pantheon// 2019 | funk

pantheon// biannual publication of d.b.s.g. stylos / issue 2 / volume 24

FUNK

AUTHOR POTENTIAL 2ND AUTHOR

57

funk [fᴧŋk]

1. noun; A genre of dance music, related to jazz and the blues, often with a strong recurring bass line and syncopation.

“Man, this party is lame, I wish they would play some funk.”

2. noun; A state of fear, nervousness, or depression.

“MA1 has got me in a bit of a funk.”

3. noun; A strong, foul odour.

“Jacob’s room has got a strong funk to it.”

4. noun (archaic); A coward.

“Paul won’t tell her how he really feels… what a funk.”

“Tov has a funky ringtone!“ 1. adjective; Of or pertaining to Funk; also; unconventional, authentic, or eccentric.

funky [fᴧŋkɪ]

02

biannual publication of study association Stylos faculty of Architecture, TU Delft Colophon: Volume 25, issue 1, January 2020 2.300 prints Stylos members and friends of the Stylos Foundation receive the pantheon// Editorial Office: BG.midden.110 Julianalaan 132-134 2628 BL Delft pantheon@stylos.nl QQ (qualitate qua): Basia van Vliet, Roos te Velde Editors: Christopher Clarkson Maud Meijer Lara Walters Dorsa Ghaemi

Wieke van Lookeren Campagne Mees van Rhijn

Layouters: Tov Frencken, Mees van Rhijn, Laura Savenije & Isa van Bussel To This Issue Contributed: Architect Jo Noero as interviewee, Rebecca Baugh as Guest Editor, Stephan Bastiaans as Guest Editor, Casper Hylkema as Guest Editor, The Chepos Comittee from TU Eindhoven with Sergio M. Figueiredo as Guest Editor, David Marcinek, Mees Paanakker, Jolt Wiersma and Eddy Brunelli as HoBK interviewees, Iason Vovos as cover artist.

Advertisements 32 | Design Express 56 | Zwarte Hond Publisher: Quantes, Den Haag Cover: Iason Vovos

The Delftsch Bouwkundig Studenten Gezelschap Stylos was founded in 1894 to look after the study and student interests at the Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment at the Delft University of Technology. chairman: secretary: treasurer: education bachelor: education master: external affairs: events and initiatives:

board 126 Lenneke Slangen Valerie Heesakkers Roos te Velde Lisa Kappers Sem van den Eijnde Thijs Reitsma Yael von Mengden

contact D.B.S.G. Stylos Julianalaan 132-134 2628 BL Delft info@stylos.nl +31 (0)15 2783697 www.stylos.nl

FUNK // 04

CHAIRMAN’S NOTE

32

LENNEKE SLANGEN

JAMES TURREL: REINTERPRETING STANDARDS CASPER HYLKEMA

05

FUNK

06

@JO NOERO

34

FUNK FOLLOWS FUNCTION MEES VAN RHIJN

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

38 09

WE GOT THE FUNK

TEXTUAL HEALING LARA WALTER

REBECCA BAUGH

40 12

WANT TO FEATURE IN THE NEXT pantheon//?

ARE YOU AN ASPIRING WRITER, MAD LAY-OUTER OR JUST IN NEED OF A CREATIVE OUTLET? COME BY STYLOS OR MAIL US AT pantheon@stylos.nl

CHOCOLATE CITY

WITH THANKS TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS:

SUPERSTITION CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

STEPHAN BASTIAANS

42 15

THE LINK BETWEEN ARCHITECTURE AND MUSIC DORSA GHAEMI

19

OH FU*K CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

46

LE MEPRIS WIEKE VAN LOOKEREN CAMPAGNE & LAURA SAVENIJE

RITMIEK IN DE MAAT

REBECCA BAUGH Guest Editor

CASPER HYLKEMA Guest Editor

TOV FRENCKEN

48 22

SOUL

URBAN ART MAUD MEIJER

LARA WALTER

50 23

JAZZ

DE EINDHOVEN SCHOOL

STEPHAN BASTIAANS Guest Editor

SERGIO M. FIGUEIREDO

MAUD MEIJER

25

52

GET INSPIRED

54

HUMANS OF BK

THIS BUILDING SMELLS... FUNKY CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

SERGIO M. FIGUEIREDO Guest Editor

DORSA GHAEMI, MEES VAN RHIJN

28

RITME IN GERAMDE AARDE MAUD MEIJER

56

THE TIME IS NOW ROOS TE VELDE

30

HOLI MEES VAN RHIJN

ISA VAN BUSSEL Guest Layouter

03

COMMITTEE 2018/2019

membership Stylos €10,- per year account number 296475 Stylos Foundation The pantheon// is funded by the Stylos Foundation.

The Stylos Foundation fulfills a flywheel function to stimulate student initiatives at the Faculty of Architecture and the Built Enivronment at the Delft University of Technology. The board of the Stylos Foundation offers financial and substantive support to these projects.

ROOS TE VELDE QQ

As a friend of the Stylos Foundation you will be informed on these projects by receiving the B-nieuws every two weeks and four publications of the pantheon//. We ask a donation of €90,- per year as a company and €45,- per year as an individual (recently graduated friends of the Foundation will pay €10,- the first two years). account number 1673413 Disclaimer All photos are (c) the property of their respective owners. We are a non-profit organisation and we thank you for the use of these pictures.

BASIA VAN VLIET QQ

TOV FRENCKEN Chairman

EDITORIAL

BY CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON The word ‘Funk’ encompasses many disparate meanings. From emotions of fear to those of happiness, as the theme of this edition, ‘funk’ has provided us with an opportunity to explore a variety of interesting concepts regarding the built environment.

Similar to Funk music with its syncopation, we hope to surprise you on occasion, whilst still maintaining that groovy bassline to guide you through the magazine. Once again, we take inspiration from our theme not only in article format, but also in terms of the magazine’s overarching structure, though unlike the previous edition (MOVEMENT), which aimed to give a cohesive, novel-like experience from beginning to end, the nature of FUNK seemed to provide a looser structure, if anything, at times encouraging bit of a sporadic nature with unexpected turns. This resonates not only the musical genre, but also the adjective, FUNKY. That is not to say, though, that this edition is incoherent!

Funk has its roots in social divide, and as such, a spatial divide. This magazine begins by exploring the physical implications that were attached to the root causes, and influencers of the joyful music genre that so many today enjoy dancing to. Thereafter, the implications of musical building blocks such as rhythm, melody, and all number of other musical elements are translated into architectural analysis. As the discussions

become more general, the magazine takes on a nature not unlike jazz and goes on to explore Funk in ways that are less obvious, be that through word play, lifting lyrics from Famous funk songs, or through a kind of translation of Funk’s core meanings into spatial contexts. You might encounter articles and think to yourself, ‘Does this really fit within the theme of this magazine!?’ and I will say to you, that this is what’s known as a ‘blues note’.

Perhaps its relation to the theme appears obtuse, but it is precisely its contrasting nature that strengthens the magazine as a dynamic whole and keeps you wanting to dance along*.

This edition takes on its own identity. It is ‘of, or pertaining to Funk’. So, no, it isn’t going to let you predict what’s coming – but it is going to give you exactly what you want. I implore you, as you read further, to go put on some Parliament, Chic, The Average White Band, or Vulfpeck and keep it Funky. *Disclaimer: All articles were created while listening to only the finest funk music – the pantheon// 125 committee holds no responsibility for any spontaneous dance moves elicited by reading this magazine’s contents that could result in injury or embarrassment. Proceed at own risk. //

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON Editor-in-Chief

MAUD MEIJER Editor

LARA WALTER Editor

DORSA GHAEMI Editor

WIEKE VAN LOOKEREN CAMPAGNE Editor

MEES VAN RHIJN Layouter

LAURA SAVENIJE Layouter

PAST EVENTS

The upcoming year will be a year in which we will face difficult questions, and make tough decisions. But that is also what makes these topics interesting for us to discuss. Taking part and having discussions is a very educative for the students to take part in. While Stylos used to have a very important role within the public debate, Stylos’ voice has been muted for the last couple of years. Now, we are seeking to re-enter this debate. Sustainability will only just be the start. We want to encourage you all to join us in our dance, explore your own vision, and participate in the upcoming events in which we will add some funk.

UPCOMING EVENTS This year, the exchange is together with the University of Coimbra in Portugal.

Together with Portugese students, Stylos will get to know student life in Portugal.

Lenneke Slangen Board 126 of D.B.S.G. Stylos

DIES

In February, our association will be 126 years old. There will be several activities in and around the faculty to celebrate the birthday of Stylos.

XCHANGE

We are looking forward to share all of this in not only in this edition of pantheon//, but also every edition that follows. In addition to that, we will we posting regularly on pantheon// online and want to invite you to join us there by showing your voice. Together, we can shake it up a bit. //

In december, we closed the year together with the faculty, the students, the teachers and the staff.

A collaboration between Stylos, the Bouwpub and the faculty!

XMAS

In addition to that, we want to respond to the latest changes in society. For instance, by introducing Stylos Green we want to reduce our own footprint, make our network aware of the problems that we are facing as a society, but also activate our students to participate in the debate about sustainability themselves and create their own vision.

In the summer, the Big Trip committee organised an unforgettable trip to Brazil. Thirty students enjoyed and discovered different parts of the country for three weeks straight.

TRIP

Last year, we celebrated 125 years of Stylos. Now that we are facing a new era, we want to shake it up a bit. Stylos’ lustrum was a year in which we paid attention to history and traditions. Adding to that, we celebrated the collaboration between students and the city of Delft. A year of appreciation and looking back. This upcoming year of Stylos, is the start of a new era. A year with endless possibilities and a chance to use the knowledge we gained during our lustrum and use it to create a new vision for the coming years of Stylos. A vision in which we are progressive, ambitious and fearless.

Like every year, the Midzomernacht Festival was a success! A lot of happy people, sunlight, drinks en foodtrucks.

Several DJ’s and even an desperados bar made the day even more special.

MZN

The theme of this edition of pantheon// is funk. Funk is, as you might know, a genre of music. It’s a mixture of soul, jazz and R&B, known to be rhythmic and danceable. Music that inspires me, for this upcoming year, as it is not afraid to deviate from it’s standard.

To close the beautiful lustrum year, there was an event “Bouwen met Delft”.

Together with the whole city, Stylos built a house made of recycled cardboard.

Even the mayor helped a little!

LUSTRUM

CHAIRMAN’S NOTE

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU FUNK FUN

FU

UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN NK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK UNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK FUN

06

@JO NOERO Jo Noero is a South African architect who has worked in South Africa both during Apartheid and in post Apartheid years, completing over 200 buildings. He is a highly accomplished architect, with an earnest, and human way of approaching architecture.

Emeritus Professor (UCT), Hon.FAIA, International Fellow RIBA, Hon. Dr. (Brighton – UK),Pr. Architect SA, SAIA, CIFA

When was your first conscious realisation that there is such a thing as architecture? Is there some kind of memory that you have of architecture that could be responsible for igniting a passion for the field?

I am unfortunately one of those architects who did not have an epiphany about architecture. Let me explain – I matriculated and entered medical school – I had believed that I wanted to be a doctor from an early age – after a year of medical studies I realized it was not for me – the teaching method was no different from what I had been exposed to at school – I attended a high school in Durban which was based on a typical English public school – which meant that it was a nightmare with daily floggings and very poor teachers and I learnt literally nothing of value in four years of schooling - so learning from that experience I dropped out mid-way through my second year determined that I was not going to go through that same kind of experience again minus the floggings of course. I did various jobs and travelled around Brazil for a few years. I bumped into an old school friend after returning from Brazil who was in his final year of architecture studies and he invited me to an end of year party in the thesis studio – I was knocked out by what I saw and decided that this was what I wanted to study. I applied, was accepted with absolutely no design or art experience and became an architecture student – have enjoyed every minute since then. Thinking back I come from an Italian immigrant family and my parents and sister and myself travelled to Italy almost every year to visit family and friends and I remember my father taking me around the great cities of Europe so maybe this had something to do with my positive reaction to architecture. Who knows?

Your former colleague, Pancho Guedes, boldly ‘claimed for architects the rights and liberties that painters and poets have held for so long’. What do you make of the idea of Architecture as an artform?

I don’t believe that Pancho believed in these words – he saw them as a provocation more than anything else. In

my view architecture is an art form but is different from the other arts inasmuch as it is a practical art – namely it is brought into being in order to satisfy a purpose.

This makes it different from the other fine arts such as sculpture in which the work is made with no purpose in mind other to create a work of art. It is true that as architects we are asked to act on the work we do as artists but at the same time we do the work on behalf of other people who have their own dreams and we are paid huge sums of money to do this work to satisfy the needs of others. It is this tension between the need to express oneself freely and the need to ensure that the needs of others are met sometimes even in ways which may contradict what we want to do – this tension lies at the heart of what makes architecture so interesting and vital.

The cultural precinct in Port Elizabeth, Red Location, which you designed contains a digital library in which people from different economic and social standings are forced to meet. As you said in a Columbia lecture, “People brush shoulders with each other. Sometimes in ways they wouldn’t normally do or wouldn’t normally like but they have to do it.” Do you see it as the responsibility of the architect to steer the society politically or otherwise and why?

South Africa is a different and special case when it comes to public architecture and the like – we are in a process of transforming our society from a racist unequal one to a non-racial constitutional democracy. The Freedom Charter, Bill of Rights and the Constitution are very clear in how one exercises one’s responsibilities as both a citizen and an architect. I believe that architects need to act in accordance with these wishes so we do have a political role and we are called upon in all the work that we do to exercise our judgement to act ethically and purposefully on behalf on both our clients as well as the citizens of our cities and country.

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

07

You have said that the street is the only truly public space remaining. In an urban context how should one go about designing the street in this case?

This comment I made specifically with regard to South Africa. I am tired of architects/urban designers/planners going on about the need for open public space in our cities. We need to remake space in our cities to accommodate many more people than have lived there in the past so open public space is a scarce resource and needs to be wisely used. In my experience of cities in SA the only spaces that people use freely, creatively and imaginatively are the streets, their edges and the small spaces adjacent to the streets. So it seems quite clear to me that we need to focus on the street as the primary public space of our cities and not parks, cycle tracks, wild life preserves and so on. Cities are places where all kinds of exchange happens- where business is conducted and they importantly give shape and coherence to the order of our cities.

done without radically changing the shape and form of our cities. We need to re –imagine our cities not as unipolar cities but multi-nucleated cities tied together with efficient transport networks. This will require a leap of imagination not yet evident.

An archaic definition of ‘Funk’ is as a noun, meaning a coward. In what ways are architects cowardly today?

I do think architects are cowardly – I don’t see too many architects taking on the kind of people who employ them. By this I mean we have architects like OMA for example who talk a good talk about society but who work for example for the Chinese Broadcasting Corporation. I would have thought that an example could have been made by standing up to the clients who represent values of censorship and state control.

So yes, this attitude does cascade downwards and most architects are cowardly who do the bidding of their sponsors/clients even when they know that the values represented by these institutions are not kosher.

As a South African myself, I wonder, how should the architect of the post-colonising country such as the Netherlands respond to the sensitivities of a past that is often ignored?

Image 1: Making a settlement where two roads cross.

Funk music is often seen as an upbeat, vibrant genre of music that lifts the spirits and is fun. Architecture can sometimes be seen as something that contrastingly is inflicted upon people and is a very serious field. How do you see Architecture and its role in the happiness of people?

Architecture should make people happy – very difficult to achieve – Salvador Dali once wrote that the true test of a good work of art is that when you see it you want to eat it. I believe that the test of good architecture is that when you experience it you want to smile. This does not happen a lot – too many architects are too serious – their work is not joyous and certainly does not not bring a smile to ones face – one simply has to look at the work of architects such as Peter Zumthor to understand what I mean – unbelievably their work is lauded almost everywhere and is considered special - God forbid that I have to live in a world populated with dreary buildings so serious in intent that they offer no possibility of joy.

Funk music has a lot of its roots based in a socio-political climate of segregation. The ramifications of South Africa’s apartheid are still visible in its urban structure today. How does one go about handling such an issue as an architect?

We have a huge amount of work to undo the spatial legacy of apartheid. It will take generations to fix and what makes it even more difficult is that the fixing has got to be

I have always been interested in the Netherlands because of its close ties to our country. I recently read a book about the early proponents of apartheid and was interested to learn that Hendriek Verwoerd who was the architect of apartheid was both Dutch but more importantly was influenced in his racist ideology by a set of Dutch intellectuals who lived in Holland in the 40`s.

Similarly the Dutch people turned over proportionately more Jews to the Nazis than any other European country – so my view is that Holland needs to reflect upon its history and to not worry about helping to decolonize the former colonies. Maybe you need to reflect upon and get to grips with your own not so glorious past.

You seem quite at peace with the idea that people will adapt your buildings and make use of them how they see fit. How should one go about designing spaces that let people use them? And how does one know when it is appropriate to bend laws in favour of the people that will be using the spaces?

First of all – we make buildings for people to use – also the buildings are paid for and owned by people other than the architect so how can we claim any kind of ownership over what is done to the buildings by the owners and occupants when the architect has completed his/her work. Rather I would like to reframe the issue by asking how is it possible for architects to design their buildings to offer up to people the freedom to use/occupy the spaces in whatever ways they see

08

fit so that the architecture retains its integrity as a work of architecture. This very rarely enters our design way of thinking which means that most of our buildings are not sufficiently robust - when they are adjusted by the users the spaces lose their coherence and are sometimes rendered useless and even redundant. Regarding the law – I am happy to use whatever means is open to me to enrich the possibilities that architecture might open up to the people who use the spaces that we make. Most regulations which govern what can and cannot be done with buildings are restrictive and inhibit creativity and usefulness. In SA the vast majority of homes are built by people who build for themselves on land which they don’t own - we refer to these kinds of settlements as shack settlements or informal housing – the thing that is interesting about these settlements is that they provide a modicum of shelter – are built at no cost to the state and use recycled materials very effectively – what this suggests to me is that when left to their own devices people are more than capable of housing themselves – this is not a call for the state to remove itself from the responsibility of providing housing as a form of income redistribution.

Rather that the state should leave people to take care of those things that they can do for themselves and that the state should limit its actions to those areas where people cannot help themselves for example in the provision of bulk services and utilities and the provisions of school, clinics/hospitals and other public buildings.

are finished. In this regard the writings of Aldo Rossi are important particularly in the book THE ARCHITECTURE OF THE CITY. Rossi explains that as a result of the research he had done on the form of the traditional European city those building that offered themselves up to different uses over time were those buildings that were marked by an extreme precision of geometric form. This is amply demonstrated by church buildings which are brought into use as religious symbolic space and which over time have been able to accommodate all kinds of different uses. And it is clear that the geometry of churches in most societies is marked by an extreme precision of geometric form. So this has been a preoccupation of my practice for the last ten years or so and we have been making a number of buildings which have attempted to address the issue of change and adaptability through the use of strong geometries.

Image 4: Adaptability and Change in use, House Nxumalo - Alexandra Township

Architecture is in your words came into being to satisfy a purpose. You have said that Architecture’s ethical dimension lies in the satisfaction of this purpose. Could you elaborate on this?

Image 2 & 3: Freedom to build: Table House in Philippi (Left); Table House project at a neighbourhood scale in Philippi (Right)

You’ve mentioned weak and strong geometries. What exactly would you mean by this, and why do you advocate for strong geometries?

Strong geometries are those that are made employing the discipline of orthogonal geometries and platonic solids. Conversely weak geometries do not employ these geometries. So where does this idea come from? For a long time my practice has been concerned with the issue of adaptability – how does one design space that can both accommodate a purpose required by a commissioning body and also at the same time open itself up to a variety of different uses over time? This matter is particularly acute in the world today in which rapid technological change happens so quickly that sometimes the buildings that we are commissioned to do are redundant even before they

Architecture is a practical art and as such is borne into being in order to satisfy purpose – without purpose one cannot have architecture – it is in the satisfaction of purpose that the ethical dimension of architecture resides. Buildings cannot be ethical – they are a collection of building materials assembled in particular ways to enclose space – it is only through human agency and use that buildings assume symbolic and cultural value – in a single moment that value can be turned on its head in response for example to a revolutionary moment – for example a church can become a torture chamber through a civil war.

So where does the idea of ethics reside? I believe that ethics resides in the transactional relationship established between the client or commissioning body and the architect. It is at that moment when the architect accepts a commission that an ethical judgement is made. If one is asked to design a building which whilst satisfying the clients need is harmful to society at large then the architect can be said to have acted unethically – it is as simple as that. //

REBECCA BAUGH

WE GOT THE FUNK Image 1: The emphasis was on dancing

Image 2: The crowd were originally predominantly black, but as time went by, it became increasingly multicultural.

09

Dedicated to my beloved Grandparents, Mavis and Fred This is a title of a major 70s hit created by Positive Force. This article explores the funk scene in London during its heyday in the 1970s and 1980s. Inquiring into the cultural significance of funk, how it was represented in fashion and how the sociopolitical context was reflected in the spaces in which it was celebrated. Afterall, design does not exist in a vacuum.

Interviews with Fitzroy Facey, a DJ and current editor and director of the Soul Survivors Magazine, Barrie Sharpe, a creative extraordinaire (DJ, designer, musician, and author), and Karen Herron, a dancer and partygoer during the 1970s and 80s shed light onto the topic.

First, however, we have to go back in time, back to London just after World War II in 1948. Britain was short of workers who were needed to rebuild the UK’s weakened economy as a result of the war years. Many of these workers, who were invited from former British colonies in the Caribbean, were employed in the public transport sector or in the newly established National Health Service. Both were salient in the reconstruction plans for the country. Nevertheless, newly arrived immigrants were met with hostility founded on deep-rooted prejudice. They faced racism on a daily basis, an example of which is presented in their search to find housing when several landlords posted signs reading, “No dogs, no blacks, no Irish”. Members of this group of migrants, known as the Windrush generation, were ostracised from white British culture and society. Nonetheless, this lead to development of closely-knit communities throughout Britain.

They would come together at parties, listening to reggae music in church and town halls, and each other’s homes to feel a sense of belonging in a place where they were repeatedly spurned.

Fast-forward a few years later to the early to mid-1970s, and a new wave of music, headlined by the undisputed king of the genre, the great James Brown, has captured the attention of many children of the Windrush generation, welcoming funk into Britain. It offered a new, looser alternative to the already popular reggae. Funk has been described as a platform in which listeners are inspired to form a connection with ourselves, those around us and the earth and our environment.

These are all themes that artists, such as James Brown, wanted to translate into their music. Funk music could sometimes be about the ‘get down’, sometimes it was about the struggle, and sometimes it was simultaneously about both. Nonetheless, it presented an instance of Man.

Image 3:

10

Image 4:

Ronnie, a legendary dancer, donning a leather jacket and quiff.

Ronnie dancing in the middle of the dancefloor while people cheer him on

Understanding Spiritual Information Clearly, an acronym for MUSIC coined by Kenneth Salaam, a friend of Kenny Gamble of PIR Records. Both Fitzroy Facey and Barrie Sharpe, two important figures in the British funk scene, described listening and dancing to funk music as being a holy, religious experience, where they felt a sense of oneness, euphoria and balance. It also presented an opportunity for people to escape and immerse themselves fully in music and dance.

For Facey, a child of parents from the Windrush generation, dancing to funk music was when he, his generation and the generation before him felt like they could express themselves, when they felt like they were somebody, when they felt empowered, despite growing up in an environment that acted discriminatory towards them. For example, on occasion Facey was considered British by his white peers when it was convenient for them. However, he was Caribbean when it was no longer suitable, notwithstanding that he is a product of both cultures. Moreover, there was also implicit racism demonstrated by the little positive representation of black people who looked like him in the media. While more explicit examples of racism include how black people were often prohibited from entering clubs or pubs, as they were ‘bad for business’. They danced and drank Ribena, a blackcurrant juice, and lemonade as opposed to buying alcoholic drinks served at the bar. Nevertheless, the escapism that listening and dancing to funk offered was not limited to one racial group. There was a unifying characteristic about the genre that brought people from contrasting cultural backgrounds together. For instance, Barrie Sharpe, a white Londoner from the East End who had a turbulent childhood, describes dancing in a funk club as the first time he felt like he belonged.

The oneness of people dancing confidently on the dancefloor and expressing themselves was also translated into fashion and the clothing people wore. A person’s music taste could be deduced by the distinct styles associated with different music genres like reggae, funk and punk. The two former styles and music genres were popular with black people in Britain who wanted to express their pride and blackness positively; albeit it have been in varying ways. As was previously mentioned, reggae was the predecessor for funk music and the fashion that followed. For example, Dez Parkes, a legendary compiler, producer, dancer and DJ, who was first present on the reggae scene in the (late) 1960s, is considered to be a trailblazer for later generations. He had quite a varied attire consisting of all in one air pilot suits, sharp classic suits including tweed and zoot suits, flared trousers, fur coats and dark sunglasses, a debonair look. Well-tailored clothing also enhanced the execution of intensively practiced choreography to display on the dancefloor with his dancing crew including another well respected dancer DJ Trevor Shakes upstairs at Ronnie Scotts and Crackers both clubs in Soho, London.

This provided the foundation for both reggae and funk fashion; however, while reggae remained fairly classic, funk fashion experienced multiple evolutions throughout the 70s and 80s.

In the mid-70s funk fashion was inspired by the smart tailoring of reggae styles and 1930s made-to-measure clothing, which were frequently worn by the likes of Sharpe, who remained true to this style. However, the fashion transformed to skin tight jeans that would have to be split at the seams to get them on, which would then be covered up by Chelsea boots or winkle pickers. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, funk fused with jazz to create ‘jazz funk’. This new movement was largely spearheaded by the recently departed DJs, George Power and Paul Trouble Anderson. The fashion became ‘freaky’ as Facey describes, people sported second-hand clothing, ripped t-shirts and jeans, leopard prints and skimpy tops and various coloured dyed hair. Later in the mid-1980s, faded Levi 501 jeans, biker jackets and James Brown’s quiff was the hairstyle of choice.

Karen Herron, a known female dancer on the funk scene wore Levi 501s and trendy tops, or frilly shirts and jodhpurs.

Contrastingly, the venues often did not mirror the debonair and funky fashion. They did however, reflect and correspond to the socio-political context of the time. For example, in the early

Image 5: DJ Fitzroy Facey and Helen in a DJ booth stacked with records.

11

The locations of these parties were often unknown the morning of, but there were instructions to wait at phone boxes at particular times, or information was fed via pirate radio stations like Kiss FM, Radical Radio 94 FM or LWR. Electricity to power the sound systems was collected by linking up cables and wires to electricity pylons nearby. Some places were grand, like the Diorama in London’s wealthy Marylebone, which had an imposing staircase and vast dancefloor. To access many places you either had to walk down into a basement or up the stairs, they were unofficial. Other places were derelict like old warehouses. Despite popular perception that the first raves that took place in abandoned warehouses were during acid-house, the first parties were funk ones. These spaces were large, and although had previously been deserted, they had been dressed up by banners, leaving an ample sized space for a dance floor, additional entertainment like games tables, and lots of people.

Image 6: Barry Sharpe in a bomber jacket in the centre of the Africa Centre in 1986.

days, funk was not played in mainstream commercial clubs, but was played at some gay clubs in London’s West End. This harks back to the unifying nature of funk music where it was able to not only bring people of different racial backgrounds together but was also people of different sexual orientations, a large majority of whom were ostracised by society. Other early venues included ‘Americas’ in West London that was located in a back function room of a pub. It like other places, like the Lacy Lady, were dark, with no windows, nevertheless, the dance floor, which often consisted of wooden floorboards, was at the focus of the design of the spaces. “Americas” even had a stage in the middle of the dance floor where the DJ’s booth was located, in other instances the small booths were generally placed at the foot of dancefloor. Other venues had dinner and dance licenses so food like, chicken in a basket, was provided for people to eat around the carpeted outskirts of the dancefloor like Crackers in London.

As the popularity of the music genre grew, more commercial clubs started to appear like the Electric Ballroom that featured a large dance floor in the centre, the 100 Club that put talcum powder on the floor to help absorb the sweat from people dancing, Titanic, or the Wag Club. You could expect to wait in queues to enter the latter clubs that were trendier in their decor with their murals and ultra-violet feature walls. Nevertheless, many of these clubs, like the Wag Club, had quotas for how many black people would be able to enter and how many black DJs would be able to perform there. As a result new venues were used to house these funk parties.

Nevertheless, in each space the emphasis was on dancing and connecting with yourself, people around you, and your environment, where “We Got the Funk’. In London, the music genre encapsulated the context of the time, its significance to people to feel empowered and to feel proud of who they were. This was mirrored by how it was celebrated in regards to fashion and where it was celebrated, despite the seemingly dark and undecorated spaces that the parties took place in, which complemented the expressive styles and dance moves of people.//

Image 7: The famous Wag Club.

SOURCES - BBC Bitesize . (2019). Experiences of immigrants in the Modern Era 1900 - present. Retrieved May 10, 2019, from Experiences of immigrants in the Modern Era 1900 - present - Facey, F. (2019, May 10). Personal interview.

- Herron, K. (2019, May 7). Personal interview.

- Sharpe, B. (2019, May 11). Personal interview.

GOD BLESS

Image 1: Wall of Respect, Chicago

CHOCOLATE CITY

CC, funk music architect George Clinton affectionately called Washington D.C. in his 1975 Parliament song: there’s a lot of chocolate cities around / we got Newark, we got Gary / somebody told me we got LA / and we’re working on Atlanta / but you’re the capital, CC. Demographically, he was more than right to do so. The African American community in fact made up over 70% of D.C.’s total population by then. But if we understand Chocolate City as an architectural concept, the analogy is not as evident. Slave-built America had been designed by and for a white society after all. Whilst the smoke of the Harlem Renaissance and civil rights movement echoes in CC’s groovy chord progression and edgy lyrics, a question arises: what legacy have these revolutions left in American black neighbourhoods?

It is 1916 when the largest-ever shift in US demographics took off. Up until then, 90% of the African American population lived in the rural South – formerly as slaves, now as free yet heavily exploited sharecroppers. Racism was backed by law here, and severe acts of violence happened on a daily basis. At the same time, cities up North were confronted with a significant labour shortage as many men had left to fight in World War I. These strongly contrasting conditions, complemented with pull factors like promising education and living conditions, convinced six million African Americans to leave their southern life. The so-called Great Migration went on until 1968 and resulted in a strongly urbanised black population.

Although segregation was illegal in the Northern states, racism still existed de facto as they found out upon arrival.

Black people were given the most dangerous and lowest paying jobs, and were collectively pushed into the least desirable areas of the city. Examples of such ghettos are New York’s Harlem, Detroit’s Black Bottom and Chicago’s South Side. Moving up the ladder was hardly possible

either. African Americans were denied mortgages in their own area, and property owners had agreed not to sell them houses in white neighbourhoods. Urban segregation was thus designed and maintained until present day.

Even though their position was far from flawless, at least the African American people now lived unrestrained in a like-minded, black community. The new circumstances provided them with the opportunity to develop in areas they had been denied to for centuries. This exploration for identity and cultural self-determination started in Harlem. Through visual arts, music, literature and theatre, “blackness” was expressed and proudly promoted, leaving the community uplifted. Well-known children of the Harlem Renaissance (1910s to 1930s) were jazz legends Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, writers W.E.B. Du Bois and Alain Locke and artists Jacob Lawrence and Lois Mailou Jones. Although no architects were involved in the artistic movement, a few artists did leave a physical mark on the city. The most prominent figure in this is Aaron Douglas (1899-1979). By means of a number of murals in public buildings across the United States, Douglas depicted significant stages of the turbulent history of the African American people.

One of his most notable works is Aspects of a Negro Life (1934), a collection of murals in the Harlem branch of the New York Public Library. Four vast paintings picture stories shared by all: the story of arrival, of slavery, of emancipation and of cultural rebirth. Besides thematic identification, the community also recognises itself in an aesthetic that draws on traditional African art in form and colour. Douglas’ murals educated and celebrated black identity, beautified and appropriated their buildings, but all of it happened in the city’s interior space.

Where the Harlem Renaissance sought identity from

STEPHAN BASTIAANS

13

within the African American society, the civil rights movement (1950s and 1960s) went out in the open. The community’s focus shifted towards political activism in order to obtain constitutional and legal rights, and instead of a means of cultural self-determination, the arts now functioned as a political instrument: contemporary works showed resistance, liberation and empowerment.

Such a confrontational approach had its influence on the built environment. In 1967 the mural left its interior environment at last to become a form of public art. In Chicago’s South Side, the Wall of Respect was created by artists affiliated with OBAC, the Organisation of Black American Culture. It consists of 14 sections, each filled in by one artist, each with the black heroes of a certain field (like politics, religion, music and sports) on display.

Amongst the portraited were Malcom X, Aretha Franklin and Muhammed Ali. Like Douglas had done, OBAC set up an aesthetic identity composed of vibrant, “coolade” colours and with an emphasis on the figures’ human side. The Wall of Respect was illegally created and therefore as much an act of activism as it was a piece of cultural expression, identification and neighbourhood beautification. Soon it became a political gathering place too. Many similar murals popped up across the country, and although a suspicious fire destroyed this particular mural in 1971, OBAC had provided the African American community with a tool to shape the neighbourhoods they had lived in for so long.

Throughout this time of political discussion, of which a great deal was held on the built environment, architects had remained invisible. The profession was white and most of all very protective, so a revolt from the inside was hardly imaginable. This only changed towards the end of the civil rights movement. In 1967, the American Institute of Architects chose as their new president Robert L. Dunham, who was a lot more civically active than any of his predecessors. In his position Dunham invited legendary activist Whitney Young Jr. (1921-1971) as keynote speaker at the 1968 AIA national convention in Portland, Oregon. Young’s speech was fierce. Part of his criticism was focused on the lack of diversity in the field, and thus the impossibility for minority groups to shape their future, but he mainly condemned the unfair division of wealth in the city: “the Negro has been largely the victim, not of active hate or active concern, but active indifference.” (Young, 1968) The living conditions of African Americans were indeed far worse than those of white people, a matter to which the architectural profession had not responded to “by social and civic contributions, [but] by thunderous silence and complete irrelevance” (Young, 1968). Even architects that did have social sensitivity ended up designing 40-story vertical slums. According to Young, the way black people live was carefully planned, and the architectural profession shares responsibility for that.

a scholarship program were intended to support the position of minority groups within the field. Another resolution called on architects to become actively involved in contemporary societal issues. AIA’s response illustrates its increased understanding of the importance of inclusiveness. In fact, it started a nation-wide movement focused on community participation within the design course, a topic that never lost its relevance.

Since then, AIA has established over 200 Community Design Centres across the United States. These CDC’s have provided neighbourhoods with the opportunity to get involved in planning processes on their own environment, all pro bono. It is the immaterial heritage that the civil rights movement left in architecture.

Some groups, however, were not prepared to wait for change from above. A nation-wide urban renewal program was running parallel with the civil rights movement, and it mainly targeted disadvantaged neighbourhoods and its minority population. But the big apartment blocks that replaced their houses were often inaccessible to the original occupants as they were denied mortgages. “Urban renewal means negro removal,” (Clark, 1963) stated James Baldwin, African American author, expressing his anger with the way the community was treated. In Harlem, the feeling that the discussion was held about them, but not with them, resulted in the foundation of the Architects Renewal Committee of Harlem, in 1964. ARCH can be considered the prototype of a CDC. This collaboration of architects and urban planners, most of them African American but also including socially conscious white professionals, became the voice of Harlem residents in their attempt to both challenge top-down renewal proposals, as well as to convey their own, community-driven ideas. A representative example is the 1964 city’s plan to renew West-Harlem by clearing out nearly 80% of the area, to which the Committee responded with an alternate plan of renovating existing houses. Such an idea may not sound so revolutionary now, but back then it radically opposed the prevailing, modernist planning attitude.

Those words made a deep impact, and the institute was quick to act: new resolutions, revised ethical codes and

Image 2: East Harlem Triangle

14

Yet some wanted ARCH to go further. In 1967, a new director was found in Max Bond Jr. (1935-2009), whose experience as an architect in post-colonial Ghana proved to be empowering Harlem’s own search for autonomy.

Under his leadership the Committee shifted towards a more activist movement, seeking to spatialise black power by transforming the built environment through words and drawings into a new kind of city. At last the cultural self-determination of the beginning of the 20th century had reached out to the field of architecture.

However, ARCH’s revolutionary ambitions had an interestingly conservative approach. Existing blocks, streets, building types and if possible, even buildings themselves had to be preserved, for the reason that the African American community strongly identified with the authentic fabric. This attitude is not surprising when put in perspective: the community had already during the Harlem Renaissance been the most important source of inspiration for black artists. And Harlem was indeed physically terrific as a stage for black civic life (Goldstein, 2016). People enjoyed the informal yet real streets, where they could go out for walks or to meet friends. Such a public, collectivist vitality was in itself the result of poor housing conditions, which forced many activities to take place in the streets. It beautifully shows how the African American community had adapted to the perks and flaws of the environment they were pushed in to.

ARCH’s ideas took shape in the 1968 proposal for the renewal of the East Harlem Triangle, an area of about 18 New York city blocks. Instead of “unslumming” the neighbourhood, the Committee chose to look for potential in the fabric, and to make the community succeed through preservation and elaboration of the distinct street dynamism. They envisioned a mixeduse area, consisting of an eclectic variety of smallscale buildings within the existing grid. The pedestrian infrastructure was to be extended and complemented with plazas and public buildings such as an open-air theatre, a “soul food garden” and a production/exhibition centre for black culture and crafts. They even developed a new housing typology, unique for its communal spaces floating between apartments. Even though not all plans were carried out, the new approach that took the black community as solution rather than the problem proved to be key in Harlem’s revitalisation.

What remains is to answer the question what legacy the described events left in the built environment of today. After OBAC’s Wall of Respect, murals appeared in black neighbourhoods all over the country. They were truly adopted into African American culture as a means of celebrating black pride. Just how far their significance reached is showed by the 2012 extension of Harlem hospital, whose front facade features a

monumental glass reproduction of historic murals. In a similar manner, the 2016 National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington D.C. reflects the collective civic life of black communities. Its porchlike main entrance makes an appealing gathering space, which is continued on the inside. An African American architecture takes shape, but is still only represented by a handful of buildings.

Image 3: Harlem Hospital

However, the immaterial legacy of the civil rights movement may be at least as important. Inclusiveness and diversity became actively supported within the architectural profession, and architects themselves started speaking out on societal matters. Besides that, though it might not have been the only incentive, ARCH’s highly progressive ideas contributed to a change of heart in the common understanding of city planning. The modernist and large scale urban renewal that had been destroying civic life for several decades was replaced with bottom-up and community-centred projects. Parliament’s perception of Chocolate City was accurate: it is in fact all about the people.// SOURCES - Goldstein, B. D. (2016). “The Search for New Forms”: Black Power and the Making of the Postmodern City. The Journal of American History, 103(2), 375-399 - Tucker, P. (1969). Poor Peoples’ Plan. The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, 27(5) - Young, W. M. (1968). Speech presented at AIA Annual Convention in Oregon, Portland. Retrieved from https://www.aia.org/ resources/189666-commemorating-50-years - James Baldwin [Interview by K. Clark]. (1963). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8Abhj17kYU - Abbott Sengstacke, R. (1967). Wall of Respect [Photograph]. Retrieved from http://digitaledition.chicagotribune.com/tribune/article_popover.aspx?guid=67aaf055-04a4-4271-a24c-46fbe30bf6fb - ARCH/CAEHT. (1968). East Harlem Triangle Redevelopment Plan [Photograph]. Retrieved from http://footprintsinnewyork.blogspot. com/2018/01/postcard-thursday-skyrise-for-harlem.html - Warchol, P. (n.d.). Harlem Hospital [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://www.dip-tech.com/printed-glass-projects/united-statesnew-york-ny-harlem-hospital

DORSA GHAEMI

15

The link between

architecture and music

Now that the title of this edition of our architectural magazine is a music genre, let us look for the link between music and architecture. Is there any relationship between Music and Architecture? If we ask this question from very well known Architects

such as Vitruvius, Xenakis and Libeskind. Let us start with Vitruvius: ‘When the German Philosopher Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling looked into the work of Vitruvius reflected that

“Architecture is frozen music”. He proposed that the link between music and architecture has an ancient origin where Vitruvius used harmonic proportions in his architectural design influenced by earlier Greek musical theorists such as Aristoxenus and

Pythagoras. Vitruvius in his ‘ten-volume treatise De Architectura’ explores how columns in temples should be designed by analogy with the various musical genera, how stone theatres can be made to resonate like musical instruments, and how the

cords of a catapult should be tuned to a precise musical pitch. Vitruvius proposes a number of ways in which the musical-architectural theories he describes can be applied in everyday architectural practice. In one example, he suggests that

the different architectural orders determining the types of columns used in architectural design (Doric, Ionic, Corinthian) are analogous to the musical tetrachords. In music theory, a tetrachord (Greek: τετράχορδoν) is a series of four notes separated by

three intervals. Vitruvius proposes a number of ways in which the musical-architectural theories he describes can be applied in everyday architectural practice. Vitruvius enumerates the disciplines in which the architectural practitioner should be trained.

Music theory is for him of central importance: “The architect should know music [musicen] in order to have a grasp of harmonic and mathematical relations [uti canonicam rationem et mathematicam notam habeat], and besides that, to calibrate ballistae,

catapults, and [the small catapults called] scorpiones. In theatres, , likewise, the bronze vessels—the ones Greeks call echea—which are enclosed underneath the seats are placed according to mathematical principle based on their pitch. ‘ [5]

16

let’s move forward to Iannis Xenakis: ‘Iannis Xenakis was a Greek-French composer, music theorist, architect, performance director and engineer. He is considered

an important post-World War II composer whose works helped revolutionize 20th century classical music. Xenakis was born to Greek parents and the ancient Greek culture, be it drama, architecture, philosophy or mathematics, influenced his thought.

Later on he studied civil engineering in Athens and fled to Paris during the Greek civil war. In Paris he studied with composers such as Honegger, Milhaud and Messiaen and Also met the architect Le Corbusier. He was offered a job in Le Corbusier’s studio,

that initially consisted in the computation of concrete elements for the Unite d habitation de Marseille. Later on he became more and more involved in the architectural aspects and he became one of the le Corbusier’s principal project architects.

As Xenakis said: “I discovered on coming into contact with Le Corbusier that the problems of architecture, as he formulated them, were the same as I encountered in music.” And elsewhere he said: “With Le Corbusier I discovered architecture; being an

engineer I could do calculations as well, so I was doing both. This is quite rare in the domain of architecture and music. Everything started coming together and I also asked musical and philosophical questions.“

Xenakis pioneered the use of mathematical models in music such as applications of set theory, stochastic processes and game theory and was also an important influence on the development of electronic and computer music.

He integrated music with architecture, designing music for pre-existing spaces, and designing spaces to be integrated with specific music compositions and performances.’ [4]

Image 1: Marcus Vitruvius Pollio

Image 2: Vitruvius Music Harmony

Image 3: Iannis Xenakis

17 17

Lets look into Daniel Liebeskinds architecture. ‘Music as Inspiration: Daniel Libeskind’s analytical work operates in the field of architecture’s second invariant, defined by Bruno Zevi as the study of asymmetry and dissonance that is realized in the conscious

application of a design method which results, on one hand, from the illogical chains produced by liberal associations of the mind and, on the other, from the logic of the deformation as a singular case of the variation of the composed theme, of the topological

order, of the deconstruction. A direct consequences of this is what is defined as a rarefaction or dissolution of the architectural sign, which in reality leads to an abstraction that is often extreme, but also to a closure that architecture shares with all other

forms of artistic expression. The consequential and inevitable reduction to silence in “compositional writing” has been compared to other, more recent musical forms where the paroxysmal crescendo of the sound are contrasted by sudden long

pauses, both metaphoric expressions of the contemporary condition. . These concepts may be expressed in a slightly cryptic way in a collection of drawings that Libeskind entitled “Chamber Works”,1 in the same cryptic way that some contemporary

scores adopt a system of notes without the staff. The title “Chamber Works” in itself evokes a “chamber architecture” in the same way in which we might speak of “chamber music”, a complete composition in all its parts, realized through the use of a reduced

number of elements, only those absolutely necessary to give body to the logic of the written text. The two series of these drawings, the horizontal and the vertical, form a continuum of graphic inventions that Kurt W. Foster [Libeskind 1991] defines

as “spatial music”, a kaleidoscopic collection of lines and symbols that represent the same double axial structure of sounds; melody and/or chords, horizontal and/or vertical structure, regulated by the common principle of liberal variation (fig. 1).

This methodological process, experimented in the pictorial form in “Chamber Works”, is also applied in the project of the extension of the Berlin Museum with the section dedicated to the Jewish Museum Department [Libeskind 1992], where even

in a constructed architecture the permanence of a design idea derived from the chance vicinity of apparently heterogeneous graphical points, is realized.’ [2]In the House of 40 knots, the façade was made out of firebricks. In order to work the façade dry

Image 4: The Philips Pavilion by Xenakis

Image 5: Daniel Liebeskind

Image 6: Jewish Museum Berlin by Liebeskind

18

When we look into the works of great architects who had music as a source of inspiration source Music and analyze them we come to conclusion that music and architecture have many things in common such as rhythm, texture, harmony, proportion, and dynamics.of great architects who had music as a source of inspiration source Music and analyze them we come to conclusion that and dynamics. ‘Rhythm and architecture are similar in many ways. Rhythm has much to do with pattern. Patterns can be found in both music, through beat and repetition, but can also be found in shapes or structural elements in architecture. [3]

Photo by Sara Texture is also a key concept of architecture and music. Texture in music has to do with the layering of different sounds and rhythms by different instruments. Materials in architecture can also display texture. The combination of different materials can

show a wide variety of different textures and how they can interact with each other. Architecture and music also have harmony in common. Harmony can be from balance in a musical work or it can also be through a balance of a part to a whole.

Architecture can show harmony through the successful use of different materials or designs in a space together to become one unified space. Proportion in my opinion relates to harmony in many ways. The right proportions in music in intervals and

notes can help create a harmony throughout the work. Proportions with materials in architecture also create a balance. The correct balance can harmonize an architectural setting. Architecture and music also share dynamics. Dynamics deals with quality.

Music and architecture need certain qualities and standards to make the works worthwhile and meaningful. Music and architecture can be paralleled in many more ways than one. Rhythm, texture, harmony, proportion, and dynamics all are tied into the arts in

into the arts in some way; whether it is through buildings, or songs. Either way, the overall qualities shared between music and architecture can help inspire each other. The more qualities in common, the more influence music and architecture can have on each other through emotions and the overall meanings of works.’[1] //

SOURCES Brink, D. (2014, 10 mei). The Relationship Between Music and Architecture – Architecture and Design. Geraadpleegd op 28 oktober 2019, van https://blogs.lt.vt.edu/danabrink/2014/05/10/the-relationshipbetween-music-and-architecture/

Walden, D. K. S. (2014). Frozen Music: Music and Architecture in Vitruvius’ De Architectura. Greek and Roman Musical Studies 2.From Pythagoras to Fractals. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

1

5

Capanna, A. (2011). Music and Architecture: A Cross between Inspiration and Method. NEXUS NETWORK JOURNAL.

Sterken, S. (2007). Music as an Art of the Space: Interactions between Music and Architecture in the work of Iannis Xenakis. Ames, USA: Culicidae Architectural Press.

2

Fauvel, J., Flood, R., & J. Wilson, R. J. (2006). Music and Mathematics: From Pythagoras to Fractals. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

3

Sterken, S. (2007). Music as an Art of the Space: Interactions between Music and Architecture in the work of Iannis Xenakis. Ames, USA: Culicidae Architectural Press.

4

TOV FRENCKEN

19

Ritmiek in de Maat Eastern Blocks, foto van Zupagrafika

Al sinds dag & dauw brengt ritmiek ons vreugde en plezier.

Van de vroege vormen van muziek tot in het huidige “mobiele tijdperk” waar een fijne deun en dans nooit verder dan een paar tikken van ons dagelijks leven verwijderd is. Hoewel dit voor velen een meest voordehand liggende uiting van ritmiek is mengt het zich ook in verscheidene andere vormen in ons dagelijks leven.

Naast ritme als auditieve prikkel komt openbaart het zich natuurlijk ook in de visueel waarneembare wereld. Het kan uiteenlopende elementen doen versmelten of hele zalen doen splitsen. Volgens velen onmiskenbaar voor de ruimtelijke vormgeving en andere esthetische uitvindingen.

In dit artikel zullen we ontleden wat ritme is en hoe het zich manifesteert in allerlei vormen en schalen in de gebouwde omgeving. Ook zal er gekeken worden naar enkele tegengestelde uitingen van ritmiek.

Rit·me (het; o; meervoud: ritmen, ritmes) 1 regelmatig afwisselende beweging (m.n. in de poëzie en de muziek); door klemtoon, intonatie en tempo bepaalde golving 2 regelmatige herhaling volgens een bep. patroon: in zijn ritme komen Definitie “ritme” volgens van Dale woordenboek

Definitie Ritme Net als binnen de muziek ontstaat ritme in de architectuur door de repetitie van verschillende elementen binnen een geheel. Het doel van het herhaaldelijk toepassen van deze elementen is om een geordend patroon te laten ontstaan dat esthetisch aantrekkelijk kan worden beschouwd. Ritme is een antwoord op de drift van het menselijk oog om de waargenomen elementen te ordenen in groepen van gelijken, zo stelt Pierre von Meis in zijn boek Element of Architecture: From form to place (1986). De Zwitserse architectuur theoreticus stelt dat het menselijk oog zoekt naar algemene overeenkomsten en deze boven de aanwezige verschillen verkiest. Ritme gaat over het dwalen van het oog over een geheel nog voordat het een focus kan realiseren.

Niet alleen de repetitie is een bepalende factor voor het vormen van een ritme in de architectuur. Net als in muziekstukken is speelt het tempo een grote rol in de soort compositie die ontstaat. Tempo in een muziekstuk is gebonden aan de opeenvolging van tonen met de tijd waar het in de “statische” architectuur juist allemaal gaat om de intervallen en te factor tijd niet meespeelt. Het spel tussen de elementen en de manier waarop deze zich tot elkaar verhouden.

Vormen van ritmiek In het artikel van Mads Soegaard wordt gesteld dat er grofweg genomen vijf verschillende vormen van ritmiek geïnterpreteerd kunnen worden binnen de architectuur.

Naast een beschrijving geeft hij in zijn artikel ook inzicht wat voor invloed deze verschillende ritmes op een compositie kunnen hebben.

Facade van Unité d’habitation, Le Corbusier

Willekeurig ritme – zoals de term al doet vermoeden is het willekeurige ritme een onregelmatige herhaling van elementen. Hier kan binnen hetzelfde patroon zowel dichte clustering als grote ruimtes ontstaan.

Denk bijvoorbeeld aan vallende sterren, dwarrelende sneeuwvlokken of de kiezels op een strand. Een willekeurig ritme kan een ontwerp onvoorspelbaar, speels en verassend maken. Toch moet hier wel de kanttekening bij worden gemaakt dat dit ritme een compositie ook volledig kan breken en chaotisch of onoverzichtelijk kan doen lijken. Zodra we dit ritme wat Soegaard noemt gaan toeschrijven aan de gebouwde

20

Foto uit het boek Pastoral: Moscow Suburbs door Alexander Gronsky

omgeving kan dit op zijn beurt weer leuke vraagstukken creëren. Kunnen we bijvoorbeeld stellen dat alles ritmiek kent zodra we willekeur als ritme rekenen?

Regelmatig ritme – het regelmatige ritme ligt waarschijnlijk aan het andere uiterste van het spectrum. Net zoals het tikken van een klok creëert een regelmatig ritme een constante leidraad door een verhaal of compositie.

Het is een effectieve manier om een overzichtelijk en duidelijk ontwerp te maken en kan in de pure vorm een gevoel van respect of ontzag afdwingen. Soegaard vermeld hier echter wel bij dat de doorsnee mens neigt om afwijking te waarderen en dat een ritme van zuivere regelmaat ook snel monotoon kan worden gevonden.

Wisselend ritme – Afwisseling met regelmaat doet een complexer ritme ontstaan dan een van pure regelmaat.

Door eigenschappen van elementen of hele elementen te variëren kan er een meer prikkelend ritme ontworpen worden. Denk bijvoorbeeld aan poëzie waar zich binnen een strofe een bepaalde structuur zoals 1-2-1-2 kan manifesteren. Door eigenschappen als kleur te variëren kan een patroon een wisselend ritme aannemen.

Soegaard haalt hier binnen zijn artikel de salamanderen vissen patronen aan die M.C. Escher vorige eeuw bedacht. In deze werken worden de beesten zowel wisselend in richting als kleur afgebeeld.

Vloeiend ritme – Aansluitende of terugkerende golven, bochten en bogen vormen de vierde genoemde categorie in ritme. Mads Soegaard stelt dat ontwerpers van deze vorm van ritmiek veelal de glooiingen en verstrengelingen van de natuur nabootsen door naar bijvoorbeeld duinlandschappen en golven te kijken. Dit kan zich uitten in een organisch patroon dat natuurlijk aanvoelt.

Opbouwend ritme – door karakter-eigenschappen van de componenten op een rationele manier te laten variëren kan er een opbouwend ritme worden gevormd. Een vereiste voor dit ritme is echter wel dat de verschillen te “rangschikken” zijn. Hieruit verkrijgen de verschillende elementen hun plaats binnen de compositie. Deze vorm van ritme kan een sterke hiërarchie binnen een compositie doen ontstaan.

Relaties in repetitie In haar onderzoek uit 2013, Aesthetic Responses to Repetition in Unfimiliar Music, stelt Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis dat mensen herhaling nodig hebben om muziek daadwerkelijk als muziek te kunnen herkennen.

Ze beschrijft een onderbewuste voorkeur voor repetitie in muziekstukken. Deze repetitie zou een muziekstuk makkelijker en aangenamer te beluisteren maken.

21

Institute for Biological Studies, la Jolla, California 6

Spiral Apartment House door Ramat Gan

Colin Morris schreef het programma SongSim dat repetitie in popnummers kan analyseren (erg leuk om zelf te checken trouwens). Hij liet het programma analyses maken van hedendaagse nummers evenals hitjes uit de jaren 60 en poezie. Hieruit bleek dat sinds de jaren 60 de repetitie in popmuziek significant is toegenomen. Een interessante ontdekking die je kan doen afvragen hoe de muziek zich zal ontwikkelen in de aankomende decennia. Ook roept dit bij mij persoonlijk vragen op over of deze trend zich ook uit binnen de architectuur. Is dit de aanloop naar een wereld waar alles nog enkel volgens ritme gaat? Komt deze onlosmakelijk voort uit het opschalen van gebouwen en de toepassing van massaproductie? Ook rest ons vervolgens de vraag of het wel een kwade zaak is als de wereld om ons heen consequent ritmisch wordt. Zit er schoonheid in deze overzichtelijkheid of ontstaat er een wereld zonder sensatie als gevolg van gebrek aan variatie?

Waar veel mensen de klassieke ongeïntegreerde galerijflats in Delft-Zuid spuuglelijk vinden kan er toch ook een zekere schoonheid in worden teruggevonden.

Wie één oog sluit en zijn vinger van boven naar beneden over de omlopen laat afglijden kan bijna het raspende geluid van de Güiro horen. Ritmische reuzen waarin repetitie niet alleen hun eigen uiterlijk maar ook die van hun omgeving kenmerkt. //

Favelas in Rio de Janeiro, Brazilië

SOURCES - Caswell, E. (2017, 3 oktober). Why we really really really like repetition in music [YouTube]. Geraadpleegd op 28 oktober 2019, van https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzzmqUoQobc - Chan, C.-S. (2012). Phenomenology of rhythm in design. Frontiers of Architectural Research, 1(3), 253–258. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. foar.2012.06.003 - Soegaard, M. (2018). Repetition, Pattern, and Rhythm. Interaction Design Foundation. Geraadpleegd van https://www.interactiondesign.org/literature/article/repetition-pattern-and-rhythm - Wolfe, R. (2014). Repetition-Compulsion: World-Historical Rhythms in Architecture. e-flux, 54. Geraadpleegd van https://www.e-flux. com/journal/54/59858/repetition-compulsion-world-historicalrhythms-in-architecture/

LARA WALTER

22

. l u o S

Look! t h e r e’s e n d l e s s s k y a b o v e y o u , e n d l e s s s k y a h e a d endless floors, and endless souls, endless rooms and beds endless sleeping children, with dreams within their heads ‘bout sunlight they have never seen, nor rain so cold and wet soul upon soul

t o d r e a m a b o u t w h a t ’s u p t h e r e , t o d r e a m a b o u t w h a t s m o r e whilst encouraging your shoeless feet, even though they ’re sore to climb up infinite steps, to see with your own eyes the freshness of the air and the blueness of the skies soul upon soul upon soul walk up these endless stairs, pass endles neighbours’ doors count, 113, 14, 15, 116 floors cling on to the banister, just in case you fall w h e n y o u s e e t h e s o i l d i s a p p e a r, a n d s o t h e c i t y ’s s o u l upon soul upon soul upon soul Strange how such a place itself seems to have no soul at all soul upon soul upon soul upon soul upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon upon u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o up po on n u up po on n u n u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o up po on n u up po on n u n u up po on n u p o n u p o up po on n u n u p o n u up po on n u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o up po on n u n u p o n u p o n llll u p o n u p o n u p o n u p o n ll u p o n u p o n u p o n up pon nlll u upo o nll

soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul soul ss o u ll u ss o o u ll o u ss o ou u lll sss o u ou u ll ss o ou ll u ss o o u ll o u ss o ou u lll sss o u ou u ll ss o o ou u lll ss o u o ou u lll sss o u u ll sss o o ou u ll u ss o o u u lll ss o o ou u ll ss o u o u ll o u ssss o u lll o u o u o u ssss o u ll o u o u ou u lll sss o o u ll

SOURCES 1

-Retrieved from: https://plainmagazine.com/ wp-content/uploads/2017/04/content_plainmagazine-michael-wolf-photography-09.jpg Edited in photoshop, grayscale -Retrieved from: http://photomichaelwolf.com/ wp-content/uploads/a39_48x72.jpg Edited in photoshop, grayscale For more information about Michael Wolfs’ exposition “archtecture of density ” c h e c k o u r “g e t i n s p i r e d ” o n t h e l a s t p a g e o f this journal //

J

MAUD MEIJER

A z z 2:18 A.M . I look at the empty coffee cups that have started to pile up behind my laptop screen. I am starting to feel a bit like a zombie, after having stared at a screen all day working on a plan that doesn’t seem to have changed a lot in the last couple of hours. The deadline is set for tomorrow, so it seems I still have a long night of work ahead of me. I feel sleepy, but too stressed to go to bed. The design won’t make itself! I decide it is time for a small break..

More coffee? No, I am in need of something more calming. I look at the LP player in the corner of my room. Yes, when nothing else works maybe it is time for some jazz...

As the soothing sound of Chet Baker’s trumpet slowly fills the room, I doze off a little bit...

Architecture... Jazz... It does seem there are some connections to be made between the two.

Or am I getting to philosophical? Possibly.

Jazz is a music genre where the music is ever changing and never the same, but it’s always possible to dissect it to a basic composition of chords. As long as basic agreements between the musicians are made, the music itself comes along as the musicians improvise to create a unique piece.

Just like a jazz musician, an architect has to come up with a design that fits the client’s requirements, working with a basic set of tools and materials. Just like jazz music, the design is moulded into shape by the architect finding out what works and what doesn’t. What aspect or material creates the atmosphere and the nuance the architect was looking for, to finally come to a carefully created composition.. with a rhythm and maybe some unexpected tones?

Hm.. Yes it is getting late. Time to get back to my design. Yes, it does look different to me now! It is not just a piece of paper filled with lines and numbers, no, it is a carefully made composition of space and rhythm. It might still be a bit out of tune and it certainly needs a lot of adjusting, but with some more improvisation and experimentation it should turn into something interesting!

Anyways: here are some Jazzy recommendations for when you are experiencing deadline stress and are in need of some relaxing tunes to help you through the night!// Chet Baker; Chet Baker Sings Dave Brubeck quartet; On time Coleman Hawkins; At Ease with Coleman Hawkins Stan Getz; The Bossa Nova album Nina Simone; Little Girl Blue Oscar Pettiford; Day After Day Ella Fitzgerald; Lullabies of Birdland Shai Maestro; the Dream Thief

23

The ultimate software from sketch to BIM

Sketch, draw, and model in a fully integrated BIM workflow

SANTUÁRIO SÃO JOÃO PAULO II COURTESY OF CAIQUE NIEMEYER ARQUITETURA E DESIGN © VILLANOVAPAPA ICÔNE - HAMONIC+MASSON & ASSOCIÉS

s i Th g n i l i bu . . . s l l e m s y k n u f Hospitals. Old age homes. Green Houses. Public swimming pools. Bakeries. Your childhood attic. Your Grandparent’s home. Your Mother’s clothes cupboard. A Christmas tree near the fire place. Grass after it’s been mowed.

With that said, please, take a moment, and smell the magazine you’re reading. Close your eyes, and take a deep inhale of the room you’re standing in. Go into the attic passage between Oost and West in Bouwkunde and pay attention! Smell it! Doesn’t it smell weird? Different at least? Distinctive? The same counts for the Bouwkunde library, as you step into this space not only is there an audio-visual change: the silence and the wonderful rhythm of the book clad walls; but also, a scent that is loaded with all kinds of memories and associations.

“But a whiff of perfume, or even the slightest odor, can create an entire environment in the world of the imagination.” (Bachelard, Jolas, Danielewski, & Kearney, 2014, pp 191)

One of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had was when I was walking through Amsterdam and suddenly when encountering the scent of the still brewing beer from a nearby brewery, I was transported to the age of about 8 playing tag with my best friends: Jaimen, Alex, Jordan and a few other forgotten names. After school in the playground waiting to be picked up by our mothers; the summer sun is baking the pitch-black tar, Table Mountain glistens in the distance and, oddly enough, this intoxicating sweet malty, wheaty, yeasty aroma is making the air thick like syrup. That aroma was coming from the beer brewery in Claremont close to my school, and still to this day if I encounter that smell, I get taken back to my carefree days of cavorting about jungle gyms with my buddies and my primary school crush on Jessica.

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

By mapping the world around you more attentively in terms of senses other than that what you merely see you can create a more authentic depiction of your subjective reality in your designs.

Architecture is first and foremost an activity of experience design. Perhaps at first read this all seems ridiculous, though that’s partially why I’m writing it. As students of one of the best Architectural faculties in the world, we have a unique opportunity and with that, a kind of responsibility to push the boundaries of what’s possible for the world of Architecture.

Especially since we are still students, every building you design can be as crazy as you want, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a total fuck up because, well, it isn’t going to be built.

In that regard – why not make a crematorium that smells faintly of lavender, to invite the grieving into a more welcoming space that makes them feel at ease. It seems almost cruel to not incorporate scent and in so doing ignore the emotions of the building’s users. If you are going to use diffuse light and neutral warm colours to create an unthreatening visual landscape, why would you not also do your best to create an unthreatening olfactory landscape for the visitors?

These are all spaces, but more importantly they are spaces that contain a distinctive scent that while you might not be able to define with words, will immediately recognise should you ever come into contact with it ever again.

Funnily enough these smells also seem to be relatively universal. This seems to suggest you could in fact design around this idea of smell. Weird as it may sound it would in fact be the best way to trigger an emotional response in a building’s user. Unlike tactile, visual, and audio senses, smell bypasses the normal processing units of the brain. Instead, information gets sent directly from your nose to your amygdala and hippocampus respectively responsible for handling emotion, and memory (Hamer, 2018). As such, spaces could be curated to facilitate the emotional needs of your olfactory-having visitors.

The challenge is therefore, much like a poet would with words, to use walls and floors to construct spaces that make your audience aware of something they would have otherwise ignored as a mundanity. The only way to do this is to analyse the world more carefully, and more weirdly.

Architecture is a form of art, and similar to all other forms of art that attempt to submerse you in their world, think of film for example, Architecture has the same ability to submerse the audience in a kind of reality that you wish to give to them. Contrasting to other artforms, Architecture is not contained within the context of a film theatre, or a museum gallery. Buildings quickly become a fabric of the day to day, within the context of the world at large. As Viktor Shklovsky so brilliantly said in his essay, Art as Technique: “Art exists that one may recover the sensation of life; it exists to make one feel things, to make the stone stony.” (Lemon & Reis, 1965)

- Lemon, L. T., & Reis, M. J. (1965). Russian Formalist Criticism: Four Essays. Lincoln, United States of America: University of Nebraska Press.

- Hamer, A. (2018, January 31). Here’s Why Smells Trigger Such Vivid Memories. Retrieved May 16, 2019, from https://curiosity.com/topics/ heres-why-smells-trigger-such-vivid-memories-curiosity/

- Bachelard, G., Jolas, M., Danielewski, M. Z., & Kearney, R. (2014). The Poetics of Space. New York, USA: Penguin Publishing Group.

SOURCES

What you analyse, be it in terms of smell, touch, sound etc. can then be reimplemented into your building to make it a more authentic representation of how you have perceived reality outside of that building. Choose to treat Architecture as an art, impart a sensation of life into your walls, and make people aware of that which they’ve forgotten, because if you don’t the people in your buildings will feel nothing.//

d vertically instead te in pr en be s ha e cl ti xt of this ar For this reason, the te rotate the magazine, to ed rc fo e ar u yo , ing so deed of horizontally. By do e fact that you are in th fly ie br e dg le ow ackn ds of this article, whereby you come to or w e th e ad m ve ha e this way, w reading something. In wordy. k, to make you an bl ft le e ar e cl ti ar pages of this age to be on every Similarly, one of the im or xt te ct pe ex u alise that yo ur stop and think, and re me more aware of yo co be u yo ay w is th not. In page, instead, there is ake an uneasy feeling, m ht ig m It n. ai ag e magazin y. interaction with the ysical pages more page ph e th e ad m ve e’ w but in this way

MAUD MEIJER

28

RITME IN GERAMDE AARDE

De kunst van het

Als penseelstreken vormen langgerekte stroken de licht golvende lagen van de muur: wanneer de mal wordt weggehaald, komt langzaam het eindresultaat tevoorschijn.

Het lijkt haast een schilderij: de lagen onderscheiden zich van elkaar door een subtiel kleurverschil en vormen een compositie wat veel weg heeft van een dwarsdoorsnede van de aarde. Niet zo vreemd, want het is ook aarde!

De eeuwenoude bouwtechniek van het bouwen met aarde is haast net zo oud als de geschiedenis van de architectuur zelf. De vroegste overblijfselen van deze aarden bouwwerken dateren uit 5000 voor Christus.

Lang was het een veel gebruikte bouwtechniek, maar nadat moderne bouwmaterialen goedkoper werden na de tweede wereldoorlog, nam de populariteit van dit bouwmateriaal sterk (afbeelding 1). Nu mensen steeds meer bewust worden van de gevolgen van klimaatverandering, en het bouwen met duurzame materialen steeds belangrijker aan het worden is, is ‘ Geramde aarde’ een comeback aan het maken.

Maar hoe werkt het eigenlijk? De naam zegt het al: geramde aarde is letterlijk aarde dat onder hoge druk wordt ‘samen-geramd’ tot een vaste vorm. Geramde aarde bestaat in principe uit een mix van vochtige aarde (ook zand, grint en klei) waar soms een stabilisator aan is toegevoegd. Het is mogelijk om losse bouwstenen van gestampte aarde te maken, maar vaak wordt er door middel van een houten mal een massieve muur gevormd. In deze mal wordt de aarde als het ware laag voor laag platgedrukt tot de helft van zijn oorspronkelijke grootte. Wanneer de muur wordt ontmanteld, worden de samengeperste lagen aarde zichtbaar. De muur wordt steeds sterker naarmate die is gebouwd, doordat hij in de loop van tijd steeds verder uithard.

Ondanks dat het geen standaard bouwmateriaal is, heeft het gebruik van geramde aarde veel voordelen.

Aarde is eigenlijk een onuitputtelijke en goedkope bron, en kan vaak lokaal worden gewonnen. Dit scheelt in transportkosten en CO2- uitstoot. Ondanks dat het een erg arbeidsintensieve bouwmethode is, is het werken ermee niet erg moeilijk en kunnen ook onervaren bouwers zo een constructie maken. Hiernaast heeft geramde aarde een hoge thermische massa, waardoor het warmte op kan nemen gedurende de dag, en dit weer los kan laten in de nacht. Een soort natuurlijke airconditioning!

Een mooi voorbeeld van een gebouw waarbij veel gebruik is gemaakt van geramde aarde, is het SanBaoPeng Art Museum, ontworpen door architectenstudio DL Atelier.

Het museum staat in Sanbao, een buitenwijk van de stad Jingdezhen. De stad Jingdezhen staat bekend om zijn porselein productie. Om een verbinding tussen het museum en de kunstenaars te laten zien, zijn de muren van het museum gemaakt aarde uit de omgeving. De klei in Sanbao heeft een unieke en roodachtige kleur.

Met het gebruik van dit materiaal voor de muren hoopt de architect een poëtische sfeer te creëren. ‘’ Visitor’s flow is usually an important factor in designing museums, but in this design, I care more about creating ambiguous relationship between visitors and the space.

Walls, the most important part at shaping exhibition space and atmosphere, is made of rammed earth, I wish its texture could offer a poetic feeling. ‘’ - Liu Yang (Griffiths, A) Ondanks dat de meeste voorbeelden van gebouwen met geramde aarde in warmere landen dan Nederland te vinden zijn, is het toch mogelijk om er een tegen te komen. Een voorbeeld hiervan ligt net over de grens: in het grindwinningsgebied Negenoord. Architecten van Gouden Liniaal architecten bouwden hier een observatietoren van geramde aarde. De dikke muren (80cm!) bestaan uit een mix van aarde, leem en grind wat uit de Maasvallei gewonnen werd (Uitkijktoren in stampleem, Negenoord).

Het is ook mogelijk om bovenop de toren te klimmen, wat een mooi uitzicht over het natuurgebied levert!

Geramde aarde is een duurzaam bouwmateriaal dat allerlei voordelen heeft. Doordat het een arbeidsintensief is in het gebruik, wordt het materiaal in de praktijk niet zoveel meer gebruikt. Met het oog op klimaatverandering en bevolkingsgroei, kan het materiaal echter veel mogelijkheden bieden! //

29

bouwen met modder

Afbeelding 1: Observatietoren Negenoord – Gouden Liniaal Architecten (Filip Dujardin, 2016)

Afbeelding 2 : San Baopeng Art Museum (Sun Haiting)

SOURCES Afbeelding 1 - (http://www.degoudenliniaal.be/index.php?/albums/uitkijktoren-negenoord-dilsen-stokkem/ Afbeelding 2 - https://www.dezeen.com/2017/11/27/sanbaopengart-museum-dl-atelier-rammed-earth-walls-reflecting-pools-architecture-china-jingdezhen/ - Technique for constructing foundations, floors, and walls using natural raw materials. (2019, 25 september). Geraadpleegd op 26 september 2019, van https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rammed_earth - Griffiths, A. (2017, 24 november). DL Atelier builds museum with rammed-earth walls near China’s “porcelain capital”. Geraadpleegd op 26 september 2019, van https://www.dezeen.com/2017/11/27/ sanbaopeng-art-museum-dl-atelier-rammed-earth-walls-reflecting-pools-architecture-china-jingdezhen/ - Uitkijktoren in stampleem, Negenoord. (z.d.). Geraadpleegd op 26 september 2019, van http://www.degoudenliniaal.be/index.php?/ albums/uitkijktoren-negenoord-dilsen-stokkem/

30

MEES VAN RHIJN

31

A Hindu festival celebrated in February or March in honour of Krishna, an important deity in Hinduism. The “festival of colours� signifies the arrival of spring, and with that the blossoming of love, the triumph of good over evil and the beginning of a good harvest.

People laugh, dance and play.

Old issues are forgotten and forgiven and broken relationships are repaired. Coloured powders are thrown at each other in order to celebrate.

These photos were all taken by Mees van Rhijn in the Banke Bihari Temple in Mathura, famous for its Holi celebrations because in Hinduism, Mathura is believed to be the birthplace of Krishna. It is therefore one of he Sapta Puri, the seven holy cities. //

32

“I remember the cry of the watermelon man making his rounds through the back streets and alleys of Chicago.

The wheels of his wagon beat out the rhythm on the cobblestones” (Santoro, 2004). Years later the vivid childhood memory of Herbie Hancock was brought to life in what would arguably be his biggest commercial success, named after the man who provided the neighbourhood with his vitamin-rich thirst quenching treats. In ‘Watermelon Man’ the vendor is portrayed in an animated way through Freddie Hubbard’s trumpet, accompanied by the rumbling wheels that is Billy Higgins rhythm section. Due to the immense popularity of the track it grew to be a jazz-standard in every players repertoire, where the structure of the composition leaves room for ones own creativity to shed a new light over one of jazz most recognizable songs, altering the meaning and perception to illuminate new ideas.

The perception of these concepts is not depending on what it exactly is we receive, but rather on our prejudice inaudibly dictating what we make it to be. The ambiguity of art has been the strength behind many great works of art in the past and present, provoking the beholders sense of reality, often leaving them in awe. One of the most highly acknowledged, boundary breaking and ambitious artists in today’s field of art playing with these ideas is undoubtedly James Turrell. Born into a quaker family to an aeronautical engineer and a medical doctor, Turrell recalls an early childhood memory where he took the black curtains in his living room and – presumably to his mothers great joy – pinched reasonably large holes in the texture, creating a complete map of the sky using the light that pierced through the perforations. Turrell created a way of seeing the stars that were present, but which you couldn’t normally see. Till this date, instead of using tangible matter to convey his ideas, Turrell’s medium is pure light. As the artist himself notes, ‘’My work has no object, no image and no focus. With no object, no image and no focus, what are you looking at? You’re looking at you looking. What is important to me is to create an experience of wordless thought’’ (James Turrell, 2019).

That is exactly the strength behind a greater part of the pieces crafted by Turrell: forging something out of an immaterial medium in a way where it impacts space as if it becomes an entity on its own, which presence can be experienced in the way an autonomous object would.

One of his earlier works Prado (White, 1967) shows how one carefully placed – at that time state of the art – projector can obscure and divide space by where light is shed and where isn’t, and therefore create an architectural space. Another work, Afrum I (White, 1967), shows Turrell’s ability of forging what appears to be a gleaming, solid cube out of light, creating the illusion of mass emerging from the wall. When approached, the beholder comes to

realise it’s only been light projected on a surface they’ve been looking at all along, proving we’re part of creating which we think we receive.

Turrell’s mindbending installations have coloured museums all over the world. While his personal repertoire never fails to amaze, one of the true crowdpleasers remains his late cover of Frank Lloyd Wrights ‘Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum’. Crafting melodies out of his rich pallet of colours, the artist succeeds to turn the museum’s characteristic rotunda into the largest temporary installation both the artist as the museum has ever ventured. Aten Reign illuminates the tiers of the structure, crafting an artificial skyspace consuming the volume and engulfing the observer. Next to this magnificent piece, Turrell wished to make some permanent alterations to Frank Lloyd Wrights composition by cutting pieces out of the roof to create one of his notorious skyspaces using natural light.

Turrell obviously didn’t get the green light, responding in a sarcastic though thought-provoking manner: ‘’If you go to the Pantheon: that’s a hole, and it rains right through it.

That structure has been there for 2000 years, so what’s our problem? This is an art museum, I don’t care who made it, it’s made for art. Were going to put art in it. Maybe architects (...) have this great love for their cathedrals that they’ve made that are posing as art museums, but the fact is that this is for art, so we’re going to do what we need to do here’’ (Turrell, 2014).As just noted, some of his most impressive pieces involve natural light, including his most ambitious project.

CASPER HIJLKEMA

33

Image 2 : Afrum, James Turrel, Guggenheim

JAMES TURRELL: REINTERPRATING STANDARDS

SOURCES Image 1: Prado. (White, 1967). From ‘’Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation’’, by D. Heald, 2013(http://web.guggenheim.org/exhibitions/turrell/).

Image 1 : Prado, James Turrel, Guggenheim

Image 2: Afrum. (White, 1967). From ‘’Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation’’, by D. Heald, 2013 (http://web.guggenheim.org/exhibitions/turrell/).

Through changing the circumstances and therefore context of vision, Turrell refutes the common prejudice of depiction, taking the nature of perception into nature. After having spent the night in a cinder cone situated in the desert of Arizona in the early 1970’s, the artist has set his sight on acquiring the dormant volcano to create what is currently considered his lifework. Funded through partnerships and private donations the cinder cone has been under construction since the initial purchase of the area in 1977. The Roden Crater will set the stage for the mortal to witness celestial events in ideal conditions through 21 viewing spaces and 6 tunnels for the beholder to become its own experience. As with his earlier works, Turrell seeks to link the objective with the subjective, making the observer conscious of the possibility to manipulate that what’s considered a visual truth. As the site is still under construction the Roden Crater is currently closed for the public.

Turrell shows us with his colorful and carefully composed melodies how perception forms a subjective truth, crafted through that which we receive and our own frame of reference. As for us future architects, one might take inspiration out of the way how light can define, differentiate and inhabit space in a way where it isn’t something that reveals, but is a revelation itself.//

MEES VAN RHIJN

34 36

Image 1: Kubuswoningen

MEES VAN RHIJN

7

Funk Follows Function

The cube houses in Rotterdam, designed

by Dutch architect Piet Blom (1934-1999) in 1982, seem to be the epitome of a funky building; the cubes out of which the complex exists, have been turned on their sides with corners pointing to the sky, seemingly avoiding gravity.

In reality, the cubes aren’t as funky as they might seem at first glance, though unconventional they are for sure. After World War II and subsequent damage it brought upon the city of Rotterdam, de Blaak was filled with debris of the bombardments. Blom was commissioned for the creation of 300 houses, which he considered a task too big for just one architect. Therefore, he would design the area in such way that no one would recognize it was the work of one designer (Hengeveld & Vader, 2010). Blom was part of the structuralist movement that arose in Europe in the 1960s as a reaction against the functionalist urban design typical of modernism (Jones, 2014).

Image 2: Top view illustration

36

The origin of structuralism lies with Team X, that came forth out of the Congrès International d’Architecture Moderne (CIAM). This was a platform that enabled discussion on the topics of architecture and criticism. Team X criticized the way modernists rebuilt cities after the Second World War for its purely functional approach and longed for human interaction and being able to identify yourself with your surroundings. One of the founding members was Aldo van Eyck (1918-1999) (Curtis, 1996).

In his philosophy of ‘the aesthetics of number’, he interpreted buildings as a system of cells. The cell was the basis of which the shape could be repeated to create a larger building or village.

These repetitions were often based on cubes that could be infinitely added and changed. Each addition was seen as complete and whole on its own, as part of a principle which Van Eyck called labyrinthine clarity.

This meant that the diversity and complexity would increase by adding cells, but at the same time, so would the unity and simplicity (Jones, 2014).

A student of Van Eyck was Herman Herzberger (1932), who became another large influence for the Dutch structuralist movement. In his mind, the architects’ task is not to come up with a complete solution, but to provide a structure to be filled in by its users.

The structuralists saw architecture as a geometrical structure consisting of small units. By repeating them, the structure was enriched, with all elements in relation to one another, as part of a greater system or structure.

In 1973, he published a detailed description of structuralism:

Image 3: Site plan

37

“The fact that we put ‘form’ in a central position with respect to such notions as ‘space’ or ‘architecture’, means in itself no more than a shifting of accent. What we are talking about is in fact another notion of form than that, which premises a formal and unchanging relationship between object and viewer, and maintains this.

It is not an outward form wrapped around the object that matters to us, but form in the sense of inbuilt capacity and potential vehicle of significance.

Form can be filled-in with significance, but can also be deprived of it again, depending on the use that’s made of it, through the values we attach to, or add to it, or which we even deprive it of, - all this dependent on the way in which the users and the form react to, and play on each other. The case we want to put is, that it is this capacity to absorb, carry and convey significance that defines what form can bring about in the users - and conversely - what the users can bring about in the form.

What matters is the interaction of form and users, what they convey to each other and bring about in each other, and how they mutually take possession of each other. What we have to aim for, is, to form the material (of the things we make) in such a way that - as well as answering to the function in the narrower sense - it will be suitable for more purposes. And thus, it will be able to play as many roles as possible in the service of the various, individual users, - so that everyone will then be able to react to it for himself, interpreting it in his own way, annexing it to his familiar environment, to which it will then make a contribution.”

(Lüchinger, 1981).

Piet Blom was another student of Aldo van Eyck and applied the same structuralist principles to the cube houses in Rotterdam. Though they look strange at first and seem to be a very impractical and experimental form of architecture, they’re really part of a smart system of cells that can be expanded with that same cell on any side. In this case, Blom tilted regular cubes 45 degrees and rested them upon hexagon-shaped pylons. His aim was to create a village within a city. Each house or cell symbolizes a tree and all the houses together represent a forest.//

SOURCES - Hengeveld, J., & Vader, J.W. (2010). Het Rotterdam van Piet Blom. Amersfoort, Netherlands: Hengeveld Publicaties.

- Jones, D. (2014). Architecture – the Whole Story.

London, United Kingdom: Thames & Thudson.

- Curtis, W.J.R. (1996). Modern Architecture since 1900. London, United Kingdom: Phaidon Press Limited.

- Lüchinger, A. (1981). Structuralism in architecture and urban planning. Stuttgart, Germany: Karl Krämer.

- Image 1 en 3: ArchDaily. (2014). Gallery of AD Classics: Kubuswoningen / Piet Blom.

Retrieved from https://www.archdaily. com/482339/ad-classics-kubuswoningen-pietblom/53163875c07a80f19a00003a-ad-classicskubuswoningen-piet-blom-site-plan - Image 2: Het Nieuwe Instituut. (2019). Rijkscollectie voor Nederlandse Architectuur en Stedenbouw. Retrieved from https://collectie. hetnieuweinstituut.nl/rijkscollectie

LARA WALTER

38

The one thing that has surprised me the most in my first year of architecture at Delfts University of Technology is how there is this general image of what skills an architect should or shouldn’t have. In many ways I completely agree with this image that has been created of the things an architect should be good at, yet there is this one slightly “painful area”. At every subject so far I get told how we, architecture students, probably are all “visually set” and, with that, writing (as a way to transfer our ideas) isn’t something we’re good at. Maybe a little prejudgemental but ok, so far so good. But what strikes me the most is when people, yes even architects and professors at our faculty guiding us through our design projects tell me writing isn’t something we’re supposed to be good at.

Yes, I figured that architects over all aren’t phenomenal readers, myself included (in fact, there is a fair chance only one twentieth of the people receiving our magazine will actually read this article, if you’re one of them: hi there, keep up the good work you’re almost halfway!).

I do enjoy books with impressive black and whites of structures, shapes and edges more than a 100 pages long paper about the same. But this doesn’t mean we should neglect the importance of formulating our ideas, not only in images but in actual words.

Anecdote: A first year bachelor student, well prepared, is about to start his final presentation. He hadn’t even started yet when his mentor grabs a pen and a sheet that says: Assessment Form ON1. It is even before he finished his first sentence his mentor had filled in the entire form, folded it up, pressed the cap back on the pen and neatly put them both back in his bag. A little startled the guy continued his presentation, knowing he still had about 9 minutes and 50 seconds to go. There was this awkward moment of silence where you felt everyone thinking: “well… he might as well stop talking then...”

39

Image 1: Scene from the music video of Sexual Healing, Marvin Gaye - adapted

Most of us see the final presentation of our design projects as a short rather irrelevant summary of the work they’ve done in the past 10 weeks. It is more seen as a point in the future when everything needs to be finished than an event itself . No wonder if this is the message that gets sent to some of us while presenting our work. To me presentations should be one of the most important parts of design projects. It’s where you get the chance and full attention to try and convince as many people as you can of your ideas. Liking or approving of a buildings appearance and understanding its floorplans is something important but also quite straightforward.

But presenting and literally articulating your ideas to convince people is a much more powerful tool to use when trying to persuade someone in approving of your design. One may dislike a designs appearance but eventually approve of the idea that’s behind it. That’s not something that can be done by just sketches, renders and floorplans. Presenting and writing about your design should take a much more important place in the designing subjects.

Sometimes we think we know exactly what we want and how we want it. We have this picture in our head, we draw some chaotic lines on sketching paper and we grab scissors and glue to put all these ideas together in a 3D model in hope to convey our thoughts to one another.

And most of the time this works, the image is there, your idea has been transferred and we have a general view of what the intentions are. But there are also many cases in which we think our idea is clear enough but the message is just not coming through. That’s when we need to formulate our ideas in another way.

It’s not only writing and presenting or only sketching and making models etc. It’s the interaction between both that makes our design complete. It’s because of that I think they both should be treated as equally important.

So that I can say, whenever I feel as awkward as described in the anecdote: “well… when I get this feeling, I want textual healing.”//

SOURCES - Marvin Gaye - Sexual Healing (Video). (2013, December 6). [YouTube]. Retrieved June 2, 2019, from https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=rjlSiASsUIs

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

40

That is to say, there is no writing on the wall itself, but the writing on the topic of wall is indeed, very superstitious. In this essay I aim to explore the significance of the written architectural review. What is this thing that we’re doing when writing an article; why do we do it; and what do others gain from reading it; are all questions that seem quite significant not only to the essence of the magazine but to the essence of the students that write and read it as well.

The idea of putting my relatively ill-informed opinions about the built environment into words and letting roughly 1600 people read it seems almost absurd.

Especially considering the fact that I’m merely a first-year student – in fact most of the current magazine editorial team is comprised of first year students. So, I must ask myself on what authority do I write the things I do? For what purpose, and what influence does my writing have on other people?

Generally speaking, my reason for reading any kind of review, be it on architecture (thanks ArchDaily, and Dezeen), film (thanks Criswell, Now You See It, and Every Frame a Painting) or art (thanks The Art Story) is to try and understand the concept of ‘why is this thing good?’ and why should I like it? In this way, I try and understand the reasoning behind the reviewer’s subjective stance on a work of art. What is key to understand is that at the end of the day their review is indeed, simply subjective. But by using their methods of reasoning it means I later gain a sense of agency when talking with friends about whether

or not I thought the film we just watched was good.

I think a similar principle is applied in subjects such as Vormstudie or design subjects. In this case instead of reading a review, your own work is given a face to face review with an expert.

I’m sure you’ve all heard someone at some point in your life saying the following words verbatim: ‘This is a damn fine cup of coffee.’ And you sit there silently nodding your head while you try desperately to grasp at any clue of what on earth makes a cup of coffee good, because to you this coffee just tastes like coffee. Meanwhile, it’s impossible for you to know until someone has defined the criteria by which they assess their drink – I think Shaffer (2005) captures this pretty brilliantly in the play Equus:

“That’s the feeling. All reined up in old language and old assumptions, straining to jump clean-hoofed on to a whole new track of being I only suspect is there. I can’t see it, because my educated, average head is being held at the wrong angle.”

Of course, here the character, Dysart, is not exactly talking about trying to understand what makes a cup of coffee good, but it creates a similar angst; being aware that there is some kind of knowledge or understanding to be had, a ‘whole new track of being’ and yet not even knowing by what criteria that thing can be understood, because your head is being ‘held at the wrong angle’.

So, in that sense I might flatter myself and say that I’m

SUPERST

The problem that lies here within, is that what my beliefs about architecture are founded on, are largely outside of that which science or the laws of nature can define.

And is therefore entirely superstitious. The qualities that I choose to analyse are largely arbitrary, and the things which we point to and say ‘this is good’ for ‘this reason’ might be totally outside of another frame of reference which will only say that ‘this is bad’ for ‘all of these reasons’.

So please, don’t welcome everything we’ve said in this magazine as truth too readily. See it rather as an ensemble of varying perspectives and opinions, ones that praise and slander, and ones that seem to be relatively emotionless and cold. Think about these, and wonder about what you think. No matter which book you read, which teacher you talk to, the criteria for something being ‘good’ will always be different. At the end of the day you are the one creating, and so you need to define those criteria through which you assess your work and that of others. It doesn’t really matter what I think is good or bad, it matters what you think.

By the way, I once heard someone say that he thinks, “The difference between great coffee, and good coffee is a long lingering and pleasant aftertaste.” But I’m not so sure…//

Very superstitious writings on the wall

writing my opinions as a self-defined ‘informed person’ so that I may in some ways help to angle your head to see things in your built environment that you previously haven’t been able to.

TITION

41

Image 1: Notre-Dame Ablaze, by Olivier Mabelly

CHRISTOPHER CLARKSON

43

It is spring again in Paris. The high windows are open and the shutters are closed to keep the late setting sun outside of the Eloïse, a fine bar. The breeze blowing through the shutters is crisp. The birds are agitatedly rearranging themselves in the tree outside and the cries of tired and lost tourist children create a dissonance with the sound of chefs yelling at incompetent garcons.

“Would you like another drink?”

“No, thank you.”

I pay the bill and begin my slightly drunken ascent up the massive wooden stairs into the still too bright evening.

My research paper is due tomorrow. The green lacquered door opens before me onto Rue des Bernardins. As my foot lands on the worn cobbles a passer-by collides with me from the left at full speed. He quickly rights himself and yells some French curse in my direction as he continues running. I do not understand him. Strange, there are no tired and lost tourist children to be seen. The sound of heels hammering the paving all around me, the flashes of purples and yellows and blues of dresses and suits creates a visual blur and there is an orange glow that permeates the oddly overcast sky. Rush hour – I suppose.

I decide to walk back along the river and begin walking in its direction. I enjoy strolling alongside the books and records and rather poor artworks to be found in merchant stands as if I might buy something; listening to the odd insignificant joke of a merchant, and making polite smiles and nods to the old woman that accidentally bumped into me, too focussed on the book she is attempting to reach.

I’m a way down the street now, and the smell of smoke is lingering far longer than it normally would do from the pipe smokers of Eloïse. People are still running. What a strange sensation. I round the corne“Oh Fu*k.”

Notre Dame, Our Lady, has fallen.

44

No, I’m not French, no I’m not even religious let alone catholic, and yet… and yet watching a video of the spire collapsing feels fundamentally wrong, as if it goes against the laws of the possible. Perhaps I’m simply a romantic, though the 800 million euros donated to its restoration and the influx of people posting photos of their school trips, anniversaries, and fond memories attached to the cathedral after its fall seem to suggest that I’m not alone (Block, 2019).

Not only was I mortified because of the fact that a symbol, or rather an icon of architectural history and craftsmanship was vanishing in real time before my eyes but also because of the implications of such an event. That is to say the implication that someone is going to have the opportunity, or rather the nightmare of redesigning the vaults and spire of the Notre Dame. It raises the question; how would you go about redesigning such a building?

What one realises by the occurrence of such an event is the significant symbolic weight that buildings can carry.

People have attached an abstract meaning, association, and emotion to this cathedral. Similar to the ugly teddy bears that my parents have kept from their childhood, the importance of such a building, and its meaning, goes beyond its material worth. As such, regardless of the design that wins the redesign competition, it will almost certainly be a disappointment.

The problem lies in the fact that people want the Notre Dame to have not burnt down. Sadly, no architect can make that happen. And so, the challenge becomes trying to define a new series of vaults and a spire (if we even want a spire – seeing as the original design did not have one (Block, 2019).)

What will be able to speak for the people of today, or at the very least for the architects of today.

In order to better understand the sensitivities of tackling such a problem I’d like to briefly try to understand three church restorations from the last couple of decades.

Though indeed each of these projects, namely The Kolumba Museum, The St. Paraskeva Church, and the Baños Church, each had different functional requirements, and different levels of restoration to be done, they all have a number of things in common.

First and foremost, material choice is the driving force behind these projects’ success. And secondly, the use of light is a crucial element in church design generally, being symbolic of course of purity, and coming from the sky, or the heavens if you will. Light’s importance is in these projects emphasised masterfully. As is discussed briefly in the article Stillness in our previous edition, the use of light can be responsible for the entire emotional response a visitor has to a building.

SOURCES Image 1: ”Notre-Dames de Paris, Paris, France” by Olivier Mabelly (2019) used under CC BY, flipped horizontally from original. [Photograph] Retrieved from http://flickr.com Image 2: Baños Church. (2010). BROWNMENESES [Photograph].

Retrieved from http://archdaily.com Image 3: Kolumba Museum. (2010). Peter Zumthor [Photograph].

Retrieved from http://archdaily.com Image 4: Conservation, Restoration and Adaptation of Church “St Paraskeva“, Vadinska. (2010). Todor Mihaylov, Elitsa Andreeva, Emilia Kaleva, Aleksandra [Photograph]. Retrieved from http:// archdaily.com - Block, I. (2019, April 23). France to launch competition to design a new spire for Notre-Dame. Retrieved May 10, 2019, from https:// www.dezeen.com - Brown, C., & Meneses, P. (2015). Roof over the Walls of the Old Baños Church / BROWNMENESES. (Quintana, L. Trans.). Retrieved May 10, 2019, from https://www.archdaily.com.

- Cilento, K. (2010, August 6). Kolumba Museum / Peter Zumthor. Retrieved May 10, 2019, from https://www.archdaily.com

Baños Church, Christian Brown & Paola Meneses In Christian Brown and Paola Meneses’ renovation of the Baños Church a material that otherwise is completely alien to the original organic stone forms and textures in the old walls, a transluscent polycarbonate that seems to float just above the old ruin as if demarking a place of importance (Brown & Meneses, 2015). The contrast here between the delicacy of the roof and the massive nature of the walls is exactly what heightens the user experience, and brings out these unique qualities of the old walls that are slightly diminished by the chaotic urban sprawl surrounding the building.

Image 2 : Baños Church, BROWNMENESES, Banos

The use of this material also brilliantly creates a diffused light that is at once holy in nature, and again does not distract, but enhances the nature of the pre-existing structure.

Image 3: Kolumba Museum, Peter Zumthor, Cologne

Kolumba Museum Peter Zumthor

45

Peter Zumthor’s Kolumba Museum’s materialisation makes use of hand-crafted charcoal fired bricks which have a certain level of warmth imbued in them (Cilento, 2010). This creates a comforting neutral framework that does not detract attention away from the ruins remaining of the various buildings.

The use of these bricks also creates a rhythmic opportunity that in fact is used to let dappled light pour into the building, aiming one’s attention to the textures of the ruins as they are experienced inside and creating a harmony with the natural world beyond the interior.

St. Paraskeva Church, Todor Mihaylov, Elitsa Andreeva, Emilia Kaleva & Aleksandra Vadinska I think potentially most noteworthy is the restoration of the St. Paraskeva Church. Here as much attention is paid to keeping in step with contemporary times, as is to the vernacular architecture of the surrounding urban landscape.

The use of perforated Cor-ten steel compliments the warm hues of the intricate mosaic and brick work, while not offending the neighbouring buildings.

In terms of light, in the heat of the sun perforations that seem to hover just over old walls create polka dots of light amidst shadows, and is a poetic interaction of different strata of the building’s history.

the the the the

In any case, what all of these works manage to achieve brilliantly is to marry the contemporary with the archaic, whilst acknowledging the sensibilities of the today. The modern additions do not scream so loudly that the story of the underlying structure cannot be heard (which I fear may be the case in some so far proposed redesigns of the Notre Dame). Rather, in their relation a kind of bittersweet tale is told of moving on, and remembering. Something I hope can be achieved in the new Notre Dame.//

Image 4: Conservation, Restoration and Adaptation of Church “St. Paraskeva“, Todor Mihaylov, Elitsa Andreeva, Emilia Kaleva, Aleksandra Vadinska, Nessebar

46

WIEKE VAN LOOKEREN CAMOAGNE LAURA SAVENIJE

1:15:32 P: “Si tu ne veux plus y aller, je ne t’y force pas.

B: “C’est pas toi qui m’y forces. C’est la vie.”

P: “Als je niet mee wil, zal ik je niet dwingen.”

B: “Jij bent het niet die me dwingt. Het is het leven.”

compositie in film Le Mepris

De compositie van kleuren en vormen in elk frame van ‘Le Mepris’ is dankzij regisseur Godard telkens een kunstwerk opzich. Jean Luc Godard was een hoofdfiguur in de toentertijd nieuwe stroming binnen film, genaamd de nouvelle vague. Deze stroming wou zich verzetten tegen de in die tijd gekende films uit Hollywood.

Er wordt vooral gebruik gemaakt van primaire kleuren en de aardse kleuren van de locatie vormen het palet voor de achtergrond. De film speelt zich af in Frankrijk en Italië.

De villa Malaparte, dat op de kliffen van Capri rust, is één van deze locaties. De villa werd in 1938 door architect Aldalberto Libera. Het staat bekend als één van de meest typerende gebouwen voor het Italiaanse modernisme.// SOURCES - Uslar, L. (2017, August 8). Redefining Sensual Aesthetics in Le Mépris ~ Velvet Eyes. Retrieved September 10, 2019, from https://velveteyes.net/movie-stills/le-mepris/ - Yunis, N. (2016, January 4). AD Classics: Villa Malaparte / Adalberto Libera. Retrieved September 10, 2019, from https://www. archdaily.com/777627/architecture-classics-villa-malaparteadalberto-libera

47

1:25:14 P: „Camille?“ … „C’est moi, Paul.” … “Il y a cinq minutes au moins que je te regarde. J‘ai l’impression de te voir pour la première fois.” … “je peux rester ou ça t’ennuie?”

B: “reste, si tu veux.“

P: „Camille?“ … „Ik ben het, Paul.” … “Toen ik net naar je keek, was het net als de eerste keer dat ik je zag.” … “Stoort het als ik blijf?”

B: “Blijf als je wil.”

1:31:03 B: “Plus on est envahi par le doute, plus on sáttache à une fausse lucidité d’esprit avec léspoir d’éclaircir par le raisonnement ce que le sentiment a rendu obscure.”

P: “J’avais souvent pensé que Camille pouvait me quitter. J’y pensais comme à une catastrophe possible. Maintenant jétais en pleine catastrophe.”

B: “Autrefois, tout se passait comme un nuage d’inconscience, de compicité ravie.”

dans

B: “Door meer te twijfelen klampen we ons vast aan een valse helderheid in de hoop dat we kunnen beredeneren wat onze gevoelens vertroebelen.”

P: “Ik dacht vaak dat Camille me zou verlaten. Het was een ramp die kon gebeuren. Nu was het gebeurd.”

B: “We leefden in een wolk van onbewustzijn en in zalige medeplichtigheid.”

MAUD MEIJER

48

u r b a n Art and architecture have always had a close connection to each other. There are, however, forms of art, whose existence depend solely on the built environment. An artform that probably wouldn’t have been around were it not for the presence of built and unbuilt structures. Graffiti and street art, whether legal or illegal, have undeniably made a change in the urban fabric of cities around the world. The power of this urban art lies in the fact that it is seen by people of all walks of life, and it is unselective of social, economic, political or cultural background. This opposed to most of the art displayed in museums that are only visited by a select few. Taking that urban art thus has an impact on the environment within which it is placed, and on the spectators: the people who see the artworks, an interesting question to ask is in what way Urban art can influence the urban fabric of the city? And in what way can it play a positive role in urban regeneration?

A R T

Even though different forms of street art have been around since ancient history, modern-day urban art began to become popular in the 60s / 70s. Back then something called ‘tagging’ was most common, where graffiti artists ‘tagged’ inner city walls, trainlines or any flat surface they could find in the city streets with their signature. However, with the emergence of different movements and social activism, street-artists started using street art as a platform to show their ideas to a wider audience.

At first the general opinion about street art was negative, as it was associated with gangs and it often was created on buildings without permission. Over the years the opinion of street art has shifted. Urban art has become an established form of art, with artists exposing their work in big museums and selling canvasses for high prices. Examples being Banksy and Keith Haring.

Initially, street art was associated with a degradation

47 49

of public space, but now people are using it with the purpose of regenerating neighbourhoods. Especially in city neighbourhoods and towns where urban planning and the importance of visual aesthetics created by art and architecture have been neglected, to say the least, street art can prove useful in the process of urban regeneration.

One very interesting example of street art having a positive effect on a neighbourhood can be seen in the Favela Painting Project. The Favela project is run by the Firmeza foundation that was founded by the Dutch artists Jeroen Koolhaas and Dre Urhahn (also known as Haas&Hahn). The principle of the Favela foundation is to create works of art to regenerate the poor Favela neighbourhoods with the help of local participation. A good description of their main ambitions can be read on their website. ‘’Favela Painting builds bridges between community art, urban planning and social design, creating multifaceted social impact with a lasting legacy. Over the years, Favela Painting has become a creative laboratory implementing art to unite, empower and contribute to an inclusive world.’’

In the image below, you can see their third project. This project was established in a place called Praça Cantão in the neighbourhood of Santa Maria. The project consisted of painting the façades of 30 houses. By doing so 25 people of the local community were employed, and it also involved training the local youth to paint. With the effort of the community, the painting was completed within a month. Like the Praça Cantão project, many other inspiring works of urban art were realised through

this foundation. Empowering local communities to participate together, and with joint effort creating something lively and colourful. And this is only one example of street art helping urban renewal.

Another project worth mentioning are the murals seen in the district of Barriera di Milano in the Italian city Turin.

The murals by the artist Millo have helped rejuvenating and drawing attention to an otherwise unknown neighbourhood.

Along with these projects, there are many other initiatives around the world, where artists are working together with local communities and authorities to create urban art to help regenerate neglected neighbourhoods.

Even though these artworks may not solve all the problems that occur in disadvantaged areas, they might bring some joy, colour and sense of community into a neighbourhood that it otherwise would not have had. // SOURCES - In Good Taste. (2017). The Evolution of Street Art. Geraadpleegd

op 8 september 2019, van https://www.invaluable.com/blog/theevolution-of-street-art/ - Favela Painting Foundation. (2010). favela painting.

Geraadpleegd op 20 oktober 2019, van https://favelapainting. com/ - Millo . (z.d.). Millo_artist. Geraadpleegd op 8 september 2019, van https://www.millo.biz/ - Tunnacliffe, C. M. (2016). The power of urban street art in renaturing urban imaginations and experiences. (ISSN 1474-3280).

Geraadpleegd van https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/development/ sites/bartlett/files/migrated-files/WP_182_Claire_Malaika_T_ June_0.pdf Image 1: Mortensen, J. (2017). The Origin of Spray Paint [Foto].

Geraadpleegd van https://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/06/ magazine/who-made-spray-paint.html Image 2: Favela Painting Foundation. (2010). favela painting [Foto].

Geraadpleegd op 20 oktober 2019, van https://favelapainting. com/

Image 2: Praça Cantao painting project (Favela Painting Foundation,2010)

SERGIO M. FIGUEIREDO

50

The Eindhoven School

chepos Chepos is the independent architecture magazine of study association Cheops of the Technical University Eindhoven. For every edition, Chepos and pantheon// publish one of each other’s articles.

A forgotten avant-garde

After the faculty of the Built Environment celebrated its 50th birthday in december 2017, it hosted an exhibition reflecting on an often overlooked part of architecture history, The Eindhoven School. In this article assistant professor Sergio Figueiredo discusses the origins and meaning of The Eindhoven School, and his ‘exhibitionist apprentice’ Lennart Arpots gives his experience of exploring the Eindhoven School.

Text: Sergio M. Figueiredo In December 1988, the exhibition “The Eindhoven School: The Modern Past” opened at deSingel in Antwerp. Presenting the work of twenty-three architecture graduates from TU Eindhoven (TU/e), this exhibition signaled the emergence of a new type of architecture in the Netherlands. However, unlike the Chicago or the Amsterdam School, the Eindhoven School was not presented on the basis of formal similarities. Instead, it was described as a constellation of diverse attitudes which ranged from Han Westerlaken’s high tech to the refinement of Jo Coenen and the intellectualism of Wiel Arets and Wim] Van den Bergh, but also included the work of John Körmeling, Sjoerd Soeters, René van Zuuk, Martien Jansen, Gert-Jan Willemse, Johan Kappetein, Jos van Eldonk, and Bert Dirrix.

The plurality of the work presented in the Eindhoven School exhibition attempted to capture the unique architectural and educational ethos of TU/e’s Faculty of Architecture throughout the 1980s. Most notably, it was claimed that “unlike usually customary in the Dutch architectural tradition, in Eindhoven there was very little concern for functionalist and modernist dogmatic puritanism.” As such, “in contrast to the [Delft] modernists, for whom the modern ha[d] become merely a matter of routine, [in Eindhoven,] the modern implie[d] a critical reaction to the past, a past in which architecture [did] not allow itself to be reduced to a meaningless fixity in time.” For these TU/e graduates, architecture was more than the pragmatics of function or the aesthetics of form.

Architecture was poetry, in which varying layers of meaning were carefully—and individually— developed through quotes and metaphors, references and analogies. Only through such layered meaning(s), could architecture fulfil its potential and purposefully engage the human condition.

Throughout their studies, these young architects had been immersed in an alternative way of teaching. Their design studios did not focus solely on the development of practical expertise, that is, on the development of ‘typological, tectonic, compositional or technological’ skills, but also on how those skills should be instrumentalized in formulating purposeful social, political and cultural engagement. It was in the combination of the material act of building and the intellectual act of thinking that architecture could be elevated beyond construction and, effectively, fulfil its societal responsibilities. Architecture was perceived as a way of thinking through building.

While such approach to architecture may seem trivial today, in the context of a (fairly) recent Dutch technical university in the 1980s, this proposition was just as radical as it was unexpected.

However, TU/e’s lack of tradition or experience in teaching architecture became perhaps its biggest advantage. Unlike, for example, TU Delft, in Eindhoven there were no existing preconceptions on how architecture should be taught, which not only allowed for a ‘radical’ new approach to the practice of teaching, but also for greater freedom between the intellectual approaches and the material designs of its students.

Despite the formal diversity of the Eindhoven School’s designs, there was a common attitude towards architectural discourse that could be clearly identified among their proposals. This was no coincidence. A greater historical and theoretical awareness had been developed among TU/e’s Faculty of Architecture since 1973, when the chair of Architecture History and Theory (in Dutch, Architectuur, Geschiedenis en Theorie, also commonly known as AGT) was first established with the appointment of Geert Bekaert. The prolific Belgian architectural critic forcefully championed architecture as a distinctive human endeavor which, by being grounded in reality, was uniquely capable of societal and cultural engagement in meaningful ways. For Bekaert, architecture was the “only meaningful existential project,” since it combined thinking and acting. Despite Bekaert’s aloof guidance, his intellectual presence had an immediate effect on the student body, who even considered Bekaert’s signature on their diploma to be “a stamp marking their position in the world of architecture,” one in which discourse and practice

made architecture a critical apparatus for reflecting on—and engaging with—the world around them.

Throughout the 16 years of Bekaert’s tenure at TU/e, the combination of academic and practical knowledge, became the favored device through which AGT attempted to achieve its professed intent of an architectural education based on criticality and construction, creativity and craft, individuality and social consciousness. Therefore, as part of TU/e’s architectural education—and often in combination with design studios—the chair organized lectures, colloquia and seminars with notable foreign invited speakers (such as Giancarlo de Carlo, Charles Jencks, Dennis Sharp, Bob van Reeth, Ricardo Bofill, Rob and Leon Krier and Peter Eisenman), devised new architectural journals and curated exhibitions. Combined, these activities crafted an intellectual climate for architectural education in Eindhoven which was not only reflected in the rich variety of ideas and opinions presented in their students’ work, but also provided a gateway to international architectural discourse—clearly of an eclectic, postmodern flavor—at a time when Dutch architecture was still experiencing a self-imposed exile.

The diversity of designs was inevitably influenced by the diversity of design assignments proposed

by AGT. If, for example, the 1980 studio “The Language of Architecture” aimed to investigate the existence of a formal logic of architecture from a building proposal, and thus translate abstract theory into an architectural design, the 1983 studio “World City Eindhoven” solicited the design of high-rise buildings (and corresponding urban structures) to question the relevance of major paradigms in current architecture, and thus, as a way to advance theory through design. Other studios attempted to awake history by positing the applicability of historical ideas to the present context, from the 1982 “Catholic Buildings” to the 1986 “Durand, Lecons d’Architecture.” Ultimately, while all AGT design assignments explored— and attempted “to operationalize”—the relation between practice, theory and history, their diversity aimed to also reflect the heterogeneity of contemporary society.

Wider recognition of Eindhoven’s unique contribution to (Dutch) architecture culture was expressed both nationally and internationally. If in the Netherlands, this was signaled by invitations

51

to several of the Eindhoven School’s “members” to participate in the first edition of the Biennale of Young Dutch Architects in 1983 and three Rotterdam-Maaskant Prize recipients in four years, internationally it was most clearly articulated through Jo Coenen’s invitation to participate in the first Venice Biennale.

Despite all the praises directed at the Eindhoven School (or its members) thirty years ago, the memory of this particular moment in Dutch architecture culture has been all but lost. While it could be easy to dismiss that what the Eindhoven School signified and identified was a mere aberrant moment for an otherwise unstoppable march of Dutch modernism towards its renowned SuperDutch expression, a closer look reveals how “The Eindhoven School” exhibition (and the architectural education that it represented) may have been the most significant, yet overlooked, moment in Dutch architecture history.

While the historiography of Dutch architecture has (correctly) identified Rem Koolhaas’ Delft symposium “How Modern is Dutch Architecture?” (1990) and the Dutch entry to the 5th Venice Biennale “Modernism Without Dogma” (1991) as significant moments in questioning modern architecture’s position within Dutch practice and, inevitably, for the emergence of a SuperDutch generation of architects, it has (yet) failed to recognize how these events were directly responding to the questions posed by the “Eindhoven School” exhibition (1988), particularly the need to break down dogmas of both modernity and history in Dutch architecture.

While both the Eindhoven School’s label and exhibition were originally constructed to articulate the results of a particular time when some Eindhoven faculty dealt with students in a very free manner, their work nevertheless revealed the crucial role of the practice of teaching architectural design. Specifically, how new approaches to teaching can lead to new impulses and new ideas in architecture with widereaching effects (even if those have been somewhat forgotten today). Most importantly, however, the Eindhoven School shows us how important it is for architectural education to stimulate thinking and acting, to create a thinker space for all forms of inquiries, where architecture can respond, once again, to its cultural, societal, and political responsibilities.

That is, how education should stimulate architecture to be thinking through building.

Hobbyism out of control Text: Lennart Arpots The Fall of 2016 was the start of a lengthy architectural voyage for fellow student Justin Agyin and me: in the freedom provided by the Eindhoven architecture curriculum and fueled by our common need for a collaborative project, Seventh Floor Sergio took us in as his exhibitionist apprentices and together we embarked upon a journey through archives and interviews in search for the true meaning of the classification Eindhoven School. The Eindhoven School, defined by ourselves as the architectural climate that existed at this faculty between 1973 and 1990 under the wings of the chair of Architecture History and Theory , and the resulting group of alumni exhibiting an extremely pluralistic architectural repertoire, ranging from the childlike color pencil drawings of Jo Coenen to the intriguing perspectives drawn by Wim van den Bergh, and from the whimsical creations of John Körmeling to the tragic collages of Gert-Jan Willemse.

Supplemented in the Fall of 2017 with Virtuosi Italiani Dario and Matteo, conception and construction commenced of a massive exhibition on Plaza Vertigo.

For me the most compelling experience was developing a deeper understanding of the architectural and educational undercurrents starting from faculty founder John Habraken’s archi-scientific Open Building philosophy and resulting in the faculty climate that we inhabit today. Usually considered by students the more technologically oriented counterpart of the Delft faculty, the architectural production at the Eindhoven faculty actually has a captivating and often surprising history.

The educational vacuum resulting from the 1968 student revolution which lead to the dethroning of John Habraken in the early

1970s, opened the architectural production in the Eindhoven faculty up to philosophy, mixed media, music and other artistic influences.

Graduation did not consist of creating a new project, rather a compilation was to be created of all the work the student had conducted during their time at the faculty. As such it was not meant to show that the student had developed the skills needed to become an architect, but rather to show the learning curve through which the student had progressed from the start of their studies until the final graduation moment. As such it was possible for John Swagten to create a photo grid of intriguing models and moments indicating his various architectural explorations. John Körmeling graduated with only one A4, a one-page automonography including projects as well as exhibitions hosted in the Hoofdgebouw (Atlas).

This freedom, augmented by the simultaneous presence of architectural historian Geert Bekaert, critic Joost Meuwissen and theoretician Gerard van Zeijl, was a unique feat that dominated the Eindhoven faculty of architecture for the better part of two decades.

The three academics mentioned, compiled in 1988 the first exhibition on “De Eindhovense School”: a classification that since had been revisited a number of times, but never received the full investigatory attention that it deserved, until now.

Images: 1. Eindhoven School exhibition in Vandenhove, Ghent (Photo: Dario Sposini) 2.

Collage by Gert-Jan Willemse Sources: 1. Joris Molenaar, “Architectuur,

Vrijheid en Individualiteit: De Eindhovense

School in Antwerpen” Archis, 1989. 2. Gerard van Zeijl, “Opening van de Tentoonstelling: ‘De Eindhovense School, Het Moderne Verleden,’” December 14, 1988, 2, Geert Bekaert Archive, Univ of Ghent. 3. Pier Vittorio Aureli and Saskia Kloosterboer, “No History as History, No Theory as Theory: A Conversation with Geert Bekaert,” Hunch: The Berlage Institute Report, no. 4 (2001): 40. 4. Christophe Van Gerrewey, “A Chance of Survival. Introduction,” in Rooted in the Real: Writings on Architecture, Vlees & Beton 87 (Gent: WZW editions and productions, 2011). 5. Jos van Eldonk, “40 Squares / Casa Novissima,” 1989. 6. Gerard van Zeijl, “Projecten Bij de Vleet,” in VIII Jaar AGT: Projectwek 1980-88 (Eindhoven, 1988).

1

2

52

G E T I N S P IRE D G E T I N S P IR E D G E T I N S P IR E D G E T I N S P IR E D E X H I BITION S TO V ISIT Lina Bo Bardi Giancarlo Palanti. Studio d’Arte Palma Design Museum Gent

Kleurrijk Japan - 226 affiches uit de collectie Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam

This exhibition in the Design Museum Gent gives tribute to the Italian-Brazilian architect Lina Bo Bardi. She was a prolific architect and designer and devoted her working life to promoting the social and cultural potential of architecture and design. This exhibition focuses on the less-known furniture from the Studio d’Arte Palma, founded by Lina herself and the Italian architect Giancarlo Palanti.

The Stedelijk Museum honors the Japanese graphic designer Shigeru Watano (1937-2012) with the exhibition Colorful Japan in the Hall of Honor where no fewer than 226 Japanese posters will be on display. Watano, who lived in the Netherlands, was an indispensable link between the Stedelijk and many Japanese designers

Wim Crouwel - Mr. Gridnik Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam The Stedelijk Museum also honors Wim Crouwel (19282019) with the exhibition Wim Crouwel: Mr. Gridnik, which shows a selection of his graphic design. In 1963 he was cofounder of the design agency Total Design. He remained involved with the company as a director for a long time.

From 1964 Crouwel was responsible for the design of the posters, catalogs and exhibitions of the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam.

I N STAG R A MS TO F O LL OW @brickofchicago

@lorrainesorlet

@george.townley

@olifantenpaadjes

53

SHOW S TO WAT C H Abstract: The Art Of Design Netflix Original Series, 45 min

Explained Netflix Original Series, 20 min

This series highlights artists in the field of design. The fields vary from shoe design to photography, and even interior design and architecture. Bjarke Ingels himself takes you on a trip inside his mind and shows how his designs are created.

Always wanted to know how your memory works? Or why some people are monogamous and some polygamous?

Why diets always fail? How the female orgasm works?

This series explains it all. It consists of two seasons of short episodes, all narrated by a different quest narrator. It really broadens your horizon and makes you look at things differently.

B OOK S TO RE AD Architecture of Density Michael Wolf, Natasha Egan, Ernest Chui

Life between buildings Jan Gehl

Focused on the specific visual elements of Hong Kong, german photographer Michael Wolf has depicted high density living in one of the world’s most crowded cities, like nobody has before.

Life Between Buildings is Jan Gehl’s classic text on the importance of designing urban public space with the fundamental desires of people as guiding principles. The book describes essential elements that contribute to people’s enjoyment of spaces in the public realm. These elements remain remarkably constant even as architectural styles go in and out of fashion and the character of the ‘life between buildings’ changes.

any plans for september? join our team! internships in Rotterdam, Groningen or Cologne www.dezwartehond.nl or mail jobs@dezwartehond.nl

Architecture | Urbanism

54

HUMANS OF BK David Marcinek - 4th year student

Mijn persoonlijke verhaal is een ontwerpproces. Ik heb veel ideeën en ik zet veel energie in om die ideeën te realiseren, door te blijven denken en blijven werken. Dat is ook een kuil waar je kan in vallen op Bouwkunde. Geef jezelf gelegenheid om fouten te maken, daarvan leer je. Goede cijfers alleen zijn niet toereikend, ik vind het belangrijk om op andere vlakken ook te blijven ontwikkelen. Ik zal niet cum laude slagen, maar ben wel bezig andere dingen die me interesseren. Het is belangrijk om pauze te nemen en te genieten van wat je vroeger deed. Soms ben je verbaasd van wat je vroeger hebt gedaan.

Mees Paanakker - 3rd year student

De studie Bouwkunde is een goed voorbeeld van een plek en studie waar hart en hoofd samenkomen, en ook de reden dat zoveel mensen het hier naar hun zin hebben. Voor mij was dat meteen duidelijk voordat ik hier kwam studeren, op de opendag. Van tevoren netjes rationeel alle opties te hebben overwogen ging ik met mijn vader een aantal open dagen langs waarvan Bouwkunde in Delft een van de eerste was. Ik wist niet goed wat ik moest verwachten, maar op papier leek het wel iets waar ik me in zou kunnen vinden.

De open dag verliep zoals zo’n opendag verloopt en ik kan me er eerlijk gezegd niet veel meer van herinneren. Wat ik wel nog goed weet is het moment vlak daarna en het korte duidelijke gesprek dat ik met mijn vader had voor de hooftingang van Bouwkunde.

Pa: ‘Nou dat zag er wel leuk uit of niet?’ Ik: ‘Ja inderdaad, ik denk dat ik hier ga studeren.’ Pa: ‘Wil je nog bij een andere studie kijken hier in Delft.’ Ik: ‘Nee eigenlijk niet, ik ga hier studeren denk ik.’ Pa: ‘Oke, zullen nog naar Bouwkunde in Eindhoven gaan kijken.’ Ik: ‘Nee, ik ga hier studeren.’ Pa: ‘Nou mooi, dan gaan we naar huis, is dat geregeld.’

DORSA GHAEMI MEES VAN RHIJN

Jolt Wiersma - 3rd year student

My interest in Architecture was influenced by my interest in the Titanic, not only because of the historical story but also the ship and its internal workings itself. With its various public and private spaces, the ship was like a city on the sea, a new technical innovation that everyone admired. I began to look at many plans of the ships, trying to understand how all the different spatial elements fit inside it so harmoniously.

As a hobby I started to really dissect the ship, even going to museums to see never before released floorplans and experience the recreations of the spaces of the ship. Eventually I wanted to make my own model of the ship, combining this technical side with a creative side and learning various modeling techniques and drawing details of the structure of the model for example its internal framework and how to connect it with the outside of the ship without compromising its external look. So with that I then looked into studies that had both a technical and a creative side and that’s how I made my choice to study Architecture.

Eddy Brunelli - Grond steward BK City

Wanneer gevraagd wat zijn functie het beste omschrijft, is Eddy’s antwoord ‘steward aan land’. In BK City springt hij soms in in het Ketelhuis wanneer het druk is, maar voornamelijk is hij bezig met banqueting van evenementen op de faculteit. Al sinds zijn jeugd in Rotterdam is hij bezig met eten, toen hij voor het eerst blauwe aderkaas at bij zijn opa en oma en hij zijn boterhammen per se met mes en vork wilde eten, ook al keken mensen hem raar aan. Tegenwoordig drinkt hij elke morgen een glas warm water met daarin algen, kurkuma en appelazijn voor de verfrissing.

Dit schijnt goed te zijn voor de gezondheid, onder andere door de vele antioxidanten. Bovendien vindt hij het belangrijk om op Bouwkunde goed te drinken vanwege de droge atmosfeer die in het gebouw heerst.

Naast eten is ook duurzaamheid een belangrijk begrip voor Ed. Vlees hoeft niet elke dag, en ook het bestek in het Ketelhuis is gemaakt van rietsuiker en biologisch afbreekbaar. Op zijn terras thuis bloeit de lavendel volop en dit trekt hele bijenpopulaties aan, wat hem altijd goed doet. Bovendien zorgt het team in het Ketelhuis er altijd voor dat de verse groenten en vruchten die rond het eten liggen, worden in verwerkt in de maaltijden en salades.

Op Bouwkunde geniet Ed van het leveren van goede kwaliteit en eten waar mensen van genieten. Het is belangrijk dat iedereen in het team zich op zijn of haar gemak voelt, en hiervoor doet hij volop zijn best. Het sociale aspect geeft hem veel energie, maar behalve zijn werk als grondsteward in BK City, zijn er voldoende artistieke uitspattingen. Deze lopen uiteen van schrijven tot acteren tot schilderen, ontwerpen en kostuumgeschiedenis. Dan draagt hij een grote oorbel en een gouden pinknagel, omdat hij dat zelf leuk vindt. Hieraan hecht Eddy dan ook veel belang: eerlijkheid en anderen in hun waarde laten.

55

ROOS TE VELDE

56

THE TIME On september the 27th, there was a global climate strike in The Hague.. It was part of the Global Climate Strike Week, where over 7.6 million people went to take to the streets and participated for climate action. Here in The Netherlands more than 30.000 people raised their voices and marched through the city. //

IS NOW “We will not let you get away with this.

Right here, right now is where we draw the line. The world is waking up. And change is coming, whether you like it or not.�

Greta Thunberg, 2019