This is the kind of low road architecture that embraces the changing pace and needs of the people who live in a building. New purposes wrapping a building’s original intention. Walls made of materials a couple of people can carry and that you can cut with a saw.
A building doesn’t need to die with the purpose that built it. Let the bones and structure that hold it together show enough so that the next occupant can imagine how to work around them. Great neighborhoods grow over time. Depth and purpose layered on the successes and failures of past attempts. The first shadow of a well built and scaled building will still show up many many many iterations in the future.
It looked like these buildings had grown new organs. Their eyes hidden behind a gas mask and snorkel, cyborg but still human because they smelled like cooking meat. This row of houses in a ward of Kyoto called Higashiyama had changed into new costumes. A kind of unconscious reference to the theatrical undercurrent of that neighborhood.
Designing at a cultural institution like a science centre can be a humbling experience. We work to develop exhibits that are thoughtful, authentic, and engaging. But you can lose your way moving from initial idea to finished product. The small details that get lost might be the magic that connects someone to an exhibit or idea.
Documentation is so critical to the success of a project and every step matters. What you keep and what you drop will influence how that project lives. I’m reminded to include real visitors, doing real things as much as possible in the outdoor park project drawings.
I love drawing abstract aliens, but its easy to get sidetracked. While they prance through your imagination, real visitors stomp and run and laugh and yell. On a recent trip to Japan my husband challenged me to “draw the actual people” – what a difference it makes.
Vlad just finished finalizing the renderings for our warming hut application. This is an architecture competition for small pavilions along the river skate path in Winnipeg that happens every winter. I’ll post some of the rough sketches later, but it’s great to see the impact some though full color and texture add.
Chopping wood, felting wool, shoveling snow, skating – activities that spike your body temperature and fend off cold winter nights. This proposal explores the design potential in keeping warm.
The friction in cascading snow cements it into a solid mass and a team carves room for a hearth and seating. Strangers work together to lay down wool for cocoons big enough to be shared. These pods, felted by skaters dragging bundles along the skating path, are dried by the hearth and then hung in nooks to snugly envelop guests as they warm up.
This warming hut does what its name implies. Requiring intense activity and inputs of energy from its builders, the building emphatically keeps them warm. That work is also embedded in the materiality, form and character of the finished shelter – thereby extending the warming act beyond itself both physically and temporally.