I am an architecture student in my third year at the University of Technology Delft. I was born and raised in the Netherlands but I am now living and studying in Melbourne to broaden my horizon and enjoy architecture at the other side of the world. Besides architecture, I am interested in graphic and furniture design. When taking those most needed breaks in between studying architecture, I enjoy sports (tennis, korfball, volleyball, running, skiing and snowboarding), shopping and travelling.
In the Bachelor degree of Architecture in Delft, students are introduced to digital architecture in three ICT subjects. So far I have completed two of them and in these I have started to learn how to use the software Maya, AutoCad, Rhinoceros and Grasshopper. In my own design process I actually don’t like working with computer software. One of the reasons, I think, is that I was first introduced to digital architecture by Maya. While I think Maya is a wonderful program or rendering, I believe it is difficult for modelling your design because dimensions are relative rather than absolute and the interface is just so overwhelming. Especially for a beginner in digital architecture software. Finding Maya so hard to understand, I developed my drawing skills instead and by now I just use the computer for creating plans, sections and detailing in AutoCad. Another reason for not incorporating the use of the computer in my design process, is that I generally enjoy the look of a drawn perspective more than a 3D rendered image. The only programs I do frequently turn to are the Adobe Creative Suite ones. I use Photoshop, Illustrator and Indesign to make my drawing just that little more presentable and neatly organise them for presentation posters. In Studio Air, however, I would like to make a new start with digital architecture and also explore how it can help me in designing buildings. What I mean by that is, that as of now, I only see the computer as a means to generate images of how my design would like AFTER I finish the design. And since I actually prefer the feel of hand drawings, I didn’t see the use of programs like Maya and Rhino for me personally. I am curious to learn how digital programs can help my smooth out my design process, lead to different design decisions, undiscovered possibilities and maybe even a wholly different design aesthetic.
So far I have completed 4 studios. The architectural design is key for each studio but every subject also focuses on related areas like urbanism and construction. Compared to the University of Melbourne, studio subjects are a little different in set-up. They are very intensive subjects in which you solely focus on working on your design for 8 weeks. Studio hours of 60 to 80 a week are not uncommon.
Design Studio 1: House and Settlement BRIEF The design of a little neighbourhood of 10 houses and the development of one of these houses including a studio and garden. Focus is the link of this dwelling to its new neighbourhood and a close relationship to public space, other parts of the city and the natural surroundings. Spatial design is aimed towards finding the right relation between program and context.
Design Studio 2: Building and Construction BRIEF The design of an exhibition centre on an artificial island used as a deposit of silt pollution. Focus is the handling/use of site specifications like smell, the absence of a direct connection to the mainland etc. The main structure, key details (window frames, joining of beams and columns etc.) and climate design is also to be designed and calculated for feasibility. Sustainability is important.
DESIGN I tried to incorporate the famous nearby dunes of the beach in both the urban and architectural design. The houses are randomly placed on the site, ensuring privacy. The house is open plan and is supposed to feel spacious and ‘exciting’ because of the different ‘objects’ protruding in and out of the main glass box and the bridge connecting these rooms.
DESIGN In this studio I came up with a design concept and tried to make it visible in all levels of detail. The building is to be a metaphor for the site it is on: an absolute shape which encloses a ‘dirty’, fluid substance. In the end I came up with 4 large concrete rectangular slabs on different levels in which an organic object was randomly placed and which formed the actual exhibition space.
Design Studio 3: City and Housing BRIEF The transformation of a former industry site to a residential area. Focus is the understanding of the relation between the ‘urban’ – morphology of the city – and the ‘architectural’ – typology of the residential buildings. The new area is to respond adequately to the varied characters of the adjacent neighbourhoods, to be easily accessible and to integrate different living environments with suitable building typologies. Sustainability is key.
Design Studio 4: Small Public Building BRIEF Design of an extension for the Faculty of Architecture in Delft which includes a library and lecture-hall. Focus is the ‘collision’ between a more functional and architectural approach to design. Building costs, managing aspects and the detailed and extensive desirable program are important in the design process and should be integrated with the ideas and wishes of the architect.
DESIGN The design focuses on a central axis which points in the direction of the famous landmarks of the older, inner city close by. Another key was the remaining of the old industrial buildings on the site and incorporate them in the plan by using them to divide different building typologies and living environments.
DESIGN Because the final design is an extension, I didn’t want to ‘undermine’ the existing building which is, I think, beautiful and quite majestic. Therefore I tried to design the new wing in the same kind of typology but just in a different execution. The final result is a large corridor in which the lecturehall and library are placed as objects with a different scale, form and material.
Of all the achievements of the most famous modernists of the twentieth century like Corbusier, Aalto and Frank Lloyd Wright, I like the Farnsworh House (1945-1951) by Mies van der Rohe the best. This house is a one-room weekend retreat of 140 m2 situated near the the city of Plano, Illinois, US on a private, secluded site. This design especially speaks to me because of its integration with nature. The glass walls spanning from floor to ceiling ensure a full view of the surrounding woods and the large and fragmented terrace leading up to the entrance makes for a less defined distinction between inside and out. The house also seems less invasive of the site because it is raised 1,5 m above the ground, making it seem even lighter and more airy. This is not for aesthetic alone, the house is situated on river banks which are occasionally flooded. I believe choosing to place the design here instead of on ‘safer ground’ higher up makes the house even more a part of the natural conditions of the surroundings. Another aspect I like is that the ‘weightlessness’ look of the outside of the house is continued inside by its open plan living. The kitchen and other utilies are situated in a core placed off-centre in the plan making the rest of the room a fluid space free to organize in any way one would like. The resulting flexibility and spaciousness is something I try to realise in my own designs too.
Something I really appreciate about this design by by Mies van der Rohe is its ‘honesty’ and ‘clarity’. What you see is what you get, less is more and the construction of 8 thin steel columns supporting the concrete floor and ceiling slabs is visible, practical but also part of the bigger concept. I think Farnsworth House is a interesting piece of architecture to consider when thinking about digital architecture. Obviously, being built almost 60 years ago, the house is designed by hand, without any help from computer software. And by looking at it, this seems very do- able; it looks simple. I think, however, to make a simple design like this look clean and beautiful, detailing like window frames, joining of beams etcera have to be extra carefully designed to not let them interfere with the bigger visual effect Using computer software to quickly try different variations for these kind of areas in the design might turn out to be quite helpful. You obviously don’t need a computer-generated 3D model to imagine how a raised, glass box would look like in real life. But because of the easy zooming in and out features of this kind of software, it seems to be a perfect way to see how little details like different window frames affect the appearance of the design as a whole. I don’t think architects should strive for complicated buildings just because it is possible to create them in computer software, but instead, these kind of programs can be used to perfect their designs on a smaller scale.
An architect I have only recently discovered but really admire the work of is the Glenn Murcutt. His design philosophy actually draws quite a bit of similarities with Mies van der Rohe’s. Both highly regard the relationship to nature and properties of the site and both are known for their influence on their homeland architectural culture (Australia and the US respectively). I think Murcutt takes the integration with nature-aspect even further than Mies van der Rohe, his main objective being “to touch the earth lightly”. Murcutt’s buildings are true examples of vernacular designs and incorporate Australian traditions, sustainable measures and natural resources where Mies van der Rohe is more famous for his use of glass and steel and the exploration of these new technologies. “A building should be able to open up and say, ‘I am alive and looking after my people,’ or instead, ‘I’m
closed now, and I’m looking after my people as well.’ This to me is the real issue, buildings should respond. They should open and close and modify and remodify, and blinds should turn and open and close, open a little bit without complication. That is a part of architecture for me; all this makes a building live.” One of the designs of Murcutt I really like, is the pritzker price winning Simpson-Lee House of 1989-1994. The residential building is found on Mt Wilson and works with the local environment while capturing majestic views of the surroundings. The house is oriented to face NE, sheltering from cold W/SW winds. The treatment of materials and construction techniques try to mimic the filtering of light through foliage, characteristic of the Australian bush. Elements like the louvred north face (completely restractable) emphasise the intimate relationship between buiding and landscape.
Water is collected from the roof and used for drinking water and to flush toilets. Excess water is stored in a reflecting pool which also serves as a water supply in case of bush fire (note, sprinklers are located on the roof, not in the building). Lighting and ventilation is easily controlled with the North-East wall which can be closed from view or completely opened. The blinds on the exterior of the house block the hot summer sun outside of the building envelope, so the heat never makes it into the house. Mies van der Rohe’s and Murcutt’s ‘clear’ architecture is something I am starting to appreciate more and more now I am getting bored with the flashy architecture which seems to be the norm of our time. I think this growing dislike is something interesting to explore in relation to me studying digital architecture. If one takes for example the work of Libeskind, Gehry and Zaha Hadid, I think their
designs are hugely depended on computer software. The kind of shapes they use, how they combine them, intersect them; it is so complex, you have to design these kind of buildings in 3D. They are hard to describe with just plans and sections. I am therefore curious how these kind of architects work; what is their design process like? How do their first sketches look? These are the kind of questions I ask myself and I like to see answered this semester in studying digital architecture. How do their first ideas relate to the final 3D digitally designed outcome? When and how did they switch from sketching the first outlines to modeling them on the computer? How do you start modelling and editing curves, surfaces and solids when they seem to be based on some random lines on paper? And what can the role of architecture design software be in my own design process which tries to steer away from these kind of shapes?
Besides the obvious advantages of using computer software in the design process like the exploration of new shapes, visualisation & presentation and smoothing out the design process (repetition, variations are easier and faster to create by pc than laptop), I believe the biggest oppurtunity of computational architecure is its role in designing sustainable architecture. Especially parametric design seems very useful in designing facades which can react on the outside conditions like wind, sun and humidity and so, regulate the inside climate of the building in a environment-friendly way. When the facade of a building, for example, becomes more open or closed according to the sun, this requires less air conditioning/heating which means lower energy bills. In other words, adaptive architecture.
There are already numerous examples designs across the world in which these weather responsive building skins are applied. A common example is the use of louvres adjustable according the amount of sun but other, more advanced techniques are also used. I think the Media-TIC building by Cloud 9 architects in Melbourne is an interesting example. The two facades who receive the most sun, are cladded with special EFTE components which can be inflated with air/nitrogen which create a shade effect/filter the sun like a cloud respectively and keep the heat outside of the building. Instead of adaptive architecture, computational architecture design can, for example, also be used to optimise material use and minimising waste and achieve sustainability this way.
Another example of computational architecure I appreciate, though part of another discourse entirely (non-euclidian geometry), is the Norwegian Wild Reindeer Centre Pavilion by Snohetta Oslo AS in 2011. The 90m2 building is located on the outskirts of Dovrefjell National Park, overlooking the Snøhetta mountain massif and serves as an observation pavilion. This unique natural, cultural and mythical landscape has formed the basis of the architectural idea. The building design is based on a rigid outer shell and an organic inner core. Considerable emphasis is put on the quality and durability of the materials to withstand the harsh climate. The rectangular frame is made in raw steel resembling the iron found in the local bedrock. What I think is interesting about this design in the digital discourse is its use of material and the
the production process. Wood is not the most obvious material to work with when designing curved (or even double-curved) surfaces and while wood has been used in multiple non-euclidian projects before (mostly in the form of plywood sheets), this design is build from pine timber beams. To be able to do so, not only the design itself is modelled with the help of computer software, also the fabrication process makes use of intensive software programming. Using digital 3D-models to drive the milling machines, local Norwegian shipbuilders created the organic shape from the beams. The wood was then assembled in a traditional way using only wood pegs as fasteners. This mix of modern techniques and local traditions makes the building, according to me quite interesting. A remark could be that this way of using wood in the design is quite wasteful.
In Mapungubwe, located on South Africa’s northern border with Botswana and Zimbabwe, Peter Rich has designed the 1,500 m2 Mapungubwe Interpretation Centre which includes spaces to tell the stories of the place and house artifacts, along with tourist facilities and SANParks offices. The complex is a collection of stone cladded vaults balancing on the sloped site, against the backdrop of Sandstone formations and mopane woodlands. The Mapungubwe Interpretive Center was realized using latest developments in structural geometry along with an ancient construction technique, in order to implement a contemporary design, meant to house hundreds of years old artifacts. The vaults have been designed using a 600 years old construction system to achieve a low economical and environmental impact. The traditional timbrel vaulting, using locally made pressed soil cement tiles, allows the design to be materialized with minimal formwork and no steel reinforcement. In addition, the ambition was to also integrate local unskilled labor into a poverty relief program by training them to produce the over 200,000 tiles necessary in the construction of the domes. The design of the vaults was done by using Thrust Network Analysis (TNA), a new graphical formfinding tool for exploring three-dimensional compression-only shapes. This new analysis/form-finding method has been introduced, developed and implemented by Philippe Block, under the guidance of Prof. John Ochsendorf, as part of his PhD dissertation at MIT. Thrust Network Analysis was originally developed to assess the safety of historic structures in unreinforced masonry, specifically for understanding and explaining the equilibrium of three-dimensional vaulted structures with complex geometries. TNA allows e.g. the exploration of different assumptions on how forces could be travelling through the structure or the incorporation of structural discontinuities such as cracks, while visualizing the internal forces in the system in a clear manner using comprehensible force diagrams. Thrust Network Analysis is most powerful for the design of compression-only structures, particularly for structures with self-weight as dominant loading which is the case for masonry structures. The method allows you to explore different force patterns, manipulate the internal distribution of forces by interactively tweaking the force diagrams and define and constrain the design spaces. All these levels of control result in a flexible form-finding method to explore new and exciting shapes for compression-only structures. By learning from the historic masterpieces in unreinforced masonry, this method now allows new possibilities for this honest and sustainable building material, stone.
The use of sophisticated, at times highly complex, wood joinery for load-bearing constructions, the kind that you still learn today as a carpentry apprentice, has declined in the last few decades. Such handwork was too expensive and so wooden elements began in most cases to be joined using steel nail plates. Recently, however, carpentry-oriented joinery has been enjoying a renaissance thanks to the increased use of CNC-driven manufacturing techniques – even connecting parts can be produced in a number of geometric variations and cost efficiently at that. An example of this movement are two students from the Kassel University who breathed new life into a one-hundred-year-old construction concept. The traditional reziprocal frame consists of short wooden joists, whose ends are carpentry-joined to a surface structure. With consistant types of profiles, lengths of elements and positions of the knots on the axises, a dome shape is created. The first documenting of such a framework, also called a „mandala roof“, dates back to the 12th century, according to the students’ research, when a Buddhist monk by the name of Chogen created designs for temples, whose influence can still be seen today in the architecture of domes in China and Japan. The variation of individual parameters, for instance changing the joint between two elements, leads to a change in all the other subsequent joins. Customising the length of battens and where they meet turns a static system into a variable one, allowing free geometric forms to be created. Having realised this, Mischa Proll and Andreas Günther developed a calculation principle, which allows the construction of almost randomly formed, highly stable surfaces – proportionally independent of the actual density of the system. The Kassel ‘selfsupportingframework’ demonstrates not only what computer-aided architecture can do in terms of design, but it also shows the applicability of wood as an renewable building material in the creation of highly complex geometric forms.