Urbanogram: Recording & Responding Cities

Recording & Responding Cities

Editorial Note

Anita Schrattenecker

What sort of incitement motivates a party of architectural graduates to start the enterprise of publishing an online journal? “Don’t lose momentum“ was the maxim frequently expressed by their tutors during a time of intense studies of Architecture & Historic Urban Environments MA at The Bartlett School of Architecture in London. After fnishing their training, it was this closeness and productivity that provoked the wish to exchange their experiences and awareness for their surroundings, regardless of their physical separation. Today, the contributors are set up in various parts of the world, and keeping up momentum by collaborating in this journal. Despite the extraordinary time of its creation during a state of emergency, the Covid-19 pandemic did not curtail the young architects´ enthusiasm for this publication, but rather, intensifed their sense of the shared experience.

Urbanogram is a journal catering to the needs of young professionals to publish their impressions and perceptions of ongoing changes in urban environments. Highlighting a specifc moment in time, this journal represents a compilation of snapshots of urban collocations of habitats, neighbourhoods and communities around the globe. The 2021 issue “Recording and Responding Cities” combines articles about metropolitan cities by capturing their attributes, depicting their status quo, and demanding responses to urgent urban challenges.

The close intertwining of architecture with abundant forms of biographies makes this journal suitable for a diverse readership. The representation of cultural diversity and pluralist worldviews account for key parameters of the authors´ work. This heterogeneity can be found in topics approached, but is also noticed in writing styles and culturally shaped forms of expression. Where necessary proper names as well as key phrases typical of specifc geographical regions were therefore explained in the articles. For the individual articles either British or American spelling has been agreed on with regard to the cultural and linguistic idiosyncracies of our writers´ manifold nationalities.

By refecting on urbanity, such as the roof-top festival in Rotterdam, unnoticed vernacular architecture in Spain or the essence of the shape-giving River Thames in London, the journal renders visible exceptional, customary and unusual unfoldment. The reader of Urbanogram will also encounter concepts related to arts, such as kintsugi, the century-old Japanese repair tradition which gained traction in applied architecture. There is insight into the city of Lahore in Pakistan and its reverberating, embracing vicinity that is at the same time sufocating by trafc density. Finally, the magnifying glass is pointed at the Covid-19 pandemic of the present global state of emergency, in order to enlarge our individual perception of the current spatial experience.

Map of the world showing locations of the authors of Urbanogram

Introduction to the Journal

Great relationships - and great adventures - often are born in the studio; this journal is a product of both.

Our cohort of Bartlett alumni, before re-uniting to create this journal, frst came together in the studio. We exercised a diverse range of approaches to our work in historic urban environments. Some were research-driven, others practice-driven. We were making, tinkering, exploring, pattern-fnding, unearthing, and in one way or another, scrutinizing the built form of cities within a continuum of past-present-future. In understanding an urban environment, we examined the line drawn between its past forms and its present composition. Drawing that line forward, and projecting a potential future in a place - an adaptive reuse of a structure, or the anticipated evolution of urban design - was often where our imaginations were focused.

Looking back on these studios, it is no surprise that we are, in a variety of international professional settings, still pursuing these same areas of architectural inquiry. Urbanogram: Journal of the Built Environment is a platform for architecturally-minded researchers and practitioners to share their unique documentation of the built environment within its historic continuum. We are each, in our own way, documenting a specifc point in time in diferent urban environments around the world. Our contributors will be sharing pieces from their ongoing research, academic works, professional projects, and articles.

This inaugural journal is titled “Recording and Responding Cities”, in the spirit of a memorable module many of our authors took while at the Bartlett - “Surveying and Recording Cities”. It speaks to the duality of our work in architecture and urban design, particularly when it is set in historic urban environments. We record sites in order to understand what has shaped them - through research, surveys, detailed observation, measuring, sketching, photographing. This act of recording is so profoundly integral to our process as architectural professionals that, in many of our projects, it can be the bulk of the workload. This journal issue is an homage to the process of understanding the context of a site, in order to discover how to respond to it in the act of building, renovating, or adapting. We explore how we may respond to the built environment, and how the built environment responds onto itself - organically shifting and reacting in ways no one person can control. These stories are each a refection of how the contemporary city - the way in which it uniquely functions with its modern systems, lifestyles, and situations - is woven into an already complex and richly defned historic urban fabric.

In summary, the stories in this journal are tied together by a focus on critical observation - of quietly listening to the city, discerning each of its melodies, pulling apart the layers of its music, and fnally, calling back to it.

Cassandra Osterman

Contributors

Cassandra Osterman, AIA NCARB is a practising architect in the United States. Cassandra is an associate at Per fdo Weiskopf Wagstaf Goettel architecture, where she specialises in afordable multi-family housing and historic, adaptive reuse projects.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018 BArch, Carnegie Mellon University 2014

Fanny Ciufo is a practising Italian architect. She has worked in international ofces in Rome, London and Rotterdam (MVRDV). Currently, she is based in Paris where she continues her research between theory and practice with a special interest in the urban environment.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018 Italian architectural licence 2017 BArch and MArch Architecture, Sapienza University of Rome 2016

Lei Jiao began her career as an urban designer in 2018. Working at London based practice Alexandra Steed URBAN, she commits herself to framework masterplanning, landscape design and placemaking.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

MArch, School of Architecture - Huaqiao University 2016 BArch, School of Architecture - Yantai University 2013

Longhua Gu is a practising urban designer and architect, working with BENOY at their London studio. She has worked in Shanghai and London, with interests in historic urban contexts and building interventions. Her design inspirations come from a wide range of mediums such as art, flm and literature.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

MA Architecture, Liverpool University 2012

BArch - China University of Petroleum (East China) 2011

Neha Fatima, PCATP is an entrepreneur and academic, running her own practice in Pakistan under the name of Arcline, she struggles to keep a balance between academia and the practising world of architecture. She specialises in renovation, adaptive-reuse and restoration projects. She is also an active member of ACHS.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

BArch, National College of Arts, Lahore 2014

Sophie Schrattenecker practises architecture in Austria where she is an active member of planning processes on site from start to fnish. Research and travels continuously inspire her written work about contemporary informal architecture embedded in historical contexts.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

MArch, University of Applied Arts, Linz 2017

BArch, University of Applied Arts, Linz 2014

Stefan Gruber is based in Austria where he practises and writes about architecture. His theoretical work deals with topics such as the role of memory in the built environment as well as social and cultural implications of architecture.

MA Architectural History, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

MArch, University of Applied Arts, Linz 2017

BArch, University of Applied Arts, Linz 2014

Xin Zheng is based in Shanghai and started her career as an editor of an architectural practice magazine. She has a special interest in the modern architectural history of China, and keeps focusing on the condition of colonial built heritage and its meaning for contemporary China.

MA Architecture and Historic Urban Environments, The Bartlett, UCL 2018

BArch - Xi’an Jiaotong-Liverpool University 2017

Further contributions:

Many thanks to Anita Schrattenecker for helping to proof-read this issue and to Edward Denison for encouraging and supporting our venture of creating this journal.

Rotterdam: The City in the Sky

Rotterdam is an incredible city, an experimental architecture lab where science, technology, urbanism, and sociology meet unexpectedly. This article is a tribute to this spirit, which is manifested exemplary in the Rotterdamse Dakendagen, the festival of the open roofs. Welcome to a completely new way of experiencing cities.

INTRODUCTION

There are cities full of memories and tales, where buildings are lost in innumerable conversations, where present, past and future coexist like in dreams. Some are silent, looking desperately to catch a dialogue or a glance between their passengers. Others instead arrogantly show themselves as experienced actresses. They are the protagonists of an everyday drama where a mixture of social inequalities and opportunities smells life.

And then, somewhere in the Netherlands, there is Rotterdam, between a traumatic history of destruction¹ and a vibrant present. A dynamic, noisy air wraps the buildings, which lie next to each other without competition: the Cube Houses, the Markthall, the de Rotterdam, the Hotel New York, and all the housing. A skyline rebuilt on the wounds of the bombs of the Second World War, with freedom and understated design, shaking of the normative urban approach.

The secular Rotterdam is fresh; her appearance is of a perfect machine - open, democratic, carefree. Perhaps, this is why it was chosen as the citadel of contempo-

rary architects, where they could fnally escape from the dogmatic, weighty, almost sacred idea of architecture. In this apparent lack of stimulus, creativity blooms and new ways of recording and understanding the cities are imagined.

Rotterdamse Dakendagen² was born from this atmosphere; the annual festival consists of opening the terraces of over 40 roofs for a weekend, some famous, some completely unknown, some public, and some private. It is a slightly ironic invitation to change the point of view, to unpredictably encourage the exchange of smiles between the top of the buildings.

The frenetic up and down creates an artifcial landscape of terraces, bridges and hanging gardens, a city in the sky to see the present, remember the past, and imagine the future. Surprisingly, another signifcant moment in history when Rotterdam was experienced from above was during the Second World War when bombs were dropping in catastrophic circumstances. The historical pictures reveal the emptiness and loneliness of the destruction; there are no buildings, just black and white heaps of rubbles.

Fanny Ciufo

[1] Werner Warmbrunn, The Dutch Under German Occupation, 1940–1945 (Redwood City : Stanford UP. 1963).

The 14th May 1940, during the Second World War, the entire city centre of Rotterdam was destroyed by bombs by German aviation. Hitler sought to conquer the nation in one day, but it received strong opposition. Tragically, almost all the buildings in the city centre fell except The City Hall. 80,000 civilians became homeless, and 900 civilians were killed. The reconstruction of Rotterdam started in the 1950s, with signifcant development through the 1970s.

[2] Daken : roofs, Dagen : day

This time, citizens take this bird’s eye view gently and colourfully to celebrate the skyline and the city’s reconstruction.

In this article, I seek to record the spirit of the event as it relates to the history of Rotterdam, while analysing the social and identity implications. Furthermore, we explore the impact of diferent long term projects on the urban environment, made visible by the festival, and discuss the potential of further developments.

Finally, we conclude with a design proposal: a vision of how to create a permanent nomad twin-city on the roofs, a maze of spaces, and fexible structures that connect the top of the buildings.

The core proposal concept centers on the possibilities of roofs as a new artifcial landscape, a city in the city, and a resilient answer to the imminent rising of the seas due to climate change.

[Image 1] View from the roof of Las Palmas.

Image by the author (02/06/2019)

[3] ‘Crowdfunded Luchtsingel pedestrian bridge opens in Rotterdam’, https://www.dezeen. com/2015/07/16/ luchtsingel-elevatedpathways-bridgesrotterdam-cityscape-zusarchitects (accessed 13 March 2021)

Luchtsingel: air canal

The structure has been described by the architects ZUS as the “world’s frst crowdfunded public infrastructure project”. An extraordinary example of participation and architecture, the initial fundraising came from a crowdfunding campaign, supported by 8000 people. The names of the supporters are inscribed into the wooden boards that clad the bridge for every €25 donated. The main aim was to reconnect two areas of the city separated by the railway.

THE EVENT

The Netherlands has a special geo-morphological appearance; its fat landscape strictly interconnects with the sea. The sophisticated dams are the guardians of a population of expert sailors and engineers, protecting a unique land below the sea level. Rotterdam is Europe’s largest portthe name itself derives from the city’s origin as a dam in a small river (the Rotte). In this maritime horizontal city, robust, healthy seagulls yell in the air while the smell of salt blends with the one of fried fsh from the market. Cancelling out the vivid memories of the bombardments during the Second World War, life is crawling with activities and events.

Rotterdamse Dakendagen (Rotterdam rooftop days), is an event which happens the frst weekend of June, when the rooftops of over 40 buildings are open to experience the urban scene in a completely diferent way.

Since the beginning in 2015, this event has been a success. During the 2019 edition, over 22,000 urban explorers participated, starting their journeys to discover Rotterdam from a unique point of view. The city transforms into an open-air museum, it is possible to access the festival in three different ways, buying a ‘Dakpas’ (€8.50), by booking a tour (€12.50) or by experiencing one of the thirty special events such as concerts, theatrical performances, dinners, lectures and symposia. The limited dimension of Rotterdam allows people to navigate easily from building to building, by walking or using the bike. It is fascinating to see how Rotterdam becomes this hybrid: both a place of passage and routine, but also a dynamic museum under the sky. The city is deconstructed, broken and exploded into endless exhibits, beyond borders and walls, through stairs and lifts, focusing on the interactions between the visitors, granting them the richness of the urban environment. It is a remarkable, revolutionary, overturning experience.

Interestingly, the phenomenon is not confned to monuments, but it is extended all over the urban fabric, including private buildings and residential ones.The non-hierarchical horizontal approach, embedded in the Dutch culture, is refected in the catalogue of open terraces. In this

network, historical, industrial, public and private spaces come together in dialogue upon the future of the city. It is incredible to observe the variety of installations and design projects that pop up every year, encouraging a playful approach to the urban environment.

For example, terraces of a parking garage may transform into a plant supermarket and a life-size bamboo maze. Jan Prins School’s rooftop, next to the Markthall, was converted into a gym in the sky. Similarly, on the top of Groot Handelsgebouw, a multi tenant business building symbol of the reconstruction, is a place where visitors enjoy a children’s playground. Finally, the highest buildings, with a spectacular 360degree view of the city - like the central post, the skybar Maassilo, or Las Palmasact as special windows to the city. All the rooftops become a stage for events, parties, lectures and art installations.

The heart of the festival is around the Luchtpark Hofbogen, the rooftop of the former Hofplein Station - 16 arches recognized as a national monument in 2015. The central station was bombarded in 1940, with signifcant damage to the head station, roofng and platforms, and was rebuilt in 1950. In 1990, it was demolished because of the construction of the NS railway tunnel under Blaak. Nowadays, what is remaining of the platform - the long rooftop with the existing canopy - has a vegetable garden, while architectural pavilions appear from time to time. On summer nights, Luchtpark is the perfect venue for parties and events, like open-roof cinema.

The Luchtsingel³, a 400-metre-long yellow pedestrian bridge, designed by the Dutch frm ZUS, connects the top of the arches to the Dakakker, the frst harvestable rooftop in the Netherlands, a particular piece of landscape lost in the city. The relation between Luchtpark and Dakakker is the most revolutionary and progressive part of the city; the dialogue of terraces, bridge and green spaces is a small manifesto of a new way of designing cities. The continuous alternation of nature and urban environment is one of the strengths of the event. This successful urban intervention is where everything started, and the main inspiration for the movement of the rooftop. It is an alternation of nature, heritage and urban environment.

[Image 2] Map of the main roofs open during the Rotterdamse Dakendagen

Abstracted foorplan of a supermarket (Hofer) showing the alterations in organisation due to the pandemic and the government’s legal restrictions.

(1) Mandated use of face masks - required to enter the supermarket

(2) Disinfectant for shopping carts, baskets and hands

(3) Control of maximum number of people inside the shop

(4) Tapes on the foor indicate the distance between the customers - at least 1m

(5) Glass partition walls protect the cashier

Image by the author

[Image 1]

If You‘re Scared, Stay At Home

Observations on the impact of the Coronavirus pandemic on spatial experience, power relations and the sense of limitation

The Coronavirus pandemic impacts every aspect of our lives. Ranging from a global to a regional scale, from long-term to short-term implications, some of these restrictions and changes are more obvious and expansive. In this regard, the following essay discusses four diferent observations and their connection to the built environment and spatial experience in general.

INTRODUCTION

The focus of this essay lies on the analysis of specifc interrelations between the Coronavirus pandemic and the topics such as physiology and body experience, nationalism and regionalism, governmental power and its implication on everyday life as well as the counterbalancing efects of the digital space on mental health. The selection of topics is based on personal observation during the time of the pandemic and follows the notion of scale - from the microscopic and personal space to architectural dimensions and further on to the national and global scale. Decrease in social activity and isolation form the reaction to the pandemic and the digital media acts as a substitute to those tendencies. As of today, the Coronavirus outbreak is still evolving which makes this work a contemporary witness of the time it is written. In this regard this essay does not only explore the topics mentioned above but also documents some of the discussions and developments when they happened with the help of newspaper reports and other contemporary sources. The title of this essay is a reference to a quote on a sign which

frst appeared on the front door of a café in Colorado. Despite governmental shut down orders it opened illegally and customers deliberately refused to wear face masks or keep safe distance to each other. Similar forms of protest against the lockdown could be witnessed in a number of other countries as well. The quote therefore highlights the public debate about the dangerous nature of the Coronavirus and the necessity or efectiveness of governmental reactions to it. Furthermore, it declares the home a safe spot for the scared while the use of public space becomes “an act of rebellion”. 2 As Michel Foucault writes, the act of division, for example between ill and healthy or by nationality or gender, is one of the processes involved in objectivisation and thus forms subjects of power relations.3

First, this essay helped me to analyse and understand current changes and events during the time of the frst lock down (in Austria) and the period afterwards. Now, this work enables me to gain insight into the process of refecting the past while anticipating further challenges the pandemic might bring about in the future.

[1] ‘Dozens of people pack into Castle Rock restaurant in the face of public health order’, https://www. washingtonpost.com/ nation/2020/05/11/colorado-restaurant-illegal-reopening/ (accessed 18 May 2020)

[2]‘The Monday Times: Illegal Dining, Obamagate, Twitter & Hug Gloves’, https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=RkmquXVR6Ws&t=61s (accessed 18 May 2020)

[3] Michel Foucault, ‘The Subject and Power’, Critical Inquiry v. 8 n. 4 (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1982), p. 778.

Stefan Gruber

’Turbulent Gas Clouds and Respiratory Pathogen Emissions’, https://jamanetwork. com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2763852 (accessed 05 June 2020)

[5] Lydia Bourouiba, ‘Violent expiratory events: on coughing and sneezing’, Fluid Mech. v. 745 (Cambridge University Press, 2014), pp. 537-563.

‘Visualizing Speech-Generated Oral Fluid Droplets with Laser Light Scattering’, https://www.nejm. org/doi/full/10.1056/ NEJMc2007800?query=featured_home (accessed 01 May 2020)

[6] Edward Hall, The hidden dimension (New York: Anchor Books Edition, 1990)

ABOUT BIOLOGICAL BORDERS, PHYSIOLOGY & PERSONAL SPHERE

This pandemic is, as most health crises are, a crisis of the individual as not only the impact on our society, but even more so each individual is part of the threatening potential of the Covid-19 pandemic. Its dimensions, although the impact is of a global scale, are defned by the human physiology.

The human sneeze can emit light particles - so called aerosols - up to a distance of 7-8 metres4, which then can stay airborne several minutes. Heavier particles which are emitted through coughing and speaking travel about 0.5 - 2.5 metres.5 The risks and the infectiousness of airborne particles heavily depend on various factors including temperature, wind speed, humidity, size of the droplets and the number of viruses carried in those droplets.

Combined, those factors draw an invisible

Source: Bourouiba, Lydia, Violent expiratory events: on coughing and sneezing, Fluid Mech. Vol 745 (Cambridge University Press, 2014), p. 542

sphere around each one of us. In this way, this personal sphere now becomes more dominant in our daily lives. Everything that happens outside of this sphere seems to be of no harm, everything that intrudes might potentially be harmful to us as we get exposed to the risk of infection. The longer this crisis and its restrictions continue, the more incorporated and lasting the new sensitivity will become. In addition to (or in replacement of) these physical norms, in many cases, governments have defned a safe distance for us, our personal sphere if you will. It ranges from 1 metre (e.g. Austria) to 2 metres (e.g. UK) but most countries opt for 1.5 metres (e.g. Germany, Australia, USA 6 feet or 1.8m).

If juxtaposed with Edward T. Hall’s interpersonal distances6, these new norms of social distancing highlight some similarities in the defnition of bodily spheres. Hall’s most intimate distance around the human body ranges up to less than one inch, which can be interpreted as the sphere of clothing

[4] Lydia Bourouiba,

[Image 2] Images of a person sneezing indicating the distance heavy particles can travel. Aerosols can travel much further.

and in this case face masks. The personal distance (ca. 0.45 to 1.2m - distance from family and very close friends) and the social distance (close phase 1.2m to 2.1m - distance when talking to friends) fall into the spheres banned because of social distancing measures. Consequently, this suggests an automated form of social distancing with unfamiliar contacts which leaves the new norms to regulate our close social contacts.7

With the introduction of legally mandated face masks as additional protection, our physical barriers become even more perceptible and visible. Face masks inevitably visualise the fact that each person can potentially infect somebody else. And although most masks don’t provide sufcient protection for the individual wearing it, they nonetheless remind us of the border between our body and the space around us. Similarly, the sensation of using gloves and disinfectant for our hands reminds us of the tactile trace we leave and our body movement, which otherwise we do subconsciously most of the time, therefore, automated and subconscious actions need to be reconsidered and adapted.

Earliest types of masks during the plague with their pointed noses aimed, beside other aspects, at keeping distance to infected people and prevent subconscious contact. All these developments lead towards a new and at least temporary form of body awareness in the way we experience our bodily spheres and the spatiality connected to it, but also our close environment and surroundings to which we relate and react to. Consequently, the overall decreasing efect of the pandemic becomes perceptible with our human body and in the most extreme case, for example self-isolation, the worldwide pandemic is broken down to the individual.

[7] Additionally, it generally raises awareness, especially in places where distance is hard to keep.

[Image 3] Travel distance of particles emitted through coughing.

Diagram (a): heavy droplets of up to 700µm in size can travel ca. 0.5m

Diagram (b): lighter droplets of up to 30µm in size can travel ca. 2.5m

Source: Bourouiba, Lydia, Violent expiratory events: on coughing and sneezing, Fluid Mech. Vol 745 (Cambridge University Press, 2014), pp. 537-563

Image by the author

[8] The “baby elephant” is used as a reference by the Austrian government in their Coronavirus info campaign to visualise the legally mandated distance of 1 metre between people who do not live in the same household in order to contain the transmission of the virus.

[9] ‘Verordnung des Bundesministers für Soziales, Gesundheit, Pfege und Konsumentenschutz gemäß § 2 Z 1 des COVID-19-Maßnahmengesetzes

StF: BGBl. II Nr. 98/2020’, 15 March 2020

[10] In reference to the phrase “new normal” as a way to describe the altered everyday life after the lockdown.

[11] Compare to trafc rules with trafc lights and symbols

[12] Foucault, p. 782.

[13] ‘No masks allowed: stores turn customers away in US culture war’, https:// www.theguardian.com/ us-news/2020/may/22/usstores-against-face-masks

(accessed 05 June 2020)

THE BABY ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM8

The legal framework introduced by governments to address the pandemic, drastically impacted our everyday life and consequently our spatial experience as well as the use of architecture and the public space. It is therefore highly unusual for most of us to witness such restricting and widespread governmental power structures.

The rift between private and public space dramatically increased as “stay at home” or “shelter in place” orders were issued and the use of and access to public infrastructure was strictly limited to certain exemptions.

In Austria for example, those exemptions had been:

1. the prevention of damage to life and property

2. to assist people who need help

3. to cover essential needs and requirements such as food and medicine

4. to go to one’s workplace

5. public places in the open (e.g. streets and some parks) if the mandated distance between persons can be guaranteed at all times.

Many countries introduced much stricter legislation, especially concerning the stay at home order and the limited access to public space (compare to point 5). Additionally, points 3-5 include specifc guidelines on how to minimise the risk of transmission such as social distancing, the use of face masks, limitation of the number of customers or visitors to 1 person per 10m2 and the implementation of protective barriers such as glass partition walls or measures to ensure the required distance. Shops and institutions, if allowed to open, quickly adopted and introduced or altered their layout and organisation to meet the criteria, thus forcing the “user” to follow the guideline of this “new architecture”.10

The analysis of measures as introduced by supermarkets, shops and other institutions indicates a more or less fxed routine of movements and procedures customers have to obey. It further shows that paths of incoming and exiting visitors cross each other which is problematic in the current situation. Additionally, various forms of micro-management can be witnessed, for example when and where to put on a mask

or to disinfect one’s hands, to stop and to wait or to take a shopping cart.

This strongly resembles the architecture of security zones at airports, transport hubs, public buildings and tourist attractions which serves to order the masses or provide safe zones. By nature, it is a highly commanding type of environment which aims at merging the individual into a more manageable group to be handled by a standardised set of rules.11 Let’s keep in mind that there is an intrinsic connection between the legal framework, e.g. building codes, and the actually built environment and therefore exercise of power by law and design itself are intertwined. Institutional power as exercised by states is managed between the two poles of individualisation and totalisation12 and for this reason the consequent efects range between those extremes, too. When Foucault talks about the integration of individuality into a system such as a state, he also remarks that the condition is, that individuality has to be subject to specifc rules. This pandemic not only brought with it the introduction of new and specifc rules, it also made the struggles visible which are inevitable in order to subordinate individuality. These struggles become obvious in showing power exercising by reconstructing spatial organisation and relation with the tools of micro-management of movement, spatial measurements and accessibility.

The same factors can then become the act of rebellion and protest which efectively elevates inconspicuous gestures such as not wearing a mask (and formerly wearing a mask at protests) to a political and power relating meaning, similar to the efect of walking while a pedestrian light tells you to stop. Especially the requirement to wear masks seems to become a highly protested issue since protesters see it as a (visual) form of suppression and as a loss of self-determination to wear a mask. 13

The pandemic does a sort of unmasking of its own, or at least a temporary visualisation, in the way power is exercised through restrictions of space, movement and the “management” of the individual as well as of the masses. As the crisis shows, long standing norms and traditions can change rapidly and we too are subject to this change.

Kintsugi on Repairing Architecture

Behind tags of social media defnition

Kintsugi, which is an ancient porcelain repair technique that originates from Asia, became a popular hashtag on global design media websites and platforms, and has had great infuence on art works and architectural repair projects. To demonstrate this phenomenon, case studies are explored to discover the connections between the initial thoughts of design and its Kintsugi hashtags on social media platforms. Then, the philosophy of Chan and Wabi Sabi behind Kintsugi are brought in and compared with Western Patina ideological trends, to indicate the resonance between the two, and in a further step, to explain the possible reason of the popularity of Kintsugi on repairing architecture works in the western cultural background. This article attempts to touch the phenomenon of Kintsugi fever behind the social media tags, and provides a brief introduction of its trace and development in a global background. Above all, this article is trying to bring in a broader perspective on the ideological connection of Kintsugi with the western patina philosophy on architectural restoration for artists, architects and scholars who are interested.

INTRODUCTION

Kintsugi1, 金 , also known as Kintsucuroi 金繕 is a Japanese word referring to an ancient porcelain repair technique which blends Chinese and Japanese lacquer decoration craft technique, dating back to 15th centuryImage1. At the present moment, compared with other traditional repair techniques such as stable repair (that is used in limited scope of heritage restoration), Kintsugi has been recognized as an art genre that expanded much further on both artistic creation and cultural infuence factors through social media websites and articles.

When searching for ‘Kintsugi’ on Pinterest - which is probably the most commonly used media service website for artists and designers to look for inspirationstons of ceramic drawings and images pop out, showing potteries carrying scar-like fssures flled with golden or silver linear decorations. There are also derivative works with Kintsugi patterning

on sculptures, painting and jewellery. Surprisingly, there are a couple of images of architecture projects embedded in this search, including luxury restaurant interior design, Street Lego installations, to the rebirth of a hundreds of years old mansion. In social media, Kintsugi, as an ancient technique for repairing broken porcelain, has been spread from Asia to the wider world, and has been represented as a decorative art genre. It provides the source of inspiration to thousands of art works and building intervention projects. Unlike being used as a technical, binding agent on ceramic objects and sculptures, Kintsugi on architectural works is normally tagged as a graphical beauty reference on websites such as Pinterest. However, although Kintsugi tags are added to those architectural projects, the evidence of the direct infuence of Kintsugi is unclear at best. In the following paragraphs, two sets of architectural restoration examples will be presented. Anahi restaurant by Maud Bury2 and Dispatchwork by Jan Vormann3, which are cited as Kintsugi in Pinterest

Longhua Gu

[1] Kintsugi “golden joinery”, also known as kintsukuroi (“golden repair”), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. (wikipedia)

[2] Maud Bury is a creative director and interior designer based in Barcelona, Spain

[3] Jan Vormann is a German artist who scales the globe using legos to patch up deteriorating buildings, landmarks, and anything else in need of colour.

and other social media platforms because of their graphic similarity with Kintsugi’s actual appearance, are explored to clarify their design thinking and interpretation of Kintsugi. Then, we explore Querini Stampalia4 by Carlo Scarpa and Splitting by Gordon Matta Clark5, which are cited in articles in reference to the spiritual infuence of Kintsugi. We will study this based on racing back to its origins and symbolic signifcance.

When frst entering the Anahi restaurant, hidden in a narrow backstreet in Paris, you would not associate it with a high end Argentinan dining place or a newly fnished restoration work. Its ceiling remains the former art deco design from original decoration, while walls are covered with white glazed tiles with rough, long breaks flled with gold. The way of healing the broken ceramic tiles with gold dust and appreciating the crack in a celebratory manner

seems to unsuspiciously reference Kintsugi, both in beauty and technique. Many articles label Anahi’s interior works, which were designed by Barcelona-based designer Maud Bury, as the typical Kintsugi decoration style, such as on Pinterest articles noting the so-called Kintsugi art on its walls. However, when exploring the journal entries, project introductions, or ofcial project descriptions by Maud and Philippe Starck6 (whom she worked alongside for nine years), Japan or Kintsugi are never mentioned . In the article on Yazter website the phrase “Kintsugi-like design” is used to describe how Bury has used copper leaf, which in time will oxidise to give a more subdued efect, to grout or fll the cracks and which ties in nicely with the solid bronze-backed chairs.

The Dispatchwork by Jan Vormann is a series of urban art installations where Legos are flled in the gaps of broken walls.

[Image 1] Tea bowl, Photo by Marco Montalti Instagram: @KintsugiShoppe www.realkintsugi.com

[4] The Fondazione Querini Stampalia is a cultural institution in Venice, Italy, founded in 1869. Architect Carlo Scarpa designed interior, exterior, and garden elements and spaces on the ground foor of the historic building.

[5] Gordon Matta-Clark was an American artist best known for his site-specifc artworks he made in the 1970s.

[6] Philippe Starck (born 18 January 1949) is a French industrial architect and designer known for his wide range of designs, including interior design, architecture, household objects and furniture, boats or other vehicles.

[7] ‘Jan Vormann talks about his Dispatchwork Project patching up walls with Lego’, https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=gxcGOvHnQGc&feature=emb_title (accessed 07 March 2021)

[8] https://www.dispatchwork.info (accessed 02 January 2021)

[9] Manuela Antoniu, ‘Between the Lines’, in Mark Dorrian and Christos Kakalis (eds.), The Place of Silence: Architecture / Media / Philosophy (London: Bloomsbury 2020), pp. 83-90.

[10] ‘Zen master: Carlo Scarpa and Japan’s guiding infuence’, https:// www.wallpaper.com/ architecture/carlo-scarpa-japanese-infuences-explored-at-the-maxxi-foundation-in-rome (accessed 13 March 2021)

[11] Alan Forster et al., ’Western and Eastern Building Conservation Philosophies: Perspectives on Permanence and Impermanence’, in Paulo Lourenço (eds.) International Journal of Architectural Heritage, v. 13 n. 2.

[12] Walters Weintraub et al. (eds.), ‘Urushi and Conservation: The Use of Japanese Lacquer in the Restoration of Japanese Art’ in Ars Orientalis, Vol. 11 1979 (Freer Gallery of Art, The Smithsonian Institution and Department of the History of Art, University of Michigan), pp. 39-62.

[13] Christy Bartlett, ‘A Tearoom View of Mended Ceramics’ in Christy Bartlett, James-Henry Holland, Charly Iten (eds.), Flickwerk: The Aesthetics of Mended Japanese Ceramics (Münster: Museum für Lackkunst 2008).

[14,17] ‘Kintsugi’, http:// www.u-ohtaki.com/kintsugi.html (accessed 31 August 2020)

During a 12 minute video interview7 about Dispatchwork in Aberdeen UK, Jan himself never mentions the infuence of Japanese ancient Kintsugi during the explanation of design thoughts. Consistent with his ofcial website, he describes how the plastic construction pieces are used to repair and fll holes in broken walls8. Despite even less correlation between Kintsugi and patchworking, the tags on social media are still added on these projects.

Relating to Manuela, it is not a coincidence that Kintsugi originated and is being practised in notoriously seismic countries, where the ground may seemingly break open at any time. In this regard, the way the Japanese express Kintsugi could be confgured elsewhere on earth9.

One example is Carlo Scarpa’s Querini Stampalia building in Venice. The golden lines, skidding door and construction details strongly exhibit the Japanese infuence of Scarpa’s design life10. Additionally, the broad openings and cracks, that allow water to come in and out following the river tide, celebrate the Kintsugi spirit of healing and celebration of destructive power. In another example titled Splitting by Gordon Matta Clark, the deliberate lines of incision into the architectural body fll up with golden rays of sunlight. This is regarded as an inverted Kintsugi.

After a study of examples and projects in the western world cited as Kintsugi in public media and websites, I have concluded there is limited evidence of the direct infuence of Kintsugi on the initial thoughts of most of these designers, such as in the projects Anahi and Dispatch works. However, examples like the Querini Stampalia building and Splitting indicate there could be an underlying infuence of Kintsugi as it relates to its cultural background and emerging ideological trends (such as that of Chan and Wabi Sabi). To further explore the philosophies behind Kintsugi and the connections to western trends in architectural restoration, this article will look into its origin and trace.

ORIGIN AND TRACE

From the far east of Asia to the western world, from past to present, Kintsugi has noticeably been transferred from an ancient technique to an artistic form. It has

provoked widespread infuence on contemporary art, and its mysterious origins and identical appearances draw the interest of the public and artists. The philosophy behind Kintsugi relates to Chan (禅) and Wabi Sabi. Chan originates from the Buddhist meditation realm in China; Wabi Sabi (侘寂) originated in Chinese Taoist philosophies that emphasized and celebrated the continuous fow of the world and its impermanence, and developed in Japan as a form of fundamental appreciation of beauty. Like Kintsugi, Wabi Sabi acknowledges time and its efect on objects. Yet, whereas Kintsugi is a process, Wabi Sabi is a concept, or a state of mind11.

The legend of Kintsugi may begin with a broken tea bowl dating back to the Song Dynasty of Ancient China. One theory is that Kintsugi may have originated when Japanese shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa sent a damaged Chinese tea bowl back to China for repair in the late 15th century. When it was returned, repaired with ugly metal staples, it may have prompted Japanese craftsmen to look for a more aesthetic means of repair1.

There is also documentation of the origin and development of Urushi repair technique that is considered to be the foundation of Kintsugi. The embellishment of the Urushi repair with precious metal - Kintsugi - was a medieval innovation that became popular in the later Edo (or modern) period. It has developed since the time of the Azuchi- Momoyama period in the late sixteenth century12. Kintsugi‘s aesthetic appeal results from its unique use of gold or silver dressing over Urushi lacquer in a way that embellishes the appearance of the original ceramic object. Its products are highly esteemed and used in culturally signifcant practices, such as the tea ceremony 13

Furthermore, the appearance of Kintsugi is not only on account of technical progress and functional demand, but is also rooted in the transition of aesthetic appreciation because of social events. Ohtaki is a selftaught Kintsugi practitioner, who noted that Kintsugi’s attractiveness derives from a “beauty of imperfection” that is grounded in the Japanese aesthetic concept of Wabi Sabi14. Its use of visible repair is a culmination of a unique shift in Japanese material culture that began with a move -

ment towards an aesthetic appreciation of broken and repaired objects during the time of tea master Sen No Rikyū (1522–1591) in the Azuchi-Momoyama period. Rikyū championed cracks and damage as expressions of a dynamic life, even to the extent when function was impaired15. The infuence was known to come from his teacher Murata Jukō, the founder of the Japanese tea ceremony. There is a specifc connection between their aesthetic sensitivities and their response to war. The time in which these two masters practised was a time of near constant militancy known as the Sengaku period (c. 1467–1603), and Jukō’s concept of using simpler, Japanesemade tea utensils was embraced, at least for practical and economic reasons, by those who had seen their precious collections of Chinese wares destroyed in war16.

The aesthetics of this period is noted for its “fascination with broken and mended objects”13. The emerging trend, which is widely known today as Wabi Sabi, has deep foundations in the current Japanese attitude towards objects and materials. This is a reaction to the prevailing aesthetics of lavishness, ornamentation, and rich materials, the art of fnding beauty in imperfection and profundity in earthiness, of revering authenticity above all.

In this era, Kintsugi, or the invention of skilled craftsmen responding to the particular social demands and artistic trends, was used not only to fx broken china and objects, but was also used to represent the unique perception that forms the fundamental Japanese appreciation of beauty.

MODERN KINTSUGI AND PATINA

While Ohtaki laments that the appreciation for used and repaired objects in Japan has been diminished since the beginning of the Showa period (1926–1989), he feels there is a recent resurgence of interest in Kintsugi, especially from young people and women in their 30s, Ohtaki has experienced increased business since demonstrating his Kintsugi-related skills on the internet17

Another indication of Kintsugi’s contemporary popularity in Japan is the online sale of do-it-yourself (DIY) Urushi-based Kintsugi repair kits (Mejiro Co. Ltd., 2016).

Kintsugi on Repairing Architecture

[15] Rumiko Handa, Sen no Rikyū and the Japanese Way of Tea: Ethics and Aesthetics of the Everyday (Lincoln: University of Nebraska 2013), pp. 229-247.

[16] Guy Keulemans, The Geo-cultural Conditions of Kintsugi, The Journal of Modern Craft, v. 9 n. 1 (2016), pp. 15-34.

Gallery MassimodeCarlo, Todd-White Art Photography, Courtesy of the artist and MASSIMODECARLO

[Image 2] Translated vase, Korean artist yeesookyung Contemporary Kintsugi Exhibition

Such a “to cherish things, repair while as long as possible use” idea that, from disposable era, in recent years, which has moved into the era in which the slow life is proposed, considered along the people of life sensation. However, not only that, but this “gold piecing” is diferent from the western style repairs that makes the broken thing as inconspicuous as possible, by emphasizing the repaired part with expensive metal “gold”. The root of the spirit of “wabi” and “rust”, which favors imperfect beauty rather than perfection, is beyond the practical use of “restoration” and even one form of Japanese culture.14

Following the Japanese cultural trend, global interest in Kintsugi is evidenced by exhibitionsImage2, art practices, and kits for commercial sale. The signifcance of Kintsugi for contemporary and experimental designers extends beyond emulation of its visual or material features, and lies in an understanding of Kintsugi as a practice embedded in cultural and ecological conditions16. Kintsugi and Wabi Sabi, the philosophy behind it, spread in the western world and resonates with western architectural restoration theory, respecting the patina18 and the strategies of honest repair and intervention19. Fundamentally, the two philosophies share similarities in that they focus on appreciating the imperfection of buildings or objects, respecting the marks brought by passing time. Although not expressly sharing origins, Eastern and western conservation philosophies practically yield equivalent approaches in intervention. Moreover, the universality in acceptance of western patina and Eastern Wabi-Sabi, and Eastern Kintsugi and western legible fabric repair, convey overt signals of philosophies beyond technical performance11.

On the face of it, the enthusiasm of Japanese art and culture in recent years may have contributed to the popularity of Kintsugi as a representative art inspiration in the western world. Beyond projects, exhibitions and increasing tags on design websites, there are more and more discussions by educators in academia. Kintsugi has been brought from niche to popular as a concept in art work creation, and has received more attention on social media in return. However, rather than attribute its success only to the recent trends of Japanese and Asian cultural infuences, it is more convincing that Kintsugi, and its

cautious appreciation of imperfect beauty, have ft into the mainstream of aesthetic ideas on the account of the patina-philosophy that has already gradually impacted the public appreciation of old objects and ancient buildings.

CONCLUSION

Kintsugi, an ancient restoration technique of ceramic objects, developed through time as an art medium and architectural design technique to represent the appreciation of imperfect beauty on global design media platforms. Some architectural works, published on websites, directly represent this by using similar techniques, like fxing ceramic tiles to create a kind of graphic representation style (like Anahi restaurant). Some are more metaphorical and can be traced back to the original philosophy of Chan and Wabi Sabi. Kintsugi inspirations on architectural design and interior design exist. However, projects shared globally in social media and websites which cite Kintsugi can actually have very little relation to Kintsugi itself, but represent the similar philosophy behind it (such as that of Chan and Wabi Sabi). The popularity of Kintsugi as a design concept in western academia and social media platforms conveys a transition of aesthetic attitudes about old objects and buildings in recent years. The appreciation of imperfection, which is rooted in the theory of western patina and Japanese Wabi Sabi, is the foundation of the modern design thinking behind a modern revival in renewing broken objects, historic urban fabric, and heritage buildings.

[18] Patina; An aged appearance caused by environmental factors, either acquired naturally or artifcially induced. In architecture conservation context, usually refer to the trace on the building materials that indicate passing time.

[19] Cesare Brandi, Teoria del restauro (Rome: Ed. di Storia e Letteratura 1963).

The Ethereal Thames

The following is a physical site model I built as part of my work at the Londonbased design frm, Alexandra Steed URBAN. The initial concept was generated by Alexandra Steed, and inspired by artist Tara Donovan’s work Haze, 2003. The idea is to appreciate the origin and catalyst of London’s civilization - the River Thameswhile furthering public awareness of climate change and sea level rise.

This is a 600x1800mm model following the path of the River Thames, representing the topography of London at 1:25000 scale. Primarily constructed with drinking straws, the model is illuminated by LED lights below the River Thames.

[Image 1, left] From above the very east end of Greater London, Rainham. The heights of the straws have been slightly exaggerated to highlight the topography.

[Image 2, right] A closeup of the Royal Docks area at the up-front, with the meanders around Greenwich & Isle of Dogs further away.

Images by the author

Lei Jiao

[Images 3, 4 & 5] Three plan views showing the river formation.

Images by the author

The Role of Streets and Citizens

In the light of Lahore, Pakistan

The

explores the role of citizens and streets in defning the quality of communal living in an urban setting and the facts that afect, make or improve the social and cultural living of a society. This exploration is achieved by comparing three diferent residential urban streetscapes within the city of Lahore.

INTRODUCTION

Who owns the city? And on what basic factors is this ownership dependent? There are two essential types of physical ownership involved in building up a society or living in any system i.e. ownership of a house and ownership of an area or mohallah1 that leads to owning the city, district and country. The ownership of a house consists of the frst fundamental rule i.e. fnancially owning it, either temporarily or permanently, rental or property passed on through family. Then the second step is when the house turns into a home by physically living there or spending some time of your life that you associate yourself emotionally to in that very place. This second phenomenon of “emotional association” is basically the very foundation of the ownership of a city which is dependent on three basic factors of building a society

a) safety

b) contact and

c) assimilation of children2

Lahore, once a city guarded by walls, has always been planned and lived-in in a way that provided neighborhood living.

The organic growth and the winding narrow streets with squares every now and then of the old Walled City is a true example of this neighborhood living. Later the modern new communities, built around a small central park, were designed to increase the ever interaction of communal living and increase the sense of security, but over the years, this communal living has decreased. This shift in living has drastically changed our perception of Lahore.

Urban fabric, streets

Lahore, now a progressive metropolitan city, is a promising vision. We look at this city as a hub of economic growth, a city where everyone comes with dreams of “big-city life”, life that will allow us to make a good living for our families, a city that would provide a home for wife and children, a good school, a good neighborhood. But do we mean a good neighborhood where no one pays heed to what is happening next door, or a neighborhood where the children and housewives fnd friends and comfort? A neighborhood with a sense of communal security and safety or a house that requires guards, cameras and security bars running around the walls?

Neha Fatima

[1] Mohallah is an Urdu language word meaning immediate neighborhood, it refers to a very close communal living.

[2] Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities (New York: Vintage Books, 1961).

essay

[Image 1] Map of old/ ancient Walled City of Lahore with boundary marked in red dotted line

All these questions are merely facts derived from literature, storytelling, narrative and observations from my own childhood. The childhood that I lived in Gulberg3 included us children of the neighborhood playing from asr to maghrib. Maghrib, the time of sun dusk, was a curfew time for every child to return home. We would spend all this day-time playing, walking around the fence of the park, or catching tadpoles from the little pond created around the tap of the park, ringing bells of each other´s house and if nothing else idly laying down on grass and telling each other chronicles of our great grandparents. This communal living that was yet restricted to only the limits of streets or the park in front of the house has now been reduced meticulously. The interaction among children has narrowed down to only a few play dates at home or outdoors planned by parents with greater politics in mind than their children’s own beneft. It is reduced to its own circle, with the hierarchy of class and creed that leads to isolation and formation of social introvert groups.

I once happened to fnd a picture of Lahore from the 1930s in which I saw a woman chaining her bicycle at Kinnaird College and I would like to imagine the liberty, trust, confdence of that era in its society to allow such independence. We may call our society a progressive modern now because of technology and facilities but we must ponder on this concept for a second: What does progressive society really mean? Does that mean efcient vehicular roads? Does that mean better road networks for the mobility of private cars around the city? Underpass, overhead bridge and the like? Or is a progressive society a society that trusts and relies on public facilities that allow people to walk and talk?

We can blame technology to be overwhelming and distracting but the truth is, it is our own eforts of making a society strong because we are unable to trust and be trusted. The continuous sprawl of parasitic metropolitan cities of Pakistan like Lahore not only disillusions the perception of utopian living but eats away the natural environment for humans to have a healthy living. This absence of natural environment plus the longer commute and trafc has tended to abstain a neighborhood from communal living. The cricket matches that

we once played every night out on the street have shifted to cricket courts that require planning, fnances and professionalism.

CASE STUDY

The transitional urban space like streets defnes the quality of life of not only of those blocks but in fact of the city. Streets not only defne the paradigm of the neighborhood but make or break the communal living. Streets are one step ahead of ownership, from owning a house to owning your city.

The streets or blocks in focus to comprehend the sense of community and limitations because of vehicular trafc in Lahore are selected as follows:

A) Street 6, BB Block, Phase 4, Defense Housing Authority

B) Chaudhry Muhammad Yusuf Road, Gulberg III

C) Kucha Hussain Shah, Androon Lahore near Wazir Khan Mosque

The streets selected above are diferent in context, wage group and design, however, the selection is done on the basis of similarities in urban fabric i.e. the streets are purely residential thus they share a commercial context at the intersection and an adjacent public space. Chaudhry Muhammad Yusuf Road and Street 6 BB Block DHA both have public parks at the cross section of the streets and a commercial shop i.e. dhaba or small-scale sector market whereas Kucha Hussain Shah shares the similar context of a commercial shop at the intersection and a small square on the other end. The following sketches explain the criteria of selection and the urban fabric of these streets.

[3] Gulberg is a city central area in Lahore known for good connections around the city, a close communal residential sector and one of the busiest public spaces in the city.

[Image 2] Location of selected streets on the map of Lahore

Street 6, BB Block, DHA

The location of the selected street is near to one of the main roads cutting through Defence Housing Authority i.e. it is highly accessible with a central public park at one cross-section, a sector mosque and a primary school on the other cross-section.

Chaudhry Muhammad Yusuf Road, Gulberg III

The location of this selected street is adjacent to a main road leading to Ghalib Market area and it is near to the signifcant Hussain Chowk in Gulberg. This street has the context of a public park at one crosssection and a small tuck shop (parchoon dukaan) on the opposite cross-section.

[Image 3] Location of street marked on the plan along with the reference of the main road and hotspots of the city

[Image 4] Street and the main arteries marked along with the public park, school and commercial area

[Image 6] Location of street marked on the plan along with the reference of the main road and hotspots of the city

[Image 7] Street and the main arteries marked along the public park and commercial area

The “Cañada“

Introduction to an informal urban settlement on European grounds

Once a thriving transhumance the Cañada Real Galiana in the outskirts of Madrid accounts as one of Europe’s largest illegal settlements today. The original cattle drive has increasingly been built on from both sides towards the middle of the path since the nineteen sixties thus evolving into a unique informally grown urban environment.1

INTRODUCTION

thesis in 2017.

[2] ‘Showdown Looms Over Europe’s Largest Shanty Town‘, www.npr.org (accessed 17 April 2012)

[3] ‘Drug clans take control in shanty town where Madrid’s politicians fear to tread‘, www.theguardian. com (accessed 16 November 2009)

This essay sets out to explore informal settlement processes in Europe by the example of the Cañada, an urbanisation located in the outskirts of Spain’s capital city, Madrid. The Cañada is one of Europe’s last large-scale, permanent, informally grown settlements. As a remnant of multicultural historic urbanisation patterns adapted to the 20th and early 21st century context, it has been subsequently built up and transformed since the 1970s - for a long time a designated blind spot in the government authorities’ feld of vision. As recently as 2016, Madrid’s government ofcially recognised the informal settlement and thus enforced a plan to incorporate the uncontrolled and illegal growth into the city’s formal system. At this historical turning point, it is crucial to closely examine the evolution of the Cañada, an extraordinary urban environment which has evolved over the past 50 years.

Characterised by articles like “Showdown Looms Over Europe’s Largest Shanty Town“2, or “Drug clans take control in shanty town where Madrid’s politicians fear to tread“3, the long ribbon-like settlement has come to be stigmatised as one of Europe’s most disordered, messiest urban entities. It is the aim of this work to approach the issue

of informal housing in Europe from an architectural and analytical angle, in order to understand the circumstances leading to a specifc informally built urban fabric. As part of a wider research scope, this essay serves as an introduction to the Cañada. It will mainly focus on the description and a brief analysis of built entities encountered within the elongated village.

Spanish sociologists and social workers, as well as occasional researchers from other European countries have recently become more engaged in the settlement and its inhabitants. While most publications concentrate on the socio-economic side of the phenomenon, very few projects have dealt with its built form so far. At this time, architectural work concerning the Cañada ranges from urban regeneration schemes to landscape design, infrastructural suggestions and attempts at poverty reduction. However, this essay focuses on the uniqueness of the Cañada’s originally grown built form and its exceptional status in contemporary European urban building history. The focus of this paper is not on suggestions of alteration or problem-solving; in a historical-architectural sense, the settlement cannot simply be considered a problem, but should be regarded as a revealing and refreshing case study.

Sophie Schrattenecker

[1] The starting point for this essay was research conducted in the course of my master

[Image 1] Collage of aerial pictures, sector 2 of the Cañada, original images by google maps (accessed 01.03.2020)

[4] Consejería de Transportes, Vivienda e Infrastructura“, an institution installed by the Spanish government in 2016 for the settlement’s incorporation into the legal system

[5] In 1273 the Spanish king Alfonso X, also called Alfonso the Wise, passed an edict for the regulation of the cattle drives in the whole country. The cattle trails had been referred to as “Cañadas” until then and at that point received the surname “Reales” (“royal“)

[6] The Cañada Real Galiana was originally 90 cubits wide

[7] Comparison of satellite records since 1970, Consejería del Medio Ambiente y Ordenación del Territorio

[8] Span. cañada: “reed bed“/“reeds“, span. “caña“: measure unit double-cubit

[9] 7015 people, data according to Ricardo Vincent Fernández de Heredia, Secretario General, Comisionado al Gobierno de la Comunidad de Madrid para la Cañada Real, 20.01.2017

[10] Vagrant Romani people

[11] Gobierno de la Comunidad de Madrid para

Research material for this essay consists of continuous studies of the Cañada’s environment since 2015. Site visits, combined with detailed analysis of aerial photographs, form the centerpiece of this work. Historical aerial pictures since 1975, as well as statistics and surveys provided by the consulate for the Cañada Real in Madrid4, further illustrate the issue. As outlined before, this essay will focus on the built form of the Cañada rather than its socio-economic components. In order to identify settlement characteristics, a comparison between historical examples of settlement structures is one of the methods applied. Furthermore, analytical drawings help in bringing out information which would otherwise remain undiscovered in the diverse, over fowing landscape of the informally built form.

THE CAÑADA

Once a thriving transhumance, the Cañada Real Galiana5 in the outskirts of Madrid has transformed in appearance. The historic cattle drive of approximately 70 metres6 width has increasingly been built on from both sides towards the middle of the path since the 1960’s7. Starting from San Fernando de Henares, a town located in the outskirts of Madrid, the ribbon of illegal buildings stretching linearly in a southern direction as far as the Río Manzanares ofers an amazing sight: frst multi-storey town houses, then holiday homes, residential buildings, caravans and industrial plants of diferent development typologies follow one another closely. The ”Cañada”8 is a short term used colloquially for the entire diverse settlement, comprised of a 7000 person population9 which in turn belongs to several ethnical and cultural groups. Apart from Spaniards, mostly Gitanos, Gitanas10, migrants from the Maghreb, and other minority groups live in the illegal settlement of the Cañada Real.11

last decades. After all, the historical cattle drive is state property which no private landowner could claim legally from the informal settlers and there is also an administrative grey zone on the periphery of three converging administrative districts. The favourable location of the Cañada Real Galiana, which is clustering close to Madrid with an overall length of 13 kilometres, can be seen as a further advantageous factor for the settlement density of the illegal development along this section of the cattle drive. Where public authorities have turned a blind eye since the 1970s, the biggest illegal settlement in Europe has thus developed without oversight or restriction into a unique urban structure translating the residents’ nature into a direct, spontaneous architecture. From this perspective, this informal urban experiment - and one of the last slum areas of Europe - serves as a unique case study on a continent where the accidental, unpredictable moment in architecture has been otherwise banished into history books.

TRAVELLING THROUGH THE CAÑADA’S 6 SECTORS

A drive through the Cañada’s six sectors (as a part of my feld research carried out in 2017) provided great insight into the dual spatial and social dynamics of the ribbon-like village. The following passages are extracts from my notes on observations and experiences from that journey:

[Image 2] Plan of the Cañada with designated sectors and description, based on data from the Consejería de Transporte, Vivienda e Infrastructura in Madrid and google maps aerial images accessed in 2016/2017

Image by the author (2016/2017)

Since its ofcial recognition, authorities have subdivided the extending settlement Cañada Real Galiana into six sectors. As the linear structure of this colony is situated in the border area of the capital Madrid and its suburban towns Coslada and RivasVaciamadrid, it crosses three administrative areas. This fact, as well as a 12th century law which mandates the width of 90 ells of cattle drives clear of any other use than transhumance, may have contributed to intense illegal building activity within the

Sector 1. After arriving in San Fernando de Henares, we stop between blocks of fats of this suburb of Madrid while looking for the entry to the Cañada. We fnally fnd its main road by walking through a very small alley, the width of which is equivalent to the length of my lower arm. At this point the trafc is still regulated, the streetscape clear and organised. The road of the Cañada leading out of town is lined with one-storey and two-storey buildings on both sides, evoking an image of colonial towns in other parts of the world. The houses huddle tightly packed here with their entrances close together and are oriented towards the main road. There are clotheslines on the recessed balconies and curtains preventing a glance into the interior of the single houses. Further down the road we discover little walled front gardens and backyards.

The northernmost point of the settlement‘s parcelling by the Department of the Environment in 2016

km 0,6 Clearway overpass of the M-45, underpass of the Cañada

below the Cañada due to the motorway

of

Road junction with the M-B23

Underpass

R-3, above roundabout

the M-203 km 5,1

km 3,1

km 2,4 km 8,6 km 13,1

Overpass due to the motorway interchange A-3 and M-50, underpass of the Cañada

End of the parcelled development area along the Cañada

Multiple road junctions, underpass of the Cañada due to the underground line 9

There are a few unpaved paths leading behind these developments into a vast feld covered with dry grass. Single vegetable patches and tool sheds directly adjoin the densely developed interior of the Cañada.

Sector 2. Leaving the frst sector, we also leave San Fernando de Henares behind us. The unsurfaced road is muddy and full of giant puddles. On a short patch of the road we pass under a motorway bridge. Here the development becomes less dense, urban houses turn into suburban detached houses surrounded by walls. On the right side of the road there is a DHL delivery van. Since the houses here are illegal, they do not have ofcial post addresses. Nevertheless, most of them have an elaborate ornamented house number plaque. We also pass a refuse collection vehicle of the suburb Coslada. Since there is no pavement or bufer zone between the garden walls and the road, the metal dust bins are actually placed in the middle of the road. We get out of the car at one of the rare road junctions. The little dead end road on our right functions as an access road for several houses. Here the rising topography limits the terrain. There is an amazing view of the narrow, built-up ribbon nestling into the landscape from north to south.

Sector 3. We continue our car ride in frst gear. Nothing of the development we are passing is predictable. Puddles are lining the road and gradually getting deeper the further south we are moving. Suddenly, one of the puddles extends to both sides of the road on an extremely narrow spot. An of-road vehicle would be rather convenient at that moment. A battered dark green car approaches us slowly from the opposite side of the mud hole. The driver and her two children on the back seats seem to be relaxed and a bit amused about our perplexity. The woman drives without the slightest hesitation and a rumbling noise over the rim of the ditch. The rear end of her car is tilted dangerously while water is splashing from both sides of the car. She steers her vehicle to the opposite side of the giant puddle, waves to us, and disappears with a rattling engine into the jungle of illegal development.

Sector 4. Our next stop is at an unsurfaced car park at the crossroads of the M-B23, a clear road functioning as direct connection to the capital. Opposite the road, sector 4 of the Cañada begins. A group of Gitanos cast glances from some distance across the road into our direction and seem to be caught up in an agitated discussion. Taking out

[Image 3] Sector 1, photograph from a drive through the Cañada Image by the author (2017)

Environments During Lockdown

While writing this journal in 2020, our contributors experienced diferent states of Lockdown due to the Covid-19 pandemic around the world. The following section highlights encounters with their changed environments during the past year.

05 December Friendship Avenue Sidewalk, Pittsburgh, PA, USA

“Working from home for most of 2020, I found myself taking daily morning walks around my neighborhood, to stretch the legs after spending most of my time inside. While my walking routes tend to feel repetitive, I often come across small changes or little details I had missed before. One such moment was this little hand, pasted on the concrete sidewalk, which immediately brought me back to Ben Wilson’s chewing gum art on London’s Millennium Bridge.“

Cassandra Osterman

15 August Bregenzerwald, Vorarlberg, Austria

“During the turbulences of the corona crisis people increasingly search for refuge in naturally steady places, such as these Alpine mountains. Far from the hustle and bustle of big cities they are suddenly faced with an uncanny silence amidst the massif of the Alps.”

Sophie Schrattenecker

12 September Lisle St, SOHO, London, Great Britain

“A man wearing a mask was hanging up lanterns in London Chinatown after lockdown to attract people for eating and shopping outside. People were celebrating and breathing the short term freedom air and did not realise the ‘winter ‘was coming.”

Longhua Gu

Streets - usually crowded - are now empty, shops and restaurants are closed, some of them have been for months now. While I was walking these empty streets, it dawned upon me how utterly important a well-working eco-system of commercial enterprises is for a city and its urban quality. But also, how far reaching this epidemic is: While local shops are closed, online shopping is booming. How does it change the way we consume? What about all the jobs related to local business? Will these efects last?

Stefan Gruber

“Around the world, due to the covid19, cultural activities have been quickly relegated to the label “not necessary”. The closure of theatres, cinemas, and museums has been announced as inevitable. As proof, this photo represents the emptiness of a Sunday evening at the Louvre, usually full of people on their way to the museum. What is the sense of these spaces? Wouldn’t they be essential in keeping our spirit alive especially in this moment of tragedy?“

Fanny Ciufo

“The past year has afected my inner-self. I look back at myself and I look at my shadow now, I fnd multiple personalities under one shoe and I am sure it is not only me but all of us fnding ourselves in a dilemma.”

Neha Fatima

“Glory & Hope: Oxford Street, the beloved London destination, has indeed been delivering love to the travellers all along. No matter bloom or fall, Christmas or lockdown.”

(Photomontage, 2018 Christmas vs 2020 summer under lockdown)

Lei Jiao

08 November Louvre Museum, Paris, France

09 November Kalam Valley, Swat, Pakistan

06 November Landstrasse, Linz, Austria

Urbanogram: Recording and Responding Cities

Urbanogram: Journal of the Built Environment

Recording and Responding Cities Issue 2021

Editorial board:

Cassandra Osterman

Fanny Ciufo

Lei Jiao

Longhua Gu

Neha Fatima

Sophie Schrattenecker

Stefan Gruber

Xin Zheng

Initial concept:

Neha Fatima

Text editing:

Anita Schrattenecker

Cassandra Osterman

Initial layout design:

Sophie Schrattenecker

Stefan Gruber

Xin Zheng

Graphical editing:

Sophie Schrattenecker

Stefan Gruber

Cover page:

Fanny Ciufo

Sophie Schrattenecker

Stefan Gruber

Logo:

Fanny Ciufo

Marketing:

Fanny Ciufo

Lei Jiao

Longhua Gu

Neha Fatima

Xin Zheng

Further information:

Instagram: urbanogramjournal

Wechat: URBANOGRAM

Issuu: issuu.com/urbanogram

Contact: urbanogram-journal@outlook.com

URBANOGRAM

This edition frst published in 2021

Copyright © 2021 by the authors

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise except permitted otherwise by the publishers and / or authors.

Urbanogram: Journal of the Built Environment is an independent journal initiated by graduates of The Bartlett School of Architecture.

We endeavour to ensure all information is correct at the time of publication.

Urbanogram:

Journal of the Built Environment

Recording & Responding Cities

Issue 2021