INSTITUT FÜR KUNST UND ARCHITEKTUR
ADP ANALOGUE DIGITAL PRODUCTION CMT CONSTRUCTION MATERIAL TECHNOLOGY
www.akbild.ac.at/ika
ESC ECOLOGY SUSTAINABILITY CULTURAL HERITAGE
INSTITUTE REVIEW FOR ART WINTER AND 2020 ARCHITECTURE could however be rearranged vertically. How can I repack my room, or what do I leave out? How do I move in this new space?
LIVING DURING LOCKDOWN – VERTICAL DUETS FIRST YEAR Christina Condak Daniela Herold Sofia Abendstein Arda Arin Vladislava Bugaeva Rosa Dotzer Jakob Draz Planinsek Elliott Griffith Luke Handen Paula Hauschildt Lucia Herber Justa Jasaityte Jule Jungblut Marie Lang Robin Lindner Paul Mittnik Majed Naserie Malea Noll Laurin Saied Florentin Schumann Moritz Tischendorf Xaver Wizany Reviewers and guests Ariella Katz Linda Lackner Antje Lehn Sabina Riss Lisa Schmidt-Colinet Hannes Stiefel Wolfgang Tschapeller
The cell, the cabin, the shelter, the tent, the cabinet, the pod, the shed, the chamber, the room, the frame – at what point does a small space, or a piece of furniture even, become something that is part of architecture? What kinds of questions and ideas in design raise the disciple and make the distinction? How is the human body intertwined with patterns of making space and things around us? This past semester, we challenged typical dimensions of domestic spaces and ideas of comfort in the urban setting by carefully studying the body in movement doing ordinary things. Pushed into an already precarious situation, being a student today, moving from city to city in Europe, knowing another lockdown would be imminent, the private room and the “livework” life became the focus of our studio through a series of calculated explorations. Drawn from above, students’ rooms and belongings were surveyed, almost archaeologically. Living patterns mapped and daily routines traced into linear representations revealed aspects of space and repetitions of use. We questioned what we need and can share – in terms of furniture, objects and space. What is the difference between just “making do” and living a decent life under any circumstances? What do the terms adaptability or flexibility really imply? As the semester inevitably rolled on from hybrid mode to the second lockdown, we allowed this extreme condition to challenge us. The room drawings led to the idea of “shrinking”: the original room was shrunk to fit into a square plan of 222 x 222 centimetres (about the size of a large bed). The room shrank, but the objects and furniture did not. The room
Since mental health and physical fitness are extremely important when confined, as we learned from the first lockdown, the project brief evolved: Now the body must move and use the space differently, forcing a change of habits and conventions by rearranging the order of things, and thereby changing many patterns. The final exercise was a design project called the “Vertical Duet”. In an imaginary “slot site” (also 222 centimetres wide, but up to 15 metres high) between two buildings, and in teams of two, the students were asked to design a private live-work unit for themselves, with spaces to share in this confined site condition. They wrote their own briefs for living together, with adaptable plans for lockdown measures. Some projects dealt with temporary spaces of light construction, some had more seasonal designs, others were designed for permanent living. The imaginary slot site allowed the concentration of designing from the inside out, from the focus of use, the body, extending dimensions as the primary force of space and form. The students could concentrate on their ideas of coming and going, living in transitional spaces, unconstrained by the complexity of a real site. One of the vertical duet projects introduced the idea of a cupboard that would serve not only as a space for storing all the personal belongings of two people, but also include all facilities for living, i.e. a bath, toilet, kitchen elements, niches for beds, as well as circulation spaces. With a width of about 70 cm, pushed to one side of the slot along the neighbouring building, the compressed “cupboard” took up one third of the given site width. The remaining interstice became a kind of service space or space for manipulation. Equipped with sliding doors and removable elements, certain areas of the cupboard could be opened up and activated, for example a folding dining table or a tilting work table. Due to needs and daily routines, the cupboard reflects the performative aspect of living. Another duet project concentrated on the relation between living and gardening. The idea was to minimize the area of enclosed spaces in order to gain as much outdoor space as possible. Each activity, such as sleeping, working, cooking, bathing and studying, took the form of a floating “pavilion” or room, caught in the slot site, connected by the outdoors and by stairs. The live-work unit became a fragmented sequence of indoor and outdoor spaces, with gardens along the way. Each pavilion has a specific relation to “green” – whether as a roof extension for planting herbs and vegetables, or a terrace added to the private unit for growing a rose garden, or by opening up the bathroom to take a shower in the “ivy forest”. Together, they form one common vertical garden that becomes part of this shared life. The aspect of designing from the inside out was a core strategy of another duet project. Starting with the body’s performance of daily routines, the students decided on several units that were linked to one another, some of them for individual use, some shared. Since the units
were reduced to a minimum, there was no space left for mobile furniture. Therefore, furniture became an integrated part of the walls, floors and ceilings. Wherever a table, a seat, a bed or storage was needed, the built envelope was pushed outward as far as possible to permit each use. Through these manipulations, each unit wound up with a specific form, and the façade reached a certain thickness and topography. A topography was also generated by an-other project called a “stairway landscape”. Here, living is integrated along a ramp-like stair, extending all the way up the site, where the uses programmed the rise and run in irregular ways. Sometimes steeper and arranged in quick succession, one after the other, as stairs will be, sometimes flatter and further apart, evoking a spatial impression of a fluid landscape and creating a spatial sequence with specifically set views outward. The stair was seen not as an element to connect living spaces, but a surface to live on. Christina Condak, Daniela Herold Design Studio BArch1
→ fig. 1–2 / p. 5 → fig. 30 / p. 11 → fig. 39 / p. 13 → fig. 50 / p. 16
AN EXPLORATION OF THE SAVAGE, CHANGEFUL, NATURAL, GROTESQUE, RIGID & REDUNDANT IN ST. STEPHEN'S CATHEDRAL CMT Michelle Howard Luciano Parodi Olivia Ahn Lucas Fischötter Maximilian Gallo Alexander Groiss Paula Hattenkerl Felix Knoll Armin Maierhofer Jonathan Moser Diana Mudrak Anna-Elina Pieber Dana Radzhibaeva Paul Schurich Roxane Seckauer Marie Teufel Reviewers, guests and supporters Sandra Bartoli Lily Chi Günther Dreger Julian Goethe Roland Kollnitz Linda Lackner Miguel Paredes Maldonado Samuel Seger Nikolaus Studnicka Barbara Schedl Franz Zehetner Wolfgang Zehetner Marmor-Industrie Kiefer RIEGL Laser Measurement Systems Solnhofen Stone Group Steinmetz- und Steinbruchbetriebe Gustav Hummel
SMASHUP spanned one semester from October 2020 to January 2021 – a short time right at the epicentre of a period of enormous social, political and environmental change.1 Indeed, one
HTC HISTORY THEORY CRITICISM GLC GEOGRAPHY LANDSCAPES CITIES
could compare it to that which produced what we now call Gothic architecture (although the increased temperatures of the early Middle Ages were the result of natural forces and their effects benevolent2). SMASHUP was conducted within the CMT Platform, which resolutely embraces the heuristic path of empirical experimentation in the discovery of constructions, materials and technologies. Things that are implemented are usually born of practice, not theory. A good example of this is the ambition and adventurousness of Early Gothic cathedrals (according to the historian Guy Beaujouan, until the 13th century no more than five people in the whole of Europe knew how to do division). We actively seek out previously underestimated and partly forgotten methods, materials and ways of thinking. Much as an archaeologist uses new tools to unlock old mysteries in wellknown fossils, we seek to unlock new ways of constructing our lived environment. The rapid spread of the coronavirus3 and the resulting lockdowns have called into question long-established systems, including those that underpin the architectural establishment. Our restricted sphere of movement gave us the opportunity to discover Saint Stephen’s Cathedral. Indeed, it was one of the few places to remain open during lockdown. Three people generously shared their intimate knowledge of the cathedral: Wolfgang Zehetner, the Dombaumeister, part of an uninterrupted line dating from the 13th century, took us on a marathon seven-hour tour of the cathedral which rendered us breathless from wonder and exhaustion. Franz Z ehetner, the cathedral archivist, opened up the archives to us. Barbara Schedl introduced us to the social and historical context in which the cathedral and its building process was embedded. Our prototypes this semester, produced against a background of minimal access to workshops and materials, are a collective book and model. The book, through its many authors, collects thoughts, constructs stories, excavates history, and connects foibles of the Middle Ages with the present day, using Saint Stephen’s Cathedral as a vehicle. Each student dealt with one specific SMASHUP of constructed elements together with their often manifold social and historical contexts. Each chapter or contribution embodies a small unit in the understanding of a larger collective endeavour. Its accomplice, the model, collects the objects of our research into scaffolding resembling the cathedral. Each piece is crafted by the students, collectively in the sense that they have all been scanned from reality and reconstructed digitally, and individually in the sense that the final analogue piece was not necessarily a result of collective preparation. Both book and model are unreasonable, inefficient and idiosyncratic: The book uses the paper format “Royal” (440 x 608 mm), established by the Bologna statutes of 13894, folded in two. It is a little bit shorter and a little bit wider than the standard DIN-A3 format. Because of this choice, all pages had to be printed in sets of two on a large-scale plotter, then cut to size and folded. Not all pages adhered to the Bologna format or even to the use of paper. This necessitated the development of devices to facilitate the process of assembly and adapt to the many
exceptions. The book is carried in an unwieldy box that is also a sort of lectern and support. It takes over 15 minutes to unwrap the book and set it up for reading. It weighs over 20 kilos and is at least 20 centimetres thick. There are no page numbers, but each separate study can be found with the help of bookmarks inscribed with masons’ marks. The model is at 1:125 scale, chosen because its dimensions in plan would closely match those of the opened book. In a sort of mystical logic, the model connects to the book by sitting on it rather snugly, a book-model SMASHUP. Scaling was surprising and confusing because during the process, we discovered that documents on the cathedral were often contradictory. So the minutely detailed, reconstructed medieval roof structure did not really fit on the scaffolding of the base. Dimensions in plans from the 17th century didn’t match those from the reconstruction after the fire of 1945, which also disagreed with contemporary plans, sometimes by over three metres. So the scaffolding carried insert models a little bit too tightly or a little bit too loosely, and often, elements that were intended to connect or overlay just didn’t. The book and the model, while the result of collective discussion and construction, are not free of physical and intellectual collisions. In this manner, they are perhaps a fitting tribute to the early Gothic period and the buildings that emerged from it. Gothic buildings are born from a specific context, an intertwining of the social, political, environmental and technological, each embedded in the difference, uniqueness, particularity and specificity of a society, situation and topography. Nevertheless, notwithstanding their manifold differences, they all share a common identity, a kind of counter-international style born out of the medieval warm period5 and the emergence of scholasticism on a bed of limestone reaching from Central Europe to England, with origins reaching to Northern Africa, Asia, India and the surprisingly extensive trade routes of the early medieval world. SMASHUP perceives all entities as elastic, exchanging influences and exerting attractive powers. SMASHUP supercharges argument, bounces against taste, preconceived ideas and laissez-faire politics. SMASHUP is not aggressive or threatening, confronting strong propositions, requiring them to coexist and improve. SMASHUP is antifragile6 and wears the badge of imperfection with pride. SMASHUP is the dialogue between balance and awareness, flying buttresses, custom-made tools and stereotomy … Michelle Howard, Luciano Parodi Design Studio BArch3
→ fig. 17–25 / p. 9 → fig. 48–49 / p. 15 1 A global pandemic has to date taken nearly three million lives and forced us to keep our distance from one another for over a year. The resulting collapse of travel, cultural and social activities or human contact has not reduced CO2 output enough to slow our pace towards climate disaster. An overtly racist and misogynist former reality star lost his bid to serve a second term as U.S. President and subsequently incited a coup on the seat of government. While abortion was legalised in Argentina, new laws in Poland made it almost impossible. Women in Belarus rose up to protest