Tzu-Yu Su RISD MArch2016 Thesis by Tzu-Yu Su

NORMALITY / ABNORMALITY how literature with deranged minds as the subject matter inspires and creates architecture

A Thesis presented in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Architecture in the Department of Architecture of the Rhode Island School of Design By Tzu-Yu Su Rhode Island School of Design 2016

Masterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Examination Committee Approved by:

_______________________________________________________________________________ Hansy Better Barraza, Associate Professor, Department of Architecture, Primary Advisor

_______________________________________________________________________________ Emanuel Admassu, Assistant Professor, Department of Architecture, Secondary Advisor

_______________________________________________________________________________ Anne Tate, Professor, Department of Architecture, Thesis Coordinator

ABSTRACT

The Thesis explores the relationship between literature and architecture and attempts to invent a method to metamorph texts and words into architecture. Through writing, drawing, and model making, the thesis examines the invented method with a housing project titled as â&#x20AC;&#x153;urban asylum.â&#x20AC;?

CONTENT

Thesis Statement Positioning Statement Subject Matter Methodology Program Statement Site Statement Case Study Object Probes Taipei Urban Asylum Bibliography

THESIS STATEMENT

“Normal” is a violent word. Don’t use it for soothing. Don’t force it on somebody. Normal is itself an extreme of insanity.

my friend, you crouch? Why, my friend, on this busy street? Why, you push your hands against your ears? Why, my friend, you open your mouth wide? Why, my friend, my friend, it’s been a while? Why, my friend, you scream so

loud but i can’t hear a sound?

Peculiarity is normal. Peculiarity is common. Why one has to act normal, While one’s peculiarity is totally harmless?

POSITION

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Graduation project is the embodiment of how one lives and survives through architectureâ&#x20AC;? Takamatsu Shin, Japanese architect Before cominging to RISD and studying architecture, I had studied and earned the bachelor degree of English literature and German language. However, for the past two years, I havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t encountered a moment when words, terms, paragraphs, or a story spark the imagination of space or spatial form. Rather, the process works the opposite way that a drawing or a model inspires words and fantasies that tops and outshines the architecture project. From the frustration, grew the curiosity of how space, form, or spatial logic are inspired by words and texts. Thesis project provides the opportunity, time, and will be the experimental field for me to bridge my undergrad background in literature with architecture. People would hardly doubt that modern literature inspires and influences modern architecture. Yet while searching for the examples of how literature inspires architecture, I often encountered examples that spaces or buildings described in literature are treated as a reflection of social background, psychological state of the protagonist; or rather that people confuses literature with linguistic devices. Roland Barthes, for example, collect words or scribbled thoughts of different people that contribute to the same topic, and assemble the words together to form a seemingly logical paragraph or to a collective stream of consciousness. The strategy, however, appears to me more of a linguistic device that focuses on playful analogy, deconstruct, and reconstruct actions than a literary one. Literature focuses more on the understanding and delivering of context and is not a mere operation. None of the examples shows or explains to me how words and texts can be the seed of architecture.

SUBJECT MATTER

With literature as the method, “an incomplete mind” will be the subject matter. An incomplete mind is someone who appears and functions as normal but in reality standing on the brink of breaking down. Terms such as mad, crazy, ill-minded are avoided on purpose for the reason that people tend to fall into the dichotomy trap of categorizing themselves or the others of being “crazy” or “ not crazy” upon the encounterment of the terms. Whereas it’s in fact a common issue that everyone more or less has or is related to. What are the characters of a space that eases a deranged mind? What will the mental sapce of a deranged mind look like in its concrete incarnation? I wish to study the relations of the unsteady mind and the rationales and explore how the fragile ones are protected / controlled / bullied by rational restraints.

METHODOLOGY

To start with the thesis project, I plan to read through the studies of asylum design to get a glimpse of how “normal people” think of “abnormal people, and literary works that describes and addresses an incomplete mind. Types of literary works will range from essay, poem, fiction, theatrical plays, artworks, and movies. Literary devices such as metaphor, repetition, chiasmus, doppelganger, and stanza are used as methods to generate spatial elements and create space. The generative rules should be explored and clarified so that the site can be set up. Literary devices should be distinguished from linguistic devices to avoid confusion between the two. Along with the reading, I will write reflections on the readings. Literary devices will be applied in the writings. And based of the writings, drawings and models will be made, and act as a transitor to transform words and texts to form and space.

PROGRAM

Even though literature and architecture are both a form of cultural production, the two have very different traits. Whereas literature is the reflection of human condition, architecture is the projection of human condition. Program serves as the generative logic that shapes and fills the interior space, and, at times, exerts its impact on the exterior of architecture, which can be either the skin or the mass. If rooms are the interior space and divisons of architecture, what will the room that projects the mental space of a deranged mind look like? Is the space a projection of fear, a corner to calm the restlessness, a closet to hide, a glass dome for screams, or an infinite loop of timeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s fragment that a frenzed mind is trapped in? What are the exterior and its relation to the interior then? If the interior is the sincere projection of oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mental space, will the exterior be the disloyal mask one puts on to hide his/her abnormality? Or the projection of other peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s perception of the incomplete mind?

SITE

Site is temporal. It is an extract of time within which a mindstate is at. It is documented through words. Thus, literature becomes the internal and external context that where and how the architecture is built. Site can also be the physical boundary of the medium, on which the work is written on, in this case, the literary devices will produce the spatial elements that occupies the site.

CASE STUDY

GLOSSARY

HARD linguistic devices, structural, logic, grammatical

SOFT literary devices, emotional, atmosphereic, expressive

SYNTAX (n.)

SEMANTICS (plural, n.)

SEMIOTIC (plural, n.)

SYNTACTIC (adj.)

SEMANTIC (adj.)

the arrangement of words and phrases to create well-formed sentences in a language 1. a set of rules for or an analysis of this 2. the branch of linguistics that deals with this

the branch of linguistic and logic concerned with meaning 1. the meaning of a word, phrase, sentence, or text

the study of signs and symbols and their use or interpretation

LITERARY TERMS TERCET (n.) a set or group of three lines of verse rhyming together or connected by rhyme with an adjacent tercet

CANTO (n.)

CANTICA (n.)(plural cantiche)

one of the sections into which certain long poems are divided

A religious or narrative poem Example: The Inferno, the first book of Danteâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s epic poem The Divine Comedy. The epic is made up of three cantiche (cantica), The Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso, each cantica being made up of multiple cantos.

DANTEUM GIUSEPPE TERRAGNI

HARD Geometry in numeric order

SOFT Concavity & Convexity

Poem structure: 3-line tercet

• The geometrical shapes define the relationship between the material the • Rhyme pattern: the first line rhymes forms and object and empty space with the third line, and the second line rhymes with the first line of the • Concavity forms the topographic next tercet (aba bcb cdc...). Creating form of Dante’s Hell an overlapping effect and a sense of • Convexity forms the shape of progression embedded in the layout Purgatory and design of Danteum

Gravity & Levity Numerical correspondence to the Divne Comedy

• Gravity: the forest of 100 concrete columns locates in the Atrium displays the greatest force of gravity

• Levity: 33 glass columns in the Hall of Paradise gives the space a light and • The Divine Comedy is composed weightless atmosphere. of 3 cantiche (Inferno, Purgatory, Paradise). Each cantica has 33 cantos, Matter with one extra in the first cantica, • Solid matter: perceived through making a total of 100 cantos. sight, touch and hearing; related to • 1, 3, 7, 9, 10, 100

• A monumental wall filled with three factors: material, dimensions, 100 marble blocks, the number is and distribution equivalent to the cantos of the Divine • Atmosphere: only perceived through Comedy sight; defined by the use of light and • A forest of 100 columns shadow

HOUSE OF CARDS PETER EISENMAN

HARD Deep Structure Structure

vs.

Surface Syntactic signs in House I to IV

• Deep structure: conceptual • Surface structure: perceptual • The two structures do not necessarily coincide or become transparent to each other • Syntax as the deep structure and performs as basis for formal conception of architecture that reacts against perceptual relativistic realm of conventional meanings, a decontextualization

Syntax vs. Semantics • Syntactic approach of architectural design: formal, independent of any functional interpretation, that is, the functional meanings are never contained in explanatory notions • Semantic approach of architectural design: the meanings are assumed to be known and are seen as culutural, conventional attribution of functions or forms

• signals, singular entities which become signs only through their relationship to other signals • phonetic difference “p”:”up” vs. “put”

the

sign

Architectural Signs & Linguistic Signs • Difference between the two: linguistic signs are socially accepted facts while architectural signs are not; architectural sign is an entity, which always relate iteslf to a function or a meaning, whereas linguistic sign preexist and can exist without any entity of function or meaning

SOFT

HOUSE OF THE SUICIDE JOHN HEJDUK

HARD SOFT The Suicide

Writing • The initial draft of an idea. The characters and forms are described through words and assigned materials • Writing is used to frame, stimulate, and expand the idea of the character of architecture • Materials for the writing are reflections of experience or memory of the past

Drawing • A transition between written texts and three-dimensional architectural form

The Funeral of Jan Palach When I entered the first meditation

I escaped the gravity of the object, I experienced the emptiness,

Masque • Derive from texts and drawings. The masque is a character/costume assigned to the architecture. A bigger scene or site is provided as a stage for different masques to have conversation and interaction

When alive he was obsessed with Cezanne. He believed that the Farm public missed essential and important characteristics about Cezanne. He felt that Cezanne did not want to be touched. The Suicide could even imagine that Cezanne in his privacy put on white gloves that buttoned down at the inner wrist. He knew that Cezanne dealt with the major themes of murder, rape, incest, fear, foreboding, volumptuousness, suicide, sexuality and nature’s silent horror. The Suicide had done an intese investigation into the work of Ingres and he was able to make a connection between Cezanne and Ingres. He was puzzled by the fact that all of Ingres’s portraits had claw-like hands. The painted hands reminded him of turtle’s claus. Cezanne’s lanscapes had an aura of dread in them, particularly the ones of rocks and pines. Cezanne’s woods were places of premeditation and were filled with redemption. The photograph of Cezanne and Pissarro appeared to him to have caught the inability of distance. There remained the problem of the StillLifes. He mentioned them in wonder. He thought they captured the numerology of dates. It was still-life yet stilltime. The fruit bowls came from ornate dish closets where the shelves were covered in embroidery. Ther vertical hanging drapes were removed from static dry rooms where the wooden caskets of dead relatives absorbed the heat of the sun and the light of the day. Knives were prevalent in the still lifes, also kitchen drawers. He pondered Cezanne’s banality, emptiness, detachment, but what frightened him the most was the irreconcilability of the photo of Cezanne at 40 and the phoro of Cezanne at 67. He was unable to put them together. He concluded that there was an imposiibility. John Hejduk

TEXT GIUSEPPE TERRAGNI

PETER EISENMAN

existing work from others

SUBJECT MATTER

PROGRAM

Inferno / Paradise base layout and structure an epic poem by Dante Divine Comedy

Purgatory

SITE / Rome, Italy

Fascist Regime

of the space, also use as a about his spiritual journey of 3 cantiche of Divine Comedy, reference for the character religious fulfillment the embodiment of the and atmosphere of space journey described by the work

intersection of Via dell’Impero and Via Cavour (originally intended for the National Facist Party headquarters)

propaganda for mussolini’s fascist regime and a library for the public to unite italian people

grammatical rules

no site

everyone

decontextulization

through the encounterments with excessive / unfamiliar architectual elements , users read the space with multiple and ever-changing meanings

paper / city

masque

grammatical rules

formulas to generate infinite spatial possibilities

JOHN HEJDUK

USER

self-written

masque

used as both material and a place, a reflection, tool to frame and inspire feeling, an experience design ideas

ZIYU self-written SU writing and texts

masque a masque as specific characters in theatrical plays, can be assembled in different stages (sites) to inspire different conversations

normality vs. abnormality

are more the projection of the mental than materials for design , space of an incomplete piece thery also perform as a tool of mind, a mad person to frame and inspire ideas

the masques are put the character of the together either on the masque, many of them are drawings or they’re Hejduk’s inaccessible reflection of a specific place or city

interior vs. exterior

the mental space

the incomplete mind

the interior space as the projection of one’s mental space; the exterior space as the mask one puts on in a social life or the projection of other people’s thoughts of a deranged mind

site is temporal. It is an extract of time in which the mind is trapped in. Thus, the texts that describes the dranged mind becomes the context

someone who stands on the brink of breaking down yet still appears and functions as normal.

THE

RAVEN

EDGAR ALLEN POE

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Rhyme

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, 古老迷人

引人入勝

遺忘的知識

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping Aliteration

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Repetition

“Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door, Only this, and nothing more.” Excerpt from “The Raven”

OBJECT

“There are many types of loneliness. But those of the profoundest are unspeakable. ...... People with mental illness, regardless at what age they got it, they hadn’t been able to express themselves clearly. It was until the illness broke out that they started to speak. By that time, nobody could understand what they’re speaking anymore.” Hu, Shu-Wen

translated by Tzu-Yu Su

I found a plate on a street, burried in the yellowed pine needles. Its previous owner left it there for itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s broken, no longer complete, unable to perform what it was made and bought for. Yet for a first-time aquaintance like me, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s as complete as any new plate one can found in a kitchenware shop. It holds well my little plaster scrap, which the others misperceive as a slime-contaminated trash.

I smashed the cube with a hammer and tried to piece them back in one. Then I realized, it’s impossible to repair the interior of the cube. All the location clues lies on the exterior faces. I have no idea where to put the ones that have no exterior face. People still perceive the repaired one as a cube though, a cube with cracks. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that people can’t see the big hollowness lying beyond and burying inside the cracks.

PROBE

ELEVATOR

Spider / Corner I want to be a spider in my next life So that I can crawl from one corner to another Nesting, solidifying my petite territory Two sides safe Two sides to be alert of Goodâ&#x20AC;Ś Goodâ&#x20AC;Ś

ELEVATOR

CORRIDOR/STAIRS

What is it like to be trapped? Is it like when one tries to leave and run away from a place, but no matter how long or where one goes, one always returned to the same spot whether consciously or unconsciously. Maybe one doesn’t want the exit. The familiar fear provides the assurance of one’s existence and sense of securement. What is the pattern of this runaway? Is it linear, a loop, or a spiral? And what about the daily routine? Is the pattern of daily routine linear, a loop, or a spiral? I need a philosopher to talk to, or a talkative middleaged person/elder from the neighborhood will do. I shall plant a philosopher and a talkative elder in my brain. Water them and have them talk to me. I wander in the accustomed daily normalcy, enjoy the smoothness weaved by experience, with my brain chill and unbothered. Till some enormous and unexpected deviance dropped and interrupted the all-too-familiar, backgroundmusic-like daily life, and altered for good the daily notes, which had been carved on every inch square of my flesh. The deviance should have been confined within that specific day, that specific hour, minute, and second it occurred, and within that specific place, that specific spot, but it didn’t…. It fell so violently on the smoothness that even it is past, no longer there, I, my fucking brain started to project that fucking horror, a timid act of defense and preparation for the might-never-happen-exactly-the-same deviance, a nightmare that happens not only at nighttime, a nightmare that happens regardless you are asleep or awake. I don’t know why, or rather, I don’t bother to know why I’m obsessed with rehearsing and experiencing this derailment again and again. And each time I chew it, I obtain and add more detail and flavor from and to it. What is it that I try to conquer or negate? Is it the incident itself, the self that responded to the incident, or the response I made towards the incident? If I chew it long enough, will it finally be bland, and will I be confident enough to spit it out? I need to plant a philosopher, or a talkative middle-aged/elder will do. I need to plant them in my brain. Water them, and have them talk to me. I need to talk. I need a person to talk to, spitting and sticking the bland deviance bit by bit on the other.

CORRIDOR / STAIRS

WALL

When I have trouble falling asleep, I comb the wall with my fingers, to feel the subtle cracks, the reminiscences of the paintbrush. I’ll sit up obtrusively in silence, and get more involved in this game of tracking. I’ll find a void to whisper the gibberish and secrets in, and then smear the warm breath away with my palm and seal the words. Good night, I’ll tell you more, next time.

I tuck the secrets into the wall and yet you hide yourself in.

I embrace you as if I am cuddling my lover, even though your stiffness leaves my arm straight and unclosed.

A wall with cracks, a wall with secrets, a wall with traces A wall that hides, a wall that refuses, a wall that hugs

What is wall? It’s a segregation, a note, a manifestation, a protection, a tombstone.

WALL

WINDOW

I threw a swamp of sky for you on the floor, my friend Because I know you never lift your head. Throw a swamp of sky for you on the floor So that you know, Though the world hasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t change a bit Since the last time you looked at the sky It remembers and misses you still.

WINDOW

Hide a tree in a forest. If I stand straight enough or be really quiet and still, will you hide me? To perfect my invisible ability, I conducted a strict closed-door practice among a forest of columns. Days passed, and months flowed. Finally it’s about time to test my skill. The heavy metal door muffled as it closed behind my back. I imagined myself a secluded masters from a Kungfu novel. I squinted my eyes and gave the earthly world a long, profound gaze. I’ve chosen a buoyant district as my trial ground. My heart settled as I aspirated slowly and steadily. I made a firm strode that rocked the universe. Among the forest-like crowd, I was frozen…

COLUMN/BEAM

I forgot... that...... people...... move......

It existed the moment you first came into the room, showed no surprise or refuse to your then presence and later being. You, instead, were stunned. It stood prominently in the middle of emptiness, left no clue about whether it just came or was about to leave. As a display of friendliness, you held a banquet in front of it. It didn’t accept nor refuse. It was just there listening to your awkward pleasantries and tipsy nonsense. Content with your courageous friendliness, you left the banquet there, and started to call it “friend” because it never told you its name. Oh, excuse me, it never made a sound. But it has shown its amiability through its quietness and permanent stay, you confirmed yourself. “Friend,” you called it. Having dinner with your friend everyday after work became a habit, a daily ritual. It never rejected your hugs. You were deeply drawn by the way it stands. “How indomitable and magnificent,” you thought. Your friend’s pride always guide you through the low tides and hullabaloo of life. You thought about decking out your friend, and drawing it a face, but decided not to after all. You’re afraid that your friend will die if you draw it a face, like “Chaos” in Chuang Tzu.

The Ruler of the Southern Ocean was Shu, the Ruler of the Northern Ocean was Hu, and the Ruler of the Centre was Chaos. Shu and Hu were continually meeting in the land of Chaos, who treated them very well. They consulted together how they might repay his kindness, and said, ‘Men all have seven orifices for the purpose of seeing, hearing, eating, and breathing, while Chaos alone has none. Let us try to chisel the orifices for him.’ Accordingly they chisel one orifice for Chaos a day when seven days passed, Chaos died.1 1“Zhuangzi: The Normal Course for Rulers and Kings,” trans. James Legge, http://ctext.org/zhuangzi/normal-course-for-rulers-andkings

COLUMN

DOOR/WINDOW

WALL

CORRIDOR/STAIRS_01

I threw a swamp of sky for you on the floor, Because I know you never lift your head. Throw a swamp of sky for you on the floor So that you know, albeit the world hasn’t change a bit since the last time you looked at the sky It remembers and misses you, still.

Trapped What is it like to be trapped? Is it like when one tries to leave and run away from a place, but no matter how long or where one goes, one always returned to the same spot whether consciously or unconsciously. Maybe one doesn’t want the exit. The familiar fear provides the assurance of one’s existence and sense of securement. What is the pattern of this runaway? Is it linear, a loop, or a spiral? And what about the daily routine? Is the pattern of daily routine linear, a loop, or a spiral? I need a philosopher to talk to, or a talkative middle-aged person/elder from the neighborhood will do. I shall plant a philosopher and a talkative elder in my brain. Water them and have them talk to me. I wander in the accustomed daily normalcy, enjoy the smoothness weaved by experience, with my brain chill and unbothered. Till some enormous and unexpected deviance dropped and interrupted the all-too-familiar, background-music-like daily life, and altered for good the daily notes, which had been carved on every inch square of my flesh. The deviance should have been confined within that specific day, that specific hour, minute, and second it occurred, and within that specific place, that specific spot, but it didn’t…. It fell so violently on the smoothness that even it is past, no longer there, I, my fucking brain started to project that fucking horror, a timid act of defense and preparation for the might-never-happen-exactly-thesame deviance, a nightmare that happens not only at nighttime, a nightmare that happens regardless you are asleep or awake. I don’t know why, or rather, I don’t bother to know why I’m obsessed with rehearsing and experiencing this derailment again and again. And each time I chew it, I obtain and add more detail and flavor from and to it. What is it that I try to conquer or negate? Is it the incident itself,theselfthatrespondedtotheincident,ortheresponse I made towards the incident? If I chew it long enough, will it finally be bland, and will I be confident enough to spit it out? I need to plant a philosopher, or a talkative middleaged/elder will do. I need to plant them in my brain. Water them, and have them talk to me. I need to talk. I need a person to talk to, spitting and sticking the bland deviance bit by bit on the other.

COLUMN_01 It existed the moment you first came into the room, showed no surprise or refuse to your then presence and later being. You, instead, were stunned. It st ood prominently in the middle of emptiness, left no clue about whether it just came or was about to leave. As a display of friendliness, you held a banquet in front of it. It didn’t accept nor refuse. It was just there listening to your awkward pleasantries and tipsy nonsense. Content with your courageous friendliness, you left the banquet there, and started to call it “friend” because it never told you its name. Oh, excuse me, it never made a sound. But it has shown its amiability through its quietness and permanent stay, you confirmed yourself. “Friend,” you called it. Having dinner with your friend everyday after work became a habit, a daily ritual. It never rejected your hugs. Youweredeeplydrawnbythewayitstands. “How indomitable and magnificent,” you thought. Your friend’s pride always guide you through the low tides and hullabaloo of life. You thought about decking out your friend, and draw it a face, but decided not to after all. You’re afraid that your friend will die if you draw it a face, like “Chaos” in Chuang Tzu. The Ruler of the Southern Ocean was Shu, the Ruler of the Northern Ocean was Hu, and the Ruler of the Centre was Chaos. Shu and Hu were continually meeting in the land of Chaos, who treated them very well. They consulted together how they might repay his kindness, and said, ‘Men all have seven orifices for the purpose of seeing, hearing, eating, and breathing, while Chaos alone has none. Let us try to chisel the orifices for him.’ Accordingly they chisel one orifice for Chaos a day when seven days passed, Chaos died.1 “Zhuangzi: The Normal Course for Rulers and Kings,” trans. James Legge, http:// ctext.org/zhuangzi/normal-course-for-rulers-and-kings

I like to sprawl on the icy-cold concrete wall on a hot summer night, feel the wall sips my daily dribs and drabs away with my temperature, pacifies the nerves, loosens the frown, and glides me into the velvet dream. I tuck the secrets into the wall and yet you hide yourself in. A wall with cracks, a wall with secrets, a wall with traces, A wall that hides, a wall that refuses, a wall that hugs. What is a wall? It is ... a segregation, a note a manifestation, a protection, a tombstone

ELEVATOR

CORRIDOR/STAIRS_02

Spider / Corner I want to be a spider in my next life So that I can crawl from one corner to another Nesting, solidifying my petite territory Two sides safe Two sides to be alert of Good… Good…

In one of the many wild dreams I was being chased by light. I was running so fast that I think I reach, even surpass the speed of light. My heart stabilizes with this joy of pride. Then I noticed something crawling from beneath my feet, so dim and vague I couldn’t tell what it is.or the response I made towards the incident? If I chew it long enough, will it finally be bland, and will I be confident enough to spit it out? I need to plant a philosopher, or a talkative middle-aged/elder will do. I need to plant them in my brain. Water them, and have them talk to me. I need to talk. I need a person to talk to, spitting and sticking the bland deviance bit by bit on the other. BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! (Heart ceased) GOT YOU!

The space that accommodates the moment is distorted. The moment that accommodates the space is delayed.

TAIPEI SITE

Three hundred years ago, Taipei was still a lake. People followed the watercourse and entered the low land that sits inside the mountains. They constructed conduits to cultivate the farmland. Until fifty years ago, the times when people’s hands and feet are wet are longer than when they’re dry. Later on the houses followed the western trend and started to grow up restlessly. As if it’s going to grow a mountain in the center of the basin and press down the mountains that walled Taipei. The lake was drained but the basin stays humid as usual. The lake water converted into sweats and tears, secreted from the skin and eyes, vaporized into the air, rode on the cloud to escape to the sky. The clouds carried people’s wishes to throw the distress far away over the wall of mountains. Yet the labor of people was too solid, and the sorrow too thick. Not so high up in the sky, the clouds couldn’t carry the sweats and tears any further, so the sweats and tears turned into rain and fall back to the Taipei city, year after year, month after month. Rain writes the stories of people on the roofs, walls, windows, asphalts, grasses, puddles, and muds. Sometimes it writes so fervently, that it falls on people, cars, and buildings like fists. It smashes and blurs, the story can no longer be read, leaving only the dabbing sounds rocking the eardrum, and branding the life of the city onto people’s skin. There are also times that rain writes so light yet dense, like the soft caresses of silk. If you would, you could find a plain concrete wall to watch the rain drizzles the stories. The rain in Taipei never drains, so are its stories that wishes to be told again and again. It rains after rains, year after year, month after month.

TAIPEI BASIN

URBAN ASYLUM A

HOUSING

PROJECT The urban asylum is not a crazy house. It is a place where people can feel at ease and be themselves. No need to try or act normal to satisfy social etiquette and expectation. The room is itself the projection and reflection of the inhabitantâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s projection.

URBAN ASYLUM: A HOUSING PROJECT

WINDOW ROOM MASTER PLAN

WINDOW ROOM PLAN

WINDOW ROOM FRONT SECTION

WINDOW ROOM SOUTH SECTION

Jennifer Bloomer, Architecture and the Text: The (S)crypts of Joyce and Piranesi (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995) Thomas Schumacher, The Danteum (Princeton: Princeton Architecture Press, 1985) The Cubist Poets in Paris, ed. L.C. Breuing (Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1995) Vidler, Anthony. The Architectural Uncanny: Essays in the Modern Unhomely (Cambridge: The MIT Press, 1992) Frank, Ellen Eve. Literary Architecture: Essays Toward a Tradition: Walter Pater, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Marcel Proust, Henry James (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979 Writing the Modern City: Literature, Architecture, Modernity, ed. Sarah Edwards and Jonathan Charley ( London: Routledge, 2012) Architecture & Literature: Reflections / Imaginations, OASE 70 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2006) On Territories, OASE 80 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2009) Building Atmosphere, OASE 91 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2013) Thierry Lagrange, “A Matrix as an Analogous Space / A Mental Tool for New Insights,” OASE 85 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, -------) Iris Schutten, “Development-Based Management / Time as an Instrument for the Creation of Value,” OASE 85 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, -------) Patrick Bouchain, “ An Architecture Close to Its Inhabitants,” OASE 90 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, -------) Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason, trans. Richard Howard (New York: Vintage Books, 1988, c)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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