Erickson Díaz-Cortés Portfolio by Erickson Díaz-Cortés

ERICKSON DIAZ-CORTES Selected Works 2019-2021 Master of Architecture ‘21 University of South Florida

Printmaking Studio & Archive Advanced Design Studio Martin Gundersen & Robert MacLeod Fall 2019

Breaking the (Suburban) Fourth Wall Florida Landscape Seminar Nancy Sanders Summer 2020

Venice Biennale Satellite Space: Watchtower & Gallery Advanced Design Studio Martin Gundersen & Robert MacLeod Fall 2020

Queer Space: An Inquiry Into Spatial Queerness as a Means to Critique Architecture Masters Project Mark Weston Spring 2021 53

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Printmaking Studio & Archive Advanced Design Studio Professors: Martin Gundersen & Robert MacLeod Fall 2019

For this project, we were tasked with creating a fabrication space within the Seaport District of Boston, Massachusetts. The area is currently a desolate neighborhood that was once filled with industrial spaces. Nearby, the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) has begun stimulating the neighborhood, bringing in an invigorating crowd of artists and students from Boston and all around the world. In order to further stimulate this up-and-coming artist community, I created a Printmaking Studio and Archive. The central idea and rationale of the building’s quirky geometry harkens to the main premise of printmaking. In printmaking, an artist creates an image on a stencil, and with every edition created, the image will vary to some degree with every new iteration. This variation in morphology translates itself architecturally in that the roof is comprised of the same rectangular geometry that morphs with every new iteration. All of these forms are contained within the rectangular roof, which harkens to a relief block. When one carves into a linoleum or wood block, some portions of the block will be more raised than others. This idea portrays itself spatially as the skylights both portrude out as well as carve down into the workspace.

Generative Basic Massing

Greater Boston Site Plan

The graphic below takes visual cues from James Stirling’s elevation oblique drawings made from a worm’s eye perspective. In the Printmaking Studio, each individual skylight was designed with the human perspective in mind. Each aperture is positioned on top of a specific space, such as the gallery, studios, and main printmaking space. The sections below demonstrate the range of width and depth of each skylight.

James Stirling, Elevation Oblique Drawing

Birds-Eye-View of Construct as Three Generative Prints

Worm’s-Eye-View Axonometrics

Exterior North-Eastern View

rth

Fid

The fabrication space is monolithic, yet its skylights are light and effortless in nature. Graphically imposing from a plan view, it imprints a new image in the currently desolate, industrial area of Seaport District, Boston, MA. This space, along with the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) nearby, will undoubtedly continue vitalizing the area.

1”=38’=0”

GROUND LEVEL

BASEMENT LEVEL 13

1 LOBBY 2 OFFICE 3 ARTIST STUDIO 4 PRINTMAKING SPACE 5 RESTROOMS 6 GALLERY 7 DARKROOM 8 UTILITY ROOM

1 ARCHIVE SPACE 2 OFFICE 3 RESTROOMS 4 ELECTRICAL ROOM 5 MECHANICAL ROOM 6 HALLWAY W/ EXTERNAL ACCESS 14

1”=38’=0”

ROOF LEVEL

1 ROOF

1”=40’=0”

LEVEL 2-ROOF TOP 30’-0” 3

LEVEL 1-GROUND 0’-0”

BASEMENT -15’-0”

1 2 3 4 5

OFFICE PRINTMAKING SPACE DARKROOM ARCHIVE ROOFTOP

1”=40’=0”

LEVEL 2-ROOF TOP 30’-0”

LEVEL 1-GROUND 0’-0” BASEMENT -15’-0”

1 2 3 4 5

OFFICE PRINTMAKING SPACE DARKROOM ARCHIVE ROOFTOP

Printmaking Studio Space

Gallery Space

Physical Model With & Without Roof

Breaking the (Suburban) Fourth Wall Florida Landscape Seminar Professor: Nancy Sanders Summer 2020

Breaking the (Suburban) Fourth Wall is about stumbling into the unprogrammed space that happens just behind any planned subdivision or neighborhood. In this case, it was my neighborhood at the time, located in Mount Dora, Florida. While beginning a cartographic construct for this topic, I referred to James Corner’s “Agency of Mapping”, specifically where it declares, “Make a map not a tracing! The Map has to do with Performance, whereas the Tracing always involved an “alleged competence”. When thinking of the ideas of Tracing versus Mapping, I classified Tracing as surface level information one could easily find on a regular map. Contrary, Mapping is about a physical experience. My Mapping of this specific site is about performance, maneuvering through the grounds, inspecting layers of flowers, mushrooms, ants, peat, and clay. This is information you cannot experience from an aerial perspective on a map. While this project was a way of analyzing my own experience within this peculiar space, the mapping ultimately became a critique on the twilight zone that is Suburbia, the normalization of cookie-cutter homes, the inefficiency of front lawns, and the way we stopped questioning the way they intervene on the fragile landscapes of Florida.

On opposite page: Site Plan

On a hot Spring morning, I walked to the complete opposite side of the neighborhood I was newly residing in, at the time. I noticed the street and sidewalk ended abruptly. As there were no fences or no-trespassing signs, I continued walking past the end of the trail. Some twenty, thirty feet after, I found myself enveloped in a lush, natural landscape. This set of photos attempts to capture my peripheral view as I witnessed the awkward construction of the trail.

As I entered the forest, I quickly noticed the range of color and flora within the landscape. I was particularly drawn to the extraterrestrial-looking Passion Flower. Other wildflowers and mushrooms decorated my immediate space.

Just past the heavily colored, dense forest, a clearing appears. As I reached this area, I suddenly forggot I was is in the middle of Suburbia. This space made me feel as if I was somewhere new and unseen, when really, this is what the landscape once looked like before human intervention. 32

Memory Mapping Through Drawings

These memory-mappings depict three main scenes within my experience of the space. They take us through the juxtaposition of the suburban to natural. The first, shows the abrupt end of the sidewalk that acts as the bridge between both spaces.

Depicting the Passion Flowe ture the peculiarity in the fl tendrils first capture our atte inspecting the inside. At firs but is actually composed of

er, this drawing aims to capflower’s details. Its knotted ention, and seduces us into st glance it appears Purple, f dozens of hues.

This final illustration depicts the opening of the forest, exposing the hills and valleys that cannot be seen from the neighborhood streets. All of these natural, intimate scenes have been tucked away behind the neighborhood ever since its inception.

The first half of this cartographic construct is about spatially trying to understand the abrupt end of my neighborhood’s sidewalk and witnessing the juxtaposition between the Planned Subdivision and suddenly being enveloped in Flatwoods, then coming out on the other side and discovering a large clearing with valleys and views that are unseen from the actual street.

Once within the undisocvered site, the ground transitions to a mixture of tall weeds, wildflowers, and clumps of sand and soil. As I look closely at the tan, ochre portions of the ground, I am able to also discern mushrooms and pine remnants with similar dark hues. I also see the occasional Passion Flower, which adds vibrant hues of Purple around the landscape.

After leaving the site, I noticed some Passionflowers, similar to the ones I found on the site, were planted on someone’s front lawn. This further emphasized my observations and thoughts on the planned versus the natural. I thought about the way humans overly mannicure their lawns to create some sort of perfection when this same exact flora grows so effortlessly a couple of feet away behind the neighborhood.

Although I thought of my site as being a mysterious, alternate space- which it still is- after making all of this, it has become apparent that Suburbia itself is more of an illusion than the site I stumbled upon just behind my neighborhood. It was being able to step outside of Suburbia that allowed me to realize just how much of an illusionistic space and man made typology it all really is.

Venice Biennale Satellite Space: Watchtower & Gallery Advanced Design Studio Professors: Martin Gundersen & Robert MacLeod Fall 2020

Venice Biennale Satellite Space: Watchtower & Gallery Advanced Design Studio Professors: Martin Gundersen & Robert MacLeod Fall 2020 The Arsenale neihgborhood in Venice is known around the world for hosting the Venice Biennale; hosting the best art, architecture, dance, film, and provocative ideas and work from different nations around the world. This design creates a satellite location for the Biennale through the introduction of a Watchtower and Gallery. As a result of the experimental, unpredictable nature of artist work in the Biennale, these spaces take on the form of flexible vessels that shift and change according to the artist in need. As an antithesis to the white-cube-gallery space, these vessels challenge the notion of stagnant white spaces and fluorescent lighting. Through the embedded apertures and promenades throughout, the artwork inside breathes and shifts as a result of the fluctuating light piercing in. The longer volume is a dedicated gallery space, housing smaller-scaled works. The taller structure doubles as a Watchtower and Sun Dial, allowing occupants to track the sun and its effect on the larger-scaled works within.

The Arsenale neighborhood has long been a maleable, fluctuating, and inaccesible space. The goal of these vessels is to create an anchor within the north-end of the neighborhood that allows for accesibility, culture, and artistic potential within the block; solidifying a link to the Venice Biennale.

Gallery Space Entrance

Gallery & Watchtower Interstitial Space

2 3

1 2 3 4

ENTRANCE GALLERY SPACE SUNRISE SPACE DOCK

1 2 3 4

ENTRANCE INSTALLATION SPACE SUNRISE SPACE SUNSET SPACE

The Watchtower tracks the shifting of light throughout the day through its various penetrations. Each facade offers a different filter for the incoming light, creating a dialogue with the occupants and artwork housed within. 50

Watchtower Entrance

South-Eastern View

Queer Space: An Inquiry Into Spatial Queerness as a Means to Critique Architecture Masters Project Thesis Chair: Mark Weston Spring 2021

In an age where Identity Politics are constantly reminding us to reconsider our social lives, educational structures, and politics, I knew I needed to consider my own identity and put myself and the way I personally experience architecture at the forefront of my investigation. I have always felt like there is a disconnect in the discourse between queer identity and architecture. As a result, this query looks at architecture through a non-normative, queer lens. Queer: “differing in some way from what is usual or normal”. In today’s context, it is also a term used to self identify as something other than heterosexual and/or cisgender. It has become a word that queer people have been able to reclaim and take back the power of, as it used to be used as a Slur. Early on in my investigation, I defined Queer Space as “A space that is defined by a set of relationships between queer people, queer aesthetics, and queer intent/usage.” “From the Closet to the Disco” is about the process of Coming Out and figuring out how to navigate the “new world” Queer Individuals step into when they do come out. They begin to navigate the world differently, becoming hyper aware of how they are taking up space in a room. While I half-jokingly say I know when I am the only Gay person in a room; the reality is that I am extremely cognizant of when that is the case. This drawing is about how queer people have to figure out how to spatially and metaphorically insert themselves in a straight space and navigate environments post-coming out.

“From the Closet to the Disco”

As a way of setting a basis for this project, I knew I needed to read into arguably the most important Queer Space in Contemporary Queer History as a way of investigating a space where there is a relationship between queer people, queer aesthetics, and queer intent. I began reading about New York City’s Stonewall Inn, which was formerly a gay bar and is now a Historic Queer Monument in New York City. This is where the 1969 Stonewall Riots occurred, which launched the beginning of the Gay Rights Movement. The Riots began on the early morning hours of June 28, 1969. This night, NYC police raided the gay bar, violently hauling bar patrons and occupants out of the bar and onto the street, which ultimately resulted in a six day protest against police. In this instance, there is a clear shift from queer occupancy within a queer establishment, to then queerness asserting itself and spilling out onto the urban environment. This is when I noticed that Queerness and Queer Space in a certain scenario can take on many forms, and is largely dependent on its queer demographic, the specific environment, and intent/usage. Shortly after reading about Stonewall Inn, I felt the need to broaden my scope and investigate precedents that aren’t explicitly LGBTQ+ spaces, but have elements that we can begin to categorize as being Queer. I started using art and architectural history as a lens to look at historically significant spaces that weren’t considered “queer”, but in retrospect, I am classifying them as such. It was because of this thought that i began investigating the idea that: Queer space isn’t queerness itself but rather how queerness resolves itself through architectural design in general.

“Pride Was A Riot”

“Gender As Architecture”

Expressions of Gender can be found throughout architectural history. The Doric order in a column is traditionally considered to be the more “masculine” order, whereas the Ionic is thought of as “feminine”. I began thinking of the Corinthian Column and the Caryatid as being Gender Ambiguous and Queer. The Corinthian column is decadent, flashy, soft in its curves but strong in its craftsmanship. The Caryatid supports its entablature while also taking on the form of a sculpture. They both express the traditional roles of masculine and feminine objects and don’t exactly fit into a strict binary. 59

“Flaming Ho

Based off of Antoni Gaudi’s Sag Queer as a result of its extreme ance. Gaudi’s architecture is so boyant Architecture. The term used as a slur to describe an o son. Flamboyant architecture is kens to the idea of a “Flaming ating what is meant to be a slur dichotomy between the setting design in the background and cutout used in the foreground.

omosexual”

grada Familia, this collage is e decoration and exuberometimes reffered to as Flamm “Flamboyant” is sometimes overly-expressive queer pers also flame-like, which harHomosexual”. By approprir, I have created a theatrical of a fire, Gaudi’s flamboyant the vintage gay magazine

“Queer Rococo”

If queer space can be qualified by decoration and exuberance, then the same can be said about the Rococo, which is notorious for its heavy, sometimes-gaudy decoration. During this period, utilitarian objects such as clocks, mirrors, and candlesticks were “queer-ified” and turned into stylish works of art. Architectural elements became sensual in their elaborate curves and scrolls, which then lend themselves to themes of frivolity and human sexuality. The Rococo period displays a clear shift away from religion and into human sexuality and desire; and the architecture reflects that as well. 60

Parliament House in Orlando as a Case Study After considering my own nearby environments as a way of investigating Queer Spaces in Architecture, I began using Orlando’s Parliament House as a case study. Parliament House was Orlando’s oldest LGBTQ+ club and hotel, open since 1975. Unfortunately, it was forced to close down and was bulldozed in 2020 due to bankruptcy and mismanagement. Through this collage, I visually dissected the different elements that made Parliament House unique, such as the multiple interior and exterior club spaces, the themed Drag Shows, a giant neon sign, the restaurants, a hotel and a pool area. I felt this was a really unique space because usually, Queer establishments only consist of a small bar or restaurant and don’t take up much of the Urban Grid. Parliament House, however, was essentially a Queer Compound with Queer mechanisms within.

“Vintage Parliament House”

“Parliament House (Q Hotel

Drag Stage & Pool

Queer Kit of Parts)” Disco

Neon Sign

This aerial perspective drawing of Parliament House both memorializes the space and also visually lays out where all of its Queer Components are. Although Parliament’s architecture is quite banal and pedestrian, the individual programs inside aren’t. They are, what I am calling: Vessels for Queer Opportunity. 64

Vessels for Que

Queer Kit of Parts #1

Transition to Drag Stage

Gay Slide

Disco Ball as M

Queer Kit of Parts #2

Queer Appropriation

Pool, Stage, Dressing Room

Liminal Spage Stage & Dressi

eer Opportunity

Mobile

Between ing Room

The Dancing Stage

Corinthian Girls Watching

Disco Ball on Ground

Stage on Stage on Stage

Dressing Room

Treasury of Atreus as a Club

“The Drag Stage (A Vessel for Performance)”

Architecturally, a stage itself is merely a platform that is raised up in ord places for lip synchs, comedy shows, pageants, and runway shows their Drag Persona. The looped promenade just behind the stage beco process of changing their hair, makeup, clothing, and even their attitude 67

der to create a sense of spatial hierarchy and authority. But in a Queer Space, Stages are s. Before arriving to the stage, the Drag Performer has to get into character and become omes a transient space where a Drag Performer has to transform themselves through the e before going out onto the stage and in the spotlight. 68

“The Pool (A Vessel for Voyeurism)”

No one actually goes to swim at the Parliament House Pool. It is a sp This pool has long been a means or a vessel for cruising and bodily free breathe, and dictate what we wear (or lack thereof). It is a queer thing in 69

pace that houses queer people, mostly gay men. It allows them to see others and be seen. edom. Pools are unique in that they subvert the way we move our bodies, control how we n its own right. 70

“The Disco (A Vessel for Anonymity)”

Discos are highly layered both spatially and phenomenologically. There All of these elements create an artificial mood that is seductive and myst This pulsating blurs occupants’ faces and genders and in that mome aren’t extra-ordinary but their atmosphere makes people do what they do main lights- the sensual aura would disappear and everyone would beco the Disco Balls are altered from their typical orientations, the gels are dis Balls inside. In this instance: Queer Space is not physical but rather a

is an amalgamation of lighting, music, equipment, slippery floors, and dancing occupants. terious. These are usually dark spaces that are transformed by colorful, pulsating lighting. ent, the Disco becomes a space that we occupy anonymously. Architecturally, discos o. If one turned off the disco lights, got rid of the fog, stopped the music, and turned on the ome awkward with embarrassment and realize that they are in a simple box dancing. Here, sheveled, and we’re made to question the simple nature of the White Cube and the Disco Phenomenon or a Sensation. 72

“The Drag Stage (A Vessel for Performance)”

“The Pool (A Vess

sel for Voyeurism)”

“The Disco (A Vessel for Anonymity)”

“Parliament House (A Queer Compound)” Similar to the term “Queer”, the term “fruit” or “fruity” has a homophobic connotation attached to it when used negatively to describe a flamboyant person. Here, I have reappropriated that term in a pointed, playful manner, and used these Fruits as living characters in my miseen-scene. By doing this, I am also rethinking what an architectural prop even needs to look like. This arrangement of disparate elements resynthesizes Parliament House into a queer allegory. Now that Parliament House has been demolished, what happens to the memory of these spaces? Have they become obsolete? Is it possible to re-imagine and re-create these queer spaces once Parliament House is relocated and rebuilt into its future vessel? Jose Esteban Muñoz’s “Cruising Utopia” states, “Queerness is not yet here. Queerness is an ideality. Put another way, we are not yet queer. We may never touch queerness, but we can feel it as the warm illumination of a horizon imbued with potentiality. We have never been queer, yet queerness exists for us as an ideality that can be distilled from the past and used to imagine a future. the future is queerness’s domain.” This masters project aims to distill from the past and imagine a more Queer Future.

Thank you for you

ur consideration!

END