects, to visit them on occasion, to track their progress, to see what they have become. With some clients I have developed a close relationship, and I’ll drop in for an occasional visit to see how things are developing, to give them some feedback. In a public space things are different and really depend on the people who are taking care of the landscape. I try to visit the projects at least once a year to speak with the gardeners. But is always fascinating how people take possession of a design. You really have to learn to abdicate some control over your vision. Landscape is process-based: you plant, the design morphs, people respond, and then there are always modifications. And at some point, as a designer, you have to let go and let the garden take its own shape, to let it live in the hands of the people who care for it. Ultimately - and this might sound hokey - designing a garden is magic. You make a series of decisions and then are surprised by what nature has decided for you. How does the notion of time work with or against you when the installation is temporary? Take Green Trap for example? Green Trap is a temporary installation that we completed in Lausanne for the Festival du Jardin Urban (it takes place every four to five years). The idea was a basic cable structure fashioned in the form of web designed to join 2 bridges. The installation was 25 meters above ground. At the center of the cables a central node held a substrate with vegetation intended to invade the web over the span of the festival. It was visible from the street and from the passing metro. It was a very context specific proposal. Amusing. Very amusing to install. But it is important to understand that the ephemiral leaves you will less wiggle room for error. We needed to choose plants that are ferocious, adaptable, performative, strong. And we created the node 2 months prior to the installation in order to ensure that the plants had begun to invade. In fact, we initially built two identical nodes as back up. Because living material sometimes has a mind of its own, and you have to factor that in.

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And Zargoza?

This page bottom: Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, Didier Faustino, architect Facing page: Zaragoza French Pavillion installation with Combes & Renaud “un-still image” projection Previous Page: Green Trap installation completed in Lausanne in collaboration with Adrien Rovero

A very different project. Zaragoza hosted Expo 2008, a World’s Fair on water and sustainable development. I was in charge of the interior installation of the French Pavillion. The idea was to demonstrate the effects of water on the environment. And to do so we staged a controlled sensorial interior that was designed to reproduce the experiential effects of an exterior condition. Here’s the rub. We used a video installation by Combes & Renaud that required complete darkness. And we also planted the interior with native French vegetation, which required light. In addition to reconciling the question of lighting, which was literally done by “feeding” the plants at night when the exhibition was closed, there are also the issues of substrate, watering systems, hydrometrics. So, yes, to make a long answer short, it is sometimes challenging to produce a naturalistic environment that is ment to perform for a specific span of time. And to perform well. Is there much of a conversation developing between architecture and landscape in France? My impression is that there is not enough interaction between the two fields. The landscape architect still “submits” to the architectural project, deals with the its grandscale design. The desire of the architect still trumps in the built environment. And, as luck would have it, the landscape budget always comes in the end, which also means that its the first thing to get cut when funds run dry. If I were to think of an architect whose approach to the building process is inclusive, multiplicitous and humble enough to allow landscape its proper place alongside architecture, I would have to call out Patrick Bouchain. He equalizes the playing field in his practice. But I am sure that there are other architects that are inclusive in this manner. Having worked with Gilles Clement would you say that there is such a thing as a “mauvaise herbe” or “weed”? Of course, Gilles Clement would say that “bad plants” do not exist; they are the James Deans of the vegetal world, testy, but seductive, and, yes, necessary. But I have to be honest, now that I am working on my own garden, I am starting to have second thoughts. Some plants are really agressive, and you can’t help but want to weed them out.. In terms of appreciating their vitality, understanding their potential, theorizing the weed - I think there is value in that. Every territory comes with its seeds and its strata and deserves to be considered, respected. In my practice I learn a lot from weeds, from the landscape of the friche - with ideas about interaction, transformation, contamination, blurred borders.

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an•thro•po•mor•phic, adjective

1: described or thought of as having a human form or human attributes <anthropomorphic deities> 2: ascribing human characteristics to nonhuman things <anthropomorphic supernaturalism>

ar•chi•tec•ture, noun

1: the art or science of building; specifically: the art or practice of designing and building structures and especially habitable ones 2a: formation or construction resulting from or as if from a conscious act <the architecture of the garden> 2b: a unifying or coherent form of structure <the novel lacks architecture>

an•thro•po•mor•phic/ar•chi•tec•ture

Inspired by Todd Weinstein’s, The 36 unknown, photographic endeavor in which he “photograph[ed] abstract faces that [he] saw hiding in the shadows and light of different locations.” I find interest in capturing the emotions, physical expressions, anthropomorphic moments Todd discovered while traveling throughout Poland. The image is not something sought after; it is something which appears. The project here was not an intentional search for facial expressions, human resemblance, anthropomorphic characters within architecture but rather a chance encounter. I do not go looking for them, they come looking for me, and eventually we find each other. Though seemingly awkward when isolated from the entire structure, these images tell a story, a history of a place; the photographs create narratives, bringing new meaning to each site. / series and text by Ivan Adelson

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ISBN 978-0-557-65276-1

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