Melodie Yashar M.Arch Portfolio 2011-2014

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MELODIE YASHAR

Master of Architecture, 2014 Columbia University GSAPP



CONTENTS Sensory & Affectual Poetics 1 Urbanities, Rationally Developed 129 The Field & the Array 175 Building Technology 253 Texts 321



N

ot long ago I thought my lack of architectural training might prove a weakness. But I’ve since come to see that architecture, in many respects, is itself interdisciplinary. My work, both as an undergraduate and afterward, has repeatedly challenged and dealt with the confines of discipline. My trajectory of interests through areas of academia and design is the best testament to this fact. There is meaning to be made across the board, in all fields, and there is no reason to think that one should solve its own problems self-reflexively— safe and insulated from the threat of conceptual contamination and artistic cross-pollination. I’ve come to see that the concerns and challenges of architecture—as a discipline, a theoretical discourse, and a professional practice—are manifold and its approaches are pluralistic. For this I find no other field as exciting in the present moment. I know of no other profession to comprehensively tackle the various elements of a design problem with equal fearlessness, professional

responsibility and intellectual breadth; the architect is at once theorist, artist, scientist, businessperson, fabricator and innovator. In the following works, my hope is that the reader witness how the authorial and creative process is of utmost importance to me. In addition to completing a project with its traditional bearings and representative means (drawings, renderings, etc.), I hope the reader will see evidence for how I have claimed ownership of my ideas as my own, and negotiated their validity and relevance before committing to them; or alternatively, have accosted the innately paradoxical nature of the challenge I would inevitably juggle. If nothing else, I hope the reader might witness not only my interest in the built object, the architectural artifact, but in the methodology, the authoring process, and the decisions which the practice of architecture hinges upon—a continued process of self-diagnosis, critique and revision—the beginnings of which are documented in what follows.




AND AFFE P O ET I CS


S E N SO RY ECT UA L


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SENSORY AND AFFECTUAL POETICS

T

he notion of a poetics of space sets language to architecture, and grants it the freedom to author the text of its own origins. Guided by instinctual and perhaps involuntary impulses, poetics manage to devise not a solution to a design problem, but introduces a system of aggregated micro-responses. Poetics strives to brush the surface of what we might refer to as the intangible quality of sensuous images.

A

t the core of sense and affect is the truth and authenticity of lived experience. The unique and intricate specificities of sensory perception, retention, and affectual response are (in the true manner of the paradoxical) the most-subjectively felt phenomenon per the individual, and yet seem to introduce critical responses which quite transparently, without a hint of ambiguity, validate or invalidate an investigative strain of architecture. In a poetics of affect, there is nothing more real than the sensorial phenomenon we inhabit, mediate and feel a connection with.

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ADVANCED STUDIO VI

EXTRUDED LUMINANCE, PART I LANGUAGE, STRUCTURE & LIGHT Studio Critic Steven Holl Dimitra Tschariella Date Spring 2014 Collaboration Martin Lodman

In the first iteration of “Extruded Light, Extruded Structure,” an analysis of James Stirling’s Leicester University, Department of Engineering Building (1963) served as a precedent for the implementation of a volumetric language and composition of forms. Of particular note were the extruded glass prisms composing the roof of the engineering school’s workshop areas, an open plan area intended for collaboration and mixed use among the university’s departments. The prisms, not perfectly square extrusions, are oriented specifically for optimal northern light, but the repetition of forms so unique to Stirling presented interesting implications for the quality of light on the interior. Zaha Hadid’s MAXXI Museum of Contemporary Arts served as a project precedent for its intensely curated and striking quality of light on the interior of the building. The stylistic and aesthetic qualities of Stirling and Hadid’s architecture could not (at first glance) be more diametrically opposed. A central tenet of the studio was the conception and implementation of a newly crafted architectural language of form, which could simultaneously address and acknowledge the lineage of the precedent studies, but also formulate new syntactical arrangements of architecture—it would adopt the language of the precedents in order to subtly transform, apply, or depart from their underlying architectural language.

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The minimal volumetric language in Stirling’s Leicester University project became an instigator for a series of studies on volume, mass and the interplay of light and shadow. Stirling’s assemblage of forms integrates a massing strategy with a structural understanding of his assembled volumes, and the integration of volume and structure became a primary emphasis for our project. Here, transparency signifies absence—and is only activated by the presence of the other, a reflection or refraction, the indication of a visitor, or the environment, a landscape—it is mutually interdependent to not only the architecture but to the conditions which construct our perception of the space, and our orientation and perspective within it. Despite this ‘absence’, light as a material activates the transparency of the glass prisms, occupies it, and reifies what is essentially a volumetric condition. Through projected light we are able to capitalize and construct relationships of solid and void, which simultaneously obscure and enrich the qualities inherent in the glass transparency. Our light studies examined the relationship of line to volume, obscuring assumed qualities of flatness and depth, and reifying the dynamism and perceptually dependent qualities of the projection (imposed artificial light).


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ADVANCED STUDIO V I

EXTRUDED LUMINANCE, PART II AN EXPERIMENTAL ARTS VENUE Studio Critic Steven Holl Dimitra Tschariella Date Spring 2014 Site Universidad Nacional Bogota, Colombia Program Arts & Research Institute Collaboration Martin Lodman

The final iteration of “Extruded Light, Extruded Structure” presents a series of programmatic extrusions that extend to the boundaries of its site—the Universidad Nacional in Bogota, Colombia—connecting multiple axes of the campus to the project’s central core, an experimental media arts and projection studio. The outer forms of the structure emanate from the central core and demonstrate the language of conceptual (which is to say dynamic) and geometric (formally monumental and fixed) extruded form. In a state of frozen dissonance these protruding elements function as vectors with independent trajectories, expressing Corbusian rectilinearity and directional movement. While the outer programmatic spaces represent protrusion through space, the core demonstrates an interior condition that subverts the expectation for knotted volumetric mess—rather than functioning as a point of intersection or confrontation, the core is a space of openness and fluidity—its materiality and figural presence is that of light and air. The core is composed of self-enveloping tectonic shells; they wrap and adjoin into a state of structural equilibrium, forming the

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stunning simplicity of a cube. Rather than revealing the origins of the outer extruded forms within the cube’s interior, the core reverses the expectation that the extrusions would meet one another on the inside by rendering extruded light as voided space. Cutting short the volumetric linearity of the extrusions, the cube subverts the anticipation for an Inside-outside dichotomy by presenting a spatial condition that is neither volumetric nor linear. In this implosion of presence (extruded form) and absence (enveloping voids), the central atrium of the media arts and projection studio light becomes the principal material of transformation. The core receives programmatic flow from the extended arms of the structure, directing visitors of the institution (users as diverse as students, administrative staff, institutional faculty, as well as the general public) to a shared space of visionary artistic thinking and practice. Circulation within the core is dependent upon intimate yet brilliant mezzanine levels designed to shred the luminosity of the space. The plates dissolve the harsh volumetric nature of the outer extrusions into a delicate play of light and alternating form.


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SOCIAL

FORUM 2000 SF

AUDITORIUM 1 3000 SF

GALLERY 2700 SF

CAFE 2400 SF

AUDITORIUM 2 4000 SF

GREEN ROOM 800 SF

COLLABORATIVE ROOMS 1000 SF EACH

INTERFACULTY

31

RESEARCH/ SEMINAR ROOMS 600 SF EACH

PRESENTATION/ CONFERENCE ROOMS 650 SF EACH

TUTORIAL / CLASS ROOMS 1300 SF EACH

INDIVIDUAL STUDY AREA 2200 SF

COMPUTER LABS 1200 SF

ADMIN / STAFF OFFICES 110 SF EACH


EXTRUSION TYPOLOGY

SERRA

MONDRIAN

ZAHA

ESCALATION

EXPANDED EXTRUSION

STAIR

ZAHA 4-SIDES

CROSS-CUT

INSCRIBED CIRCLE

COPPER

SIZE

MATERIALITY / FINISH

HORIZONTAL

VERTICAL

PLATE AS SWITCH / THRESHOLD AS SWITCH

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STAGE

A

E

B

C

F

D

ACCESS TO SCULPTURE PARK

KEY A AUDITORIUM B CAFE C EXHIBITIONS D MEDIA & EQUIPMENT ROOM

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E

EXPERIMENTAL ARTS & MEDIA CENTER

F

ADMINISTRATION / OFFICES


A

C D

B

KEY A BALCONY B

EXHIBITION MEZZANINE

C

EXPERIMENTAL ARTS & MEDIA CENTER

D

ACCESS TO PUBLIC EVENTS / PERFORMANCE AREA

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B C

A

D

KEY A CLASSROOMS & STUDY AREA B STUDENT STUDIO

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C

EVENT SPACE / PERFORMANCE AREA

D

RESEARCH & COLLABORATIVE ROOMS


A

B KEY A CLASSROOMS & STUDY AREA B RESEARCH & COLLABORATIVE ROOMS

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From “ T he Phenomenon of P lace” Architectural Association Quarterly 8, no. 4. Christian Norberg-Schulz 1976

T

he concomprehensive crete things phenomenon. In which congeneral we may stitute our given say that some world are inter- phenomena form related in com- an “environment” plex and perhaps to others. A concontradictory crete term for ways. Some of environment is the phenomena place. It is commay for instance mon usage co comprise others. say that acts and The forest con- occurrences take sists of trees, place. In fact it and the town is meaningless is made up of to imagine any houses. “Landhappening withscape” is such a

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out reference to a locality. Place is evidently an integral part of existence. What, then, do we mean with the word “place?” Obviously we mean something more than abstract location. We mean a totality made up of concrete things having material substance, shape, texture, and colour. Together these things determine an “environmen-

tal character,” which is the essence of place. In general a place is given as such a character or “atmosphere.” A place is therefore a qualitative, “total” phenomenon, which we cannot reduce to any of its properties, such as spatial relationships, without losing its concrete nature out of sight. Everyday experience moreover tells us that different actions

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need different environments to take place in a satisfactory way. As a consequence, towns and houses consist of a multitude of particular places. This fact is of course taken into consideration by current theory of planning and architecture, but so far the problem has been treated in a too abstract way. “Taking place” is usually under-

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stood in a quantitative, “functional” sense, with implications such as spatial distribution and dimensioning. Bur arc not “functions” inter-human and similar everywhere? Evidently not. “Similar” functions, even the most basic ones such as sleeping and eating, take place in very different ways, and demand places with different properties, in ac-


cordance with different cultural traditions and different environmental conditions. The functional approach therefore left out the place as a concrete “here” having its particular identity.

ple science “abstracts” from the given to arrive at neutral, “objective” knowledge. What is lost, however, is the everyday life-world, which ought to be the real concern of man in general and planners and archieing qualitatects in particutive totalities lar. Fortunately of a complex na- a way out of the ture, places canimpasse exists, not be described that is, the methby means of anod known as alytic, “scientific” phenomenology. concepts. As a Phenomenology matter of princiwas conceived

B

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as a “return to contain any dithings,” as oprect reference to posed to abstracarchitecture. A tions and mental phenomenology constructions. of architecture So far phenomis therefore urenologists have gently needed. been mainly concerned with ome of the ontology, psyphilosophers chology, ethics, who have apand to some exproached this tent aesthetics, problem of our and have given life-world, have relatively little used language attention to the and literature as phenomenology sources of “inforof the daily envimation.” Poetry ronment. A few in fact is able to pioneer works concretize those however exist totalities which bur they hardly elude science,

S

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and may therefore suggest how we might proceed to obtain the needed understanding.

O

ur introductory remarks give several indications about the structure of places. A final and particularly important step is taken with the concept of “character.” Character is determined by how things arc, and gives our investigation a

basis in the concrete phenomena of our everyday life-world. Only in this way we may fully grasp the genius loci; the “spirit of place” which the ancients recognized as that “opposite” man has to come to terms with, to be able to dwell. The concept of genius loci denotes the essence of place.

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From “Hearing Spaces: Architecture and Acoustic Experience in Modernist German Literature.” Modernism / Modernity Volume 17, No. 4, pp 799-818. Johns Hopkins UP. Kata Gellen 2011

W

ell before the great nineteenth-century scientist Hermann von Helmholtz (1821–1894) published On

the Sensations of Tone

(1860), a groundbreaking work on the physical and physiological basis of musical effects, ac-

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ousticians had proven that the perception of sound requires a medium. Whether conceived as particles or waves, sound is material, and thus must be borne by a physical element, such as air or water. Helmholtz radicalized


this point in the opening pages of his work: since a stimulus causes particles of air (Lufttheilchen) to vibrate, and those vibrations produce a sensation in our ears (a musical tone or noise), the individual particles of air are themselves what we call sound. The medium is literally the message. The study of

physical acoustics, which would later come to include architectural acoustics, deals with the external space in which acts of hearing take place, as opposed to physiological acoustics, which is concerned more intimately with the ear and the nerve sensations it receives, and psychological acoustics, which examines the men-

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tal process of transforming an auditory sensation into an image or concept. The medium connects the vibrating body and the ear, and the mind transforms these auditory sensations (Gehรถrempfindungen) into perceptions (Vorstellungen). To ignore the space of hearing is to ignore the sounds themselves, since they are

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not only conditioned by, but consist in the space in which they are heard.

T

he process of generating sounds involves the subtle alteration of spatial composition; these transformations are what we perceive when we hear. Such slight changes to spatial configuration are invisible and usually


intangible— though certain loud and deep sounds, such as a bass line, can generate palpable vibrations in the whole body—but they are sensible to the ear. At a limit, audition could be defined as the perception of otherwise insensible transformations of space. On the Sensations of Tone was essential to scientific and musical re-

search on sense perception, not least because it was one of the earliest treatises on sound and space. Helmholtz also broke ground by trying to establish the scientific principles behind possibly the most abstract form of art, music. In this too he must be considered a precursor to Sabine, who designed Boston’s celebrated Symphony Hall,

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which opened in 1900. This was the first building designed according to acoustical laws and with the help of mathematical formulas for such phenomena as reverberation and the transmission of sound through walls (SM, 4, 13– 57). If for Sabine the shape, size, and material of building were of paramount concern, for Helmholtz it

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was above all human physiology that determined auditory processes. Together, their work can be understood to stand for a thorough reimagining of the relationship between sound and space—both bodily and architectural—in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.


H

elmholtz’s work on acoustics immediately preceded the invention of numerous electro-acoustic devices, such as the loudspeaker (Siemens, 1874), the telephone (Bell, 1876) and the phonograph (Edison, 1877), and Sabine’s work coincided with the rise of radio broadcasting (c. 1920) and the invention of

sound film (mid1920s), not to mention the widespread use of the devices invented at the end of the previous century. People were experiencing sound in radically new ways at a time when the scientific, musical, and architectural discourses of sound were redefining the way it was conceived—most broadly and pervasively, in its

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relationship to space. In modernity, then, sound became space. Whether one calls space a context, a medium, a channel or a circuit, the point remains the same: sound without space is not only inaudible, it is unthinkable.

T

he aim of this essay is to explore the literary implications

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of this linking of sound and space in modernity. By examining works by three major German modernist authors—Robert Musil, Rainer Maria Rilke, and Franz Kafka—this essay will first of all demonstrate the interconnected discourses of sound and space in their texts. In their works hearing defines or is defined by the physical structures in which


it takes place. Whether architecture or the ear occupies the position of mastery is an open question: sound can appear as a product of architectural space, or it can reveal or even generate that space. It is not, however, the case that Kafka, Musil, and Rilke learned the lessons of modern acoustical research and in-

corporated them into their writing in the hopes of achieving a new kind of scientific realism. To claim this would be to underestimate their radical attempts to reinterpret human sensation through aesthetic means, and to overestimate their scientific knowledge. Still, their techniques of representation align so neatly with scientific notions of

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the spatial constitution of auditory experience, that some explanation of this parallel discovery in science and art is required. How is it that modern physics and modernist literature both arrived at the conclusion that when we hear, we hear space? This essay aims to specify this link in order to demonstrate how these writers engaged the question

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of acoustic experience in modernity—and, in particular, in the spaces of modernity. Moreover, it seeks to uncover a logic of sensory experience, derived from the relationship of sound and space, that informs a significant strand of modernist writing. Kafka, Rilke, and Musil collectively develop a theory of literary pro-


duction based on sensory imbalance: the condition of possibility of writing is a deficit or excess of perceptual stimuli, often in the auditory realm. Inadequate and unsuccessful acts of hearing, the consequence of listening in enclosed spaces, generate problems for figural representation and narrative development.

The thin walls, flimsy doors, and porous concrete buildings of modernity and modernism transmit either a jarring acoustic mĂŠlange or an isolated indecipherable tone. Consequently, these authors are forced to write against such noises: to explain, rationalize, silence, or aestheticize them. Musil, Rilke, and Kafka do not re-

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solve the problem of noise, but find ways to represent it through a spatialized discourse of sound.

T

his essay is part of a growing trend to revaluate noise: rather than view it as a disruption, a distraction, and a disturbance, scholars from a variety of disciplines have come to see noise as a highly productive, if

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not entirely positive, force. This trend began in the late 1970s with such works as Jacques Attali’s Noise (1977) and Michel Serres’s The Parasite (1980). Challenging the conventional opposition of music and noise, Attali argued that music is nothing more than the organization of noise; both acoustic phenomena


should be considered as markers and predictors of social and political life. To ignore or suppress noise is to be blind— or deaf—to the economy of power it both reflects and governs. In a related move, Serres sought to overturn the signal-noise dichotomy upon which theories of communication are generally based. The goal

of communication cannot be the elimination of noise, since this would require dissolving the medium or channel through which messages are sent and with it the very act of communication.

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ADVANCED STUDIO V

SOUND SPACE

AN INSTITUTE OF SPATIAL PERCEPTION Studio Critic Marc Tsurumaki Date Fall 2013 Site Flatiron District, New York City Program Arts & Research Institute

Aural Arts & Research Institute Sound Space, a center for aural arts and perception, demonstrates an architecture committed to enabling meaningful listening. In striving to answer the question of whether there is (or what the limits are) of objective, communicative potential in noise, sound and music, the institution explores sound as a mechanism for spatial perception. The primary research agenda is to encourage the development of auditory-spatial awareness as a skill, a sensory tool, and then heightening that awareness through a series of aural and sonic experiments. The institution strives to recognize or suggest a difference between noise and sound, particularly in everyday contexts, and how an enhanced or evolved understanding of ambient noise can impact how we actively listen—and ultimately enhance our spatial awareness and understanding. Space & Sonic Experience Aural experiences of space and architecture are fleeting, and we lack a means or an appreciation for sharing the experiential dimension of our collective responses (emotional, affective, neurological, sensory, etc.) particularly in regards to the communal and shared significance or impact of these experiences. The language for describing sound

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(let alone noise) is weak and inadequate, and there is little value or appreciation implicit in the art of auditory spatial perception. New York: The Public Soundscape The city itself is the host of an unmistakable Soundscape with public and proprietary sonic arenas that inflect and occasionally appropriate one another. The institution must therefore address the Soundscape of the city and what would otherwise be considered ‘noise pollution’ as either a desirable asset (a perceptual result of listening closely), or whether environmental sound is regulated, selectively curated, or ignored altogether. More broadly the research agenda of the institution is intended to test and experiment with the notion of an explicit semiology of sound, and question how (or whether?) sound and ultimately music may be evaluated from a semantic perspective. The intention is to evaluate the communicative potential of noise (particularly within the urban environment), to quantify its communicative ability in terms of mood and affect, then through fMRI visualizations and neuro-scientific methods validate how we (culturally, anthropologically, and societally) register and interpret what we hear.


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SONIC EVENT WALKING, FOOTSTEPS

SONIC PERCEPTION HEARING OUR OWN FOOTSTEPS IN AN ECHO

INTENSITY AREA OF THE WALL

E RE ANC D IS T Y B E F O A DEL

AR THE

R IVA

L OF

THE

ECH

O

FREQUENCY INDEX MATERIAL OF THE WALL

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4' 6"

277.18

233.08 207.65

164.81

174.61

196.00

220.00

246.94

261.63

B

185.00

146.83

A

155.56

G

138.59 123.47

130.81

110.00

F

116.54 97.999

E

103.83 87.307

D

92.499

C

27.500

30.863

32.703

35.708

41.203

43.654

48.999

55.000

61.735

65.406

82.417

C 73.416

B B

77.782 69.269

58.270

A B

G A

F G

E F

D E

C D C A

9'

18' 51.913 46.249

38.891 34.648

29.135

250

200

160

125

100

80

63

50

40

31.5

224

178

141

11.2

89.1

70.8

56.2

44.7

35.5

28.2

250 Hz

125 Hz

63 Hz

31.5 Hz

20 Hz

79

16 Hz

FREQUENCY (Hz)

36'

71'

MODAL FREQUENCY IN PHYSICAL SPACE

VOWELS

HEARING RANGE

BASS


3 3/8"

6 3/4"

3729.3 3322.4 290.0

2489.0 2217.5

1864.7 1661.2 1480.0

1244.5 1108.7

B

C

D

E

F

G

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

A

B

587.33

659.26

698.46

783.99

880.00

987.77

1046.5

1174.7

1318.5

1396.9

1568.0

1760.0

1975.5

2093.0

2349.3

2637.0

2793.0

3136.0

3520.0

3951.1

B

932.33 A A

ALTO TENOR

830.61

G G

739.99 F F

293.66

329.63

349.23

392.00

440.00

493.88

523.25

E E

622.25 554.37

466.16 415.30 369.99

311.13

D C D

1' 1 1/2"

2' 3"

CONVERSATIONAL SPEECH

SOPRANO

CONSONANTS

BASS

BARITONE

4000

3150

2500

2000

1600

1250

1000

800

630

500

400

315

3548

2818

2239

1778

1413

1122

891

708

562

447

355

282

TREBLE MID-RANGE

8K Hz

4K Hz

2K Hz

1K Hz

500 Hz

80

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PROGRAMMATIC TYPOLOGIES

core & satellite rooms open plan

loop linear chain

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THE ACOUSTIC ENVIORNMENT

TIME THE ACOUSTIC ENVIORNMENT

PARTICLE MOVEMENT THE ACOUSTIC ENVIORNMENT

PRESSURE

1 SECOND

+

4 Hz

TIME

0 TIME

-THE ACOUSTIC ENVIORNMENT

TIME

PARTICLE MOVEMENT

1 Hz

FREQUENCIES 1 SECOND

TIME

S

PRESSURE PRESSURE

PARTICLE MOVEMENT

+ 0 + 0

4 Hz

1 SECOND 4 Hz TIME 1 Hz

FREQUENCIES

TIME

-

PARTICLE MOVEMENT

1 Hz

PRESSURE

1 SECOND

+ 0

S TIME

1 Hz

83

FREQUENCIES

FREQUENCIES

4 Hz

S


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SOUND DISSEMINATION BY ROOM TYPE

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SONIC TYPOLOGIES

MODAL ROOM FREQUENCIES / COLORATION

DIFFUSION

ORIGINAL WAVE

100

+ ACOUSTIC PRESSURE

REFLECTING WALLS

REFLECTED WAVE

AXIAL ROOM MODE

TANGENTIAL ROOM MODE

OBLIQUE ROOM MODE

100

0 100

-100 0

-100

-

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0

0

FLUTTER ECHO

0

0

-100

ANECHOIC


PHENOMENOLOGY OF AURAL EXPERIENCE EMOTION & AFFECT

LISTENING

PERCEPTION

THE RAW SENSATION COGNITIVE,

COMMUNICATION

PSYCHOLOGICAL INVOLVEMENT?

physical acoustics architectural acoustics

aural aesthetics

sensory sociology sensory anthropology

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89


100

0

-100

0

0

-100

100

0 100

0 -100

0

B_DIFFUSION + 73

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ORIGINAL WAVE

REFLECTING WALLS

ACOUSTIC PRESSURE

+

-

REFLECTED WAVE

AXIAL ROOM MODE

TANGENTIAL ROOM MODE

OBLIQUE ROOM MODE

A_MODAL ROOM FREQUENCIES / COLORATION + 37

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D_ANECHOIC + 127

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C_FLUTTER ECHO + 100

93


A_MODAL ROOM FREQUENCIES / COLORATION + 37

+ 00

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Research Concentrations Brain Localization Representations of spoken and musical sounds do not occupy the same regions of the auditory cortex. Linguistic Sound Systems The creation of a language-specific framework for sound perception phonetics: the science of speech sounds, the acoustic structure of speech. Signification & Meaning Sound and verbal description or association. Sound Sequences Pitch intervals as learned sound categories in Western music. Pitch variation and emotion. Sound Timbre Evaluating sound quality when pitch, loudness, and duration are identical. The temporal and spectral profile of a sound.

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A_MODAL ROOM FREQUENCIES / COLORATION

INTERFERENECE

99

SOUND TYPOLOGY


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100


D_ANECHOIC

C_FLUTTER ECHO

B_DIFFUSION

101


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102


103


1’ = 3/32”

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ADVANCED STUDIO IV

MAPPING THE HUMAN BRAIN

A NEUROLOGICAL CENTER IN M.E.O. Studio Critic Michael Morris Kelsey Lents Date Spring 2013 Site Medium Earth Orbit Program Space Station Catered to Human Health & Well-Being

One Hundred Billion Neurons Just this past year President Obama and the European Union have each proposed efforts to map the brain’s activity in unprecedented detail; Obama asked Congress to spend $100 million next year to start a project that will explore details of the brain, which contains 100 billion cells and trillions of connections. The project is a space station in geostationary orbit dedicated as a research and client-based service assisting in efforts to map the human brain. At the micro-cellular scale, understanding the brain’s neurological structure has proven problematic. It is simply an issue of data collection, and organizing information within a real-time digital model of unprecedented scale and proportion. But does it have to be virtual? My proposition is that space is large enough, and therefore, an appropriate global venue for a 3-dimensional, tangible, perceivable, and internationally conceived working model of the human brain to exist. The Neuron-Satellite The basic principle of the human brain mapping initiative is for satellite constellations to map the geographic architecture and connectivity of the brain. Attached to the space station via

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space tether, the space station is the root of a network of small, micro-electric satellites, each representative of a single neuron within the brain, and responsible for communicating all data generated on the neuron back to earth. As years progress into decades, the project will eventually host constellations of satellites representative of the neural connectivity of the brain’s functional lobes, and more generally the sum of research generated on the human brain. Structure & Installation The mechanism for the installation of the neural networks is for each client (a space tourist) to the space station to be responsible for the installation of neuron-satellites in space via a space pod - a pneumatic fuel-propelled vessel surrounding the periphery of the space station. The structure is a dynamically updated representation of the brain’s neurological makeup, constantly updated and expanding according to the research findings of the neurological institution, as well as the functional MRI imaging scans constantly undergone by the clients and inhabitants of the space station.


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Composite Floor Panels

Flourescent Lights only (GLA) Sleep Wall Utility Wall

Back Wall

Bump Out (detached)

chest breadth hip breadth

Interior walls covered with acoustic blankets (Gore-tex)

.09 m3 of personal items,

generally stowed at the bottom of CQ to maximize head and armroom

me

UHMWPE (Polyethelene) Panels for Radiation Protection

, all, usedfor moutning a light, computer workstation, etc. d to follow the module hull ks and loops. Has 2 speaker boxes for alarms

Aluminum Rack Exoskeleton

at lived on the ISS include requests for an improved living ity of use - the ability to tailor the layout and use of their

Composite Utility Wall (Computer and personal items) CREW QUARTERS

CQ envelope: limited to a standard rack volume 1) Sleep Wall: designated as sleeping /resting, 2) Utility wall: directly across from the sleep wall, usedfor moutning a light, computer workstation, etc. 3) Back wall: (opposite the entrance) is curved to follow the module hull Provides stowage with bungees, hooks and loops. Has 2 speakerFloor boxesPanels for alarms Composite Finally feedback from the expedition crews that lived on the ISS include requests for an improved living environment; and more importantly, for flexibility of use - the ability to tailor the layout and use of their private environment

Flourescent Lights only (GLA) Sleep Wall Utility Wall

Back Wall

Bump Out (detached)

chest breadth hip breadth

Interior walls covered with acoustic blankets (Gore-tex)

.09 m3 of personal items,

generally stowed at the bottom of CQ to maximize head and armroom

upper torso vs. lower body space; flexibility and access

2.1 m3 of interior volume 107

chest breadth hip breadth

.09 m3 of personal items,

generally stowed at the bottom of CQ to maximize head and armroom


Quadrant / four-post arrangement of the ISS pressurized elements

Quadrant / four-post arrangement of the ISS pressurized elements

FOUR-STANDOFF CONCEPT

INTEGRATION STRUCTURE

OVERHEAD

FORWARD

AFT

INTEGRATION STRUCTURE EQUIPMENT VOLUME LIMITATIONS

OVERHEAD

FORWARD

FOUR-STANDOFF CONCEPT RACKS (ISPR - International Standard Payload Racks

AFT

RACKS (ISPR - International Standard Payload Racks

DECK

EQUIPMENT VOLUME LIMITATIONS COMMON MODULE ECSS, POWER, DATA MANAGEMENT RUNS

DECK

COMMON MODULE ECSS, POWER, DATA MANAGEMENT RUNS

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Architecture of the Brain Principle of the Localization of Function in the Brain’s Functional Lobes

FRONTAL LOBE (L) Linguistic: Speaking, Reading, Writing Motor Elaboration

FRONTAL LOBE (R) Nonverbal: Music, Art, Face, Pattern & Melody Recognition

Logical Analysis: Analytical, Step-by-step Processing, Sequencing, Memory for habits & Motor Activities

Synthetic Analysis: Holistic Problem Solving ,Control of Emotional Response, Expressive Language TEMPORAL LOBE (R) Smelling, Memory Acquistion, Recognizing Faces, Visual Memory, Sense of Identity, Behavior & Emotions Including Fear

TEMPORAL LOBE (L) Hearing, Perceptual Judgment, Auditory Association Categorization of Objects, Intellect

parietaL LOBE (R) Integration of Senses Allowing for Understanding a Single Concept

parietaL LOBE (L) Visual Attention, Touch Perception, Manipulation of Objects

CEREBELLUM Coordination of Movement, Posture, Balance OCCIPITIAL LOBES Vision, Visual Association BRAIN STEM Breathing, Heart Rate, Swallowing, Sweating, Blood Pressure, Level of Alertness, Ability to Sleep, Sense of Balance

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Projected Phases for Installation of the Tethered Neuron-Satellite Network Phase I Installation by Think-Space Pod A micro-electric ‘neuron’ satellite is installed by a client from his or her think-space pod via robotic arms and rocket propulsion. Phase II Tether Networks and Tether Meshes Constellations of neuron-satellites are installed simultaneously. Instead of rigid tethers they are flexible to be easily networked with other bundles. Phase III Electrodynamic Tethers Conductive tethers carry a current generating thrust or drag from a planetary magnetic field. Eventually these could be used to propel the station, reducing overall energy consumption.

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U R BA N I T I E R AT I O N D E


ES, N A L LY E V E LO P E D


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URBANITIES, RATIONALLY DEVELOPED

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ccasionally, we may fool ourselves into thinking that urban space is designed exclusively with the best-interests of the end-user in mind. But the values informing architectural decisionmaking are rarely so even-handed; a delicate balance exists between being guided by a sense of social conscience, realizing a project allotted finite time and means, and pursuing a singular architectural vision.

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rchitectural construction is an intensely resource- and cost-intensive operation; being tied to the building and fabrication industries, architecture is inherently interwoven in the ebb and flow of the global economic market, and the predicated schemes of capitalist enterprises. It is within this discourse that the “risks” of an architectural investment overshadow the transformative potential of design; conceptual ambitions demand legitimization according to an objective measure of anticipated gains (profit) from a given investment. What ensues is an architecture of intense and forthright pragmatism—a ruthless implementation of rational and deductive logics.

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hose vision leaves the most lasting mark on contemporary society—the architect, or the developer? Need there be this harsh distinction between the two roles; need they be oppositional? Who, numerically-speaking, will build more buildings in the future? Whose idea of our future cities will most likely become an impressionable reality?

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CORE STUDIO I I I

HARLEM HOUSING

A MEDICAL MANUFACTURING FACILITY Studio Critic Douglas Gauthier Date Fall 2012 Site 131st Street & Park, New York NY Program Public Housing Collaboration Della Krantz

At the core of prosperity within a low-income community is the question of its economic sustainability; this was the conflict addressed by the proposition for a live-work manufacturing facility in Harlem. There are currently 16,000 individuals employed by the health care industry in East Harlem. Surrounded by many major hospitals such as Harlem Hospital, Columbia Presbyterian, Mt. Sinai, the Bronx Veterans Hospital, as well as many independent research and rehabilitation centers, East Harlem is entangled in the medical industry by virtue of its location and infrastructure. Proposal of M15-R8 We adopted M15-R8 mixed use zoning from the Bronx in order to instigate a wave of subsequent diversified zoning projects within the neighborhood, and effectively activate the future activities of the neighborhood. The diversified zoning program creates a network of associated programs and institutions that would enable people to not only have a home but be employed by the larger health care network and the research organizations that drive innovation in the field. Our zoning proposal entails that the present mixed-use manufacturing district in Mott Haven across the river to our site be adapted

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to create a diversified live-work community for medical manufacturing. By introducing mixed zoning to our site, M15-R3, our program is diversified to include residences, manufacturing, labs, and public space. Medical / Soft-Manufacturing Facility The medical manufacturing facility provides economic and social opportunities for employees in a way that transcends the traditional notion of a low income housing project as a ‘gift.’ Instead we are providing the means for the development of new economic opportunities and intra-personal experiences for residents and people of the community. With manufacturing being the organizational and programmatic core of the institution, 289 convertible single to double-height units surround the periphery of the building. The combination of research, manufacturing, and implementation with the Harlem medical network creates a sustainable microeconomy that transforms the institution into an incubator for innovation for the healthcare community. Our project focuses on the potential for housing to function as a live-work community that stimulates the East Harlem neighborhood both socially and economically.


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MINIMUM SQUARE FOOTAGE: M15-R8

MAXIMUM SQUARE FOOTAGE: M15-R8 RESIDENTAL: 364,079 SF

RESIDENTAL: 200,000 SF

COMMERCIAL / MANUFACTURING: 302,375 SF

MANUFACTURING: 200,000 SF

COMMUNITY (LABS): 393,087 SF

COMMUNITY (LABS): 200,000 SF

R8 HEIGHT FACTOR

COMMERCIAL: 50,000 SF

R8 COMMUNITY FACILITY

R8 HEIGHT FACTOR

TOWER IN THE PARK

DUAL PROGRAM

R8 HEIGHT FACTOR

DUAL PROGRAM

INTERDISCIPLINARY

R8 COMMUNITY FACILITY

ORIGINAL ZONING OPTIONS

R8 M1-2 - M2-1 COMMERCIAL M3-1 R8 COMMUNITY FACILITY

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R8 QUALITY HOUSING

R8 QUALITY HOUSING


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The Framework of a New Institutional Model Elements Housing Manufacturing Lab Structure Members: Lab Coordinators: Hire Manufacturers: Build Hospital Intermediaries Non-Residents Functional Model of Sustained Earning & Sustained Living

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COMMUNITY SPACE

COMMERCIAL SPACE

RESIDENCES

LIVE-WORK

recruiters / leasers

COORDINATORS

TECHIES

LABORERS

OFFICES

MANUFACURING STUDIO/ TECHNOLOGY DRIVEN RESEARCH

TRANSPORT & DELIVERY

LAB / RESEARCH STUDIO STRUCTURE

COMMUNITY SPACE

COMMERCIAL SPACE

HOSPITAL NETWORK

RESIDENCES

INTERSTITIAL SPACES: MOMENTS OF INTERACTION

LAB COORDINATORS

RESEARCHERS / DESIGN-BUILD TECHIES

HOSPITAL - LAB INTERMEDIARIES

MANUFACTURERS, BUILDERS

LIVE-WORK

PROJECT TIMELINE TIMEFRAME: WEEKS - YEARS RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT: PROJECT INITIATED, RELEVANT PARTIES HIRED

RESEARCH NEEDS & WANTS OF THE MEDICAL FIELD / PROFESSION RELATING TO THE TOPIC

IDEAS FOR SCOPE OF PROJECT: REPAIRED / RESTORED MACHINERY, NEWTECHNOLOGICAL PROTOTYPE, NEW BIOCHEM TECHNOLOGY AND COMMUNICATIONS SYSTEMS

DESIGN DEVELOPMENT

PROTOTYPE TESTING, PRODUCED REVIEW STUDIO/ TECHNOLOGY

DRIVEN RESEARCH

OFFICES

REVISIONS, REDESIGN

MANUFACURING

CORRESPONDENCE WITH HOSPITALS BEGINS

TRAINING AND PREPARATION FOR MANUFACTURING

MANUFACTURING

IMPLEMENTATION WITHIN HOSPITALS, MANUFACTURING OR EXPORT TO CONTINUES ALTERNATE FACILITIES

LAB / RESEARCH STUDIO STRUCTURE

TRANSPORT & DELIVERY

HOSPITAL NETWORK

user experiences:

program & CIRCULATION robotics

prosthetics LAB COORDINATORS / recruiters / leasers

HOSPITAL - LAB INTERMEDIARIES / COORDINATORS

testing / lab work

RESEARCHERS / DESIGN-BUILD TECHIES

MANUFACTURERS,

biochemistry BUILDERS,

radiology

LABORERS

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BORROWING FROM THE BRONX: M15-R8 ZONING BOUNDARY FOR PROPOSED DIVERSIFIED ZONING PROPOSED MIXED M15-R8 ZONING CURRENT R8 ZONING PROPOSED MANUFACTURING ZONING CURRENT COMMERCIAL ZONING CURRENT M3-1 ZONING

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CIRCULATION BETWEEN MANUFACTURING & LABS HOUSING CIRCULATION

Housing Circulation

Manufacturing Circulation MANUFACTURING CIRCULATION

Circulation between Manufacturing and Labs

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Single Unit

153

Double Unit Convertible Live-Work

Triple Unit Convertible Live-Work


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Floor 9 |

HOUSING

Floor 8 |

HOUSING

Floor 7 |

LABS / HOUSING

Floor 6 |

MEZZANINE

Floor 5 |

MANUFACTURING


Transition between Housing Units and Labs

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From Design and Crime, and Other Diat ribes Par t I Architecture and Desig n New York: Verso. pp 23-26 Hal Foster 2002

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he remaking the point where not only comof space in modity and sign the image of the commodity appear as one, but often so do is a prime story commodity and of capitalist mospace: in actual dernity) as told and virtual malls by Georg Simthe two arc meldmel, Siegfried ed through deKracauer, Benjamin, the Situa- sign. Bruce Mau Design is in the tionists, and radvanguard here. ical geographers since (e.g., David Of one “identity program� for a Harvey, Saskia Toronto bookSassen). Today store chain, Mau it has reached

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writes of a “retail environment ... in which the brand identity, signage systems, interiors, and architecture would be totally integrated.” And of his graphic support for the new Seattle Public Library designed by Koolhaas, he states: “The central proposition involves erasing the boundaries between architecture and information, the real and the virtual.”

This integration, that erasure, is a deterritorializing of image and space that depends on a digitizing of the photograph, its loosening from old referential ties (perhaps the development of Photoshop will one day be seen as a world- historical event), and on a computing of architecture, its loosening from old structural principles (in ar-

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chitecture today sights into mealmost anything dia of Marshall can be designed McLuhan, but because almost like his countryanything can man he seems be built: hence confused in his all the arbitrary role—is he a curves and biocultural critic, a morphic blobs futurist guru, or designed by Geh- a corporate conry and followers sultant? In media - see Chapter futurology a crit3). As Deleuze ical term today and Guattari, can become a let alone Marx, catchy phrase taught us long tomorrow, and a ago, this deterri- cliche (or brand) torializing “is the the next. In a wry path of capital.” move Koolhaas now copyrights au develops his catchy phrasthe old ines, as if to ac-

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knowledge this commercial curding of critical concepts on the page (see Chapter 4). Yet for all the Situationist lingo of contemporary designers like Mau, they don’t “detourn” much; more than critics of spectacle, they are its surfers (which is indeed a favorite figure in their discourse), with “the status of the artist [and] the pay- check of the business-

man.” “So where does my work fit in?” Mau asks. “What is my relationship to this happy, smiling monster? Where is the freedom in this regime? Do I follow Timothy Leary and ‘tune in, turn on, drop out?’ What actions can I commit that cannot be absorbed? Can I outperform the system? Can I win?” Is he kidding?

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ontemporary design is part of a greater revenge of capitalism on postmodernism—a recouping of its crossings of arts and disciplines, a routinization of its transgressions. Autonomy may be an illusion or, better, a fiction; but periodically it is useful, even necessary, as it was for Loos and co. a hundred years ago. Periodically, too, this fiction

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can become repressive, even deadening, as it was when postmodernism was first advanced as an opening out of a petrified modernism. But this is no longer our situation. Perhaps it is time to recapture a sense of the political situatedness of both autonomy and its transgression, a sense of the historical dialectic of disciplinarity and its contest-


tion—to attempt again “to provide culture with running-room.” Often we are told, that design can give “style” to our “character”—that it can point the way to such semi-autonomy—but clearly it is also an agent that folds us back into the system of contemporary consumerism. Design is all about desire, but strangely this desire seems almost subject-less

today; that is, design seems to advance a new kind of narcissism, one that is all image and no interiority—an apotheosis of the subject that is also its potential disappearance. Poor little rich man; he is “precluded from all future living and striving, developing and desiring” in the neo-Art Nouveau world of total design and Internet plenitude.

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DEVELOPMENT CASE STUDIES

TYPOLOGIES OF THE MARKETPLACE

A MEDIATION WITH DEVELOPMENT STRATEGY Studio Critic Abby Hamlin Date Spring 2014 Site Brooklyn, New York Santa Monica, California Program Housing, Mixed-Use Commercial Development

The following two projects were completed in collaboration with students in the Masters in Real Estate Development program, wherein the objective of the course was to present a development strategy complete with a financial proposal, marketing goals and aims, in addition to an architectural proposal which could reasonably be built within seven to nine months of land acquisition. I anticipated the conflicted relationship between the obvious motive to generate a profit from the project developers with a supposedly sincere interest in urban growth, expansion and regeneration. Nonetheless I interpreted the project briefs as design problems first and foremost, as they presented a financial means for architecture to be built as well as a client (usually an investment corporation) to bear in mind. I was able to remain sympathetic to some but certainly not all of the development industry’s production and work values. There is no denying that architecture and construction are extremely cost- and resource-intensive operations, and I do find that it is part of the architect’s duty as a professional practitioner to remain accountable for the realization of a project within the limits of cost, time-frame, and means of production. The results of the collaboration were far less revelatory. In the end, it all came down to the numbers: (“show us the numbers” was an all-too-frequent first-reply in reviews and presentations) including total build area, floor-

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area ratio, ten-year-plan, cost per square foot. These became the evaluative concepts for project analysis. Occasionally, an impressive rendering contributed to the credibility of the overall product—which was not surprising to me, as the ubiquity of photo-realistic renderings have become images of consumption rather than appreciation, or use as a means for ‘entering’ the project experientially, or beginning to understand the nature of the project’s architectural values. The collaborative nature of the project modules led to design schema (again, this is “design-by-numbers”) which I do not readily subscribe to in their entirety. The ambitions of the course to construct a meaningful dialogue between architects and developers is all-too-relevant today, for the truth is that large-scale development schemes have a swift and totalizing impact on the character, use and functionality of future neighborhoods and urban spaces. These projects require a critical eye to ensure that these urban monstrosities, where-ever they are built and for whom-ever they profit, are designed with sensitivity to the site and the people who rely on and are affected by that space; and thus the power of architecture to affect change on the built environment must not restrict itself to the insular practice of the individual within his or her studio, but it must be part of a larger dialectic on the nature of urban development, design, and future cities.


THIRD ST

MODULE 1: RENTAL DEVELOPMENT 108 BERGEN STREET, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

BERGEN ST

LOT 10

LOT 5

LOT 7

B

C

GROUND / FLOOR 1 REAR YARD - 6'

A

SOULCYCLE 2359 SF

B

GROCER 2590 SF

C

LAUNDRY 2089 SF

A

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C

BASEMENT

A

B

F

G

H

I

E

FLOORS 2 - 6

D

C

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A

B

A

STUDIO 671 SF

B

STUDIO 615 SF

C

1 BDRM 677 SF

D

1 BDRM 752 SF

E

1 BDRM 752 SF

F

2 BDRM 1219 SF

G

2 BDRM 1330 SF

H

2 BDRM 1197 SF

I

2 BDROM 1354 SF

A

PARKING 36 SPOTS

B

GYM 2740 SF

C

ZIPCAR 2893 SF


D

E

F

C

FLOOR 7

B

A

D

A

2 BDRM 1215 SF

B

1 BDRM 879 SF

C

1 BDRM 737 SF

D

1 BDRM 918 SF

E

2 BDRM 1148 SF

F

2 BDRM 1123 SF

E

C

FLOOR 8

B

A

A

2 BDRM 1215 SF

B

1 BDRM 879 SF

C

1 BDRM 737 SF

D

1 BDRM 918 SF

E

2 BDRM 1148 SF

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MODULE 2: MIXED-USE RETAIL DEVELOPMENT 203 COLORADO AVENUE, SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA

Santa Monica’s Sears Landmarked Building The site is adjacent to the future Esplanade on Colorado Avenue and the Expo Station on 4th Ave, which will for the first time connect downtown Santa Monica with the rest of the greater Los Angeles area. The building is one of the largest sites in downtown Santa Monica, enabling the opportunity to design key transit-oriented development that would not impact residences as it is adjacent to the freeway. The site can accommodate ocean views, preservation of the historic Sears facade, and hosts potential for additional circulation improvements by expanding the roadway grid with a new street or a bridge across the freeway.

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RETAIL RESIDENTIAL OFFICE

[ COLORADO AVENUE ]

LE

NG

RIA

T AY EW

GAT

[ 4TH STREET ]

FOOT TRAFFIC FROM 3RD ST PROMENADE AND COLORADO AVE.

VIEW CORRIDOR TO PARK (FROM EXPO STATION)

BRIDGE ACCESS (OVER MAIN STREET)

LOADING DOCK

VEHICLE ACCESS

POTENTIAL ACCESS FOR PEDESTRIAN / BIKE BRIDGE OVER FREEWAY VEHICLE ACCESS

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RESIDENCES: NORT

RESIDENCES: NORTH-WEST BUILDING 173


SCULPTURE PARK

TH-EAST BUILDNIG

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THE FIELD T


D

AND

H E A R R AY


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THE FIELD & THE ARRAY

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he field demonstrates conditions of interdependence—of collective and totalizing presence. The field owes its form to its constituent parts, and yet aggregates into the semblance of a holistic entity. The field does not deny hierarchy, it eschews it. The field is ambiguous yet unmistakably identified. The field professes and embodies a singular condition; it may be polemical, or understated.

T

he array is bound by an origin, by a set of inputs. As a whole, the array may be quantitatively as multitudinous as the field—though it is able to regard its constituent elements as separate, independently conceived objects. The array professes systematic order and logic. It represents the generation of sequentially and individually derived forms, rather than a simultaneously rendered condition or arrangement.

F

ield and array are neither mutually exclusive nor dependent concepts. What is most interesting in my view, as I reflect and consider the implications of the following designs, are not the identification or characterization of a project’s process or even aesthetic effect; but what is truly significant in the dichotomy of field v. array are the conditions and reasons why they emerge and exist within the design framework, and the logic which they operate under and find themselves influenced by.

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CORE STUDIO I I

EXTREME BEAUTY

ILLUSIONS OF THE FACADE Studio Critic Christoph A. Kumpusch Date Spring 2012 Site Bond St & Lafayette New York, NY Program Casino as Hedge Fund

A Building ‘Strictly’ Visceral In "Extreme Beauty," crafting visceral, sensual experiences through a ‘dressed’ façade becomes not only an exploration in radical aesthetic form-finding, but the relationship of the interior and the exterior of the building is analyzed in terms of how the visceral nature of the exterior might bleed into or influence the interior of the building. The relationship of interior and exterior were examined through the creation of apertures, within which the facade could pull into the interior. The concept of apertures materialized into a structural diagrid for the building, upon which the facade system is installed, removed, and dynamically altered. The research conducted for the project examined the meaning of putting on "a costume" in the context of the city. With "casino" being the programmatic concept for the project, the exploration centered around the meaning of dressing for an occasion, and the consequences of meaningfully constructing a visceral exterior identity. A New Model of Hedge Fund The bank is a place of public, unregulated and institutionalized gambling, a kind of supercasino for the masses where you can bet against bank, or against other people and other institutions on matters of real life. Thematically the question at hand was: “what does financial

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chaos look like within the city?” and “does it go unnoticed?” Translucent (light-transmitting) concrete was chosen as the material of the building's facade system, and at certain times of day the inner chaos of the building may temporarily become illuminated and revealed. I am interested in the idea of invoking psychological zones within the structure and creating programmatic experiences that are finely attuned with those zones. For example, we might envision a traditional casino as hypnotic, full of rotating wheels, flashing images, happy jingling noises, and maze-like. I envision the body of the structure, the bank’s betting or gambling areas, likewise as a place saturated by media and video screens, with limited natural light, where time is easily forgotten and it becomes easy to be lost or disoriented. We witness this first at the level of the site; the building consumes the entire block in a manner evocative of a Las Vegas hotel/ casino – where in many areas circulating through the building is a requirement in order to reach certain attractions or even parts of Las Vegas Blvd. But more pointedly the form eludes perspectival distortion (in particular, an anamorphism) in the way that it juts outward from what would otherwise be expected to be geometry that is simply stacked and twisted.


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A Meltdown The collapse of two Bear Stearns hedge funds in the summer of 2007 exposed what came to be known as the sub-prime mortgage crisis reintroducing the world to an era of bank failures, a credit crunch, private defaults and massive layoffs. In institutionalizing what is in essence a casino in lower Manhattan we inevitably confront the question, what does financial chaos look like in the city? If exposed, unveiled, and publicized, what would it be or resemble? How would one react to that very demonstration of chaos? Perhaps in the few years following the global economic meltdown, we have been subjected to this very process. Perhaps the strange and threatening facade of the bank is shielding a truth that we already know.

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CORE STUDIO I

SURFACE PERFORMATIVITY MEDIATING LIQUID FORCES Studio Critic Phillip Parker Date Fall 2011 Site 125th Street, New York NY Program Hydroponic Farm

Taming Dynamic Forces Observations of water and liquid forces became an appropriate point of departure for an architectural program that revolves around the flow of liquid through a membrane: a hydroponic farm. Research focused upon an in-depth analysis of how water effects malleable surfaces and the performativity of the affected surface under those conditions. The surface then became a cornerstone of the studio’s focus; its transformational and dynamic attributes became the pivot around which architectural relationships unfolded. Surface, Skin, and Structure The studio expanded upon theories and ideas presented within Andrew Benjamin’s study of the surface in architecture; he explains that the surface is not merely structural nor simply decorative. Rather, we can conceive architecture as an effect of the possibilities and potential inherent in the making of surfaces. The material properties of the surface itself set the conditions for its performativity. Rather than being dictatory or restrictive, the surface’s material properties were ultimately understood as dynamic and

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transformational. A central tenant of the studio was a line of questioning or inquiry into traditional modes of building construction, in favor of relationships found within physicalmodeling techniques and material constraints; in this case, of bristol and piano wire. Achieving meaningful abstraction in architecture is a challenging and perilous task. There is always the risk of surpassing the literal. What I discovered is that the means of representation are as important, if not more important than the ideological concept itself. In many ways, the representation supplants the ideological and becomes the true project itself. Put differently, the representation of the architecture does not project to an imaginary building or to a reality that does not yet exist, but the representative means exist as an architecture unlike any other.


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Beaufort num

Description

Wind speed

Wave height

Sea Conditions

Land Conditions

0

Calm

< 1 mph

0 ft

Flat

Calm. Smoke rises vertically

1

Light Air

1-3 mph

0-1 ft

Ripples without crests

Smoke drift indicates wind direction

2

Light breeze

4-7 mph

1-2 ft

Small wavelets. Crests not breaking.

Wind felt on exposed skin. Leaves rustle.

3

Gentle Breeze

8-12mph

2-3.5 ft

Large wavelets. Crests begin to break.

Leaves and small twigs constantly moving.

4

Moderate Breeze 13-17 mph

3.5-6 ft

Small waves with breaking crests.

Dust and loose paper raised. Small branches move.

5

Fresh Breeze

18-24 mph

6-9 ft

Moderate waves. Small amounts of spray.

Branches of a moderate size move.

6

Strong Breeze

25-30 mph

9-13 ft

Long waves. White foam crests. Airborne spray. Large branches in motion.

7

High Wind

31-38 mph

13-19 ft

Sea heaps up.

8

Gale

39-46 mph

18-25 ft

High waves with breaking crests forming.

Twigs broken on trees. Cars veer on road.

9

Strong Gale

47-54 mph

23-32 ft

Crests roll over. Dense foam.

Small trees blow over. Branches break off trees.

Whole trees in motion. Walking against the wind.


Core Studio I | Surface Performativity | 2011 |

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Core Studio I | Surface Performativity | 2011 |

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From “ Volatile Formations� Log 25, Reclaim Resi[lience] stance... pp 55-62 Ronald Snooks 2012

V

olatility is a critical condition for design. Within the intensive processes of formation that underlie complex phenomena, those which self-organize and are capable of catastrophic change, it is the volatile nature of the system that is generative. From these

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far-from-equilibrium conditions new forms of order emerge, generating strange behaviors, characteristics, and traits—conditions potent with architectural possibility. Computation is a necessary accomplice in working with complex sys-


tems, but in the automation architecture of design, marcomputationginalizing risk, al methods and foregroundhave been adopt- ing stability and ed that privilege equilibrium. I certainty over would argue open-ended instead for comprocesses. plex systems of This adoption formation that is based on a operate through set of false asthe volatile intersumptions action of algoregarding the rithmic behaviors pseudo-objective and engage nature of computhe speculatational design. tive potential of These systems computationof parametric al processes. variation and Behavioral foroptimization mation is posited are complicit in as a nonlinear

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algorithmic design methodology that seeds specific architectural intent within the local interactions of multi-agent systems.

M

essy computation is a nonlinear and inconsistent process of negotiation between generative and explicit procedures. This requires a relentless, iterative torturing of the

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model—editing, extracting, manipulating, and returning the model to the volatile space of algorithmic formation. Messy computation involves constant feedback between algorithmic procedures and direct digital surface modeling, an attempt to maximize and hybridize the potential of each model of design. The generative and the explicit each


inform the other within a manual feedback loop until a coherent or synthetic vocabulary emerges. The constant but inconsistent feedback slowly congeals into a coherent behavior and set of organizational and formal characteristics.

V

olatile algorithmic design methodologies can be understood as part of a

broader contemporary interest in indeterminacy and nonlinearity that has been emerging since the advent of chaos and complexity theory. However, the argument for volatility is more than a theoretical concern; it is a fundamental concern for the importance of subjectivity and the nature of risk within design.

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ENCODED MATTER

INTERFEROMETRIC MOTION SONIC VECTOR DISTRIBUTION Course Critic Ezio Blasetti Date Fall 2013 Collaboration Maximilian Lauter

Interferometry is the experimental measurement of displacement caused by the construction and deconstruction of waveforms. Indicies of refraction can be gathered from light, such as in holography, as well as from sound. For this project, we aimed to develop a system that would visualize the interfering trajectories of a set grid of points assigned and emitting specific frequencies. As each point affects every other point their new vertices are plotted. For the first iteration of this visualization, a grid of points was fed an increasing frequency from 25 Hz to 2 Khz with a fixed amplitude. Additionally, a scaling factor was introduced to increase the distance between the interference step of each frequency. This was performed for six different intensities: the resulting geometry captured across this spectrum began to demonstrate a consistent geometry, but in the upper ends of the spectrum would dissipate into chaotic and non-resemblant arrangements.

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Later iterations of the visualization system evolved to include a z-factor for the displacement of the waveforms. Using a fixed frequency and amplitude, the steps of intensity for interference were then mapped in threedimensional space. Each generation affects the grid through subtle interactions until the resulting complexity explodes the systems. This is the next step in the development of a visualization system that can map the interacting sonic forces within a pre-defined volume.


points was fed an increasing frequency from 25 Hz to 2 Khz with a fixed amplitude. The resulting geometry captured across this spectrum is displayed below. Additionally, a scaling factor was introduced to increase distance of each interference step of each frequency. This was performed for six different intensities, the first of which is represented in the sequence, while the sixth and more distorted geometry is shown below.

#.0

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catalog title: plan

index description: sine sweep 25 Hz to 2 Khz, fixed frequency.

step six

step six

GSAPP, Encoded Matter Fall 2013, instructor: Ezio Blasetti

design team: max lauter / melodie yashar

Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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-

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catalog title: perspective

index description: frequency 100 Hz, amplitude 0.39

#.0

#.0

GSAPP, Encoded Matter Fall 2013, instructor: Ezio Blasetti

design team: max lauter / melodie yashar


#.0

#.1

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catalog title: perspective

index description: frequency 100 Hz, amplitude 0.39

GSAPP, Encoded Matter Fall 2013, instructor: Ezio Blasetti

design team: max lauter / melodie yashar

Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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Encoded Matter | Interferometric Motion | 2013 |

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SEARCH SPACE: ADVANCED ALGORITHMIC DESIGN

VIRTUAL 3D PRINTER

LENDING FORM TO CONTENT ON THE WEB Course Critic Mark Collins Toru Hasegawa Date Spring 2013

The manner in which we perceive content on the web is undoubtedly media-saturated, fastpaced, and constantly updating, but can it be materialized into a tangible form? This project became an exercise in lending form to code on the web, in order to discern aesthetic and formal differences between content inevitably saturated by a variety of media — and ultimately formally represent that content in an abstract, albeit, a concrete and materially perceivable form. The algorithm, written in Processing, detects key words in source code from a given web-page (the content that is HTML, CSS, PHP, JavaScript — including but not limited to <br> tags, the initiation of a CSS style, the inclusion of an image or a hyper-link) and responds to the appearance of these words by “printing” a virtual block on the screen.

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The parameters for the printed element included the 3-dimensional direction the next block would print (that is, forward, back, up, down, or left and right) according to the appearance of key words or tags. The underlying rules of the system include that an initiating block is generated first by the script, and each subsequent block would only print adjacent to a preceding block. The resulting or generated structure comes to symbolically represent the coded structure of the website.


SearchSpace | Virtual 3d Printer | 2013 |

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SearchSpace | Virtual 3d Printer | 2013 |

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APP-ITECTURE

SOUND CITY NYC

A LOG FOR THE URBAN SOUNDSCAPE Course Critic Mark Collins Toru Hasegawa Date Spring 2014

Sound City NYC is a conceptual prototype intended for development as an iPhone App. Using WebEx, we were able to code and test the essential actions and functionality of the application. Sound City is envisioned as an extended research effort to document and analyze the urban soundscape of New York City, which hosts an aural and sonic topography impossible to capture comprehensively or in its totality. The sonic landscape of the city is a rich musicological and socio-historical resource for our present day and age. In regards to the user-experience, Sound City is intended as a sound-sharing platform for capturing and posting samples of ambient noise, public speech or the spoken word, street music and impromptu performances. When documented or recorded, the sound is geo- and time-tagged. The sound is then be visible by other users within the immediate geographical vicinity of the tag. When shared, the audio file is added to a feed of sounds, tagged according to musical or sound category, and made available on the web for download. Finally the App features an algorithm which

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compiles the sound intensity information of a sampling of audio recordings within an geographic vicinity and constructs an Isobel Sound Map of the data (to this day, Isobel maps are drawn by a single person walking around recording sound samples within a particular area for days at a time. Musicians, filmmakers, academics and sound artists alike are only a few examples of the types of users to benefit from and remain fascinated by a constantly expanding database of urban noise. Sound City could likely serve as a platform for users to curate unique sound walks throughout the city. But most importantly the concept of listening closely to our environment fosters an appreciation for auditory spatial awareness, remaining attuned to the sonic character of the natural environment, and to how the spaces we design and inhabit fashion and configure the acoustical makeup of our experiences.


RECORD

SHARE

soun Proje sound city nyc

sound city nyc

EDIT

sound city nyc EDIT

NEXT

sound city nyc

Write a caption

start

share

00:00:00

Title

00:00:00

Title

00:00:00

Title

00:00:00

Title

00:00:00

Duration Cover Photo

browse

SOUND LOG Title

Insert Title

an urban sound log

record

Melod April 1 Appi-t

sound city nyc NEXT

00:00:00

feed

audio only

00:00:00

audio/video

save as .mp3

save as .wav

tag date/time allow downloads share

BROWSE

sound city nyc an urban sound log

FEED

sound city nyc

sound city nyc

sound city nyc

BROWSE

BROWSE

LOCATING YOU

objects

technology

Title

environment

technology

Description #tag #tag

street music

performance share

options

00:00:00

save

Title

share

feed

00:00:00

Description #tag #tag

neighborhood browse

00:00:00

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download

LOCATION

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CATEGORY

share

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ISOBEL SOUND MAP

sound city nyc

sound city nyc options

isobel topo

map

satellite

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sound city nyc an urban sound log Title

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record

browse

share

feed

save

download

Title

00:00:00

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00:00:00

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00:00:00

App-itecture | Sound City NYC| 2014 |

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CINEMATIC COMMUNICATION

CINEMATIC SPACE-TIME

FILM AS A MEDIUM OF MOVEMENT Course Critic John Szot Date Spring 2013

“Malibu, Drive” explores film as a medium most profoundly devoted to and demonstrative of the concept of movement. At the core of the cinematographic practice is the time-image — which, unlike photography or even architecture for that matter — is first and foremost temporal in nature. “Malibu, Drive” presents a disorienting yet revelatory sequence of moving images dedicated to the theme of movement through space. The film (3 minutes) traces the process of driving from the hills of Los Angeles to its oceanside, to the city of Malibu. Rather than depicting verbatim the images of the experience (sitting in the car, driving, and then arriving to the beach) as they would have been immediately perceived, the film mirrors half of the image above the horizonline, presenting an abstracted view of what would otherwise be the mundane: the interior of a car, the flow of traffic on a freeway. Here streetlights and car headlights, free from the expectation of a performative or a leveled ground-plane, become ephemeral spatial elements that are more ethereal than characteristically urban or transportation-related. The film uses these abstract sequences to

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focus on the nature of “traveling time” — it sustains the impression of dynamic movement through space (in the case of the car interior it is more of a trajectory which one travels from within) and how the sensation of movement is perceived entirely differently as part of a cinematic composition or viewing experience. The sound, color and impressionistic rush of the moving vehicle remain apparent as obvious sensations of the overall experience — yet as viewers we are in the privileged position to see even more than what is immediately perceivable from the inside of a car — we are able to associatively reconstruct a new experience from the tracings of phenomenal experience which the film leaves for us to interpret.


Cinematic Communication | Film as a Medium of Movement | 2014 |

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THE TOPOLOGICAL STUDY OF FORM / THE TANGIBLE ORIGINS OF SIMULATION

ORGANIC CYCLES

PROCESSES OF BIRTH & RELEASE Course Critic Jose Sanchez Date Fall 2012

Organic Cycles depicts a natural process of regenerative growth and rebirth in a postapocalyptic setting — a theoretically conceived moment in which natural and organic beings have evolved to demonstrate new properties of material composition and movement. In this joint fictional-theoretical scenario, a host (colloquially we may refer to the host as a chrysanthemum) carries its flourishing and abundant bounty via an attractor — but when the attractor dissipates, the elements scatter into pieces and in fact repel the structure and influence of the host. At the conclusion of this sequence, represented in a short animation of 45 seconds, the particulate substance drifts far into the distance, possibly to be found by another attractor with which to adhere. Now abandoned, the host, or the structural body of the metalloid flowerorganism, withers upon the ground to die.

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The metalloid quality of the scattered elements is suggested by the simultaneously fluid and dense dynamism with which the particulate matter loosely adheres to the host. The properties of this collective mass is projected as an intelligently evolved material substance — demonstrating airiness and substantiveness at the same time. While the flower-analogy dictates that the particulate matter be a dependent element of the overall organism, its departure and eventual extermination of the host (or ‘the stem’) implies a natural aptitude far more robust than one might expect.


Topological Study of Form / Tangible Origins of Simulation | Organic Cycles | 2012 |

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ANIMATED COMPUTATION

CURVE TO SPLINE

GOTHIC PROSTHESIS AND REMEDIATION Course Critic Christopher Whitelaw Date Fall 2012

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This project explored the notion of constructing an architecture “of the imagination,” as probed by the project brief, while implementing and developing the language of Gothic geometric form: the linearity of its structural columns, the surface patterning of the ceiling, and the sinewy lines of it reinforcements, for example. The concept was to transform the “language” of the Gothic and implement its visual style, aesthetics and loaded affective embedded and entrenched in processes of advanced computation; here in particular, the creation of fractal geometries and exponentially repeated form ad-infinitum. Autodesk Maya was used as the exclusive tool for modeling this transformation and representing the surface qualities of the geometry.

A number of projects from the Bartlett School of Architecture served as inspiration and provocation for the topic in particular; having tagged their work on-line as “Gothic Prosthesis,” the projects explore the addition of parametrically and algorithmically generated geometry which is simultaneously visually arresting but also presents new ways of perceiving the structural foundation of the Gothic cathedral. This project intentionally does not broach the realm of the real in order to realize the potential of an experimental language of architecture developing from the grandeur of the Gothic but also the computational and algorithmic processes of the present.


Animated Computation | Gothic Prosthesis | 2012 |

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Animated Computation | Gothic Prosthesis | 2012 |

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DRAWING & REPRESENTATION II

MURMURATION

SWARMED AGGREGATION Course Critic Kutan Ayata Date Spring 2012

A “murmuration� is the collective noun for a flock of starlings; the logic of their swarming flight patterns became the primary issue of investigation in this project. The following drawings became an exercise in representing the flight patterns of a murmuration over time, in hopes of understanding the inherent field and array conditions demonstrated by the flock. Issues explored included how one condenses 200+ frames into a single drawing on the paper plane, how one starts to measure distance, speed, and time through drawing of a film clip, and how one begins to (re-)construct the geometry of an already-documented murmuration for the purposes of study and close analysis.

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Within each of these representations there exists the semblance of an architectural form (albeit an abstract one) that is rooted in an underlying geometry and which is transformed by a series of pressures, attractors and forces. Controlling the dynamism of the murmuration became an essential task in deliberating how one chooses to draw a system as complex yet nonetheless mesmerizingly beautiful as this; selectively limiting the amount of information included became a task balanced by the desire to convey the sensation of a moving entity. Tackling large amounts of data and information in order to achieve the impression of a moving entity became a primary concern and objective of the project.



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Drawing & Representation II | Murmuration | 2012 |

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Drawing & Representation II | Murmuration | 2012 |

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Drawing & Representation II | Murmuration | 2012 |

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Drawing & Representation II | Murmuration | 2012 |

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BUILDING T EC


H N O LO GY


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BUILDING TECHNOLOGY

A

rchitecture enters the modality of space-time only as it exists in built form. While an architecture of hypotheticals enables the imagination to willfully ignore the realities of physical construction, the ontological existence of a materially realized and tangible object delivers a new dimension to an otherwise theoretical construction.

T

he emphasis of course rests in identifying (and then challenging) our accepted capabilities in building processes and construction methods, in order to materialize radically new and provocative approaches towards built form. Architecture is simultaneously undermined and reinvigorated by technology—it is both a constraint and an outlet for innovation. To instigate change in the conventional, systematic building processes of the construction industry, one must first come to terms with how it actually works. Building systems are complex and interrelated, and in order to maximize the efficacy and performative potential of a project, the individual strains of the building—structure, mechanical, and sustainable, for example—must be considered with equal care and diligence.

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SURFACE, SCREEN, & STRUCTURE

VANTAGE POINT

STEEL FAÇADE FABRICATION Course Critic Joseph Vidich Date Fall 2013 Site Broadway-Lafayette, New York City Program Building Facade Collaboration Reece Tucker Jin Chen Wendy Miao

Vanatge Point, a sheet-metal façade system designed for the Adidas flagship building on the corner of Broadway and Lafayette streets in New York City, features distinct perspectival views of increased transparency and visibility which pedestrians and passers-by may engage from the ground level. These vantage points are subtle in that they do not demand attention from the causal onlooker, and yet host experientially meaningful potential for those willing to engage and interact with the façade system. The select ‘views’ are oriented to a series of locations upon the sidewalk and street; pedestrians and users of the building alike may interact with and experience dynamic vantage points from which to view the building above or the city below. The design of the overall façade was subdivided according to the location of the vantage points, with individual triangular sections corresponding to a particular and unique view. Sections are subtly varied and produce a gradient effect between the lowest (closest) panels to the pedestrian viewer, and those that are farther away.

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The field condition which ensues from the user’s engagement with the opaque faces of the module produces conditions of sameness until he or she arrives upon or finds the vantage point, wherein emerges a condition of difference. The façade’s individual panels are designed minimally as 3-sided pyramids, with the outward-facing side of the module featuring an aperture allowing for increased visibility and light to the interior of the building. The outwardface of the module is oriented according to the surface-normal of the respective vantage point, calculated according to ‘standard’ eye-level from the sidewalk or across the street from the site.


Surface, Screen & Structure | Vantage Point | 2013 |

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Vantage Point Panel Side Panels Panel-Panel Connection Flap

1/8” 3mm Dia. Rivets 1/32” Stainless Steel Folded Panels

1/8” Pfeiffer Connection Hanger to Suspension Cable

Side Panels

1/8” Cable Crimping Sleave 1/8” Cable Saddle 3/16” Quick Link Eye Bolt

Typical Panel-Panel Assembly

Surface, Screen & Structure | Vantage Point | 2013 |

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Surface, Screen & Structure | Vantage Point | 2013 |

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TYPE A bottom + side

2’

2’

connected to human eye

Jakob: Carrier: Wire rope swivel with disk, swaged

Vantage Point:

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Chen Jin | Reece Tucker | Miao Wei | Melodie Yashar

Structural Scheme 2: Vertical Tension Grid


TYPE B top + side

2’

2’

30802-0300 30802-0300

Jakob: Carrier: Wire rope swivel with disk, swaged

Surface, Screen & Structure | Vantage Point | 2013 |

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Surface, Screen & Structure | Vantage Point | 2013 |

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ARCHITECTURAL TECHNOLOGY V

BRONX FOOD MANUFACTURING

A HUB FOR ARTISAN & SPECIALITY FOODS Course Critic Robert Condon Date Spring 2013 Site Bronx, New York Program Food Manufacturing Facility Collaboration Geoff Bell Yasmina Kahn Davi Weber

The Bronx Artisanal Food Manufacturing Building is designed to turn the production of food into an event, a destination building where the public can view the production of artisanal food and enjoy the fruits of that production in the same space. BAFM is programmed as a layered set of diverse food production and distribution operations. The ground floor is the public entry, with space devoted to small kitchens for food truck vendors that use the building as a hub for their mobile businesses. The west side is used for loading and unloading of raw materials and finished product, ready to ship out. As visitors enter on the east, they can travel directly up through the building via a glass elevator, or remain in the cafe area to enjoy a coffee or savor a light fare from one of the vendors. The top floor contains a large restaurant, with indoor and outdoor seating that faces south toward the New York City skyline, along with a cooking school and hydroponic garden. Traveling up through the glass elevator allows visitors to pass by each of the production zones: Bakery, Meats, Cheese, Beer and Chocolate, gaining short glimpses into the production space, views of exhibits related to each of the production types, and filtered views beyond the building through the louvers.

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The primary materials, weathered steel and cast-in-place concrete, express the industrial nature of the building while the subtle curves of the façade produce a contrasting lightness, a thin veil over the heavy mass of the concrete structure. This provides unity to the façade, obscuring and blurring the transitions between mass and void. The building is supported by a moment frame, and is composed of poured concrete slabs and a poured concrete column grid that is continuous from the ground to top floors. To resist punching shear and beam shear, we used 9’ for the exterior and 11’ for the interior foundations with a depth of 3.5’. The 1’ drop panels further assist with punching shear per floor. The exterior louver system and rain-screen is constructed of CORTEN steel to provide an industrial aesthetic that unifies the multiple programs within the Bronx Food Market. By subtly twisting along the length of the façade, the louvers obscure the blank walls of the enclosed portions of the building, and open up over the glazed surfaces to control solar gain, along with views in and out of the building. From the street, the public sees a gradient of open and closed that is both monumental and light; a mechanical veil covering a heavy concrete mass.


D 1c

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D

r7b

D 4

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S5

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East Short Section


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Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

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D

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D

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D

a

D

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D 1b

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West Elevation

10b

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Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

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TERM 15" x 15"

BRANCH 17" x 17"

ZONE4.5

ZONE

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

TERM 5" x 10"

BRANCH 10" x 10"

ZONE4

BRANCH 10" x 10"

TE

1000 CFM 12" x 15" MAIN 21" x 21"

ZONE1

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

MAIN 12" x 13" MAIN 17" x 17"

MAIN 38" x 38"

2400 CFM 20" x 20"

TER

2400 CFM 20" x 20" BRANCH 27" x 27"

TERM

ZON BRANCH 13 x 12" TERM 9 x 10"

MAIN 31" x 32"

4

3

2

1

A

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B

C

D

E

F


E5

BRANCH 12 x 12"

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

ZONE5.5 TERM 10 x 10"

BRANCH 15" x 15"

ERM 5" x 10" MAIN 21" x 20"

BRANCH 22" x 22"

ZONE2

MAIN 12" x 13"

1414 CFM 16" x 16"

RM 23" x 23"

ZONE6

17" x 17" 1600 CFM BRANCH 22" x 22"

MAIN 31" x 31" MAIN 24" x 24" MAIN 18" x 18"

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

M 23" x 23"

1000 CFM 12" x 15"

NE3.5 ZONE3 ZONE2.5 BRANCH 14" x 14"

G

H

I

J

K

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FRESH AIR REQUIREMENTS Zone

GROUND

Zone Type

Est Max Occupancy

OA Required (cfm/person)

Total Max Occupancy

Min OA per Zone (cfm)

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4 zone 5 zone 5.5 zone 6

1508 2235 960 1440 805 1170 7729

cafĂŠ / dining area cafĂŠ / dining area market / deli reception / lobby commercial / shop office storage/industrial

60 60 60 60 60 7 50

20 20 20 20 20 20 15

90.5 134.1 57.6 86.4 48.3 8.2 386.5

1809.6 2682 1152 1728 966 163.8 5796.75

Duct Area Require Commercial Commercial Commercial Commercial Commercial Industrial Industrial

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4 zone 5 zone 6

3598 1725 1173 725 5489 2227

storage/office storage/industrial storage/industrial industrial/hot storange/industrial industrial/hot

60 50 50 60 50 50

20 20 20 20 20 20

215.9 86.3 58.7 43.5 274.5 111.4

4317.6 1725 1173 870 5489 2227

Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4 zone 5

4400 1173 2500 7041 2500

office/corridor industrial/storage industrial/kitchen industrial industrial

7 60 50 60 60

20 20 20 20 20

30.8 70.4 125.0 422.5 150.0

616 1407.6 2500 8449.2 3000

Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4

3750 2600 1324 8570

industrial/kitchen industrial/kitchen office/lobby industrial/kitchen

60 60 7 50

20 20 20 20

225.0 156.0 9.3 428.5

4500 3120 185.36 8570

Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4

4524 7626 2500 2500

warm/industrial refrig/industrial storage/cooridoor storage

60 50 50 50

20 20 20 20

271.4 381.3 125.0 125.0

5428.8 7626 2500 2500

Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

zone 1 zone 2 zone 3 zone 4 REST/CULINARY zone 1 zone 2 zone 2.5 zone 3 zone 3.5 zone 4 zone 4.5 zone 5 zone 5.5

3266 2906 2250 9441

industrial/kitchen industrial/kitchen commercial/office industrial

60 50 7 50

20 20 20 20

196.0 145.3 15.8 472.1

3919.2 2906 315 9441

Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial

4310 2950 775 1274 818 1560 477 1015 1685

7 50 7 60 50 50 50 7 7

20 20 20 20 20 20 20 20 20

30.2 147.5 5.4 76.4 40.9 78.0 23.9 7.1 11.8

603.4 2950 108.5 1528.8 818 1560 477 142.1 235.9

Industrial Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Commercial Commercial

zone 6

940

office/laboratory cooking school culinary offices dining bar / dining kitchen industrial kitchen/storage kitchen office/corridor cooking auditor / lockers

50

20

47.0

940

BREAD

MEAT

CHEESE

BREWERY

CHOCOLATE

295

Floor Area (sqft)

Industrial


Max Duct Velocity OA Intakes Main Ducts (Mech (Industrial) Room) 800 2400 OA Intakes Main Ducts (Mech (Commercial) Room)

Min OA per Zone (cfm)

650

2000

Main Ducts (Occupied space) 2000 Main Ducts (Occupied space)

1500

Branch Ducts 1500

Terminal Ducts 1000

Returns 1000

Branch Ducts

Terminal Ducts

Returns

1000

750

750

Outdoor Exhausts

800

Outdoor Exhausts

650

1809.6 2682 1152 1728 966 163.8 5796.75

Duct Area Required (sqin) Commercial 400.90 Commercial 482.76 Commercial 207.36 Commercial 311.04 Commercial 173.88 Industrial 29.48 Industrial 1043.42

130.29 160.92 69.12 103.68 57.96 9.83 347.81

173.72 193.10 82.94 124.42 69.55 11.79 417.37

260.58 257.47 110.59 165.89 92.74 15.72 556.49

347.44 386.21 165.89 248.83 139.10 23.59 834.73

347.44 386.21 165.89 248.83 139.10 23.59 834.73

29.48 1043.42

4317.6 1725 1173 870 5489 2227

Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

956.51 310.50 211.14 156.60 988.02 400.86

310.87 103.50 70.38 52.20 329.34 133.62

414.49 124.20 84.46 62.64 395.21 160.34

621.73 165.60 112.61 83.52 526.94 213.79

828.98 248.40 168.91 125.28 790.42 320.69

828.98 248.40 168.91 125.28 790.42 320.69

310.50 211.14 156.60 988.02 400.86

616 1407.6 2500 8449.2 3000

Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

136.47 253.37 450.00 1520.86 540.00

44.35 84.46 150.00 506.95 180.00

59.14 101.35 180.00 608.34 216.00

88.70 135.13 240.00 811.12 288.00

118.27 202.69 360.00 1216.68 432.00

118.27 202.69 360.00 1216.68 432.00

136.47 253.37 450.00 1520.86 540.00

4500 3120 185.36 8570

Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial

810.00 561.60 41.06 1542.60

270.00 187.20 13.35 514.20

324.00 224.64 17.79 617.04

432.00 299.52 26.69 822.72

648.00 449.28 35.59 1234.08

648.00 449.28 35.59 1234.08

810.00 561.60 1542.60

5428.8 7626 2500 2500

Industrial Industrial Industrial Industrial

977.18 1372.68 450.00 450.00

325.73 457.56 150.00 150.00

390.87 549.07 180.00 180.00

521.16 732.10 240.00 240.00

781.75 1098.14 360.00 360.00

781.75 1098.14 360.00 360.00

977.18 1372.68 450.00 450.00

3919.2 2906 315 9441

Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial

705.46 523.08 69.78 1699.38

235.15 8.72 1.13 566.46

282.18 209.23 30.24 679.75

376.24 278.98 45.36 906.34

564.36 418.46 60.48 1359.50

564.36 418.46 60.48 1359.50

705.46 523.08 69.78 1699.38

603.4 2950 108.5 1528.8 818 1560 477 142.1 235.9

Industrial Industrial Industrial Commercial Industrial Industrial Industrial Commercial Commercial

108.61 531.00 19.53 338.69 147.24 280.80 85.86 31.48 52.26

36.20 177.00 6.51 91.73 49.08 93.60 28.62 8.53 14.15

43.44 212.40 7.81 146.76 58.90 112.32 34.34 13.64 22.65

57.93 283.20 10.42 220.15 78.53 149.76 45.79 20.46 33.97

86.89 424.80 15.62 293.53 117.79 224.64 68.69 27.28 45.29

86.89 424.80 15.62 293.53 117.79 224.64 68.69 27.28 45.29

108.61 531.00 19.53 338.69 147.24 280.80 85.86 31.48 52.26

Industrial

169.20

56.40

67.68

90.24

135.36

135.36

169.20

940

400.90 482.76 207.36 311.04 173.88

956.51

41.06

Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

296


297


Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

298


299


Detail E-5

Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

Elevator Section Through Cab Scale: .25” = 1’ 0”

300


Curb Parapet Flashing

6” Rigid Foam Insulation

Ballast Perforated Metal Mesh

Detail R-4

301

Sloped Roof Detail at Outdoor Dining Scale: 3” = 1’ 0”


Parapet Flashing Pressure-Equalized Rainscreen, Corten Steel Z-Clip

6” Rigid Foam Insulation Air/Vapor Barrier

Pedestal Paver

Cast-in-Place Concrete Wall

Detail R-1a

North Facade Flat Roof Parapet Scale: 1 1/2” = 1’ 0” Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

302


Cast-in-Place Concrete Cast-in-Place Concrete Column Column

Cast-in-Place Concrete Cast-in-Place Concrete Drop Panel Drop Panel

Cast-in-Place Concrete Cast-in-Place Concrete Two-Way StructuralTwo-Way Slab Structural Slab

Inward-Pivoting Storefront Inward-Pivoting System Storefront System Double-Glazing

Double-Glazing

Steel Perforated Wide-Flange Steel Perforated BeamWide-Flange Beam Steel Pivot BracketSteel Pivot Bracket

Corten Steel Louver Corten Shading Steel System Louver Shading Syste

303

dembly Structural and Structural Bay Bay

Scale: 1/2” Scale: = 1’ 0” 1/2” = 1’ 0”


Cor-ten Steel Louver Pivoting Cor-ten SteelBracket, Louver Aluminum Pivoting Bracket, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum Custom-fabricated Pivot Bracket, Custom-fabricated Aluminum Pivot Bracket, Aluminum

Range of motion: 150° Range of motion: 150°

Cor-ten Steel Louver Pivoting Cor-ten SteelBracket, Louver Aluminum Pivoting Bracket, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Custom-fabricated Aluminum Pivot Bracket, Custom-fabricated Aluminum Pivot Bracket, Aluminum

Louver Pivot, 75 Degrees Louver 3” = 1’ 0”Pivot, 75 Degrees 3” = 1’ 0” Cor-ten Steel Louver Pivoting Cor-ten SteelBracket, Louver Aluminum Pivoting Bracket, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum Custom-fabricated Pivot Bracket, Custom-fabricated Aluminum Pivot Bracket, Aluminum

Range of motion: 150° Range of motion: 150°

Cor-ten Steel Louver Cor-ten Steel Louver Pivoting Bracket, Aluminum Pivoting Bracket, LL-Brackets, Aluminum Aluminum LL-Brackets, Aluminum Custom-fabricated Pivot Bracket, Custom-fabricated Aluminum Pivot Bracket, Aluminum

Louver Pivot, 0 Degrees Louver 3” = 1’ 0”Pivot, 0 Degrees 3” = 1’ 0”

Architectural Technology V | Bronx Food Manufacturing | 2013 |

304


ARCHITECTURAL TECHNOLOGY IV

N. AMERICAN FOLK ART MUSEUM

A CASE STUDY IN BUILDING TECHNOLOGY Course Critic Anton Martinez Date Fall 2012 Collaboration Jordan Anderson Della Krantz Andrew Niccolaides

The North American Folk Art Museum, located on West 53rd Street in Manhattan, New York City, is here evaluated as a case study of contemporary architectural prowess within New York City. The analysis of the building included its structural system, façade system, heating and cooling systems, as well as its innovative use of material technologies. The American Folk Art Museum, located on a 40’ wide site, was completed in 2001. The architects, Todd Williams & Billie Tsien, sought to create a series of intimate spaces characterized by natural light, and hoped to distinguish the 100’ long site from the surrounding MOMA properties. The variety of interior spaces compensate for the museum’s limited footprint, which is best demonstrated by the sculptural tombasil facade design. As of 2012, the museum has been purchased by MoMA and as of 2014 is planned to be demolished in order to accommodate a design for MoMA’s expansion.

305

The first “ground up” museum building built in New York City since the Whitney, the building is eight stories, two of which are bellow ground. The 12,500 square feet of exhibition space are interrupted by irregular recesses and unexpected niches, and are intended to be experienced from the top down. Two poured in place concrete stairs lead visitors through the exhibition and public spaces. The rear scissor stair is cantilevered, connecting the mezzanine to the fifth floor. The main staircase hangs from the periphery of the atrium through a concrete side wall. Both staircases minimize visible structure, purposely concealing construction joints and suggesting a sense of weightlessness.


Architectural Technology IV | N. American Folk Art Museum | 2012 |

306


OFFICE RARE BOOKS ROOM

OFFICE

OFFICE

JANITOR’S CLOSET

CONFERENCE ROOM CORRIDOR

RECEPTION SECURITY ROOM

OPEN OFFICE SPACE

OPEN OFFICE SPACE

MAIL ROOM STORAGE

LIBRARY ART STORAGE

PANTRY

OFFICE

OFFICE

OFFICE

OFFICE

OFFICE

OFFICE

COAT CHECK STAFF LOCKER EDUCATION ALCOVE

OPEN TO ABOVE

CORRIDOR

ELECTRICAL ROOM

WOMENS RESTROOM

MENS RESTROOM

AUDITORIUM CLASSROOM

STORAGE MECHANICAL ROOM

OPEN TO ABOVE

ENTRANCE HALL OPEN TO ABOVE

COMMON HALL RECEPTION

OPEN TO ABOVE

OFFICE CASHIER MUSEUM SHOP

LANDING

LANDING

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

OPEN TO ABOVE

EXHIBITION SPACE

CAFE

SERVING AREA

WOMEN’S RESTROOM

OPEN TO BELOW

MENS TOILET

307


LANDING

WEST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

SKYLIGHT

SOUTH EXHIBITION

TO LOWER

NORTH EXHIBITION

TERRACE

EAST EXHIBITION

SKYLIGHT

OPEN TO ABOVE

LANDING

WEST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

SOUTH EXHIBITION

NORTH EXHIBITION

EAST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO BELOW

WEST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

SOUTH EXHIBITION OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

NORTH EXHIBITION EAST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO BELOW

JANITOR CLOSET

LANDING

WEST EXHIBITION

OPEN TO BELOW

SOUTH EXHIBITION OPEN TO ABOVE OPEN TO BELOW

NORTH EXHIBITION EAST EXHIBITION

Architectural Technology IV | N. American Folk Art Museum | 2012 |

308


0” FLR. 23’ ND CO E S

4” 11’ NINE ZA Z ME

” 0’ 0 FL. ST

FIR

” ’ -4 -13 LAR L E C

” R ’ -8 -25 ELLA C B U S

309


E2

US 4” 91’ NTHO PE H C

ME

2” 80’ SLAB F O RO

0” L. 66’ F TH FIF

. 8” 51’ TH FL R U FO

4” 27’ FL. IRD H T

0” FLR. 23’ D ON C SE

Architectural Technology IV | N. American Folk Art Museum | 2012 | 4” 11’ NINE ZA EZ

310


SOUTH CROSS SECTION 1/8” = 1’-0” 82’ - 0” T.O. PARAPET 80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLOOR

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

37’ - 4” THIRD FLR.

23’ - 0” SECOND FLR.

0’ - 0” FIRST FLR.

CLASSROOM

-13’ - 4” CELLAR

LIBRARY -25’ 8” SUB CELLAR

311

RARE BOOKS

NORTH CROSS SECTION 1/8” = 1’-0”


NORTH ELAVATION 1/8” = 1’-0”

124’ - 8’’ T.O. WALL

103’ 8” T.O. MONITOR

84’ - 4’’ T.O. PARAPET 82’ - 0” T.O. PARAPET 80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

87’ 8” T.O. WALL 86’ 10” T.O. ROOF 82’ - 0” T.O. PARAPET 80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLOOR

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLOOR

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

37’ - 4” THIRD FLR.

37’ - 4” THIRD FLR.

23’ - 0” SECOND FLR.

23’ - 0” SECOND FLR.

11’ - 4” MEZZ.

0’ - 0” FIRST FLR.

Architectural Technology IV | N. American Folk Art Museum | 2012 |

312


EAST ELEVATION 1/8” = 1’-0”

102’ - 4 1/2” B.O. MONITOR

103’- 8” T.O. MONITOR

87’ - 8” T.O. PARAPET 82’ - 0” T.O. PARAPET 80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

84’ - 4” T.O. PARAPET

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLOOR

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

37’ - 4” THIRD FLR.

23’ - 0” SECOND FLR.

23’- 8” T.O. PARAPET

11’ - 4” MEZZ.

0’ - 0” FIRST FLR.

313

0’ - 5” GRADE


SERVE 4TH FLOOR SERVE 5TH FLOOR

SERVE 3RD FLOOR SERVE 2ND FLOOR

103’- 8” T.O. MONITOR

SKY LIGHT

82’ - 0” T.O. PARAPET 80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLOOR

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

SUPPLY AIR

37’ - 4” THIRD FLR.

SUPPLY AIR 23’- 8” T.O. PARAPET 23’ - 0” SECOND FLR.

11’ - 3” MEZZ.

SUPPLY AIR

RETURN AIR

0’ - 0” FIRST FLR.

0’ - 5” GRADE

SUPPLY AIR

-13’ -4” CELLAR

-25’ -8” SUB-CELLAR

RETURN AIR

G. EXHAUST

Architectural Technology IV | N. American Folk Art Museum | 2012 |

314


315


STEEL STUD COVER TO PREVENT VIEW OF PLYWOOD PANEL STRUCTURE

80’ - 2” ROOF SLAB

PENDANT MOUNTED LIGHT FIXTURE

WOVEN PLYWOOD PANELS

66’ - 0” FIFTH FLR.

51’ - 8” FOURTH FLR.

BLUED STEEL RAIL

ALUMINIUM LIGHT SOFFIT

SUGAR BLASTED AT TOP AND BOTTOM TREAD

SUGAR BLASTED UNDERSIDE OF STAIRS AND ARCHITECTURAL CONCRETE SLABS

BLUED STEEL RAIL

EXHIBITION NICHE 37’ - 4” THIRD FLR. EXPANSION JOINT COVER

316


ARCHITECTURAL TECHNOLOGY I

PNEUMATIC FAÇADE SYSTEM ETFE TEXLON FOIL CLADDING Course Critic Phillip Anzalone Date Fall 2011 Collaboration Jordan Anderson Della Krantz Hannah Lee

The primary structure of the facade system is composed of a steel frame, concrete floor slabs, CMU (waterproofed), metal panel, insulation, dry wall, embed, glass curtain wall, and aluminum tubing. The components of the secondary system are the pneumatic ETFE cushions, manufactured by Vector Foiltec, and the galvanized outriggers connecting the ETFE cushions to the primary structure. Together, these two systems perform as a double skin. The undulating surface, composed of 97 ETFE pillows, flows outwards as it reaches the center of the 140ft facade. The geometry of the ETFE pillows was designed to merge with points of connection to the internal substructure. As the ETFE incorporates solar shading, we were able to optimize the aesthetic quality of the building envelope. In addition, because ETFE has a high resistance to tearing, it can deal with very large deflections. The ETFE cushions insulate the interior curtain wall system; therefore, the amount of cold or hot surface radiation is reduced.

317

ETFE foil cushions are inflated with low pressure gas, and provide large areas of transparent cladding. ETFE provides high insulation, excellent acoustics, and resists wind loads. The material captures energy from the sun for heating and lighting. ETFE does not degrade under UV light or pollution, and is self cleaning due to its anti-adhesive properties. The ETFE envelope responds to climatic and environmental changes. Levels of inflation control the amount of light and solar energy that penetrate the building and can alter insular properties. As internal temperatures increase, the air chamber is pressurized reducing the level of light and solar energy that penetrates the envelope. These properties enable the facade to be energy efficient.


INSULATION

SOLAR CONTROL

was chosen for its ability to from

The number of ETFE foil layers is proportional to the R value of the facade system. The U value decreases with an increase in foil layers.

mposed of 97 rds as it 40ft facade. pillows was ints of substructure.

The ETFE cushions insulate the interior curtain wall system; therefore, the amount of cold or hot surface radiation is reduced.

The ETFE envelope responds to climatic and environmental changes. Levels of inflation control the amount of light and GSAPP l Columbia University solar energy that penetrate the building Architecture Technology 1 l Fall 2011 and can alter insular properties. ETFE As Facade : Design and Construction Jordan Anderson, Della Krantz, Hana Lee, Melodie Y internal temperatures increase, the air chamber is pressurized reducing the level of light and solar energy that INSULATI penetrates the envelope. These DESIGN INTENT The numbe An inflated ETFE system was chosen for properties enable the facade to be proportiona the Red Hook Hotel due to its ability to energy efficient. system. The provide superior insulation from

PILLOW HOT

solar shading, he aesthetic lope. In as a high n deal with

Brooklyn’s winter weather.

increase in

The undulating surface, composed of 97 ETFE pillows, flows outwards as it reaches the center of the 140ft facade. The geometry of the ETFE pillows was designed to merge with points of connection to the internal substructure.

The ETFE c curtain wall amount of c reduced.

As the ETFE incorporates solar shading, we were able to optimize the aesthetic quality of the building envelope. In addition, because ETFE has a high resistance to tearing, it can deal with very large deflections.

PLAN DETAIL

SCALE : 3/8” = 1’-0 ”

A

A’

Architectural Technology I | ETFE Facade System | 2011 |

318


WATERPROOFING LAYER LAYER WATERPROOFING

BALLAST BALLAST SEPARATING SEPARATING

FIREPROOFINGINSULATION INSULATION FIREPROOFING

ETFE FOIL ETFE FOIL

STEEL OUT-RIGGER STEEL OUT-RIGGER

WATERPROOFING LAYER WATERPROOFING LAYER

EPDM NYLON EPDM NYLON

M M

T T ss a a

T T m m cc

E E tr tr lo lo d d

319


ETFE FOIL

STEEL OUT-RIGGER

EPDM NYLON

MATERIALS The primary structure of our facade system is composed of a steel frame, concrete floor slabs, CMU (waterproofed), metal panel, insulation, dry wall, embed, glass curtain wall, and alumnium aluminum tubing. cushions, The components of the secondary system are the pneumatic ETFE cusions, manufactured by Vector Foiltec, and the galvanized outriggers connecting the ETFE cusions to the primary structure. Together, these two systems perform as a double skin.

ETFE foil cushions are inflated with low pressure gas, and provide large areas of transparent cladding. ETFE provides high insulation, excellent acoustics, and resists wind loads. The material captures energy from the sun for heating and lighting. ETFE does not degrade under UV light or polution, anti-adhesive properties. pollution, and is self cleaning due to its anti-adehsive

Architectural Technology I | ETFE Facade System | 2011 |

320



T E X T


323


324


325


326


327


328


329


330


331


332


333


Jameson’s Theory of Postmodernism: Architecture as a Mechanism for Spatial Perception Melodie Yashar History of Architectural Theory Fall 2012

I

n the first chapter of Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, Fredric Jameson describes architecture as the leading cultural artifact to demonstrate the new conditions of postmodernism from those of modernism proper—for it is within architecture that Jameson finds “modifications in aesthetic production” to be most “dramatically visible.” 1 At the conclusion of the first chapter Jameson analyzes the Westin Bonaventure Hotel in Los Angeles as a cultural artifact of postmodernism, which he concludes can only be done through active observation and interpretation of the signs of the building, rather than projecting shared traits and characteristics of postmodern architecture towards a faulty vision of a homogenized style. 2 For Jameson, stylistic projections and classification take on a homogenizing effect—moments and characteristics of sameness are celebrated in favor of moments of difference in works of architecture. As a literary and cultural theorist, Jameson consistently mediates and reevaluates his argumentative approach towards postmodern theory—a project that he admits to be an act 1 Other cultural and aesthetic artifacts that Jameson analyzes in his work include art, photography and cinema, among others. Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. 3rd ed. (Durham: Duke UP, 1990) 2 2 As will be discussed, the analysis of the cultural artifact (the building, in our case) is the heart and substance of his theory of postmodernism.

of historicizing his contemporary period, in a time where a lack of historicity or sense of cultural narrative appears to be the singlemost dominant trait. Responding to the lack of a coherent cultural narrative devoid of a set of stylistic characteristics or defining traits, Jameson poses postmodernism as a “cultural dominant,” and he admits that his historical analysis should be conceived as nothing more concrete than a “periodizing hypothesis.”

U

ltimately, Jameson’s reading of the Bonaventure Hotel is dually the means by which he describes the postmodern condition, but also the mechanism by which he critiques it and proposes a new means for the individual to navigate a new “mutation” of built space, which he refers to as postmodern “hyperspace.” His answer is to develop a viable form of large-scale cognitive mapping to better understand postmodern hyperspace—itself a projection uncannily aligned with modern technologies such as the interconnectivity of the web and social media. 3 Fredric Jameson looks to architecture as a means for understanding the postmodern condition, but also in posing his argument for a collective cognitive map, presents its potential as a mechanism to mediate against that condition. The question that lingers for readers today is whether our contemporary technological systems— architectural, computational, and otherwise— have managed to dispel and resolve Jameson’s 3 Fredric Jameson, 42

334


senses of disillusionment and disorientation, and what these systems communicate or signify to us in terms of the new ways we perceive built form and architectural space. A Loss of Historicity

J

ameson discusses postmodernism not as a style, but as a dominant cultural form indicative of late capitalism. Jameson insists that his account of postmodernism is not a stylistic description or a gesture towards stylistic qualification, but rather an attempt to historicize (what was, in 1986) his contemporary condition. He neither argues for a postmodernist style or school of architecture, nor does he intend to historicize the inception of postmodern architecture as a direct or causal response to architectural movements of years prior. Rather, what Jameson suggests over the course of his argument is that postmodernism’s “one uniquely privileged symptom” is a loss of historicity, or a sense of “historical deafness”—which as he explains, in and of itself could scarcely connote the presence of a distinct historical period or suggest its underlying traits and features. 4 The question then becomes how one is to conceive of a coherent historical project on postmodernism if the very conception of historical periodization it what proves to be most problematic. Hence, instead of portraying postmodernism as a historical period or movement following linearly from the aesthetic tendencies of modernism, Jameson portrays it more loosely as a “cultural dominant.” 5 Instead of seeking a coherent historical narrative for postmodernism to follow, the argument for postmodernism as “cultural dominant” enables Jameson to explore and read the critical cultural and artistic works within his project without feeling as if they need to share an underlying narrative trajectory. Indeed, in writing Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism Jameson strove to capture nothing more than what he conceived to be his contemporary condition, or zeitgeist, if it even could be considered that. Postmodernism theory for Jameson becomes an “effort to take the temperature of the age… in a situation in which we are not even sure there is so coherent a thing as an ‘age’… or ‘current situation’

4 Ibid, x 5 Ibid, 4

335

any longer.” 6 The conception of the “cultural dominant” is a theoretical approach which “allows for the presence and coexistence of a range of very different, yet subordinate, features”—enabling Jameson to investigate without fear of contradicting or remaining incompatible with a single, underlying argument for a cohesive system or logic. 7 For as Jameson evaluates in stages the “semiautonomous and relatively independent traits” of his account of postmodernism, we come to see that postmodernism theory is as much about embracing a loss of historicity as a dialectical challenge as it is about documenting its range of traits and qualifications—for one cannot simply document a series of occurrences much in the same way other periods have been historicized in the past. 8

I

t seems interesting then, despite Jameson’s opinions on the lack of a coherent historical narrative or trajectory in postmodernism, that he briefly considers the historical transition from modernism to postmodernism before engaging in his more consequential reading and analysis of the Bonaventure Hotel. Jameson acknowledges that much of the perceived transition between modern and postmodern had to do with the academic institutionalization and canonization of the modern movement at some point in the late 1950s. 9 Jameson states this is “surely one of the most plausible explanations for the emergence of postmodernism itself ”—and so Jameson, writing in 1986, begins his argument by stating that a “mutation in the sphere of culture has rendered such attitudes archaic.” 10 Culture for Jameson is a means for understanding the postmodern condition, and Jameson poses architecture as the most relevant and precise cultural phenomenon to exemplify a radical break from modernity to the new conditions of postmodernity. 11 6 Ibid, xi 7 Ibid, 4-5 8 Ibid, 4 9 That is, academic institutionalization and canonization clearly delineated the tenets and theoretical positions of modern architecture, in addition to pronouncing its underlying stylistic traits and historical development. 10 He then describes postmodernism as either a radical break or a waning from the modern movement—perhaps originating as a critique of modernism’s aesthetic or ideological principles. Fredric Jameson, 1-4 11 We must remember that Jameson is primarily a literary and


He argues that particularly in architectural discourse, “postmodernist positions in architecture have been inseparable from an implacable critique of architectural high modernism and of Frank Lloyd Wright or the so-called international style.” 12 Just as we, as readers, cannot help but validate (or object to) Jameson’s analyses of postmodernism by referencing and reflecting upon the resonances of his theory in our society today—the architectural ideologies, attitudes and positions of modernity are the starting point to which Jameson’s cultural analysis of postmodernism then responds. The Shortcomings of Stylistic Qualification in Architecture

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ameson claims that in high modernism the building was conceived of as a “virtual sculpture” divorced and radically disjunctive from the context of the city and the neighborhood culture in which it appeared. 13 Admittedly, he offers little support for these generalizations, but it is nonetheless fairly unobjectionable that merging conditions at the site level was not a first priority or concern for the international style. Jameson broadly describes the elevated, conceptually based forms and values of high modernism as “utopian,” and casually describes the impulses that fueled the modern movement as “prophetic elitism” and “authoritarian” without much evidence to support. 14 This runs in stark contrast to postmodernism, which strives for “populist” works of architecture—as opposed to the “elite austerities” and values of modernism. 15 Realistically however, a commercial development such as the Bonaventure Hotel would be overlooked by mainstream architectural discourse for the precise reason that it is a ‘popular’ building—and I would argue that this discriminatory approach to the reputation of the architect, John Portman, and the commercial nature of the building is a true bias within architectural theory and practice. So the cultural theorist—not an architectural historian or critic. As will be discussed, as a relative outsider to the discipline, Jameson’s thoughts on how the experiential qualities of architecture can serve as a metaphor for collective spatial perception resonate as all the more poignant. 12 Fredric Jameson, 2 13 Ibid 14 Ibid 15 Ibid

fact that Jameson chose the Bonaventure was an ingenious choice precisely because it enabled him to evaluate the building as a relative outsider to the architectural discipline. A professional distance from architecture theory and practice enables Jameson to maintain the necessary critical distance for his analysis. For example, he neither praises nor does he reprimand its stylistic or aesthetic choices. He is unconcerned with affiliation to a critical or stylistic group, nor is he concerned with canonizing the work within the discipline. 16 In the compiled version of Jameson’s work published after 1986 Jameson juxtaposes the exteriors of Portman’s Westin Bonaventure Hotel with Le Corbusier’s “Unite d’Habitation” by placing the photographs opposite one another in a single spread. 17 In architectural discourse this registers as a rather hyperbolic comparison—differences in style, historical period and not to mention the reputability and validity of the architect himself render differences in the aesthetic programs of the two projects grossly apparent. 18 Notably, Jameson does not present the buildings as definitive or exhaustive examples of the periods; instead, the comparison magnifies Jameson’s cultural analysis of postmodernism as the coexistence of a range of different features and attitudes found within a single cultural dominant, as opposed to a historical analysis centered on conveying a limited number 16 Intuitively, I find that architectural discourse would be more concerned and invested in the development of style and its resultant aesthetics. In particular this calls to mind Patrick Schumacher’s body of work on Parametricism as an emergent style of contemporary (and future) architecture. 17 Frederic Jameson, 40-41 18 Perhaps the necessity of defining the architectural style and aesthetic of an era holds greater significance than Jameson suggests—and perhaps there is greater coherence in the characteristics of popular, commercial architecture than Jameson is willing to see. There is no question that while Portman was designing the Westin Bonaventure Hotel in the early eighties, the (early) careers of architects such as Richard Meier, Robert Venturi, Renzo Piano, Eisenman and Gehry were simultaneously coming to be. While I do not think Jameson would question the vast differences between the aforementioned architects and Portman, one might entertain the notion that it is a bit overextended and unrepresentative to envision all these practitioners as working within the scope of a single, overarching cultural dominant. I explore the issue of the individual architect within the totalizing scope of a historical era’s stylistics in this paper’s upcoming section.

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of tenets within a cohesive style or architectural movement. Rather, Jameson’s bold approach in a theoretical topic untouched by architectural historians asserts his inventiveness in ultimately demonstrating how the ideas on spatial perception that fuel architectural programs and built form can be representative of an entire historical era. argues that qualifying a work of J ameson architecture as representative of a particular style

does indeed historicize that object within its proper context, but also radically deduces the work to the qualifying characteristics of the style in an overall homogenizing gesture. 19 Jameson demonstrates this approach is particularly problematic for postmodern architecture, where aesthetic production has become “integrated into commodity production generally,” and the production of goods now assigns and dictates an “increasingly essential structural function and position to aesthetic innovation and experimentation.” 20 So while modernism demonstrated a critique of the commodity and demonstrated an effort to transcend it, postmodern architecture is “the consumption of sheer commodification as a process”—where commodification has become the vehicle of aesthetic production. 21 What this signifies is the integration of architecture with economic and capitalist systems of production; in turn, all cultural artifacts are commodities for consumption by the masses. Jameson writes that of all the arts, architecture is the closest constitutively to the economic: “it will therefore not be surprising to find the extraordinary flowering of the new postmodern architecture grounded in the patronage of multinational business, whose expansion and development is strictly contemporaneous with it.” 22 He continues to argue that this relationship transcends whom has financed which project and for what reasons. Indeed, there is no underestimating the shaping power of economic forces in the construction industry, and perhaps Jameson’s critical response regarding vernacular architecture as a supposed call to “difference” 19 This mode of analysis can be to the benefit of a work of architecture whose architect identifies with a particular school of thought (and sees the work as demonstrative of its theories), and reversely, to the detriment of an architect whose work is mistakenly interpreted to be of a particular school of thought, resulting in a series of wrongful projections of the work, to which an academic audience could nonetheless respond positively and in agreement. 20 Frederic Jameson, 4-5 21 Ibid, x 22 Ibid, 5

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from mainstream, commercial architecture arises in response to such ideas. 23 Briefly put, in “The Constraints of Postmodernism” Jameson responds to issues raised in Kenneth Frampton’s “Towards a Critical Regionalism” by arguing that the call to “difference” asserted by proponents of regional architecture is itself a product of the all-consuming nature of multi-national capitalism. 24 Frampton asserts the need to remain critical of the local and the regional, while simultaneously remaining critical of an overly prescriptive universalism. Jameson argues in turn that regionalist architecture emerges after the influence of capitalist production has already infiltrated and extended its reach to the provincial town. He discusses the value of pluralism or the call to “difference” within regionalist architecture as a symptom of “post-Fordism,” where capitalist standardization has extended to regional and individual markets in order to appeal to the local market’s wants and needs. Here, Jameson’s view of late capitalism is of an all-consuming, totalizing system (it would seem)—which not even regionalist architects have managed to shake the influence of.

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The Agency of the Architect within the Postmodern Period

ather than thoroughly evaluating the stylistic developments of postmodern architecture or the historical lineage leading to the postmodern condition, Jameson frames his cultural analysis as a “periodizing hypothesis,” and argues that discovering an underlying genealogy whereby the conditions of postmodernism emerge logically is inappropriate for postmodernism theory. 25 He

23 Kenneth Frampton, “Towards a Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance.” The Anti-Aesthetic. Essays on Postmodern Culture. Ed. Hal Foster. (Seattle: Bay Press, 1973). Fredric Jameson, “The Constraints of Postmodernism,” Rethinking Architecture: A Reader in Cultural Theory. Ed. Neil Leach. (London and New York: Routledge, 1997) 24 The notion of critical regionalism in architectural theory, often credited to the writings of Kenneth Frampton, stems from the tension between globalization (often discussed as “universalization”) and regionalism (often seen as limited and provincial in scope) in architectural styles. 25 Nonetheless Jameson has no intention of describing the present moment as “sheer heterogeneity” or “random difference.” Indeed, he writes that it is only in the light of “some conception of a dominant cultural logic or hegemonic norm that genuine difference could be measured and assessed.” Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, 3-6


writes, “I have argued elsewhere that all isolated or discrete cultural analysis always involves a buried or repressed theory of historical periodization,” and a historicizing impulse conflicts with concerns for linear history and the progression between cultural movements or stages—which, as noted earlier, is a methodology incompatible with the postmodern notion of a loss of historicity. 26 Jameson is neither being timid nor tentative in describing his analysis as a “periodizing hypothesis,” but in so doing he exposes the weaknesses of cultural theories that attempt to portray contemporary or historical conditions as totalizing, all-consuming systems: …the more powerful the vision of some increasingly total system or logic – the Foucault of the prisons book is the obvious example – the more powerless the reader comes to feel. Insofar as the theorist wins, therefore, by constructing an increasingly closed and terrifying machine, to that very degree he loses, since the critical capacity of his work is thereby paralyzed, and the impulses of negation and revolt, not to speak of those of social transformation, are increasingly perceived as vain and trivial in the face of the model itself. 27

Despite the fact that Jameson primarily addresses contemporary cultural theorists and historians in this statement, embedded in his language are ideas significant to the notion of inspiring change or action through critical theory. Jameson demonstrates the importance of striving for a working historical theory or “system” that maintains critical capacity—that maintains the potential for an individual agent to negate, revolt, and transform the social sphere. Not only is Jameson invested in the capacity for social action to transform a society engrossed in an all-consuming capitalism, but he is also invested in the creation of a malleable cultural and architectural theory that would allow for revolutionary practitioners and thinkers to transform the discipline. argument bears interesting connotations J ameson’s within architectural discourse—let us momentarily

supplant Jameson’s “visions” and “works” of contemporary theory within the passage with those of architectural theory. His critique addresses the role of the individual practitioner in architecture; in confronting a totalizing theory of the present, how does the individual practitioner respond? 26 Ibid, 3 27 Ibid, 5

Does she comply in powerlessness, or does it inspire negation and revolt? Jameson’s argument for the critical capacity of cultural theory calls into question whether a single architectural theory of the present can remain compatible with the individual architect’s capacity for negation, revolution and transformation of that theory, prevailing style, or aesthetic, for that matter. Far from debilitating the architect, I find that Jameson’s critique of isolated cultural analyses with totalizing visions of the present are a call to engage more rigorously in cultural and aesthetic discourses, and in the analyses of those culture’s artifacts (buildings, art, film, etc.) even more readily and aggressively. Jameson claims that the concept of postmodernism “is not merely contested, it is also internally conflicted and contradictory.” 28 But Jameson qualifies his statement in claiming that every time we use the term “postmodernism” or refer to its attributes “we are under the obligation to rehearse those inner contradictions and to stage those representational inconsistencies and dilemmas... Postmodernism is not something we can settle once and for all and then use with a clear conscience. The concept, if there is one, has to come at the end, and not at the beginning, of our discussions of it.” 29 The Bonaventure Hotel: A New Mode of Spatial Perception

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ameson culminates his argument with an architectural reading of the Westin Bonaventure Hotel in Los Angeles, built by architect and developer John Portman. He poses the Bonaventure Hotel as an artifact of postmodern culture, and performs his analysis by describing the architectural qualities of the building within its urban landscape. The reading touches on aspects of program, materiality, circulation, and the psycho-physiological effects of the building upon its users. The analysis demonstrates it is only through reading and analyzing the semiotic signs of a building from which a precise conception of the postmodern may be tangible. 30 Jameson begins by describing the Bonaventure Hotel as a “popular” work of architecture, as opposed to the “elite austerities” of modernism. Instead of injecting an elevated, distinct and “Utopian” form language, the Bonaventure “respects the vernacular of the American city fabric” and implements in its form the signs and

28 Ibid, xxii 29 Ibid

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semantics of commercial commodification. 30 The Bonaventure Hotel demonstrates a disjunction from the surrounding city—though one markedly different from a building in the International Style, for example. The difference being, according to Jameson, that the International Style was fueled by a desire and a vision for a “larger protopolitical Utopian transformation,” while in postmodernism and particularly in the case of the Bonaventure Hotel, transformative effects are neither expected nor desired. 31

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he façade and circulation of the Bonaventure become the instruments by which Jameson argues for the autoreferentiality of postmodern culture, “which tends to turn upon itself and designate its own cultural production as its content”—but also as a metaphor for the disillusionment and disorientation of the individual within an era lacking a coherent cultural narrative. 32 Jameson describes the reflective glass skin of the Bonaventure as a force that “repels the city outside,” and disorients the viewer by confusing what would be the skin of the building with an unsettling vision of “distorted images” created by the building’s immediate surroundings. 33 Jameson examines the elevators and escalators of the building as more than what they function as—instead he interprets them as new reflexive signs and emblems of movement within a building—their functionality is demonstrated auto-referentially in the architecture. In supplanting the need to walk through the building, these mechanisms or signs of movement radically transform the way in which circulation happens. 34 They come to supplant an entirely new notion of movement within a building; for no longer may we understand “our physical trajectories through such buildings as virtual narratives or stories,” where the experience of our individual movement through the building constructs a unique and singular dynamic path. 35 Instead, “the narrative stroll has been underscored, symbolized, reified and replaced by a transportation machine which becomes the allegorical signifier of that older promenade we are no longer allowed to conduct on our own.” 36 Indeed, the notion of “allowance” 30 Ibid, 39 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid, 42 33 Ibid 34 Ibid 35 Ibid 36 Ibid

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is entirely valid, as there appears to be no other means of navigating the space of the hotel lobby— the occupant has no choice but to indulge, or to consume, the choices that are presented to her. The loss of the individual’s personal narrative trajectory within the space of the hotel is the metaphorical basis for Jameson’s argument for the loss of a coherent cultural narrative in postmodernism. The individual’s freedom to navigate the narrative promenade (an icon of Walter Benjamin’s analysis of Paris, for example) is supplanted within the Bonaventure with a disorienting variety of allegories of transportation (elevators and escalators that move us rather than facilitating how we would like to navigate the space)—with the underlying metaphor being that coherent architectural space is a signifier for a coherent sense of narrativedriven history. Thus, far from accepting the lack of a coherent cultural narrative, Jameson presents the task of postmodernism to be to establish a new narrative trajectory, to regain a sense of geographic location within the fragmented and disorienting spaces of its architecture, and finally to establish an enhanced capacity to navigate postmodern hyperspace in order to ultimately restore the severed identity of the postmodern individual. describes the interior of the Bonaventure J ameson as a postmodern “hyperspace” and posits the

problem of navigation within this new environment by our inability to perceptually conceive of the ramifications of this new mutated space. While Jameson interprets the mirror-glass exterior of the Bonaventure Hotel as representing the glazed superficiality of the commodity in late capitalism, the disorienting interior exemplifies problems of mentally decoding and perceptually inhabiting such an environment. Within the postmodern urban environment, Jameson’s solution is to develop a viable form of cognitive mapping to resist the otherwise totally homogenizing space of global multi-nationalism. He explains that postmodern hyperspace, being a mutation in space as we have previously conceived of it, has debilitated the capacity of the individual human body to “locate itself, to organize its immediate surroundings perceptually, and cognitively to map its position in a mappable external world.” 37 The new hyperspace has instigated new experiences of disorientation, and as people we “do not yet possess the perceptual equipment to match this new hyperspace… because our perceptual habits were formed in that older 37 Ibid, 44


kind of space… the space of high modernism.” 38 Jameson describes the radical disjunction between the body and the built environment as a condition most indicative of postmodern experience. The interior of the Bonaventure Hotel becomes the symbol for the “imperative to grow new organs, to expand our sensorium and our body to some new, yet unimaginable, perhaps ultimately impossible, dimensions” that would enable us to perceptually conceive and navigate postmodern hyperspace. 39 While Jameson is not entirely clear what the ramifications of this new hyperspace will be for everyday life, the most crucial realization is that our current faculties will not suffice in understanding the ramifications of postmodernism as a new mutation of space—both in terms of experiencing the postmodern building on a corporeal level and in terms of perceiving those spaces mentally or within the so-called “mind’s eye.” Contemporary Cognitive Mapping

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ameson demonstrates that the bewildering experience of the Bonaventure hotel’s interior derives from the postmodern individual’s mental incapacity to perceptually conceive of postmodern hyperspace. Jameson’s notion of the cognitive map is presented as a solution to the postmodern condition functioning not only on the scale of the individual’s neurological capability to perceive and navigate architectural space—but also at the global scale, functioning as a method to understand the related networks of multi-national capitalism. Jameson explains that postmodern hyperspace can even more broadly symbolize “the incapacity of our minds, at least at present, to map the great global multinational and decentered communicational network in which we find ourselves caught as individual subjects.” 40 Jameson argues that a coherent sense of navigational awareness enables one to properly perceive these global “communicational networks.” 41 Just as Jameson looks back to the architecture of modernity to validate the transformations in space and spatial perception which he argues for in postmodernism, changes in our contemporary society may offer similar clarity to Jameson’s notion of large-scale cognitive mapping as a solution to the postmodern condition. I believe Jameson sought a heightened 38 Ibid, 38 39 Ibid, 39 40 Ibid, 44 41 Ibid

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type of mental processing by which an individual or a collective could acquire and recall information about spatial knowledge and experience, enabling the “mind’s eye” to visualize and perceptually inhabit that space—and thus eliminate the kind of disorientation which Jameson experienced from the Bonaventure in the eighties (the interior of which, I might add, would hardly resonate as a bewildering experience for us today). I would argue that a number of contemporary technologies have already addressed, if not solved the demands and desires of Jameson’s cognitive map by evoking in their basic structure, means of navigation, access, and infinite scope the ability to accumulate enormous amounts of information about ourselves, the environments which shape us, and the systems which connect us. as the escalators and elevators of the J ust Bonaventure eliminated the singular narrative

trajectory of Benjamin’s Parisian promenade, the connectivity of the internet has utterly exaggerated the lack of a coherent cultural narrative which Jameson first noted as characteristic of postmodernism. In many ways, the internet may be conceived of as a true hyperspace (perhaps the definitive hyperspace)—for it is ultimately a space-less, non-narrative based experience full of limitless commodities and advertising. The internet provides its own means of navigation in a completely dimensionless network of connectivity, where the experience is entirely virtual and the only navigational choices presented to the user happen with the click of the mouse. The coherent narrative trajectory of Benjamin’s promenade has been eradicated by a system which is ethereal, non-tangible, and spatial only to the extent that the knowledge it provides us with heightens our perceptual and intellectual understanding of the world around us. At first, a system such as the web might seem to exacerbate Jameson’s issues of disorientation with the architectural spaces of postmodernism (and afterward)—for it hosts non-linear experiences exclusively (any one hyperlink will take you to an infinite number of other hyperlinks) rather than experiences with clearly destined and finite narrative trajectories. But being a virtual construct, the system is already abstract and imaginary—and I would argue that the capacity to conceptually perceive of postmodern hyperspace (and perhaps the spaces of subsequent eras as well) does not depend on the existence of a built environment or building, but on the effects of the experience. What the internet has granted is access to a reservoir of information and a constantly

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updated network of data organized for users to learn and know more about themselves and their everyday environments than they would otherwise be able to do—and such are the benefits of largescale cognitive mapping. Instead of a destined or anticipated narrative trajectory for all users, the emphasis of web interactivity and experience shifts to extreme personalization and adaptability—the user does as she desires. 42 The clear directionality of the Parisian promenade, the allegorical escalators of the Bonaventure that move visitors passively from one location to another, and finally the ethereal exchange of data and information on the web are all methods of navigating public and architectural space (though not all in traditional built form), and each host unique ramifications and for how these spaces are perceptually perceived by the individuals of their respective eras. correlates the postmodern individual’s J ameson inability to perceptually perceive postmodern

hyperspace with the disorientation of the Bonaventure Hotel’s interior in order to demonstrate not only the psycho-physiological disillusionment of the postmodern individual, but also the transformative effects of architecture in affecting how individuals within an era collectively perceive and experience space. His discussion of the Bonaventure becomes the point of departure from which Jameson demonstrates how we spatially perceive and inhabit our contemporary world, and more significantly, how architecture critically shapes and molds collective ideas of spatial perception. Moreover, it is only when architecture (even a popular building such as Portman’s) is addressed in the realm of criticism and architectural discourse that an understanding of how it is that we navigate and inhabit contemporary architecture comes about. This relationship between the built object and architectural theory and criticism holds the potential to engage the question of how it is that a collective, contemporary society perceptually perceives the built spaces that surround us.

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n approaching a theory of postmodernism, Jameson describes that what needs to be maintained is “the wit to seize on [postmodernism’s] very uncertainty as its first clue”—for he does not

42 We might recall Microsoft’s infamous advertising slogan, “where do you want to go today?” which analogizes the experience of technology and computing as a journey or a manner of traveling through a spatial construct.


refute the notion of postmodernism as a continually contested and dialectical cultural concept. 43 Instead Jameson argues for the significance of rehearsing the term’s innate contradictions, and its range of traits and attributes every time we use it. Rather than projecting shared traits and characteristics of postmodern architecture towards a faulty vision of a homogenized style, Jameson demonstrates his theory of postmodernism to be a live, continually changing and malleable theory that can only be grasped or approached through active observation and interpretation of the signs of a building. Ultimately, Jameson’s reading of the Bonaventure Hotel as a cultural artifact of postmodernism becomes the means by which we understand the postmodern condition, but also the mechanism by which Jameson mediates that condition—specifically, in proposing new modes of cognitive mapping in order to better navigate a new “mutation” in built space.

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he suggestion is that a new architecture (virtual, physical, or otherwise) could dispel the perceptual ambiguity of global communicational networks, and enable the individual to better perceive or cognitively map the economic and cultural forces that continually structure and mold the experience of our external world—enabling the identity of the postmodern individual to be found once again. Jameson’s account of postmodernism demonstrates a transformation in how it is that we spatially perceive and inhabit our contemporary world, and more significantly, how architecture reveals collective ideas of spatial perception. His reading of the Bonaventure Hotel demonstrates how the architecture of an era communicates collective ideas of inhabitance, navigation, and the way in which we perceive architectural form.

Portman, Interior of the Bonaventure Hotel

43 Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism…, 44

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Psychophysiological Space-Form in the Work of Neutra and Schindler Melodie Yashar History of Architecture II Spring 2012

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t first glance Richard Neutra (18921970) and Rudolph Michael Schindler (1887-1953) might be misunderstood as equal contributors to the School of Southern California in the period between 1920-1950. Their backgrounds are remarkably similar: both were Viennese-architects who studied in the academic lineage of Otto Wagner’s Technische Hochscule, both looked to Adolf Loos as a mentor, both replicated the journey Loos had completed in coming to Chicago, both served as apprentices in the office of Frank Lloyd Wright, both designed residences for the same client, Dr. Phillip Lovell, and had even shared a residence in Los Angeles at Kings Road by the time they had relocated to Los Angeles in 1926. Both architects were drawn from Vienna by the same fascination for the raw power of American cities. Not surprisingly however, their common backgrounds are misleading, as the two architects’ careers are indeed radically different. In a critical comparison of the two architects within the cultural and social context of modern architecture in Los Angeles between 1920-1950, we might look to the reasons Neutra and Schindler decided to begin practicing in the area in order to determine how their projects ultimately contributed to (or perhaps, managed to reinvent) the regional vernacular of the time.

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critical turning point in the history of the two architects was in 1932, when the Museum of Modern Art’s “Modern Architecture International Exhibition” curated by Philip Johnson and HneryRussell Hitchcock definitively coined Neutra

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an International Style architect, featuring his work along with Mies, Gropius, Le Corbusier, Wright and others. 1 Why it is that Schindler did not gain a place beside other early modernists is to many critics astonishing, and to others a qualified albeit critical discrepancy that came to distinguish the work of the architects from one another. 2 What remained shared throughout their careers was an architectural emphasis on the interior, and both Neutra and Schindler’s theoretical writings and architectural projects demonstrate an awareness of how the constructed environment (particularly the residence) contributes to the inhabitant’s psychophysiological well-being. Both Neutra and Schindler’s work are guided by the conception of how a building or a room totally controls and surrounds the individual, and the fact that the experiential and sensory qualities of a space are interpreted by the inhabitant’s physiological, psychic and emotional responses to the environment. 1 Arthur Drexler and Thomas S. Hines. The Architecture of Richard Neutra: from International Style to California Modern. New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1982. p. 19 2 Johnson would later come to excuse his casual overlooking of Schindler, and acknowledged his part in Schindler being “badly overlooked.” In the exhibition catalog Johnson causally labeled Schindler as a follower of Wright despite the fact that he had been trained in Europe, and in short did not see him as a clear example of the International Style. Ironically, much of the information that Johnson had received in regards to Schindler was from Neutra, who supposedly “badmouthed everybody—especially Schindler.” James Steele, R.M. Schindler: An Exploration of Space. Ed Peter Gossel. Los Angeles: Taschen, 2005. p. 12


These responses may in turn be attributed to the relative architectural success of the project, both in instigating a certain phenomenological awareness and in enabling the inhabitant to comfortably assume a particular lifestyle; the works of Neutra and Schindler may very well express as much about qualities of life and living as they do about stylistics and technique in architecture.

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Origins: a Pilgrimage from Vienna

here is no question of the great influence that Loos held on both Neutra and Schindler as a mentor within the Vienna Technische Hochschule. In Adolf Loos, Gustav Kunstler describes how “Loos’ interest in clients appeared [or was manifest] in the design of his buildings and interiors” and his “penetrating understanding of human needs were throughout his life the main impulse for all his actions.” 3 These concerns demonstrate a vested interest in constructing effective and suitable spaces for a client, lessons learned by both Neutra and Schindler. Loos’ admiration of American technology as well as his dislike of ornament (as expressed in his essay “Ornament and Crime”) also made deep impressions on the architects. 4 They both held a desire to go to America to learn and experience new construction techniques, epitomized in the skyscrapers of Chicago. Schindler left Vienna in 1914, before the war descended upon Europe. When Schindler reached Chicago Neutra was enrolled in the Royal Artillery. By 1925 the Neutras arrived at Schindler’s Kings Road House in Los Angeles and requested to rent a room within the residence.

Neutra, Lovell House

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he critical reception of Wright’s Wasmuth portfolio in 1914 cannot be underestimated for Neutra, Schindler and indeed for all the progenitors of the modern movement. In this period Neutra discusses in his correspondences to Schindler, already in Chicago, how engrossed he had become with the portfolio. Neutra writes of Wright’s buildings: “Besides their comfort, it seems to me [Wright’s] buildings combine everything that is of value to human beings.” 5 Already we find evidence of Neutra’s concern for the well-being of the individual within his environment, and the 3 Ester McCoy. Vienna to Los Angeles: Two Journeys. Santa Monica, California: Arts & Architecture Press, 1979. p. 21 4 Judith Sheine, R.M. Schindler. London: Phaidon Press, 2001. p.12 5 Ester McCoy, Richard Neutra. New York: G. Braziller, 1960. p. 222

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construction of the home and hearth as an integral component to the lifestyle of that individual. Neutra continues to explain, “I would like to know more about American architecture than just the names Richardson, Sullivan, Wright. Help me in this! Send me something to study! I believe as you do that the new objectives will come from America.” 6 The work of their burgeoning careers would soon prove that Neutra accepted from Wright the significance of the open plan, Schindler was inspired by the “interpenetration of inner and outer space,” and both architects accepted the importance of giving allegiance to the surrounding landscape. 7

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rguably the finest and undoubtedly the most extensive body of work in the careers of the two architects are the privately commissioned residences that they built in California between 1925-1950. 8 In these works, Neutra demonstrated an interest in man’s physiological needs and was deeply concerned about the well-being of “man, the individual, and biological organism” living in a world which he saw as “increasingly hostile.” 9 It became architecture’s role to ensure the well-being of the individual and his most comfortable or suitable lifestyle. In these projects, Schindler strove to create poignant and meaningful interior spaces that controlled climate, light and mood in order to heighten the experiential qualities of the space and again, to promote the well-being of the inhabitants. But moreover, the clients and commissions they received define a social history of “liberal, middleclass American aspirations” working themselves out during the Great Depression, though in the context of “the one place in America where ‘dreams’ were supposed to be lived”—Los Angeles. 10 For both architects Los Angeles was still a frontier without “constraining architectural traditions” and “without major figures in architecture marking a path.” 11 They saw it as a place where they could experiment freely and leave their mark on a regional vernacular still being developed. 6 McCoy, Richard Neutra, p. 222 7 Ibid. p. 9 8 Critics have not hesitated to note the weakness of Neutra’s larger projects, particularly those in which he collaborated with Robert Alexander in the latter part of his career between 1949 and 1958. Drexler and Hines, p. 23 9 Richard Hughes and Richard J. Neutra. “Interview with Richard J. Neutra.” Indiana UP. Transition, No. 29 (Feb. - Mar., 1967), pp. 22-34 < http://www.jstor.org/stable/2934234> p. 22 10 Drexler and Hines, p. 19 11 Sheine, p. 7

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Schindler, Lovell House


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Two Lovell Commissions

chindler’s Lovell Beach-House (1926) and Neutra’s Town-House (1929), otherwise known as the Lovell Health House, are polemical in style and architectural approach—yet manage to validate the theories and arguments of their authors to exist as good living spaces. Both maintain the notion that architecture constructs and is integral to the maintenance of one’s lifestyle and wellbeing. The client himself, Dr. Phillip Lovell, was a “naturopath” and this undoubtedly held influence on the design. The discussion of the reasons for why Dr. Lovell later commissioned Neutra instead of Schindler is as complex and controversial as the reasons for why the friendship and professional collaboration between two architects (who at one point cohabitated) ultimately ended. 12 After being unimpressed with the house that the Lovells had commissioned of Frank Lloyd Wright, they subsequently met Schindler and became close friends with him. In a conversation with Ester McCoy, Mrs. Lovell explains, “[Wright] wasn’t very kind… we liked Schindler better… Schindler incorporated all of Phillip’s ideas in the cabin. We thought he had the genius of Wright.” 13 In the case of the Lovell Beach House, the design process was paralleled by the publication of six articles in Dr. Lovell’s “Care of the Body” column of the Los Angeles Times during the spring of 1926. 14 In these articles Lovell advanced his principles for the “dwelling question” and he expounded 12 Thomas S. Hines maintains the opinion that Dr. Lovell assumed both architects were working on the townhouse, since at that time both architects shared a common office. Previously, Schindler had even paid Neutra one-hundred dollars for his help on the Lovell beach house when he first arrived in Los Angeles. Schindler and Neutra collaborated together for some time under the name AGIC—Architectural Group for Industry and Commerce. The final break between Schindler and Neutra was caused by the traveling exhibition of the League of Nations project through Europe, which was presented in Europe only under the name of Neutra. Ester McCoy describes the Lovell town-house as Neutra’s “last handclasp with Schindler.” McCoy, Vienna to Los Angeles… pp. 52-72 13 McCoy, Vienna to Los Angeles… p. 66 14 August E. Sarnitz, “Proportion and Beauty: The Lovell Beach House by R.M. Schindler.” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians , Vol. 45, No. 4 (Dec., 1986), pp. 374-388 <http://www. jstor.org/stable/990208> p. 375

the notion of how a good physical environment is integral to a healthy life. 15 The topics of his articles are: “Ventilation,” “Plumbing and Health,” “About Heating,” “About Lighting,” “About Furniture,” and “Shelter or Playground”—and the architectural emphasis on the articles in the period of commissioning his first residence is not surprising. He explained his views on healthy diet and the benefits of sleeping outdoors— progressive ideas in the era of Prohibition.

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onsequently, Schindler and (later) Neutra adopted the typology of a family vacation house with an entirely innovative attitude—both architects emphasized the necessity of a “health house” to the program: “the building was a very personal setting for a way of life based upon a profound respect for sport, health, and nature.” 16 In an interview with Richard Hughes, Neutra ponders: “What is space to us, psychosomatically, physiologically speaking? It is indeed a question of physiological responses. If you get the feeling of a colossal, rich experience, you have always also the feeling of a large stage [architecture, or the construction of environments] on which this experience has been acquired, has played, to penetrate our organic being.” 17 As a client to both Schindler and Neutra, Dr. Lovell is a critical example for how the two architects designed with the inhabitant’s psychophysiological well-being in mind. In the words of Neutra, “the designer deals primarily with nervous systems;” an analogy befitting for the desires of their physician-client. 18

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iven that the needs and wants of the client are shared, an architectural evaluation of the two houses would seem easy if not for the radically different site conditions, materiality, circulation and (more obviously) if the individual agendas of the two architects were not so diverse. 19 The structure of the Lovell Beach house is a series of five concrete portal frames, heavily cast upon the sandy beach and clearly articulated by supporting concrete floor plates and a flat roof deck. (Figures 9-13) Schindler saw in America conditions that were favorable to the “new architecture,” namely, easy access to 15 Sarnitz, “Proportion and Beauty…” p. 375 16 Ibid. p. 385 17 Hughes and Neutra, p. 29 18 Hughes and Neutra, p. 22 19 It is worth noting that Lovell found Schindler’s design far more suitable for living than he did Neutra’s. To this day descendants of Lovell inhabit the Schindler house while Neutra’s town-house was sold in the 1940s. Sarnitz, “Proportion and Beauty…” p. 380

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technology and fluid means of distribution. 20 Schinder’s concrete frames are prefabricated units inserted into the ocean-side site. The cantilevered third floor and portal frames dominate the overall form of the house, contributing heavily to the typology of the southern California beach house raised up on stilts. 21 Schindler’s drawing of the frame construction alongside the circulation system presents the frames as the static elements and the circulation as the space-penetrating elements of the composition. The interior configuration of the house is highly elaborate—returning to the Loosian idea of the Raumplan. The living area runs through the entire depth of the building and light penetrates the spaces from the south, west and north. 22 Here again we find planar interpenetration, a staggered two-story space, and the clear separation of structure “from the enclosure wrapped around it.” 23

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n the other hand, Neutra’s Lovell house appears to float from the sloped, mountainous landscape that it was built upon. 24 Neutra’s technical thesis for the house was to adapt industrial steel sections for non-industrial use—he intended to frame a residence out of industrial materials. The house developed the “regional vernacular of frame construction” and may be interpreted as “a rhetorical statement in the use of steel.” 25 But stylistically, Neutra’s house is the earliest proponent of the International Style in Southern California. 26 The Lovell House was “white-walled with long horizontal bands of continuous windows and simple taut forms, seeming to float over the ground

20 McCoy, Richard Neutra, p. 11 21 Schindler’s use of a frame system was a clear exception here provoked by the beachfront site and hardly establishes structure as the dominant design element of the building. The frames also provide privacy from the public beach and better views of the ocean. 22 Sarnitz, “Proportion and Beauty…” p. 380 23 Steele, p. 11 24 We can see references and precedents to Wright’s earlier buildings here, particularly the 1917 Odawara country hotel project in Japan, which was to occupy a site similar to the Lovell House. Perhaps Neutra’s Lovell House may be considered an interpretation on Wright’s notion of the picturesque. Drexler and Hines, 49 25 Niel Jackson, “Metal-Frame Houses of the Modern Movement in Los Angeles: Part 1: Developing a Regional Tradition.” Architectural History, Vol. 32 (1989), pp. 152-17 <http://www.jstor.org/ stable/1568566 > p. 154 26 Neutra completed his Lovell House in 1927—before Mies van der Rohe had designed the Barcelona Pavilion or Le Corbusier the Villa Garches. Hughes and Neutra, p. 22

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on thin columns.” 27 His principal instrument or tactic towards the design, in addition to the ribbon windows juxtaposed by the white concrete, is the horizontal parapet. Being the first documented steel-framed house in America and the “first mature example” of the International Style, the project flung Neutra into a prominent position of recognition that led to larger commissions and his photograph on the cover of Time in 1949. 28

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Space-Form and Structure

hile Schindler’s work demonstrates intricately crafted interior spaces that withstand independent from structural expression, Neutra’s work, conforming more readily to the open-plan, emphasizes structure and new approaches towards engineering. This central distinction is perhaps the most significant and determinative for the critical reception of the architects by the art and architectural community. Schindler did not believe that structure could dictate the form and experience of his interior spaces. Instead of an open plan, Shindler’s emphasis is on compartmentalization—an approach that closely approximates Loos’ ideal of the Raumplan. 29 Loos’ complex interior spaces and “intricately articulated sections” were a great influence upon Schindler. 30 James Steele explains, “…the reason for this difference is the use of bearing wall instead of a framework” and Schindler’s rejection of a structural grid is significant when compared to the approach of Neutra, who wholeheartedly embraced the steel frame and its obvious allowances. 31 Neutra’s use of steel and his expression of the exterior of his buildings as a “skin” covering the structural frame aligned him with the “machine aesthetic” of the International Style.

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ven in Schindler’s Beach house, despite the fact that interior walls are non-load bearing and thus neutral to structure, their placement in the plan is oddly aligned with the concrete frames. 32 In other words, “there is no polemical opposition of space and structure… space and structure are 27 Ibid, 22 28 Drexler and Hines, 8 29 The emphasis on compartmentalizing the interior is of course an approach in stark contrast to the open plans of Mies van der Rohe or Le Corbusier. Sheine, p. 7 and Steele, p. 17 30 Sheine, p. 13 31 Steele, p. 17 32 Sheine, p. 10


coincident.” 33 Schindler’s approach to the structure of his architecture is undoubtedly a feature that sets him apart from those categorized within the International Style. John Steele attributes this central distinction that separates Neutra, Mies and Le Corbusier from Schindler to the fact that he left Europe prior to the First World War. “Schindler took with him elements of the Romantic tradition, for which Neutra and his compatriots was shattered by the violence and poverty of the war and its aftermath.” 34 Perhaps Schindler had left Europe too early to be affected by the Rationalist movement. 35 Neutra was able to feel the “impact of constructivism, the beginning of the De Stijl in Holland, Le Corbusier’s prefabricated Domino houses in France and, on his return to Europe in 1930, he experienced the Bauhaus.” 36 Regardless of the validity of this statement and the ideological affects of the war on the two architects, it seems probable that Schindler’s reliance on the ideology of the Raumplan throughout his career led to his exclusion from the modernist clique as it was first conceived (by critics such as Johnson) at its inception, and effectively delayed his critical recognition as more than a mere “follower of Wright.”

theoretical propositions. It has concrete frame which raises it clear off the ground on legs; it has a twostory studio-type living-room and a roof terrace; it has a parking space, a play area and a wash-up at the ground-floor level. 39 Judith Sheine too compares and distinguishes the Lovell Beach house from Le Corbu’s Villa Savoye as a clear expression of Le Corbusier’s five points: the project indeed features piloti, a roof garden, ribbon windows, and free plan. 40 The Beach house’s concrete frame that “raises the house off the ground” and allows the “exposed staircases to diagonally slice through them,” in addition to “the continuous horizontal glazing and the exuberantly compositional fenestration” all seem to meet the five-point standard. 41 While perhaps these comparisons are intended to compensate for the critical overlooking of Schindler from the MoMA’s 1932 exhibition, the interpretations are second only to Schindler’s own theoretical grounding for his architecture.

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hat is certain however, for better or worse, is that the Lovell Beach House does not follow the architectural vocabulary that was related to the International Style. 37 On the one hand the design of the house seems too removed from a “Cubist, horizontal, white architecture of the Bauhaus-inspired International Style,” but concurrently there are no direct references to de Stijl. Augsut E. Sarnitz describes the Lovell Beach House as a transitional building “between the de Stijl and Constructivist tendencies in Schindler’s work.” 38 Reyner Banham presents an alternative view of the Beach House in comparing it with Le Corbusier’s work rather than De Stijl architecture: “its catalogued virtues reveal a building that could carry all Le Corbusier’s

chindler was engaged in a new idea of “space architecture,” a term he used to emphasize the importance of spatial relationships in his work. His solutions to individual buildings were testaments and manifestations of his theoretical writings; it was “an architecture of both formal invention and theoretical discipline.” 42 At the core of the theoretical foundation for his approach was the design and construction of interior space. Following his exclusion from the MoMA Exhibition, Schindler wrote an article entitled “Space Architecture” in which he vigorously distinguished himself from practitioners of the International Style as mere “functionalists” obsessed with “the ideal of perfection… the machine.” 43 When Phillip Johnson contacted Schindler regarding the possibility of including his work in a version of the MoMA show to be held in Los Angeles, Schindler responded: “I am not a stylist, not a functionalist, nor any other sloganist. Each of my buildings deals with a different architectural problem… The question of whether a house is really a house is more important to me, than the fact that it is made of steel, glass, putty, or hot air.” 44 He considered

33 Ibid. 34 Steele, p. 18 35 McCoy, Vienna to Los Angeles… p. 21 36 Ibid. 37 And perhaps, this project in particular is what provokes the schism between the critical reception of Neutra and that of Schindler. 38 Sarnitz, p. 374

39 Reyner Banham, Los Angeles: The Architecture of Four Ecologies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001 40 Sheine, p. 9 41 Ibid. 42 Sheine, p. 8 43 R.M. Schindler, “Space Architecture,” Dune Forum, Oceano, California. (Feb., 1934), pp. 44-46 44 Sheine, p. 9

Schindler’s Space-Architecture

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structure to be a problem that engineering had already solved, and in order to provide comfort and security for his clients the architect was responsible to control “space, climate, light, mood.” These were the tools of Schindler’s craft, and for the majority of his career his focus and concentration remained on the construction of experientially profound and meaningful interior spaces. 45

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Meaning through Interiority: the Kings Road and Kaufmann Houses

chindler regarded his Kings Road House (1922) as “the clearest expression” of his principles of space-architecture, in that the house enhances its site conditions, marries interior and exterior spaces, and demonstrates economy of means with efficiency of method. 46 Following a 2-week vacation camping and horseback-riding in Yosemite, Schindler and his wife Pauline were intrigued by the idea of “creating a house that would be as open to nature as a tent.” 47 They designed the rooms to serve as individual studios with three concrete walls and an entire glass face leading to the outdoors, and for the communal kitchen to serve as a kind of “social campfire affair.” 48 Each room or studio provides access and leads to the adjoining patios and garden. They even designed a “sleeping basket” on the roof, to complete the camping allusion. Rooms and studios are interlocked into an angular plan leaving access to and enclosing the adjoining patios and fitted with sliding doors and partitions. Schindler designed the furniture for the living area of the house of natural and unfinished redwood to match and counterbalance areas of gray cement, fiberboard and weathered copper. Concrete walls comprised the interior and exterior, and the floor of the interior joined the floor of the patio with no change in level, granting continuity between the living and patio spaces. Schindler wrote of his home: “the distinction between the indoors and the out-of-doors will disappear. The walls will be few, thin and removable. All rooms will become part of an organic unit instead of being small separate boxes with peepholes.” 49 The home as an organic “unit” is a significant notion 45 Sheine, p.19 46 Steele, p. 21 47 Steele, p. 9 48 Steele, p. 7 49 Schindler, “Space Architecture,” p. 44

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for Schindler; he perceives the home as a living being hosting qualities of “space, climate, light and mood,” carefully guiding the sense-perception of its inhabitants and ultimately enhancing the living experience and lifestyle of its residents. 50

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tylistic differences aside, the theoretical values and intentions guiding Neutra’s ideas on psychophysiological space are not so different from Schindler’s notion of space-architecture. Neutra’s belief in the relation between architecture and human physiology and the necessity of designing “for the full range of nonvisual pleasures” is elaborated within Survival Through Design. 51 In the work he discusses how an architectural space “controls and surrounds the individual,” leading the inhabitant to evaluate and appreciate the space with all his senses. Sylvia Lavin describes Neutra’s approach as a “therapeutic doctrine” focused on “the relationship between his client, now understood as a human organism, and domestic space, now understood as an environment that energetically acted on the nervous system and through it the psyche.” 52 Neutra’s role as architect is as a psychological and physical mediator between this said organism and the environment. He writes, “not only sight but sound helps to make clear the size and proportion of a space and the nature of the surface; the entire surface of his skin tells him about the ventilation, temperature and humidity; the smell of a room as well as its acoustic quality are part of the impact that everybody feels in buildings but few analyse.” 53 A key objective for Neutra was the realization of these experiential and sensory qualities within his work, for they enhanced the experiential qualities of his spaces and contributed to the well-being of its residents.

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later work in Neutra’s career, the Kaufmann Desert House (1946) presents a radically different stylistic schema and site condition with the same emphasis on a carefully designed interior space. For a variety of reasons it does not seem coincidental then that Kaufmann, who had commissioned Falling Water House, also 50 The Kings Road House is now the headquarters of the MAK Center for Art and architecture in Los Angeles. Steele, p. 11 51 Drexler and Hines, 55 52 Sylvia Lavin, “Open the Box: Richard Neutra and the Psychology of the Domestic Environment.” MIT Press Assemblage, No. 40 (Dec., 1999), pp. 6-25 <http://www.jstor.org/stable/3171369 .> p. 18 53 Hughes and Neutra, p. 22


commissioned the so-called Desert House of Neutra. Materially Neutra combines glass, stucco, natural rock and silver-gray trim situated on a lot with fantastic views that frame the surrounding mountain and desert. The Desert House reads more and alludes to the characteristics of a pavilion more than Neutra’s other works—large exterior overhangs cover the glass planes of the house and prevent distracting reflections. 54 Again here we find an emphasis on the horizontal, and the interaction of the horizontal with transparent elements. The attention here, as in elsewhere in Neutra’s work, is drawn to the “weightless space enclosed.” 55 Lavin claims that the Lovell (Health) House (1929) and the Kaufmann (Desert) House (1946) exemplify the “conflicting modernities” of the International Style. 56 While the Lovell House isolates space through its steel frame and regular structural grid, the desert house presents “no dominant façade or volumetric precision.” Instead it “seeks atmospheric continuity” with its environment through systems such as “indoor/outdoor heating, materials and program.” 57 The glass confounds the distinction among walls and windows, conglomerating these normally defined elements. In Survival Through Design, Neutra plainly states his conception of the house as a purely physical construction, as “a static structural weight on waterproofed concrete footings”—which, when compared to Schindler’s rhetoric of the house as an organic unit, is a concept entirely distinct and indeed, antithetical to the notion of an organism that roots itself within and is integrated with the soil of the landscape. 58 Perhaps this analogy of Schindler’s house as a holistic organism versus Neutra’s distinction between subject-body-and-environment could represent or loosely summarize the two architects’ approaches to psychophysiological space; both were interested in the well-being and comfort of their clients within their environments, albeit while approaching the design problem through different rhetorical means and with a different notion of the architect’s role.

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1920 and 1950 were not only instrumental in developing the regional vernacular of southern California architecture, but were manifestations of an understanding that the constructed environment contributes to the psychophysiological wellbeing of the resident. Despite the two architects’ stylistic differences and opposing attitudes towards structure, the development of experiential and sensory qualities of space are crucial in the work of both Neutra and Schindler for the construction of meaningful interior environments. Perhaps Ester McCoy was correct to suggest that only by living within a Neutra (or for that matter a Schindler) residence would one truly begin to grasp the experiential qualities of the space—by witnessing the passage of light through the materials, how the materials weather over time, how sound reverberates on a day-to-day basis. 59 These qualities of space, as Neutra tells us, are “re-actions of not only a nervous system but our whole cluster of organic responses...” and these reactions are not those that can be read or understood from within a plan or an elevation of a project, but may only be understood as part of the built project. 60 The materiality, mood, light and texture found within the interiors of Neutra and Schindler’s architectural works are qualities intended to be experienced in order for the psychophysiological dynamic of the space to be felt and understood.

n conclusion, the privately commissioned residences of Neutra and Schindler between

54 McCoy, Richard Neutra, p. 16 55 Ibid 56 Sylvia Lavin, “Richard Neutra and the Psychology of the American Spectator.” MIT Press. Grey Room, No. 1 (Autumn, 2000), pp. 42-63 < http://www.jstor.org/stable/1262550> p. 43 57 Lavin, “Neutra and Psychology of the American…” pp. 43-4 58 It is interesting to note Neutra’s recurring biological allusions. Neutra, Survival Through Design, p. 89

59 McCoy, Vienna to Los Angeles, p. 35 60 Hughes and Neutra, p. 29

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Inigo Jones and the Transformation of Stewart London (1603-1642) Melodie Yashar Urban History Spring 2013

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nigo Jones’ adoption of classical principles of design, and in particular the adoption of principles of Andrea Palladio, not only transformed the reputation and public conception of the figure of the architect, 1 but impacted London’s urban fabric morphologically by infusing the English architectural tradition with the richness of antiquity—the stylistic and urban ideals of the classical tradition. Appointed SurveyorGeneral under James I in 1615, Jones was quite literally at the head of designing and planning royal architectural projects throughout the city and its periphery. He is believed to be the first Englishman to have studied Roman architectural and archeological remains first-hand, but is credited as the first to implement such lessons within his royal architectural and urban works. The influence of Inigo Jones cannot be underestimated, as he initiated the popularity of the Palladian style and neoclassicism more generally in Great Brittan as a whole, which impacted the adoption of the style in Wales, Scotland, Ireland and eventually North America. Perhaps it is no coincidence that it was in the early seventeenth-century that the first maps of London were drawn, and this enhanced consciousness of London’s urban organization can be attributed in large part to the revolutionizing design of Covent Garden as civic center. Jones’ adoption of classicism laid the groundwork for the establishment and the identity of London’s civic core, effectively 1 Indeed, Inigo Jones may be said to be the first publically acknowledged English architect as distinct from an artisan or a surveyor—he pioneered much of what constitutes our contemporary understanding of the profession.

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validating the authority of Greek and Roman principles of design upon an international scale, and from which subsequent neoclassical movements would follow.

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ollowing multiple trips to Italy, Jones became influenced by the Vitruvian principles of balance and symmetry, and most significantly, the Palladian principles regarding the hierarchy of the classical orders. These principles (though loosely applied) are demonstrated in such early works as the Queen’s House at Greenwich, the Banqueting House at Whitehall, and the uncompleted royal palace of King Charles I. Jones was perhaps the most influential follower of the Italian architect Andrea Palladio, whose work held its foundation in the formal values of Greek and Roman classical antiquity. Palladio’s treatise, I Quattro Libri dell ’Architettura (1570) became a foundation of Jones’ architectural approach. His annotated copy of I Quattro Libri became a key foundational reference for his subsequent works, and directs historians to the architectural intent and inspirational origins of his work. His writings and drawings demonstrate the reinvention of the paradigm of the architect (which, as a profession was still historically premature) as one who is simultaneously a scholar, theorist and practitioner, and who readily demonstrates learned and invented principles of design within each built project. most influential urban design was J ones’ that of Covent Garden Square (1630), the

first planned public-square in London and one fundamentally based on the concept of


the Italian piazza. The urban scope of the project would impact the morphology and evolution of London, soon to become the most essential city in all of Europe, for years to come. The project, commissioned by the Duke of Bedford, was for a residential square and a church, which the Duke advised should simply resemble a “barn.” Jones’ response demonstrated a desire to elevate the civic and urban significance of the square in a manner synonymous with the urban paradigm of the agora of ancient Greece, for example. The architecture of Covent Garden expanded upon the language of antiquity and classicism that Jones venerated so much, reified the authority of Greek and Roman principles of design at an international scale, and proved to be a uniquely transformative entity of urban space.

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I. From Modest Beginnings to ‘Vitruvius Brittancus’

early all of the scholarship and biographical information on the life and career of Jones acknowledges the amount of recognition he received decades after his death. He has been variously described as “the first educated architect, the first classicist, the first Renaissance architect in Britain, and the savior of British building from the long winter of the Elizabethan style.” 2 Scholar A. A. Tait claims that he may very well be considered England’s first architectural historian. 3 John Webb, Jones’ pupil and later assistant, does not hesitate to praise his teacher with vehemence and general heroworship, claiming he was “famous in remote parts, where he lived many years, designed many works, and discovered many antiquities, before unknown, with general Applause.” 4 The British Palladians in the circle of Lord Burlington dubbed him ‘Vitruvius Brittanicus’ almost a century later. But the formal education and indoctrination of the architect (as one would expect in the architectural profession today) was a professional paradigm that did not yet exist in Jones’ era—for he was largely self-taught, and little is known of his early years apart from the fact that he was the son of a clothworker. Summerson points out that it was as a “picturemaker” 5 and as a designer 2 James Lees-Milne, The Age of Inigo Jones. (London: Batsford, 1953), 60 3 A. A. Tait, “Inigo Jones: Architectural Historian.” (The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 112, No. 805 April 1970), pp. 234-5), 235 4 John Summerson, Inigo Jones. (New Haven: Published for the Paul Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art by Yale UP, 2000), 7 5 Ibid., 8. Even after his first trip to Italy, for example, his reputation “was still that of a painter when he returned to England.”

in a “distinctly non-architectural sense” 6 that Inigo entered the service of the English court. In 1605, at the age of thirty-one, Jones had already visited Italy once and began to design masques for Queen Ann. 7 By 1640 he would have been responsible for staging over 500 performances. demonstrated unparalleled virtuosity J ones as a draftsman between 1605-9, evidencing

knowledgeable understanding of Italian set design and costume. 8 Jones is generally credited with introducing to the English court the proscenium arch and moveable scenery, settings, and costume from the Italian stage. 9 The drawing studies and annotations taken for the masques of Inigo Jones are the earliest examples of his identification with the writings of Palladio. Privately funded by the royal court, the masques allowed Jones recurring opportunities “to present Classical building types, especially temples, and to connect them with images of royalty” within elaborate set pieces (makeshift and temporary elements) that he would design time and time again. 10 James Lees-Milne explains how Inigo adopted “the classical formulae of the theatre, first laid down by Vitruvius and amplified by Serlio, Palladio and others” and used the performance as a venue to express “the scenic requirements of his imaginations.” 11 Originating from a humble background, (indeed, many historians question whether the young Jones had been formally educated at all, apparent by his incessant faulty spelling and Latin), Jones undertook a program of study entirely of his own design to entrench himself with fundamental theories of continental art and architecture. Ultimately, Jones would come to redefine the “intellectual status of architecture in England” and forge a new role for the architect in public life—forever impacting general conceptions of the architect’s role and significance within the urban fabric. 12

6. Joan Sumner Smith, “The Italian Sources of Jones’ Style.” (The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 94, No. 592 July, 1952, pp. 200-207), 203 7 This period marked the beginning of Jones’ collaboration with Ben Johnson, a celebrated playwright, and with whom he would collaborate until 1611. 8 In 1605 he toured Italy for the first time, though the trip was less formative to his architectural style and theoretical principles, as will be discussed. 9 Smith, 203 10 Inigo Jones and the Spread of Classicism: Papers Given at the Georgian Group Symposium 1986. (London: The Group, 1987) Newman, 5 11 Lees-Milne, 42 12 Christy Anderson, Inigo Jones and the Classical Tradition (Cambridge UP, 2007), 1

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II. The Architect as Scholar-Practitioner: A Trade Redefined

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ones’ efforts to establish a degree of “preeminence” as court architect emanated from a sincere desire and wish to embody the persona of the Renaissance scholar. 13 The meaning and professional scope which one attributes to the architectural profession today was yet undeveloped within the reign of James I. John Summerson explains, “nearly all the building work… was designed by those who built it, and they were masons, bricklayers or carpenters, working in with other trades which might include carvers for exterior ornament and joiners and plasterers for interiors.” 14 The paradigm of the modern professional architect in England, for which we should not hesitate to consider Jones one of the first (if not the first), derives from a professional class of men known as “surveyors,” whom in Tudor times were mostly concerned with land ownership and sales. 15 Of the surveyors in London at the time of Jones, many of them came out of the building trades and “could draw and write well and often knew some Latin.” 16 However, Summerson notes that their culture was “strictly limited” by the fact that they rarely travelled abroad and for that reason “possessed no intellectual authority.” 17 Jones was fortuitous to have travelled abroad, made the acquaintances of contemporary scholars, and maintained an enviable library of classical and foreign texts, ranging from the arts to science and mathematics. Summerson summarizes the concept well in explaining, “the role of the designer as a man of intellectual status was left for Jones.” 18

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rom very early in his career Jones was conscious of crafting and perhaps legitimizing the persona of the royal architect, as distinct from the surveyors of the Kings Commission of earlier years. Jones worked “as hard on the creation of his architectural persona as he did on the design of buildings for the early Stuart court.” 19 In addition to his selfeducation in the classical humanities, perhaps the most significant distinction in his architectural career was his continual pursuit to form a dialogue 13 Christy Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal.” (Art Journal, Vol. 56, No. 2 Summer, 1997 pp. 48-54), 51 14 Summerson, 15 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid, 16 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid. 19 Anderson, Inigo Jones and the Classical Tradition, 18

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(Above) Engraving, Covent Garden West Facade (Below) Saint Paul ’s Church, West Elevation as Executed


Covent Garden, Aerial Etching by Whollar

between theory and practice. Jones’ earliest notes on design date from 1608-1613, most notably prior to the formative effects of his second trip to Italy with the Earl of Arundel; these include translations and annotations of the works of Palladio, Vitruvius, Serlio, and Vasari. 20 His sketches and theoretical writing demonstrate his scholarship and copious study of the principles of classical architecture; his annotations in Palladio are notably dated throughout a period of thirty-nine years, suggesting that he was always returning to this essential text. 21 The material Jones sought in texts and illustrations proved to be much more than reference (although many scholars will not hesitate to linger on the striking similarities in his drawings that so constitute his ‘copying’), for he truly sought a principled course for what architecture should become. In implementing techniques such as orthogonal projection (as used by Palladio and others), scholars have noted the professionalism and skilled draftsmanship of Jones’ drawings. Jones’ means of representation emphasize a desire for clarity, regularity, and legibility. 22 Indeed, one cannot underestimate the significance of the drawing to the profession or the discipline of architecture altogether—particularly in light of the fact that a majority of Jones’ larger works were never built as intended, are now renovated, reconstructed, or worse no longer standing. He was perhaps the first English architect to create working drawings conscious of the document’s ability to promote dialogue and establish meaningful progress over the course of a project within a clientpatron relationship more generally. 23 Throughout his refined drawings and extensive analysis of architectural history and the literature of antiquity, “Jones invented a genealogy of English classicism 20 Gordon Higgott, “Varying with Reason: Inigo Jones’ Theory of Design.” (Architectural History, Vol. 35 (SAHGB Publications: 1992), pp. 51-77), 52 21 In Renaissance vernacular, “the study of any theory in application was termed a ‘practice,’ that is, an application of scholarship to a particular problem.” Anderson, Inigo Jones and the Classical Tradition, 19 22 Yet another reason why the quantity and draftsmanship of his masque designs (being small-scale, privately funded events of the court) are so impressive even to this day. Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal”, 48 23 In particular Jones almost always addresses his architectural drawings to his clients (though these could also read as dedications), in addition to readily supplying variations on a side of the page. Jeremy Wood, “Italian Art, and the Practice of Drawing” (The Art Bulletin, Vol. 74, No. 2 College Art Association: June 1992, pp. 247-270). Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal,” 49

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and established himself as the creator of a new language for English building.” 24

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a designer to travel beyond the confines of England was perhaps his most momentous advantage to later propel his career. It is suspected that his first trip to Italy was funded by the Earl of Rutland, 30 but very little else is documented on the journey. In 1609 Jones was fortuitously appointed by the royal court to carry letters to France and took the opportunity to see Paris, Chambord, even Nimes and Arles—most likely to study surviving Roman buildings there. 31 But it was his second tour of Italy with the Earl of Arundel that proved to be the most formative experience to impact the success of his later career. Thomas Howard, the Earl of Arundel (age twenty-seven at the time), had been a friend of Jones (age forty at the time) from within Prince Henry’s circle, and had even taken part in a number of his masques. The ultimate course to Italy was never intended as such (and was probably conducted clandestinely) as Arundel and Jones were only meant to accompany Prince Palatine to his home at Heidelberg on the occasion of Palatine’s wedding. 32 A week later, Arundel, Jones and his suite travelled first to Milan, 33 and afterwards to Parma, Venice, Florence and Siena. The winter of 1613-14 was spent in Rome, where Arundel was given permission to excavate an ancient site (undoubtedly Jones held great responsibility in this) and managed to send some statues back to England. Jones was likely involved in advising the Arundels on the purchasing of paintings and sculpture, in addition to pointing out the chief antiquities and architectural works of each city. 34 The tour lasted one year and eight months, though some scholars claim the journey may have been longer. 35 Sir Dudley Carleton, ambassador to Venice, wrote of Jones that “he [ Jones] will be of best use to him [Arundel], by reason of his language and experience in these parts.” It was “as a member of Arundel’s household” with which Jones made his formative trip to Italy in 1613-4, and a draft of Arundel’s will written in 1617 demonstrates that the Earl had a “special reliance on him”—likely as a friend and intellectual

24 Ibid., 19 25 Smith, 200 26 Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal,” 52 27 Ibid. 28 Most notably, prior to the formative effects of his second trip to Italy with the Earl of Arundel. 29 Higgott, 52

30 Historians dispute the dates of his first journey as being either between 1598-1603 or 1603-5. 31 Summerson, 16 32 Lees-Milne claims that it is likely Jones did not accompany the Arundels to Heidelberg, though he was certainly part of the company which left Heidelberg, and was certainly travelling at their expense. Lees-Milne, 32 33 At this point the majority of the party would have likely been sent back to England. 34 Lees-Milne, 32 35 Lees-Milne and Summerson both claim the journey lasted nearly two years.

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III. The Language of Antiquity: A Formal Adoption of Classical Principles

n the early seventeenth century England, the architectural language of classicism was a distinctly foreign stylistic phenomenon which one could only experience first-hand at the expense (of time and monetary means) of an international tour, or which demanded the refinement of years of education of original texts and treatises. There was, for this reason, an intrinsic elitism or at the very least a conscious class distinction inherent in Jones’ predilection for classical form. An English audience only exposed to the vernacular of Elizabethan architecture, for example, would more likely than not be ignorant of the architectural precedents guiding Jones’ design. Jones’ importation of Italian Renaissance design was indeed a severe departure from Elizabethan standards—for the “Tudor break with the Papacy had, until the early seventeenthcentury, cut England off from some of the principal examples of Italian art.” 25 The geographic remove which primary architectural examples held from England established the necessity (and the value) of books, texts, primary source and reference material. Jones’ adoption of architectural classicism was most likely predicated on his belief in the Roman value for “humanist educational ideals: “rhetorical clarity” and “historical knowledge.” 26 His repeated study of the texts of Andrea Palladio, Vitruvius, Vincenzo Scamozzi, Sebastiano Serlio, and others (both contemporaneous and antique) formed the basis for his understanding of classicism, and established a reference library from which his architectural vocabulary would develop. 27 enowned at the first British architect to visit Italy and absorb the richness of its architectural and art historical traditions, Jones’ earliest notes on design date from 1608-1613, 28 and included translations and annotations of the works of Palladio, Vitruvius, Serlio, and Vasari. 29 As discussed, the fortunate experience that Jones had as

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counterpart. 36 It so happened that Simon Basil, the King’s Surveyor in office during Jones and Arundel’s trip, died in September 1615 when Jones returned to England. Infused with creative inspiration and ideological backing for the makings of an architectural career, Jones was appointed Surveyor of the King’s Works to James I in 1615.

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hroughout Jones’ journey with the Earl of Arundel, his copy of Palladio’s Quattro Libri served as a sort of guide within which Jones took copious notes and annotations. Jones’ position as a disciple of Palladian architecture is well established given the numerous readings and annotations which he maintained throughout his sketchbooks, 37 and his reliance upon I Quattro Libri as a text which he would reference for close to forty years of his career. 38 He was an avid collector of Palladio’s drawings while in Italy, obtaining at least forty-six originals. His adoption of Palladian principles was indeed prophetic of future expressions of NeoClassicism for generations to come. Summerson depicts Palladio as Jones’ most influential figure, but does not fail to mention the influence of Serlio and of Scamozzi. Indeed, Jones met Scamozzi while he was in Venice (who would later publish Idea dell’Architettura universale, and which Jones would again absorb avidly), further enhancing his profound interest in all things Italianate and specifically all things antique. Jones freely dissented from and disapproved of the theories of his late teachers; Lees-Milne notes that Jones frequently annotated the phrase “not to be imitated” within his copy of I Quattro Libri, demonstrating the beginnings of an architect-figure with an opinionated, individualist view and uniquely independent style. 39 Gordon Higgot presents the notion of “varying with reason,” a phrase taken from one of Jones’ notebooks from the period, which he believes to be demonstrative of Jones’ general design approach; for the architect should look to the antique for the most superior precedents, but she is free to vary from these models, provided she does so in a reasoned way. 40

36 Inigo Jones and the Spread of Classicism, Newman 6 37 The Queen’s House at Whitehall (1619) was perhaps the first fully developed example of Palladian architecture in England; previously classical features had for the most part been confined to ornamentation. See Illustrations 13-14. Smith, 200 38 Tait, 235 39 Taken from Inigo Jones’ annotated copy of Palladio now at Chatsworth. Lees-Milne, 54 40 Higgott, 53

IV. Covent Garden: A New Civic Center

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he grandest of all Jones’ projects in both scale and morphological effect was the development of Covent Garden, London’s first planned public square. 41 The significance of the establishment of the piazza and the ensuing market on London’s urban fabric cannot be underestimated, as it hosted an evolution of functional and pragmatic uses for centuries to come. The ambitiousness of the Earl of Bedford’s Covent Garden development in 1631 designates and distinguishes the project as the first real example of urban development in London. It demonstrates the creative influence and liberty that the Building Commission possessed at the time—providing Jones with an exceptional architectural opportunity. Arthur Channing Downs Jr. describes the project as having had four major components: the Church of St. Paul’s Covent Garden with the adjoining buildings on the west, the portico buildings on the north and east, Bedford Gardens on the south (adjoining the residence of the Earl of Bedford), and lastly the marketplace. 42 The commissioners appointed to implement the Proclamation for the project were told they were not allowed to increase in the number of houses, “but it did facilitate planned re-distribution.” More significantly, the Proclamation established the principle that any new-shaping of London’s streets should come under the eye of the King’s Surveyor— in other words, Inigo Jones. 43 The employment of Jones, now a preeminent court architect, was a condition imposed by the license.

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he design of Covent Garden Square was likely informed by Piazza San Marco in Venice, Piazza Santissima Annunziata in Florence, and the Place des Vosges in Paris—destinations Jones undoubtedly visited at this point in his career. Scholars suggest that the piazza at Leghorn was also a ready precedent, noting the rapid transformation of Leghorn under Ferdinando Medici in 1587 to become an outstanding international sea-port sustained for approximately two-hundred years. Leghorn bears striking resemblance to the Covent Garden project on account of the establishment of both a church and a piazza within the urban 41 Channing Downs Jr, Arthur. “Inigo Jones’ Covent Garden: The First Seventy-Five Years.” ( Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, Vol. 26, No. 1 University of California Press, March 1967 pp. 8-33), 8. See Illustrations 1-6. 42 Ibid., 12 43 Summerson, 76-7

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development. John Summerson affirms that Jones undoubtedly had seen it on his first Italian visit, and that the Earl of Bedford would likely have heard of it. Coincidentally enough, “Duke Ferdinando’s neice was Marie des Medicis, Queen of Henri IV of France, and his initiative in creating the Place Royal in Paris in 1605 probably derived from Leghorn.” 44 The logistical connections and networked relationships that link London to Leghorn and Paris aside, the three cities now shared conceptual urbanistic schemes that sought to rationalize the design of a complete residential quarter “on architectural as well as profitable lines”—transforming and animating the quarters into economic and cultural destinations of the city. 45

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hile the project license did not mention the design a church, the Earl of Bedford realized the presence of a Protestant house of worship “was a matter of expediency rather than piety,” and shrewdly acknowledged that it would render the creation of a new civic quarter “ready provided with the proper symbol of social acceptability.” 46 When construction began in 1631, no church had been constructed on a new site in London since the Reformation. The two royal chapels designed by Jones (the second was underway at the time development for Covent Garden began) were for Catholic worship—and no precedent existed for a Protestant church built from the ground-up. Ultimately, the church was a program imposed upon the Earl by the Building Commission as “part of the price for permission to build his square.” 47 Programmatically speaking, the project marked the first time Jones would design for the general public, as opposed to the privacy of the royal court. While little documentation remains on the debates that surely surrounded the form the Church, the most common anecdote told to Walpole by Mr Speaker Onslow is as follows: When the Earl of Bedford sent for Inigo he told him he wanted a chapel for the parishioners of Covent Garden, but added he would not go to any considerable expense; ‘In short’, said he, ‘I would not have it much better than a barn.’ ‘Well! then,’ said Jones, ‘You shall have the handsomest barn in England.’ 48 44 45 46 47 48

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Ibid., 78 Ibid. Ibid., 77 Inigo Jones and the Spread of Classicism, Newman, 6 Summerson, 77

believed the absolute simplest order, the J ones Tuscan, would befit a program of public and civic

architecture, and also imagined the Tuscan order’s appropriateness “for a building to be dedicated to a masculine saint.” 49 As far as materiality is concerned, the church was made of brick and covered in stucco with only the columns being of stone—which was a significantly more economical means of executing the building, in addition to being “classically correct;” Jones had noted temples in Rome with such a construction system, and from them he adopted the precedent. 50 was attracted to the “raw, primitive J ones presentation of the Tuscan” because he

envisioned it as the order “closest to natural ideas of construction,” and for these reasons most befitting of new, urban development. 51 The classical attitudes towards the Tuscan order that shaped Jones’ understanding of its usage collectively acknowledge its economy of means and its “plain, robust character;” but little else is as resolved or definite about the order. 52 Serlio unflatteringly recommended the Tuscan order for “military architecture, city gates, arsenals and prisons.” 53 Alberti did not think the Tuscan “worth mentioning,” and Palladio only thought it appropriate for spanning large distances within country buildings, “where the passage of carts was to be considered.” 54 Jones’ treatment of the Tuscan order within the Church of St Paul, Covent Garden most closely resonates with Vitruvius’ description of the order; although Vitruvius offers a fairly incomplete formula, he “makes it clear that it is suitable only for timber beams and must have an enormous, truly sheltering eaves-spread.” 55 One cannot doubt the extent to which the opinions of classical authorities impacted Jones’ decision to design a church of the simplest and cheapest kind as a temple of the Tuscan order. Even still, Jones’ decision to implement the Tuscan order within Covent Garden demonstrates a mediation between London’s architectural vernacular as it already existed, and the elevated forms and theories of classical antiquity. Considered a ‘low’ order by reputation, Jones’ decision to implement the Tuscan within his first civic project is especially profound 49 Downs Jr., 13 50 Although Jones certainly gave the designs for Covent Garden, his participation in its execution was probably slight; scholars acknowledge Isaac de Caus as the executant architect. 51 Summerson, 80. See Illustrations 1-6 52 Ibid. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid. 55 Summerson, 79-80


given that it is the first public manifestation of classical orders of design on an architectural scale in London’s urban sphere. envisioned classicism, architecturally and J ones stylistically speaking, as specifically befitted

to the design of the exterior of a building; and in order for the exterior symbolize “strength” in design, Jones frequently abandoned the external ornaments of the other orders in favor of the more rudimentary Tuscan. 56 Christy Anderson discusses how proponents of architectural classicism frequently employed not only the authority of scholars and authors from antiquity to promote the significance of their approach, but also implemented rhetoric associated with “masculine values” in order to support “classicism’s superiority over a vernacular English architecture.” 57 Anderson claims that Jones’ tendency towards “restrained” classical architecture was related to “contemporary ideas of masculine self-presentation.” 58 Specifically, in 1614 Jones describes the necessary gravitas, solidity and proportionality of a building’s facade with the selfpresentation of a man within the public sphere— claiming that “ye outward ornaments [of a building] oft to be… proporsionable according to the rules, masculine and unaffected.” 59 Here Jones professed a profound connection between the architecture of the façade and the ideals of “masculine nobility”— whereas he equated the interior of a work of architecture with feminine attributes. Through such rhetoric he not only sought to further legitimize the profession of the architect-as-scholar within the King’s court, 60 but he also implemented the rhetoric of “masculine nobility” to demonstrate his belief in the suitability of classicism for the architectural

56 He was especially interested in the rustication of Serlio’s approach to the Tuscan order. Higgott,68 57 Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal”, 48 58 Anderson elaborates, “Classicism took on the role of ‘high’ architectural language through the work of its advocates in aligning its precepts with the seriousness of scholarly study and the ideals of masculine behavior.” Anderson, “Masculine and Unaffected: Inigo Jones and the Classical Ideal”, 50-3 59 Jones, Roman Sketchbook, fol. 76r. 60 The “legitimizing” causes for Jones’ appeal to masculine attributes present a troubling set of gender assumptions and prescriptions for the reader, but one must focus her attention on the significance of these characterizations to the practice of Jones’ architecture, troubling as they may be for a contemporary audience. We must remember that Jones was preoccupied not only with the appositeness of his professional reputation, but was equally invested in maintaining the regal appropriateness and nobility of the King’s Works, and his metaphorical rhetoric functions to express these same notions.

facade. 61 Gordon Higgott agrees that Jones’ statement demonstrates the distinction placed on the exterior versus the interior of his architectural works, and in many cases the extreme simplicity of Jones’ exteriors led to ornate and enriched ornamentation on the interior. 62 So while the exteriors of Jones’ buildings may have implemented Tuscan or Doric loggias, many of his works also feature highly ornamental interiors modeled in the French tradition. 63 The Tuscan has always been recognized as the “most primitive” of the five orders, or the one “closest to the vernacular.” 64 In seeking to maintain classical dignity at the vernacular level— Jones’ design for St Paul’s Church at Covent Garden effectively became the paradoxical ‘handsomest barn’ of the anecdote. 65 had already explored and implemented J ones principles of the Tuscan order fifteen years prior

at the beginning of his surveyorship. King James I commissioned a stable and a brew house for his house at Newmarket—programmatically “obvious” opportunities for the application of the Tuscan order, given the informal and less-than-pristine daily uses of a brew-house and a stable. 66 The plan for the brew-house in particular was based diagrammatically on Palladio’s Villa Badoer, but substituted an arrangement of two Tuscan columns in its six-column portico (which he found in Scamozzi), though it was never built as such. The arrangement, “with arch-pierced walls connecting the antae to the main body of the building (as, for instance, in Palladio’s Villa Rotunda) is an almost exact forecast or precursor of the portico at Covent Garden.” 67 The design of the houses and arcades of the piazza confirm that the Tuscan order was consciously adopted by Jones, and demonstrates 61 That is, as opposed to the more menial jobs of the artisan or surveyor. 62 Higgott, 69 63 A notable example of this dichotomy between the interior and the exterior is the Queen’s House at Greenwich, which began construction in 1617. 64 Summerson, 79 65 A major issue in evaluating Jones’ design for the square has to do with the fact that very few drawings correctly or consistently represent the state of the design as intended, or as executed within Jones’ lifetime, for that matter. Downs Jr., 10 66 Summerson, 80. See Illustration 7. 67 I suppose it is testament to Jones’ elitism that convinced him that the classical order which he had used earlier for a brew house and a horse stable would likewise be appropriate or comparable in respectability to a Protestant place of worship. Ironically (or suitably!) enough, the Protestant aesthetic would have indeed preferred a starkly minimal design, stripped of all superficial embellishments and ornamentation. Indeed, Jones had veritably succeeded as architect and urban designer. Ibid., 80

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how the project may be conceived of as a continuous essay in the Tuscan order—ranging from the high sophistication of the portico to the vernacular of the housing—and effectively laying the groundwork for what traditional Georgian housing would become almost a century later.

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he square’s civic popularity was the most pronounced testament to its success as an urban design; the eventual expansion of the market and commercial activity of Covent Garden Square further demonstrates the success of the piazza as a center for urban life. The first documented shop mentioned in the rates lists for the piazza was in 1662, although an open-air market composed of temporary push-carts and stalls had developed in the square well before then. 68 Shops, taverns and cellars continued to the constructed around the piazza until 1678. The only other project by Jones to have a comparable (though short-lived) impact upon the public sphere was the remodeling of Old St. Paul’s Cathedral. As the general meeting-place of Londoners during the day-time, merchants conducted business in the aisles, lawyers received clients, and the unemployed looked for work. 69 The Churchyard itself was the center of the book trade and Fleet Street was a center of public entertainment. 70 The assignment to repair and remodel the west front of Old St. Paul’s Cathedral forced Jones to struggle with the structure’s dilapidated Gothic elements. He ultimately casted the west front in classical masonry and designed a giant Corinthian portico consisting of fourtyfive foot high columns, and conceived in what Jones referred to as “the Roman Greatness.” 71 The west portico of St Paul’s Cathedral marked the termination of the royal processional route from Whitehall to the City of London; it was a key directional and symbolic vector for the royal family, as well as for the city of London itself. This great statement of Classicism was completed just as the Civil War broke out. Indeed, Inigo Jones’ career remained strong up until the onset of the English Civil War in 1642. Jones was taken prisoner by Oliver Cromwell’s forces, and a period characterized by the imposition of architectural austerity would soon follow.

68 Downs Jr., 32. 69 Ibid., 39 70 Ibid. 71 Inigo Jones and the Spread of Classicism, Newman, 6. Jones’ remodeling of the west end of the Cathedral was destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666. See Illustrations 11-12

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n the 1650s there was a rejection of doctrinaire classicism as exemplified by Jones, and instead there was “a return to a more comfortable and compatible style;” a revival of stylistic vernacular look place that avoided the essential elitism of classical forms (and preferred to interpret them and hence use them strictly for decorative means and purposes). 72 Parliament’s victory in the English Civil War and the arrival of a reforming regime with distinct left-wing tendencies might lead one to expect or to encourage a “similar situation in the arts,” as it had, for example, with the French Revolution. 73 The notion of a public dissenting from the “noble purism” of Inigo Jones’ and John Webb’s doctrinaire classicism is one which A. A. Tait analogizes with Postmodernism in the twentieth century; for in all of English architectural history there had not yet been a comparable declaration of the authority and prevalence of classical principles of design as demonstrated by the ideology and career of Inigo Jones .74 His modest beginnings belie and confound his great influence in validating the authority of Roman and Greek principles of design inter-continentally, but more generally in establishing and reifying the paradigm of the architect as scholar, intellectual, theorist, and practitioner. Jones’ reliance upon the hierarchy of the classical orders was instrumental in restructuring and reforming classical architecture for a domestic English audience. 75 Of Jones’ forty-five recorded architectural works, only seven survive today—but his influence and legacy are embedded within the urban fabric of London’s Covent Garden, in addition to the subsequent waves of architectural Neoclassicism which proliferated (and still proliferate) throughout Europe and America. 76

72 Inigo Jones and the Spread of Classicism: Papers Given at the Georgian Group Symposium 1986, 23 73 Ibid. 74 Ibid. 75 Anderson, Inigo Jones and the Classical Tradition, 1 76 Summerson, 1


Abbreviated Timeline: The Career of Inigo Jones

Birth of Inigo Jones

1573 1603

Inigo Jones First Tours Italy

1603-1605

Jones’ Second Tour of Italy

July 1613 Sept 1614

Appointed Surveyor of the Kings Works

1615

Design of Queen Anne’s House, Whitehall

1619

1625 Design of Covent Garden

1630

Remodeling of Old St. Paul’s Cathedral

1634

1642 1643

Death of Inigo Jones

Death of Elizabeth I Rule of James VI, Appointed James I

Death of James I Rule of Charles I

The English Civil War Seizure of the King’s Houses

1652

1666

(Above) Covent Garden Etching by Whollar (Below) Engraving, Covent Garden Looking South East (1768) Great Fire of London Christopher Wren and John Denham are appointed Surveyors of the Kings Works

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A Log of Polemical Statements, or the “For / Againsts” of Manifesto-Architecture Melodie Yashar Architecture as Concept Spring 2014

Session 2 Typological Cocepts: Constraints and Variables, Frozen Typologies, Neo-rationalism January 29, 2014

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-FOR-

ldo Rossi, in “The Architecture of the City,” begins his discussion for a theory of urban morphology through a series of carefully articulated qualifications. Aware and conscious of the city as a living, mutable, evolving and changing thing, he looks to linguistics, in particular to de Saussure, as a starting point for how to evaluate the “fixed” elements of the city—analogous to the fixed structures of language. Rossi approaches his theory of urban morphology through “a description [readings, as I would call them,] of the forms of an urban artifact.” Such descriptions (readings of urban form) aptly give way to his discussion of architectural type and typology. -AGAINST-

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onetheless Rossi envisions the city, the host of culture and society’s architectural work, as a vague essentialist concept. He describes two major “systems” or methods for approaching a theory of urban morphology: the first being “one that considers the city as the product of the generative-functional systems of its architecture and thus of urban space”— that is, urban form as a constructor and instigator of urban life, and the second being simply a “spatial structure”—or the physical

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container of urban life. While I am not sure exactly which of the two I subscribe to, I do appreciate Rossi’s willingness to engage the concept of the city as more than built form. When Rossi evaluates the writing of Quatremere de Quincy, he transitions from a discussion of typology as a tool of taxonomical classification, to ‘types’ being the foundations of ‘rules’ in architecture. He argues that the emergence of a ‘typical’ element can be found and distinguished in all architectural artifacts. He begins discussing typology as a matter of constituent elements—the walls and the columns are the “elements which compose buildings” just as buildings are the elements composing cities. But as the argument broadens its focus, he perceived type as a “cultural element... and as such can be investigated in different architectural artifacts.” He continues, “typology becomes in this way the analytical moment of architecture, and it becomes readily identifiable at the level of urban artifacts.” I am not entirely convinced by this claim; perhaps Rossi intends to say that typology is a means of engaging the notion of an architectural concept at the urban scale. But I am not convinced by the ‘emergence’ of typology as a distinct analytical moment.


Session 3 The Whites v. The Grays February 12, 2014 -FOR-

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he authority of modernism as a conceptual formalist practice derives from a belief in modernist ‘objects’ as self-referential, insular expressions of its unique tenets and purposes. At the core of this practice is a moment of almost essentialist intentionality, where an architectural quality becomes or is then considered to be a sign of a larger conceptual agenda extrinsic to the object itself—the object is nothing more than manifestation. -AGAINST-

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heoretical assumptions grounding modernism as a formalist practice need not derive their prescience from ‘universals’—for one may simply envision every conceptual practice as maintaining insular principles which fail to interrelate, oppose, or intermingle. So while formalist approaches to modernism allege to emerge from within a conceptual bubble, or in isolation from historical influences, contamination and dilution from truly formalist principles of past is inevitable.

Session 4 Phenomenological Affects February 19, 2014 -FOR-

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distinctly regionalist building that is “selfreflexive” and “self-referential” communicates and embodies more than the principles it maintains insularly, but it also confronts the tenets of an otherwise universalizing architecture—which characteristically neglects to develop an internal logic or a formal language specific to itself and its own desires. Metaphors of ‘embodiment,’ in this context, surpass the understanding of a building exemplifying or typifying a conceptual framework, but demonstrate how they may simultaneously critique and negate others.

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he insistence that architecture must have a signifying reference ( Jencks), such as Platonic metaphysics were to the Renaissance, for example, becomes a basis for questioning the ‘reference’ or theoretical foundation for post-modern architecture and the world of the architect in the context of late capitalism (here we cannot suffice to say that agnosticism is an answer, for it is a non-answer). If phenomenology is to be simply conceived as a ‘return to things,’ a means of corporeally perceiving visceral qualities and sensational affects before considering The insistence on a succession of meaning (the abstract mental concept that precedes physical form) is one that is neither useful nor constructive for the production of meaningful work (in the end, it is meaning, and not philosophical, literary, or historical reference which is most important).

Session 5 Heterogeneity, Disjunctions, Fragmentation: From the Concept of Deconstruction to the Bilbao Effect March 5, 2014 -FOR-

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econstruction may be understood as an extension, perhaps a symptom of postmodernism. In theorizing or conceptualizing the surface and formal qualities of contemporary architecture they become“readily transformable, consumable”—and this tendency is more largely a product of the“neglect of the material dimensions of architecture... program, production, financing, and so forth... that more directly invoke questions of power”—a discourse better suited to follow the structuralist theoretical and conceptual programs of the last decades (McLeod). -AGAINST-

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f deconstruction, which claims to be rooted in formalist interests of abstract shape, geometry and form, is neither an ‘ism,’ nor a new movement in architecture, how does one evaluate the critical implications of deconstruction as a concept outside of the “formal sphere?”

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f the philosophical underpinnings of this new trend do nothing more than undermine the translation from literary and critical theory to architectural form, what use do they serve in engaging a discourse that essentially amounts to a discussion of shared formal qualities?

Session 6 Programmatic Concepts and Diagrams: A Search for Abstraction March 26, 2014

reifying the distinct critical territories of each. -AGAINST-

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he meaning of both minimalist art and architecture created in the vein of minimalism is produced by physically experiencing the work in the real world. The “pure and prior space of intentionality,” despite being radically different in either discipline (even when neglecting the historical and cultural origins of these values), is secondary to the phenomenological experience of the work.

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Session 8: Ideological and Ecological Envelopes April 9, 2014

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espite being abstract representations of urban and sociological conditions, ‘datascapes’ are not architectural projects, though they may certainly serve as starting points for the development of architectural representation. In that respect, information may indeed have formal consequences. -AGAINST-

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hile responsible architectural practice necessarily involves extensive research on the urban fabric, frequently involving the assembly of massive quantities of data, creative re-formulation of pre-existing constraints does not guarantee a project will garner an architectural solution—outside or foreign typological concepts may on occasion prove to be more useful and/or appropriate.

Session 7: Minimalism and the Art of Construction April 2, 2014 -FOR-

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inimal” functions as an adjective than an –ism in architecture (this supposed movement in architecture was never formally iterated by a text or manifesto, nor was it solidified by an architectural exhibition). Designating architecture as aesthetically “minimal” implicitly references the aesthetic values of Minimal Art, though architecture maintains critical distinction in its built form—issues of interiority, exteriority, usability, social relevance and functionalism are obvious points of contention between the disciplines,

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rchitecture that proclaims itself to be an expression of what we enigmatically define as “hi-tech” ultimately surmounts to deliberate (sometimes forced) expressions of form and materiality. The self-referential nature in which hi-tech architecture (already assumed to be implementing the most progressive of industrial and manufacturing technologies) draws attention to its (exposed) structural systems represents more than a commitment to sustainable practice or economic efficiency—whether intended or not, it is ultimately a stylistic expression. -AGAINST-

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he imperative of having a functional justification for every design decision is a condition to which the modern “hi-tech” architect must abide; the structure has to be real if it is exposed, and the sincerity of the architectural intent—a commitment to efficiency, soundness of design—must preface an expression of not only form, but also the project’s underlying typology.


Session 9: The Post-Critical and Iconic April 16, 2014 -FOR-

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he “adeptness” of Rem Koolhaus towards creating a critical architecture is achieved, as noted by Hal Foster, through “systematic overestimation” and “rhetorical reversal” (beckoning such questions as ”if the store cannot be a museum, why not make a museum of the store?”), can most certainly slip into “glib conflation.” But perhaps Koolhaus’ apparent cooption with the “formless city” can be interpreted as a compromised “attentiveness” (hence the cool image of Koolhaus as a ’surfer’ of the market) in a time when Situationist detournemont is unlikely, and particularly in regards to architecture, will not get anything built. Greg Lynn appropriately remarks in this regard, “the most paradigmatic architecture of the last ten years… invests in the architectural representation of contradictions.” -AGAINST-

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he theme of inter-disciplinarily in architecture has lead, in one way or another, to the inflation of critical practice—almost as if ‘formative’ architecture of previous decades has not emerged in conditions of intensely critical activity nonetheless subject to crossdisciplinary contamination and conceptual de-territorialization (the Bauhaus, for example). This critique almost implies that architecture’s engagement with other, characteristically ‘modern’ disciplines (parametric or algorithmic computing, BIM and design intelligence) has led to an appropriation of the other’s theory as an asset or added value to architectural practice.

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Cinematic Phenomenology: Architecture and the Temporality of Lived Experience Melodie Yashar Architecture as Concept Spring 2014

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he Spirit of Space, 1 a contemporary videography and creative agency working to promote an “awareness of designed environments for the architectural profession and beyond,” has created short video pieces that document and represent the creative processes of architecture and its material realization of built form. Their work demonstrates an admirable foray or first beginnings unto an investigation of cinema’s unique capacity to characterize the phenomenal qualities of the built environment through an investigation of architecture’s relationship to temporality, and in privileging the experiential aspects of space. In videos created for Steven Holl’s Daeyang Gallery & House (2012), we see a shot of the building’s reflection within its adjacent outdoor pool, and as such we see architecture partaking in a phenomenological operation. The essential feature of cinema’s mechanical reproducibility, the remove from the “here and now” of direct and immediate experience, establishes the first order of cinematic “absence. 2” As soon as the building’s immediate physical presence and material tactility are negated by the shifty fluidity and glossiness of the water, the building goes absent again—becoming an extra-diegetic force of the film, the building is instead made present in the shifty form of its own reflection upon the water. The building’s 1 See http://spiritofspace.com/steven-holl/daeyang-galleryand-house. For images see p. 13. Already in this play-on-words is a cheeky nod to the notion of genius loci. 2 As a primary cinematic construction, cinema portrays a representational image of the building at a physical and temporal remove from true place.

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phenomenological nature is portrayed as existing within a system of conditional dependencies (the water existing in proximity of the building, the building in proximity of the site, etc.). Here, cinema legitimizes and validates an architecture invested in the phenomenology of presence. The short films acknowledge cinema as a representational tool and technological apparatus capable of serving the credibility of the architectural project; a polite tourist to the space, and the camera shows what we, (as architecture’s critical audience absent from the building’s site) are unable to personally witness and physically perceive.

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he films are themselves objects of contemporary criticism—by virtue of the cinematic medium they engage, the work implicates not only architectural discourse, but contemporary media culture. The efficacy with which this is conveyed is a matter of reading the cinematographic qualities of the films as a means of qualifying the nature of the architectural work, and the manner in which it is represented. Uniquely, Holl is both the subject of interest and inquiry, and a creative force facilitating these periodical and journalistic explorations of built form. The films exhibit and document the unique condition of an architect professing or iterating the underlying design intentions of the project, while simultaneously participating in and contributing to the production of its own criticism—which in this case, happens to be a synchronized moment. The format of the films, no more than 3 or 4 minutes each, are catered specifically for the short


attention spans and generally disinterested nature of the contemporary Internet consumer. 3 The films’ adherence to a formal structure simultaneously based on and yet in willful compliance with a generally disoriented public implies a questionable approach to the content it creates; in seeing its critical capacity as no more impressionable, relevant or transformative than the sub-standard consideration of similarly formatted content, the films do little to affect “the way in which the demand for a critical reading is formulated.” 4 The You-Tube-optimized qualities of the films demonstrate a concession to the representative schema established by a cultural majority; how they will emerge within a mélange of self-similar content remains a question—but what seems clear is that media and message align all too perfectly. 5

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he dual or binary nature of the “experience” film followed by the “explanatory” film and yet being separate objects that do not follow continuously in cinematic time, are telling of a particular understanding or attitude towards contemporary theory and the reception of a work of architecture within contemporary critical discourse. In this binary relationship, there is the film that thinks, versus the film that passively receives its constituent time-images. The film that thinks is invested in the intentionality of the architect, and verifying these intents perceptibility within the space-form of architectural design. The explanatory film contributes little in terms of cinematic communication to what is already dictated by Steven. As he speaks, he engages the viewer with his analysis, and we quickly witness the conviction and charisma of the architect reveling in an ostensive validation of his design intentions. 6 3 This is an admission I was privy to hear from Holl himself in in the context of the Advanced Studio course that he taught this semester (Spring 2014) entitled “Language, Structure, and Light.” My final conjecture is that Holl finds little appreciation for new media formats that are not formally cinematic—or that simply cannot be formally viewed from within a theater. In questioning the apparent similarity of the videos’ format with marketing videos of a similar duration, the answer was a resounding “no.” 4 Pierre-Alain Croset, “The Narration of Architecture.” In Architecture Production, ed. Beatriz Colomina. (New York, NY: Princeton Architectural Press, 1988. Pp. 201-211) 206 5 Generously we might interpret the films’ quick and “easily digestible” format as a populist effort to increase viewership of the works and raise awareness of the buildings overall. 6 I have in mind Wittgenstein’s notion of “pointing and naming” as an inevitable method of communication for concepts that defy or have not yet been given words. I supposed as viewers we have no choice but to accept Steven Holl’s analysis as evidence enough for the existence (and realization) of an underlying intent. Without doubt, however, cinema may contribute significantly more to an

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n the “experience” film, we witness a selection of ephemeral optical effects (the refraction of light through water and glass especially), and specialized depictions of light and shadow within the space. They also include a significant amount of time-lapse imagery, which introduces a fundamental paradox in cinema’s potential to affirm a condition of phenomenological presence: a person would never corporeally perceive a time-lapse as such—we are witnessing a cinematic event and a visual perspective which is fundamentally unnatural and un-human. And yet, being an inanimate, idealized view somehow fundamentally registers as and signifies a fundamental demonstration of how light interacts with the building and its immediate context. As such, the sequences reveal generic spacio-temporal explorations of built form rather than embodying a distinctly experiential mode of space-perception to inhabit the building—and most importantly to move or transverse through its spaces. The “effect”-driven aspects of the short film are quite simply intended for instantaneous consumption by the viewer. They verify the ontological existence of experientially significant architectural elements, but neglect to engage those aspects of the architecture unaffected by the sensationalism of spectacle. 7 A cinematic effort devoted to experimentation with a distinctly architectural temporarily could, for example, demonstrate a real-time simulation of movement more in line with a true or even an approximated understanding of human sensory perception. Ultimately, the videos exemplify the fundamental issue of “criticism as an art of legitimation,” and rather than exploring the nature of and quality of moving within the building’s space, the films demonstrate a general “diminution” of the experiential aspects of space in focusing on surface effects rather than the uniquely architectural aspects of the project. 8

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t the core of this discussion is the notion of architecture’s investment in the temporality of lived experience. A uniquely cinematic “mode” or rendition of architectural experience is capable of representing the phenomenological particularities of presence, and cinema is a medium uniquely catered to elaborate strains of “architectural criticism” founded on and devoted to “the totality understanding of spatial design. 7 Croset would likely ask, “Where are the stairs?” “How do I get in?” I will revisit his wry critiques later. 8 Croset, 206

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of real experience.” 9 Cinema’s narrative capacity to represent synchronous experiences of time on-screen 10 grants film the unique capability to present critical readings of architecture based on lived experience. Cinema, phenomenologically conceived, serves as a tool for architectural criticism testifying to the perceived experiential affects of built form. The temporality of the cinematographic medium presents a condition for engaging works of architecture (built or not built) through critical readings of experiential spatial (re-)construction within the mind’s eye, offering “the reader a the necessary techniques [concrete, materializing evidence] to imagine and so overcome the physical and temporal distance separating him from the real architecture, stimulating his desire for [real] experience.” 11 In and of itself cinema presents an artificial account of phenomenal presence—and in its remove from the “here and now,” is capable of formulating critical meta-statements on the nature of sensory perception in architecture, and the efficacy of the architect to realizing the intent of a project.

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he inevitable disjunction between architecture and cinema as interrelated media or disciplines is the fact that they present seemingly conflicting temporalities of space; while architecture is synchronous, cinema demonstrates a diachronic approach towards space-time. In order to depict and address the experiential aspects of phenomenological space, architecture must necessarily address temporality as a framework for critical engagement. The double-absence of reproduced reality witnessed on-screen by the cinematic audience is a selfreflexive attribute of film as a medium that confirms a predisposition towards materializing spatial relationships—providing a uniquely architectural opportunity for investigative experimentation. Nonetheless, a vested interest in representing experiential qualities of space through a medium sensitive to a building’s temporality does not excuse the architect from striving to meaningfully hybridize cinema’s temporal framework with architecture’s conventionally conceived representative schema (plans and sections, for example); for one runs the risk of portraying a collection of time-images which fail to address the “host of banal questions” “that suddenly become disquieting” in evaluating 9 Ibid., 202 10 Stiegler, Bernard. Technics and Time 3: Cinematic Time and the Question of Malaise, (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 2011) 24 11 Croset, 207

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the relative success of the project. 12 Ultimately the project must remain “knowable,” along the lines of Schulz’s conception of knowing “a place.” 13 The representation of kinesthetic movement does not suffice as architecture, nor architecture sensitive to phenomenological concerns, nor does it strive for a hybridized (archi-cinematic) representational modality for capturing the experiential qualities of space. 14

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hile the cinematographic medium provides a means for addressing the nature of temporality within critical architectural discourse, cinema inherently presents a number of inevitable contradictions of construction. Firstly, the notion of establishing or generating the affect of phenomenological presence on film is an inherently paradoxical construction. The supposed presence of cinema’s illusory capabilities points instead to the absence of real subjects or a real scene. Moreover, the technique of cinematic montage will nevertheless belie the experiential or timebased reality of physical presence or inhabitance within a space. Cinema presents a “poetics” of phenomenological criticality through self-referential meta-statements that point to the temporal nature of the medium. 15 Secondly, cinema’s unquestioning privileging of the image perhaps unfairly emphasizes vision as the primary means of sensory perception. Ultimately what we see on screen is an approximation of the flux and complexity of direct experience, so cinema’s functional reproductions 12 Croset lists such mundane examples as: “where does one enter the building? where is the kitchen? what is the light like in this space? what does one see out of the window?” Mundane as they might be, it is a testament to the responsibilities of the architect. Croset, 204 13 Christian Norberg-Schultz, “The Phenomenon of Place.” (Architectural Association Quarterly 8, no. 4, 1976) 14 I am always reminded, in discussions of sense perception and experience, of the title of Olafur Eliasson’s 2008 MoMA exhibition, “Take Your Time…” I see a formative distinction between an appreciation or an acknowledgement of the lived-experience in a building—and an understanding of definitively experiential qualities of space through the engagement of a mental reconstitution (hopefully instigated by means of some kind of narrative or temporal representation of space)—the latter actually takes time again (not necessarily a moment-by-moment simulation of the building’s immediate experience, yet nonetheless is a temporal activity in itself ), and as we shall see, forms the concreteness and transformative capacity of an entirely new spatial experience. 15 Bernard Steigler refers to cinema as a temporal object whose speed can be controlled and manipulated; cinema demonstrates an internal time-code that may or may not synchronize with the audience’s filmic experience (time is thus condensed, expanded, or synchronized). In cinematic constructions of pure synchronicity, the viewers may experience cinematic time grafted onto their own time. Steigler, 28.


of sound and image from within a space are quite obviously a limited profile of experiential spacetime. The “eye” of the camera both is and is not an automatic receptacle objectively documenting a scene—the technological apparatus of the cinema seems to characterize the camera’s lens as rote documentation. At the same time, the camera is by necessity a subjective eye—the cinematic vocation dictates that it is the filmmaker who manipulatively curates an understanding of spatial experience by choosing what to see and when to see it. Hence cinema’s conflicted relationship with the primacy and sensuous complexity of lived experience—it is always-already an altered rendition or mediation of direct experience. 16

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he theory of architectural phenomenology is predicated in a means for knowing a space—for validating the subjective qualities of space and location. The unifying intellectual concept is the “Husserlian notion of intuition;” as intuition is an essentially subjective phenomenon, the philosophical discourse inculcated within the theory of architectural phenomenology emphasizes the significance of subjective interpretations in architecture. 17 Intentionality is a grounding insight in phenomenology; to know is to know something real and present—thought is motivated and directed towards an implicit object. 18 For Schulz, space is conceived primarily in regards to its “existential dimension”—that is, the individual validates the existence of space. 19 The concept of genius loci denotes the essence of place, described as “a qualitative, ‘total’ phenomenon,” which we cannot reduce to any of its constituent properties, such as spatial relationships, “without losing its concrete nature out of sight.” 20 While the philosophical underpinnings of phenomenology sought a “return 16 Joan Ockman writes on Bachelard, “Despite its perceptual sophistication, the eye cannot necessarily go beyond a description of surface: ‘Sight says too many things at the same time. Being does not see itself. Perhaps it listens to itself.’” Joan, Ockman. “The Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard.” Harvard Design Magazine, Representations/ Misrepresentations. Number 6. Fall 1998. 79-80 17 Jorge Otero-Pailos, “A Polygraph of Architectural Phenomenology” (Chapter 1 in Architecture’s Historical Turn: Phenomenology and the Rise of the Postmodern), 17 18 Vivian Sobchack, The Address of the Eye: A Phenomenology of Film Experience. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992.) 19 We might remind ourselves here of the representation of Steven Holl’s project by Spirit of Space. What does he validate in these films? 20 He defines the essence of place as an underlying “environmental character,” comprehensively and perhaps affectively understood as “atmosphere.” Schulz

to things,” somehow the concept of genius loci sustains reliance on intellectual conceptualization. For Schulz, architecture engages in a “poetics” of “concretization” or materialization of the spirit of place; architecture is understood as a manifestation of the fundamental and unchanging genius of site, preserved materially in built form. 21

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hile Schulz’s framework for a phenomenology of architecture theoretically validates the primacy of perception and direct experience as an interface for experience, he offers little in the way of describing or animating the poetics of creation that he argues for. Schulz avoids a discussion of moment in which our intellectual understandings of these spatial conditions (abstractions, rather) are confronted, physically affirmed, and corporeally experienced (rarely, if ever, in both Theorizing a New Agenda for Architecture and Genius Loci, does he discuss architectural interiors). In describing the conditions of genius loci through totalizing (hence singular) principles, he facilitates quite little within discourse of phenomenological presence (apart from instilling his totalizing architectural lexicon). His framework for the nature of the built environment exists now as it always has been, offering little to mobilize or activate new visions of architecture’s potential, denying the practice of architecture the agency to be something other than it is (genius loci), and denying the possibility of an internal dialectic for what architecture ought to be.

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n postulating a framework for architectural phenomenology, Schulz neglects a discussion of the experiential microelements of sense perception. Fundamentally, human consciousness manifests itself through perception. In this framework, “looking at our physical environment” may be considered an “act of perception” directed at an “object of perception.” 22 Through an appeal to our consciousness, phenomenology relies on “the primacy of experience and perception…to set in motion all the complexities of lived experience” as opposed to than to “[grounding] the work in an abstract notion of ideal form.” 23

21 In this framework architecture forever-appeals the essentialist nature of genius loci. 22 Graham James Cairns, “Cinematic Phenomenology in Architecture: The Cartier Foundation, Paris, Jean Nouvel” (Akademeia, Vol 2, Issue 1, 2011) 108 23Stan Allen, from Practice: Architecture, Technique and Representation (New York, NY: Routledge, 2009) 112

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nderlying the discussion of cinema’s contribution to phenomenological architecture, or the experience of architecture through a phenomenological perceptual lens (whichever it may be) is an affirmation of the notion that phenomenological presence is produced “in the experience of the world, not in the hypothetically pure and prior space of intentionality.” 24 Or put differently, phenomenology foregrounds “the ideality of conception with the contingency of perception.” 25 Accordingly, the experiential aspects of space are best captured by a medium most closely aligned with our anatomical mode of optical and phenomenal perception. 26 Culturally audiences remain sensitive to the expectation for the automatic mechanization of the camera ensuring the truth and experiential objectivity of that which is depicts. When cinema captures “particulate matter” such as dust and lint, or when it captures a certain quality of light not anticipated, it simultaneously amplifies the authentic value of the representation while simultaneously enhancing its overall sense of mystery. Schulz’s argument misses the manner in which architecture engages the poetics of everyday experience—an appreciation of the micro-realities of material presence, in addition to the macroconditions of perceivable reality. Cinematic “vision” or “seeing” in this respect, translates to an experience of the film’s uniquely simulated diegetic world, the underlying nature of cinema’s “doubleness.”

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roset’s evocation of the fiction of the ideal magazine theorizes the notion of the lossless transmission of sensory information, effectively enabling a singular experiential reality. In this fiction, the reader of an architectural publication is able to perfectly conceive of the architect’s authorly intent, granting the reader the unique opportunity to mentally reconstruct and perceptually inhabit an experiential idea of the space. Everyday life is constantly mediated by sense perception, reception, and transmission. The immersive qualities of cinema in establishing a complete sensory system may function as an investigative tool for the approximation of sensory experience. Efficacy in representing or simulating the direct and immediate experience of built form is a complex issue fully entrenched in both the philosophical underpinnings of phenomenological discourse as well as film

24 Hal Foster quoted by Stan Allen, 112 25 Ibid. 26 The metaphorical construction of the camera as a critical “eye” is quite telling in this context, as it ultimately represents the point-ofviews of both the audience and the filmmaker

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theory. At the core of this discourse is question of the transmission of perceptual information: is there a representational means or strategy for transmitting the experiential dimensions of space and architecture without compromising the fidelity of spatial experience? 27

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he temporal, diachronic and sequential aspects of cinematic montage contribute to an experiential understanding of choreographed architecture in ways that the synchronous experience of the built object cannot achieve— in providing a collective view or image for an audience, the cinematic experience of the built object presents a creative reconstruction of lived experience. Cinematic montage assimilates its own sphere of stimuli in the same selective manner. The ramifications for the discourse on architectural representation are clear—architectural representation need not strive for verisimilitude or a lossless reconstruction of the built environment in order to simulate and instigate aspects of the experiential qualities of space—for not only is the experiential dimension of space in its real and material presence constantly in flux, dynamic and changing, but it has been (or ought to be) already curated by the intentionality of the architect. For a built project, there exists no objective standard by which to evaluate the fidelity of the experience of being within the space—save for those qualities of spatial design expressly relevant to and demonstrative of the architect’s intent.

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oving beyond the idealized conception of critical engagement via the architecture magazine, Croset reminds us that ultimately, the preference and predisposition of the individual is as inhibiting a factor to limiting or restricting critical engagement in architecture. He elaborates that: “not all architects wish to see their buildings analyzed on the basis of real experience; not all readers demand to know anything beyond the image they see.” 28 But Croset is dissatisfied with this as a contemporary condition, and strives for a living architectural discourse that thrives between the engagement of the architect, the critic, and the public sphere—a combinatory of participants indistinguishable within the binary opposition of theory / practice. In his vision, the audience (that is, the reader of the magazine) engages in (what can only be called) a 27 In contrast, the notion of transmission as it relates to cinema is tied to the verisimilitude of the cinematographic image in approximating visibly perceived reality. 28 Croset, 207


creative mental reconstruction of the architectural project through his or her unique interpretation of a project’s experiential qualities. This vision of architectural discourse posits engagement with all manifestations of architectural production ranging from publication, built form, to architectural representation. Most notably, rather than privileging the experience of a single manifestation or interpretation of a project over another—Croset calls for a critical approach in architecture that engages the experiential aspects of space first and foremost—but also continues to engender new and unique interpretations or conceptions of the experiential regime.

the existing stimuli of architectural representation. Notably this is a process that can occur regardless of whether the project is materialized in built form or not. Here Croset characterizes the act of critical reading in terms of a surrogate experience of the project’s immediate experiential affect, at a remove primacy of physical presence: …the process of transmission of experience,which involves the narrator and the listener, is not a closed process but rather an open one: experience, during the operation of transmission, undergoes a transformation. If we relate this to architecture, we can say that the form of narration not only allows the reader to imagine an experience inside the building, but puts him in a condition mentally to connect this imaginative experience to the design work of the architect. In fact, the architect too must imagine the experience of the space that he is designing… 31

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n architectural practice that considers and critically engages the notion of temporality considers not only “real-time” or the immediate experience of inhabiting a structure and witnessing the changing aspects of material presence over time, but will inevitably consider how temporality informs (or perhaps reforms) the representational schema of the architectural project; the communication of a spatial construction informed or transformed by time becomes a secondary experience (a first remove from the primacy of built form—the primary order of experience 29) for the architect to consider. Put differently, the experience of time must inevitably become implicated in the way the architectural project is documented, represented, and reproduced for a critical audience of peers, theorists, and readers: …publishing a building in terms of a narrative logic ideally means representing the process of transformation of experience that the architect transmits to the user, the critic, the reader—that which passes from the architect’s projected experience to the lived experience of the actual building, to the experience of the critical narration, to the imagined and desired experience of the readers of the magazine. 30

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ccording to this logic, the critical reception of an architectural work involves an active transformation of the reader’s individual experience, as opposed to passive consumption of the project’s sensuous images. To engage the experiential aspects of space is thus a matter of spending the time to imaginatively reconstruct and perhaps even reinvent 29 Bernard Stiegler characterizes this is as primary retention, the first order of perceptual and cognitive responsiveness. 30 Croset, 206

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he cinematic apparatus, as an inherently phenomenological perceptual tool hosting a number of self-implicated contradictions and paradoxes, avails itself to the representation and critical engagement of architecture embedded and/ or engaged in temporal frameworks. Architecture’s meaningful experimentation with the framework of time may very well enable a critical “poetics” of phenomenological experience basted on lived experience. Whatever form this interdisciplinary hybridization or cross-disciplinary contamination takes (the nature of that relationship being beyond the scope of this paper), it privileges an experiential approach towards sensing and perceiving the material, haptic, auditory, and emotional qualities of spatial construction. As architecture broaches the design challenge of introducing temporality within its representational schema, we may find ourselves confronted with an interpretative model, where “all the architect does is to put forward a world—which we previously called a structure of experience. Such a world is by nature incomplete in the sense that it is not a simple object, but rather a structure of relationships connecting to the world of the inhabitant.” 32

31 Croset, 205 32 Croset, 209

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Electroacoustic Sound on Film: New Directions for the Discourse on Audio-Vision Melodie Yashar New Directions in Film and Philosophy Spring 2014

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hat matters for cinema is that music, or its rhythmic ghost, should accompany the vicissitudes of the visible. What it imposes everywhere – nowadays in everyday life – is a certain dialectic of the visible and the audible… We regularly give in to the emotion aroused by a strange blend of existence and music, a musicalized subjectivation, a melodious accompaniment of the drama, a an orchestral punctuation of the cataclysm… All of that injects into representation a music without music, a music freed from musical problems, a music borrowed and returned to its subjective or narrative pretext. 1

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he work of sound theorist Michel Chion, author of Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen, aspires to provide insights into the perceptual processes underlying the general concept of “audio-vision” and its effects. His theory of audio-vision elucidates how sound and image are mutually transformed within the viewer’s perception. Chion accounts for the relationship of the aural and visual aspects of cinematic experience with the concept of the “audio-visual contract”—his main theory exploring the mutual influence of sound and image in audiovisual perception. Chion claims that cinema is “necessarily” founded upon an artificial relationship between sound and image, in which the sounds we hear are associatively linked to the images 1 Alain Badiou, Cinema (Malden, Massachusetts: Polity, 2013), 237

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we see, and cognitively reconstructed as “part of the process of filmic construction.” 2 Sound and image transform one another in the filmgoer’s perception not because of any “natural harmony” between image and sound, but owing to the principles of the audiovisual contract, wherein, the two perceptions mutually influence each other in lending “their respective properties by contamination and projection.” 3 In this framework, sound “adds value” to the image on screen. 4 Synchronicity between sound and image almost always demands that the filmgoer interpret the image differently; for that reason Chion does not simply describe the relationship of sound to screen in terms of cognitive association, but he characterizes them as “synergetic”—they enter into a contract within the filmgoer’s perception. 5 “Synchresis” is Chion’s unified concept for the functional interaction of sound and image, or the “spontaneous and irresistible weld produced between a particular auditory phenomenon and visual phenomenon when they occur at the same time.” 6

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he central tenet of Audio-Vision— adopted by this analysis as a means of exploring the ramifications of electronic sound production (now practically ubiquitous given the digital format of filmmaking) and in 2 Jordan Randolph, “Film Sound, Acoustic Ecology and Performance in Electroacoustic Music” (Music, Sound and Multimedia: From the Live to the Virtual. Ed. Jamie Sexton. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), 15 3 Michel Chion, Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen (Trans. Claudia Gorbman. New York: Columbia UP, 1994), 9 4 Chion, 8-9 5 Ibid, 23 6 Ibid, 63


particular the artistic proclivities of electroacoustic sound-art (the domain of computer music, analog electronic music, and tape music) —is that cinematic sound and image are counterparts in the construction of a film’s meaning, are instrumental in making meaning, and fundamentally affect the perceptual and sensorial experience of cinema. 7 The question of applying electroacoustic sound principles to the synchresis of audio-vision has as of yet demonstrated a fundamental divide in the nature of its (elitist) aesthetic ambitions and the nature of cinema as a mass art; namely, electroacoustic sound explorations on film are almost always categorically typified as experimental. The discourse of cinema’s fundamental “impurity” parallels and illuminates the contemporary state of digital sound production (more of a de-facto condition than an artistic proclivity) originating historically from the artistic practices involved with electro-acoustic sound art. The signs and remnants of the artistic (that is, “high-brow”) linage of electroacoustic sound are more often than not practically undistinguishable in mainstream cinematic production. Nonetheless, I would argue that the digital format provides new potential for a meaningful synthesis dissolving the categorical divide between experimental and nonexperimental sound-on-film—some of which already occurs by virtue of the commonness with which sound is post-synchronized to screen.

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his paper seeks to investigate the theoretical and philosophical implications (as opposed to the practical aesthetic applications) by which a cinematic practice today may actively engage (or perhaps thwart) established principles of soundon-film and the psycho-associative relationship of audio-vision through formal, aesthetic propositions on the synchresis of electroacoustic sound (and music) on screen.8 Naturally almost all films engage the subtleties of sound design, particularly in the case of Hollywood, but only a small sampling of this topic’s principles have been explored cinematically in sporadic but telling examples since the 60s. In Film Fables, Jacques Rancière discusses cinema as not only an artistic practice, but as “an object of thought” constantly threatened by the paradoxes implicit in the oppositions of critical and practical discourse. The illusion of cinema (be it experimental or not) as a pure art form becomes Rancière’s notion of a film fable; should one intend to extract, 7 Although, traditionally speaking, the image has tended to receive more critical and theoretical attention in this regard. 8 I am imagining here a collection of filmmakers, or more simply a curated selection of films and filmmakers.

compartmentalize and divulge the supposed “essence” of cinematographic art from a film, it only happens in reference or in recourse to the discussion of another narrative art form or media. 9 Rancière conceives cinema as simultaneously constituted but also subverted by its practitioners, who “thwart” pre-existing fables of cinema by inverting them, calling into question the anticipated forms of cinematographic art. For Rancière, to create cinema implies an engagement or dialectic with a discourse of images, or regimes of artistic production. The desire for cinematic “purity” is yet another of cinema’s fables—for modern cinema emerges in an unending state of “contradictory continuity” with entire regimes of art to have preceded it. 10 Considered the first true mass art, cinema inherently defines a paradoxical relationship. 11

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ot only does an individual work of cinema operate in “contradictory continuity” to the whole regime of contemporary cinema, but cinema too continuously contradicts the other arts—both visual (painting, photography, theater) and nonvisual (literature, poetry, music) alike. 12 Rancière portrays the creative act as an expression of received ideas, tropes and techniques negotiated by an inversion of the power of both the mimetic (or representative regime) and the aesthetic regimes of art (cinema is just as much an idea of art as an art practice itself ). Strategized as such, and cognizant of its formal and critical propositions, a film that relays these ideas cinematically effectually creates “cinema-thoughts,” and transmutes the discourse of cinema by destabilizing the status of the art-object. The art and practice of cinema thus re/produces the knowledge of received ideas from both cinema and the other, “higher” arts (this being the basis for Badiou’s understanding of cinema’s fundamental impurity) while simultaneously contributing to the oeuvre of the entire discipline. 13 The same process of meaning-making in and as cinematic discourse has slowly emerged in the discourse of audio-vision, though I would argue that electroacoustic sound in particular possesses inherent potential to challenge 9 Jacques Rancière, Film Fables (Trans. Emiliano Battista. New York: Berg, 2006), 6 10 That is, they are inevitably implicated in the aesthetic act through processes such as de-figuration. Ibid, 5 11 Badiou continues, “The basic form of the paradoxical relationship: the first great art that is mass in its essence appears and develops in an era that is the era of the avant-gardes… That is why philosophy is concerned with cinema: because it imposes a vast and obscure complex of paradoxical relationships.” Badiou, 234 12 Rancière, 5 13 Badiou, 223

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the implications of the audio-visual contract in new and provocative ways.

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ritical aesthetic propositions on the relationship of sound and image can be made through a practice finely attuned to the audio-visual contract. Through self-referential gestures and a conscious interplay of sound and image, a cinematic practice engages, participates, and progresses the discourse of sound on film. Cinematic tropes and techniques (either implemented in the past and forgotten, or that are germane to the aesthetic art and practice of cinema today) come to challenge and complicate the relationship of mainstream Hollywood cinema with experimental sound film, otherwise considered an insular genre. Electroacoustic music in particular can offer more to the audio-visual contract than just being a “soundtrack,” an added element or afterthought to a film, a reality bound by the history of sound on film as a deferred or “added” technology to the cinematic image. There is no question that in the Hollywood production environment too, the sound elements of a film (score, special effects, etc.) are secondary to the image, as most of it is added later. Since the 60s, certain cinematic works (Hitchcock in The Birds (1963), Godard in Alphaville (1965), and Antonioni in The Red Desert (1964), for example) have demonstrated the instrumentality of electroacoustically created sound in the audio-visual experience. 14 Future explorations may emerge in the hopes of acclimating the audience to more profound and meaningful explorations of sound, image, temporality and spatiality on film. Acousmatic Listening and the AudioVisual Contract

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he critical and experimental lineage of electroacoustic sound on film—its purist and abstract explorations of aural awareness and listening—begins with a reaction to the (then) revolutionary concept of electroacoustial transmission—the reproduction of a work of music through loudspeakers instead of a live performer— distancing the listener or audience from the origin of the true sound source. Michel Chion adopts French composer Pierre Schaeffer’s notion of acousmatic music, a tradition of composition and performance that strives to move beyond or deflect 14 Maurizio Corbella, “Notes for a Dramaturgy of Sound in Fellini’s Cinema: The Electroacoustic Sound Library of the 1960s.” (Music and the Moving Image Vol. 4, Issue 3. (Fall 2011), pp. 14-30. University of Illinois Press), 16

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attention from the physical detachment of sound from its source, or the elimination of the performer as an image of validation to the sound’s origin. 15 Schaeffer wanted to move beyond the “physical detachment of sound from source offered by the loudspeaker” and instead designates ‘acousmatic sound’ as an abstract concept that can apply to any sound presented “in the absence of a visual source.” 16 In this rejection of the visual element (the noisemaking origin), acousmatic music only amplifies the correlation between sound and vision, seeing the relationship as a thing or an impulse to resist, in order to experience sound as “pure” and to hear its qualities without relying on the figurative support of the sound’s origin, or knowing where the sound comes from: The designation ‘acousmatic music’ was, for Schaffer, geared towards presenting sound compositions in which the audience is called upon to hear and focus on the sounds as self-contained objects. Schaeffer posited three main modes of listening: casual (listening with an ear towards the cause of a sound); semantic (listening for the meaning contained within the sound); reduced (listening to the qualities of the sound in its own right). 17 Schaeffer, as a pioneer of musique concrete, was interested in how musical composition might gear itself towards “an understanding of sound in its own right.” 18 For compositions upholding the ideas of acousmatic music, sound must be “organized in such a way that it does not evoke a sense of its own causes,” or put differently, it must achieve a level of abstraction that allows the audience to “attend to its status as pure sound, rather than sound which emanates from something recognizable in the world.” 19 While in everyday life it is almost impossible not to hear electroacoustically transmitted sound on a regular basis, the fact remains that most of what we hear “consists of music to which we attach a basic understanding of source,” 15 Which, ultimately, is the same condition as listening to a recorded composition from a loudspeaker. Chion notes that the word acousmate has come to designate “invisible sounds” or the absence of a visual source. Jordan, 4 16 Ibid, 4 17 Chion, 25-34 18 Jordan, 4 19 Another tenet for Schaeffer’s concept of acousmatic music is that sound must also be fixed on an electronic recording medium, so that it may transmitted and repeated with the sound’s same particular qualities (as no live sound is ever truly repeatable)—and in this way, the sound is made “concrete.” Ibid, 5


so that when we hear a pop song in a shopping center “we attach this voice to our knowledge of their being.” 20 With acousmatic music, we are unable to attach sources or voices or the sounds we hear. 21 Schaeffer’s notion of the acousmatic is an ideal for maintaining sound as an object of intense scrutiny; the question as to whether we are truly able to block associative connections when listening to sound in isolation from the image (or watching film without sound, for that matter) is a challenging one, though Schaeffer insists that we resist the temptation or instinct. The concept is an ideal that challenges the visually based paradigm for musical performance, but likewise raises questions on the issue of sound functioning referentially, or functioning to signify a known or identifiable origin (the voice of a pop star, the blaring sounds of a car) carries its significance to sound on screen.

with knowledge of its source, the ideal in Schaeffer’s conception of acousmatic music. 23 Chion distinguishes the parallel experiences of acousmatic and cinematic sound, while acknowledging a distinction in the acousmatic’s larger theoretical goals. The main and most significant difference of course between purely aural art and cinema, is the introduction of audiovisual synchronization—a cornerstone of referentiality and processes of signification between sound and image. Synchronized sound and image engage in a feedback loop of verification—as sound attests to the sense and validity of the image, the image attests to the verisimilitude of the sound: In the end… cinema’s simplification of the concept of the acousmatic is a function of well-established conventions of audiovisual synchronization: if a given sound and image are synchronized on screen, then the source of the sound can be found in the image. Remove this synchronization and we have an instant recipe for acousmatic sound, regardless of whether or not the sound itself is abstract or referential in nature. 24

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he notion of the acousmatic illuminates key aspects of the relationship between sound and image within cinema, or moreover all audiovisual media. In Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen, Chion adopts the idea of the “acousmatic” for sound film theory, and discusses the audience’s ability to identify a (hidden) sound source in terms of “passive” and “active” modes. The passive mode represents a reaction on the part of the audience to a sound, such as bird song or traffic noise, which does not provoke the listener to question the sound’s sources (we would naturally assume that birds chirping or the sound of traffic are part of the diegetic soundscape or environment of the scene). In the active mode, however, the audience and/or the characters in the film are led to question the source of an acousmatic sound; “we may hear an unidentified sound that leads us to ask: what was that? Where did it come from?” 22 Chion argues:

The significance of the acousmatic as a pure, idealized circumstance illuminating the nature of the audiovisual relationship could also be understood in the parallel terms of diegetic and extra-diegetic sound in cinema. Naturally the signification of what is on-screen versus off-screen will rely heavily on narrative context (in the case that it is relevant) and the general character or genre of the film at hand. Passive off-screen sound remains neutral, designed to be ignored by the listener. Active off-screen sound does exactly the opposite: creating a desire in the listener, and perhaps in a character in the film, to seek out the cause of the sound. In either case, sound is not the object of scrutiny in and of itself. 25

Films focus on acousmatic sound without the intention of treating it as an abstract object to be extracted from the context that comes 20 Ibid, 5 21This concept depends of course on whether the timbre, frequency, and other acoustic properties of the sound are recognizable to a listener or not—with the general assumption being that the microtonal range of electroacoustic instruments. While Schaeffer’s concepts primarily address the distinction between live musical performance and the (still novel) transmission of pre-recorded sound, his ideas nonetheless hold powerful implications for sound on film, particularly in regards to audiovisual synchronization. As long as sound is amplified through a loudspeaker (as is the case for a majority of contemporary cinema), evidence of the original sound source is lost and meaningful “reduced” listening may occur. 22 Ibid, 5

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eyond “purist” situations of artistic production, one cannot help but ask whether the optimum sound condition for listening attentively (reduced listening) would necessarily be in isolation from the referentiality of the image, which would 23 Chion, 25 24 Jordan, 5 25 Ibid, 6

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contaminate or at the very least complicate the overall auditory experience.

the vast majority of films we find a tendency towards using sound to create the feeling of a stable environment even where the picture might suggest otherwise. This is most evident in the use of continuous soundscapes during scenes in which the picture editing is intended to be as ‘invisible’ as possible. This is one reason why the standard shot-countershot scenario for conversation between two characters is not as disorienting as it should be. If a cut in the soundscape was heard every time a cut in the image was seen, the experience would be far more jarring, if only for the reason that we have not been trained to internalize the convention of abrupt sound edits in the way that we have come to terms with continuously changing shots on the image track. 28

One major hypothesis of Deleuze’s is: cinema thinks with images, ‘image’ meaning the presence of time. But does cinema really have to be thought on the basis of the category of images?... Not to criticize Deleuze, then, but simply to wonder if there isn’t something else in cinema, another philosophical resource, a broader possibility than that of the image as transformation of the thinking of time. I’d like to examine the exact role of the notion of ‘image’ in cinematic creation, to investigate the conditions of production of the cinema image. 26 If we are to consider the time-image as a selfreferential or “purist” experiential ideal in regards to image, perhaps similar correlations may be drawn for the design of synergetic sound-image relationships on screen, and in particular from the theoretical and conceptual origins of electroacoustic sound production and musique concrete. Synchronicity and Cinematic Realism

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he insistence on verisimilitude in the construction of cinematic images privileges the immersive, affective, and sensorial conditions by which the audience suspends disbelief and surrenders to a spacio-temporal experience. Inherent in the illusion of the cinematic image is the audience’s expectation that cinema will profess the truth of reality or the truth of the world as we see and sense it. Badiou states, “cinema creates a temporal feeling that is distinct from lived time.” 27 The Hollywood interest in perfected sound synchronization (creating the perfect sonic backdrop or soundscape for a scene, for example) expresses a commitment to realism that is part psychoacoustic and part aesthetic. Indeed, there may be times when a sonic backdrop or soundscape fabricated to maintain the illusion of a scene may resonate as more real than if an actual recording of that setting were simply reproduced to maintain integrity and continuity with a sonic environment: The sound field should remain stable and not disrupt the spectator’s feeling of immersion within the soundscape of the film. Indeed, in 26 Badiou, 225 27 Ibid, 236

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he desire for ultra-real sonic soundscapes is undoubtedly a matter of technique and expertise for the (Hollywood) sound designer, and relies foremost on an engagement with the technology of the medium. But matters of technique aside, sound synchronization, as a simulacrum of reality or a realistic space, is ultimately an artistic choice dictated by the mimetic or representative regime of art. Engaging in what Chion would refer to as “passive listening” through the absolute synchronization of image and sound does little to challenge the status quo of how the movie-going public perceives the film soundtrack. The concept that gets reiterated in this framework is the notion of the image as primary and the sound secondary to the hierarchy of intelligibility in cinema (here Ranciere would revel in the paradoxical nature of cinematic illusionism; we might elucidate this relationship with the assumption that the viewer believes or trusts more readily in the authenticity of the image). Unmediated recording does little other than reiterate conventional ideas on sound and synchronicity. Whereas, should sound drift between conditions of presence (pure synchronicity) and absence (the score of the film or extra-diegetic sound being “source-less” entities drifting in and out of audible focus) interesting propositions emerge in regards to the relationship of diegetic versus extradiegetic sound with the cinematic image. Novel explorations of the relationship between audio and image with the intent or motive to engage “active” listening in cinematic experience may emerge from notably un-advanced technical means or technique. 28 Jordan, 8


Put differently, realism or true-to-life rendering of a scene (via the cinematographic machine of Rancière) is certainly not the only, and not necessarily the most successful means in communicating ideas that actively and self-consciously engage the nature of the audio-visual contract on film; unaltered live recording does little other than accept and restate predictable ideas on the synchronicity of sound to image. Badiou discusses Godard’s treatment of sound in urbanity as an example: What is cinema’s relationship with this sonic chaos? Either it reproduces the sonic chaos (but in that case it is not a creation) or else it cuts through it in order to rediscover, to give birth to a new simplicity of sound. This is once again a synthesis. For the idea is not to deny the sonic chaos – if you deny it, you give up talking about the world as it is – but to recreate a pure sound out of this sonic chaos, out of today’s terrible musics, out of that sort of typical loud beat… Godard transforms the sonic chaos into a murmur, like a sort of new silence made from the noises of the world. It is the invention of a silence contemporary with the sonic chaos, and if we could then hear a secret the world were confiding. 29

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adiou cites the aforementioned Godardian technique of “dirty sound” (inaudible phrases, superimposition of sounds, parasitical noises, etc.) as a deliberate reaction to the “permanent rhythmic background” of urban society, which Godard “transforms into in adulterated murmur.” 30 Inherent in Godard’s representation of “dirty sound” is a response to unquestioning cinematic portrayals of contemporary acoustic ecologies. Badiou writes, “in current production there is an imposition of sound, or a submission to the demand… for a permanent rhythmic background accompanying every activity.” 31 The contextualization of sound within the urban environment is the domain of acoustic ecology. In fostering an “awareness of sound” within the context of environments that demand the use of our other senses at the same time, the listening experience is inherently in opposition to the principles of acousmatic music. 32 While acoustic ecology 29 Badiou, 228 30 Ibid, 140, 228 31 Ibid, 140 32 See also Barry Blesser and Linda-Ruth Salter, Spaces Speak, Are You Listening; Experiencing Aural Architecture (MIT Press, 2007) for a discussion of auditory spatial awareness, and the way in

engages the saturation of noise in the context of a city, taking as its basic premise the study of an environment or a context through a specialized attention to sound, the acousmatic ideal privileges the absence of contextual infiltration. Aesthetic explorations of synchresis in cinema can contribute a sense of spatiality to the audio-visual experience. Electroacoustic sound film can make critical propositions about our sense of time and space within cinema. 33 Electroacoustic music in particular I believe can offer critical insight to contemporary states of being, allowing us to become more finely attuned to the ambient and drowned noise of our environments (listening acutely as opposed to drowning out). 34

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he aesthetic trajectory of sound film is one fundamentally tied to the development of sound and recording technology as well as the evolution of audiovisual technology. At the heart of the historical advancement of both sound and cinematic-reproduction technology is the discourse of fidelity—the reproduction of sound and image as virtually indistinguishable from reality, or at least maximized to be the next-best simulated reproduction. 35 The Hollywood interest in perfected sound synchronization (creating the perfect sonic backdrop or soundscape for a scene, for example) expresses an interest in the reproduction of “loss-less” sound. The commitment to a verisimilar sonic landscape or soundscape virtually indistinguishable from reality demonstrates a commitment more inclined with contemporary theories of psychoacoustics (our cognitive reception of auralization), and less the exploration of an aesthetic or cinematic idea. Here, already we see the tension between pure and non-pure cinema in regards to intent, the expectations and modalities of Hollywood cinema – that of strict and disciplinary observance to the production of verisimilitude.

which carefully tuning in to the sound-landscape of our everyday environments may elucidate key aspects of spatial construction, mobility and use. Jordan, 10 33 Badiou mentions he was always an admirer of Tati, as a “comic genius” but also as a “researcher;’” for in Tati one may find “formal propositions about space and sound…” and “particularly in Playtime.” Badiou, 4 34This is a discourse on the “soundscape” of cities and neighborhoods attributed to sound theorist and researcher F. Murray Schaeffer, who measures the overall sound intensity of cities and curates sound walks devoted to increasing auditory spatial awareness. 35 Jordan, 12

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Renewed Relevance of Electroacoustic Concepts

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he conceptual groundings of electroacoustic music (and acousmatic music for that matter) side with approaches based in contemporary psychoacoustics, in which the sound-spectrum is evaluated according to measurable, quantifiable categories such as sound intensity, pitch or frequency, and falloff. Within this discourse the qualitative distinction between sound, music and noise matters very little, that is, the boundaries between the three are blurred due to the infinite number of microtonal frequencies. 36 Electroacoustic composition works between the categories, and for that reason challenges the traditional conception of the cinematic soundtrack as having separate and distinct sonic elements—the film score, dialogue, ambient or environmental noise, for example— sequenced and layered into a unified audio track, but which we nonetheless perceive as separate, non-integrated elements. 37 Schaeffer’s concept of “reduced” listening presents an alternative approach to the broad conception of a film’s soundtrack; Rolfe Inge Godøy describes the relationship between reduced listening and the film image as being linked in a kind of “embodied cognition,” which while I would not feign to fully understand, seeks to imbue the vagaries of audio-visual perception with the apparent intelligibility of a cognitivist framework. 38 The work of Michel Chion demonstrates an effort to a move away from the associativist cognitive tradition, in favor of a cogent theory of soundimage interaction more closely rooted in the “synergetic” paradigm. The intent here is to move beyond characterizing the relationship of audiovision in isolation from the aural or in isolation from the visual. Moreover, the acousmatic ideal may simply be a physical impossibility; the likelihood of perceiving sound or cinematic image in isolation from all other stimuli (spatial) and refraining from or simply ignoring the urge for signification, or from making associative connections in the mind for the sake of the “purity” of the experience is a 36 The issue of sound-to-music is a problematic one, as music tends to carry emotional trajectory of a film, sometimes where there may be little affective substance or meaning to be felt or imparted. Chion examines this issue a great deal, though he does not 37 This isn’t to say that successful film needs to blur boundaries between or confound the distinctiveness of these audio elements, but it may offer telling and surprising outcomes. Audio production and mixing on film continues to operate in this very manner, with little collaboration between special effects, the composer, etc.; the director’s vision proves to be the single, unifying element. 38 Jordan, 14

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bit over-determined. Sense perception relies on all the senses, and the experience of sense modes other than the aural are implicated in acousmatic listening. 39 Sound, for Chion, is “trans-sensorial,” and believes it would be a mistake to regard the senses as self-contained experiences. 40 Smalley notes, “perhaps it is not surprising, therefore, that acousmatic music can be quasi-visual, as much as an aural, experience—that visual and sounding space are not easily disengaged from each other.” 41 It is only in cinematic synchresis that we can propose artistic, and especially cinematographic means for synthesized filmic practice to engage concepts of acousmatic listening, and electro-acoustics in particular.

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lectronic and computer music enables the film composer and the filmmaker to confuse the diegetic with the extra-diegetic, forcing the viewer-listener to “actively” listen and interpret the scene, in the sense Chion would describe it. The great potential in electroacoustic music is the capability to transcend tonalities and create sounds not easily identifiable or associated with a particular instrument, or a human voice. In the words of the Russian film scholar Leonid Sabaneev, “gone are the limitations of the orchestra, with its twenty or thirty timbres;” the composer could enjoy complete control over “every variety and every fantastic detail of harmony, timbre, nuance, and tempo.” 42 To this day we would generally characterize microtonal and electronic sounds enigmatically, as a “beep,” “bloop,” or “hum;” or perhaps we might characterize it as computer music. As of yet, electroacoustic music as a genre lacks the populist semantic modes and expectations of orchestral scoring—the great features of harmonic and tonal music, the residue of the Romantic Era clasped by Hollywood. Indeed, historically the aesthetic practice of electroacoustic music is rooted in the experimental and the avantgarde—but by no means has its potential been exhausted.

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ound-on-film research and artistic origins of electro-acoustic music possess great parallels in regards to technique, creative process, and an

39 Denis Smalley, “Space-form and the Acousmatic Image.” Smalley discusses the unique relationship between acousmatic listening and spatial experience in general, and in particular how we may listen for spatial attributes—what he terms “spatial forms” or conceptually speaking space-form. 40 Chion, 57 41 Smalley, 40 42 From “Music and the Sound Film,” Music and Letters, XV (1934), 149-50. James, 88


experimental attitude towards composition. Despite originating in different contexts, and notably each being ignorant of the other’s development, the techniques and aesthetic values of each are mutually implicated within the larger discourse of sound-on-film. While avant-garde sound-onfilm artists experimented with the possibilities of electroacoustic sound and music since the 30s, mainstream Hollywood cinema began to engage and feature electroacoustic sound after World War II. 43 The motivation “behind the work of electroacoustic music pioneers” was unequivocally based in a “desire for new sounds, for freedom from the limitations of the human performer and conventional instruments, and for the ability to sculpt sound directly.” 44 While I am by no means capable of sufficiently summarizing the early history of sound-on-film and the origins of experimental electroacoustics here, the creative development and advancement of avantgarde sound on film closely paralleled the working methods, techniques and ideas of electro-acoustic music, especially in the development of musique concrète. 45 Essentially two techniques developed for the avant-gardists working with sound on film: “sound montage—which involves the manipulation of sounds already recorded on film, and animated or drawn sound—which constitutes the actual synthesis of sound by “application of visual animation techniques on the sound track.” 46 Early analog sound-on-film techniques functionally operate in a similar or shared manner to the compositional strategies of cinematic montage. Synchresis vs. the Soundtrack

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he challenge of mitigating the desire to issue progressive propositions on the nature of cinema’s audio-visual contract with the technological prowess expected of Hollywood sound production presents a paradoxical range of issues for the filmmaker. In the movie industry’s constant striving for seamless verisimilitude, production houses possess the most advanced, nuanced and sophisticated sound production capabilities of all in order to fulfill the illusion of the film—all for 43 A few examples include the early experiments of Schaffer, Meyer-Eppler, and Ussachevsky around 1950 to the digital synthesis of the 1980s, James, 74 44 Ibid, 74 45 By 1929 the technology for sound to be recorded on-film (still in use today) had been solidified. Ibid, 75 46 Usually either drawn with paint or ink directly onto blank film, or by compiling photographed compositions of sound taken with a standard animation camera in order to produce a sound track. Ibid, 75

the sake of an “eye-witness” experience to the film’s action (granted that the film is shot live), which Rancière would describe as the camera’s ability to passively impart a vision to the world. The tension between what the technological capacity for mechanical reproduction had been (at the turn of the century this was the advent of the moving image, and in the 30s the development of the talkies with sound) is now understood as the great historical advancement or achievement of image and sound on film. And yet, seamless synchronization of sound and noise—the creation of sonic “transparency”— assumes “passive” listening within the audience, leaving little agency to the audience’s imagination. Cinematic instances employing a Romantically sobbing orchestral score are already so thoroughly engrained in the logic of Hollywood melodramas, or simply put of “impure” cinema that there is minimal transformation that can occur to “thwart” this aspect of the representational regime.

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n discussing sound film, Chion proposes a few options for transforming the aural dimension of the cinematic experience, but which inherently possess limitations given cinema’s predisposition towards “transparency” of sound and image. His examples mostly have to do with simulating the feeling of immersion and enhancing comprehension of the overall soundscape of the room in which the sound will be amplified, and as such take advantage of stereophonic equipment, the location of a sound source, and the manner in which one would perceive it within a theater, for example. 47 He remarks that the danger of exploiting these techniques cinematically include that the viewer’s attention is diverted from the inherent qualities of the sound as an object in its own right to the technology used to reproduce the sound as well as to the space in which this sound is being reproduced: “the movement of sound through space can actually distract from the ideal of acousmatic music.” 48 Chion anticipates the contemporary desire for seamless verisimilitude, or transparency in sound production, as a hindrance or conflicting force to sound production strategies aimed at transcend the “static” notion of a cinematic soundtrack, arguing that audio technologies should vanish from perception in cinematic context. Concurrently, the creation of a film without an audio soundtrack—reserved for the most part to the insular genre of the experimental—to this day 47 The interest in sonic spatialization is a cornerstone of the musique concrete movement. 48 Jordan, 9

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implies a regression to an earlier, less developed time when audio reproduction technology simply was not available or was of poorer fidelity. The technique or decision to strive for a cinema “purely” devoted to the aural dimension or “purely” based on image runs counter to the mainstream imperative of achieving seamless verisimilitude—a technically elaborate motivation driving the relentless technological advancement of the medium.

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he notion of the so-called “soundtrack” of a film demonstrates a general misconstruction regarding the status of sound in cinema—namely the expectation that sound will “function” to produce meaning in a predictable and reliable way, and willingly succumbs to an understanding of sound as “added value” to cinematic content. Consequently, the “secondary” status of sound on film (in comparison with the primacy of the image) has gradually been reinforced by the means of production in mainstream cinema. 49 Artistic integration of electroacoustic sound on film could serve to elucidate this general misconstruction, and in introducing provocative means of experiencing audio-visual interplay, suggest an alternative framework for the reception of sound on screen. At the core of this interaction is the relationship of the diegetic to the extra-diegetic; privileging the contents of the image and post-rationalizing sound design would hardly achieve meaningful synergy, and likewise vice-versa. The constituent elements of film production are cross-referentially constructive in regards to meaning; the narrative component of a film (if any) is affirmed and reified by mise-enscene, etc. The question for the filmmaker then becomes by what means or what values would one arrive upon a synergetic understanding of sound and image; how then, do sound and image function to create meaningful conceptual cinematographic experiences?

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he idea of “rhythm” in sound and montage is a close substitute for a shared or synergetic experience of sound and image, and portrays the general impression of audio-vision as mixed sensations. Chion discusses rhythm as 49 Generally speaking, for budgetary and other logistical reasons, the film is shot first, and the sound is either shot live on film or post-synchronized once the filming is complete. Sound mixing, editing and the composition of the score are left very little time to complete their jobs before the film is complete (and frankly are offered close to no creative flexibility). By no means am I claiming this to be a rule; I Am Love (2009) notably features an operatic score by John Adams, with which portions of the shooting were synchronized, as if the film were a music video.

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“fundamentally trans-sensorial due to its corporeal basis (proprioception), and to the omnipresence of rhythm, including visual rhythm.” 50 Likewise, Badiou’s discussion of rhythm suggests an interest in a shared vocabulary of effect by which sound and image may be spoken of as a single, perceptual and effectual phenomenon: 51 We will call ‘rhythm’ not exactly the characteristics of the editing, but a diffused temporality which fixes, even if it is a matter of a sequence shot, the tonality of the movement … Rhythm engages every element of the film… the style of acting or the intensity of the colors contribute to rhythm just as much as the speed of the succession of shots. 52 The Birds (1963) represents a second foray by Hitchcock into electroacoustic music. While Hitchcock had intended to supplement a musical score by Bernard Hermann with the sounds of pre-recorded (that is, real) birds, he became intrigued by the possibilities of electronic music after correspondence with German composer Remi Gassman and Oskar Sala, who had pioneered composition with the Mixtur-Trautonium. 53 Ultimately the birds were composed electronically, in a strangely ironic gesture that affirms synchronicity between sound and image but presents complex implications for transparency. The Birds presents narrative conditions altogether irreproducible in reality, as and as such, refutes a real-world correlate for a fully verisimilar or transparent sound-effect.

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hat is interesting about Badiou’s description of rhythm as a single, perceptual and effectual phenomenon to capture the acoustic and visual experience of cinema is that the very word, rhythm, is a metaphorical construction embedded within the realm of musical discourse. What I would propose, as an alternative, is the notion of sonic texture—a term which accommodates the dissonant, atonal and chaotic predispositions of electroacoustic 50 Smalley, 39 51 In their famed “Sound Manifesto” (1928), Sergei Eisenstein, Vsevolod I. Pudovkin, and C. V. Alexandrov insisted on “distinct, non-synchronization [of sound] with the visual image” and insisted that sound be “treated as a new montage element.” James, 78. Richard Kostelanetz, Moholy-Nagy (New York, 1970), 136 Peter Dart, Pudovkin’s Films (New York, 1974), 138. 52 Badiou, 147 53 Hitchcock sent a rough cut of the scene to Berlin where Gassman and Sala were working, and the results convinced Hitchcock that this alone would suffice for the score. Albert Glinsky, Theremin, Ether Music, and Espionage (University of Illinois Press, 2000)


composition to create noise, and which relies synesthetically on the haptic in order to produce a mental correlate between audio and vision. While rhythm is suggestive of a clearly defined beat, or tempo evocative of normative time signatures—none of which, tellingly, could adequately characterize or define the nature of the birds—texture implies a field condition of resonance and effect. Texture, while perhaps still an approximation of the synergetic phenomenon, demonstrates the new implications for electronically-composed and generated sound within audio-visual discourse. Through meaningfully explored synchresis, applications of electroacoustic sound on film possess inherent potential to critically engage the nature of the audio-visual contract, and make formal propositions on the relationship of image to sound. The application of electroacoustic sound on film holds inherent potential to create cinema cognizant of the associative and relativist relationship between sound and image, and approach cinema as a system of meaning-making, part of and within the larger discourse of audio-vision and contributing valuable thought-images on the nature of the audio-visual contract.

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