Karl Chu argues a shift in the future from "morphodynamic" architectures to "morphogenetic" architectures. Rather than architectures, both concrete and virtual, being developed solely as results of external forces, genetic architectures have their own internal information and ordering logics. As in the genetics of life, the genetics of architecture have the ability to change and evolve over time.
"The process of genetic recursion has an autonomous, internal logic, which resists semiological regimes of meaning that refer to ready-made typologies." Not being based on existing referents suggests that possibilities go beyond that which is currently imaginable. One frustrating thing about Karl Chu's arguments is the lack of projects that illustrate his theories. Perhaps it is true that the only meaningful products of genetic architecture are those that may only come to pass after a long period of time, but superficially, Chu appears long of wind and short of content.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
10. Sylvia Lavin - "How Architecture Stopped Being the 97-Pound Weakling and Became Cool"
In this article, Sylvia Lavin attempts to construct a polemic understanding of "coolness" in recent architecture. The effect of coolness is to be perceived. The cause of coolness is somewhat mysterious and perhaps arbitrary. According to Lavin, Elvis Costello owes [at least some portion of] his coolness to his glasses. This doesn't mean in any way that glasses will make someone else cool.
The obvious criticism seems to be that "cool" is very subjective. And Lavin's lack of acknowledgment to that fact betrays her as a social elitist. This calls her entire argument into question. Architects and academics who may have thought themselves cool prior to this vaguely delineated contemporary era of "coolness" will surely take exception.
The obvious criticism seems to be that "cool" is very subjective. And Lavin's lack of acknowledgment to that fact betrays her as a social elitist. This calls her entire argument into question. Architects and academics who may have thought themselves cool prior to this vaguely delineated contemporary era of "coolness" will surely take exception.
09. R.E. Somol's "12 Reasons to Get Back into Shape"
In this piece, R. E. Somol argues for a philosophy of "shape" in architecture. Shape is a term that is related to "form" and "mass", but distinct from them in critically important ways. Through twelve key words, a philosophy of shape is crudely constructed from the ways it differs from existing and traditional architectural philosophy. Broadly speaking, it embraces a sort of contemporary cynicism towards the obscure logics and meanings that have long been the rigor of architectural composition. An ambivalence towards forces and materiality gives way to a "cooled down" architecture; unburdened and able to freely generate itself through the 'painterly touch'. Somol's use of the word "cool" seems like it could support Sylvia Lavin's theory of coolness, in that coolness in architecture has something to do with a lack of need for justification; "shape requires no special pleadings, it simply exists."
08. "Observations on SANAA's Newest Thing" by Aleksandr Bierig
Bierig writes a critical review of SANAA's Derek Lam store in Manhattan. The space's minimalist palette of poured concrete floors and curving transparent walls is more than reminiscent of their Glass Pavilion project in Toledo, Ohio. As Bierig puts it, the effect is that of a "low-rent version of Toledo". Rather than glass, the walls are acrylic and require "ungainly metal braces", and are spaced closer together. This seems to point out a basic flaw in SANAA's minimalist philosophy; that the quality of the minimalist execution is heavily contingent on budget.
Bierig also finds the interior disorienting, to the project's detriment. The Glass Pavilion, with ample scale and well delineated spaces, manages a basic clarity that isn't available at the Lam store.
Bierig also finds the interior disorienting, to the project's detriment. The Glass Pavilion, with ample scale and well delineated spaces, manages a basic clarity that isn't available at the Lam store.
07. Sam Jacob's "Zaha Hadid - In Remembrance"
From the New City Reader's tongue-in-cheek "Obituaries" spread, Sam Jacob looks at Zaha Hadid in a sort of faux-retrospective of her work. While her buildings are ostensibly these great monuments to capitalism, he speculates that perhaps her architecture is ultimately a critique about capitalism and the society that embraces it. The instinct to embrace her sculptural and fantastical forms, along with anything in it, as "capital-A Art" has (or should have) exposed the nature of contemporary culture as being blindly lead by global capitalism, which itself is ultimately hollow.
06. Jorge Silvetti: "The Muses are Not Amused"
This article, taken from a lecture given by Jorge Silvetti at Harvard in 2002, criticizes contemporary academic architecture at that time around four themes, which he calls Programism, Thematization, Blobs, and Literalism. Having read this in 2011, I found it interesting how basically applicable each one was to my own sense of academic architecture, which only began developing in 2004 or so upon my own introduction to it in undergrad. Programism, the direct translation of graphical information to architectural form (to over-simplify, perhaps), exhibits a lack of criticality which would make such information relevant. Thematization, the architect's total imposition over a project's environment, seems like a denial of reality or perhaps an exercise of megalomania on the part of the designer. Either way, it challenges any sort of cultural relevance. Blobs, which deny culture in a sense, and Literalism, which involves forms that are based on words that seem to evoke physical conditions, are also prevalent in academia to this day.
Silvetti's analysis of these themes provides a good basis for critiquing student work. He is definitely of an older generation and his philosophies may be somewhat incongruous with some of the other academics and theorists we've talked about. Lavin and Somol, amongst others, certainly downplay the importance of formal criticality, for instance.
Silvetti's analysis of these themes provides a good basis for critiquing student work. He is definitely of an older generation and his philosophies may be somewhat incongruous with some of the other academics and theorists we've talked about. Lavin and Somol, amongst others, certainly downplay the importance of formal criticality, for instance.
05. Daniel Zalewski's "Show the Monster"
This piece is a profile of director Guillermo del Toro written for The New Yorker. A comprehensive look at the director's life and career reveals a troubled eccentric whose become a contemporary master of dark and imaginative imagery. He has special insight into the sensibilities of "fan-boys" everywhere, as he is one himself. His own residence, named "Bleak House", is a museum of the fantastical. His professional frustrations, such as being taken off of "the Hobbit" after years of painstaking work, is matched with personal trials; his struggle with his weight for instance.
The piece concludes on an optimistic note. The development for a new film "Madness" is underway and driving del Toro's creative energy. An adaption of an old H. P. Lovecraft story, Madness will feature unique and daring new monsters, landscapes, and architectures.
The piece concludes on an optimistic note. The development for a new film "Madness" is underway and driving del Toro's creative energy. An adaption of an old H. P. Lovecraft story, Madness will feature unique and daring new monsters, landscapes, and architectures.
04. Philip Noble's "I [Heart] IIT.. But I Still Don't like Rem"
Noble, an architecture critic from Metropolis Magazine, tries to reconcile his love for Rem Koolhaas's student center at IIT in Chicago with the various things that he doesn't like about Koolhaas himself. The critic admits being ready to dislike the project as he approached with thoughts of contempt for the architect. From his petty pretentiousness with his IIT clients - to his tyranny over his employees - to his cheap tipping at MoMa's cafe - to his somewhat hypocritical attitude toward formalism, Koolhaas is a villain in Noble's mind. All of this is forgotten when Noble walks inside the student center...
Noble's emotions are easily understandable in contemporary architecture. Starpower in architecture doesn't seem to make way for altruism, or vice-versa. Indeed, some of the most thrilling architectural experiences are to be found in bastions of capitalist power. Star-architects, with maybe a couple exceptions (H&dM, for one), seem to rely on large staffs of overworked, underpaid employees. If one is to dwell on it, one can almost construct an ethical dilemma as to whether or not he or she ought to "like" a particular building.
Noble's emotions are easily understandable in contemporary architecture. Starpower in architecture doesn't seem to make way for altruism, or vice-versa. Indeed, some of the most thrilling architectural experiences are to be found in bastions of capitalist power. Star-architects, with maybe a couple exceptions (H&dM, for one), seem to rely on large staffs of overworked, underpaid employees. If one is to dwell on it, one can almost construct an ethical dilemma as to whether or not he or she ought to "like" a particular building.
03. Jason Payne's "Hair and Makeup"
Jason Payne studies past trends in rock and roll regarding the use of the superficial that parallel recent trends in architecture. A gradual shift
from the 'hardcore' to the 'softcore'; in rock, the guitar technique of
Jimi Hendrix gives way to the glamour of David Bowie; in the 80s, British
heavy metal gives way to hair centric L.A. pop metal, etc; in
architecture, the sort of formal rigor exemplified by the New York Five is
worn down over time. "terms like process, technique, iterative,
generative, and so on - now give way to a decidedly friendlier bunch:
mood, atmosphere, sensibility, color, sensation, feel..."
It would seem that moments of intellectual intensity are doomed
(destined?) to eventually give way to the superficial, and that what is
sensory is ultimately what is important in a movement. Perhaps it is a
balancing act. When softcore becomes too soft (insubstantial,
unmeaningful.. irrelevant?) a new hardcore, a new school of rigor arises,
and the movements are actually cyclical.
from the 'hardcore' to the 'softcore'; in rock, the guitar technique of
Jimi Hendrix gives way to the glamour of David Bowie; in the 80s, British
heavy metal gives way to hair centric L.A. pop metal, etc; in
architecture, the sort of formal rigor exemplified by the New York Five is
worn down over time. "terms like process, technique, iterative,
generative, and so on - now give way to a decidedly friendlier bunch:
mood, atmosphere, sensibility, color, sensation, feel..."
It would seem that moments of intellectual intensity are doomed
(destined?) to eventually give way to the superficial, and that what is
sensory is ultimately what is important in a movement. Perhaps it is a
balancing act. When softcore becomes too soft (insubstantial,
unmeaningful.. irrelevant?) a new hardcore, a new school of rigor arises,
and the movements are actually cyclical.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
02. A thought related to David Ruy's "Molecular Gastronomy"
In his comparison between so called "molecular gastronomists" and "digital architects", David Ruy reveals a misunderstanding prevalent within the broader fields of both food and architecture.
As molecular gastronomy gets criticized for being "too exclusive and elitist" and for ignoring "far more urgent problems regarding hunger and sustainable agriculture", as well as not being "respectful of cultural heritage", there seems to be a desire to levy upon chefs of contemporary haute cuisine this pre-conceived set of social responsibilities. Professional architects have been subject to similar social responsibilities to some degree as long as they've existed, and are often considered controversial if they openly shirk these responsibilities.
It seems that such controversies in both fields are due to a lack of distinction made between the haute and the basse; the high and the low. Perhaps this something that the egalitarian segments of modernism, or other proceeding movements, have removed from conversation. The average lay person, say, in the United States, is likely to scoff at this notion - "So you are too good for your social responsibilities?", they might say. But my argument is more about observing an existing division of labor; there are architects whose work serves the discourse of building construction, of institutions, of sociology, etc., and there are architects who design grand, magnificent constructions to serve, primarily, individuals with wealth and power. [edit note: I soon realize that the concept of "low" is something else entirely, more on that later.]
I would imagine professionals of the culinary arts are finding themselves in a comparable situation; food science (which ought to be responsible), or haute cuisine (which needn't be - not to the same degree anyway)?
The important thing to understand is that the two are basically different in their purposes. Perhaps the first may be thought as more of an scientist (engineer might be a closer word, but it is loaded in ways I don't intend), and the second is more of an artist. The "scientist" type is concerned with developing functional systems, whereas the "artist" type is concerned with crafting new sensory experiences. Is being an artist-architect (or artist-chef) less legitimate than being a scientist-architect (or scientist-chef)? Perhaps, if social responsibility is perceived to be important, or if one insists that serving many is inherently better than serving few, which are both certainly sensible.
After reflecting on it, I realize that I have made an error. The traditional understanding of the 'low' refers not to the scientists (obvious when those words are assembled together). 'Low' really refers to the vulgar, i.e. the lay, the pragmatists who fulfill basic needs of food preparation and building design for the masses. So, there are actually three classes of professional to be considered.
As molecular gastronomy gets criticized for being "too exclusive and elitist" and for ignoring "far more urgent problems regarding hunger and sustainable agriculture", as well as not being "respectful of cultural heritage", there seems to be a desire to levy upon chefs of contemporary haute cuisine this pre-conceived set of social responsibilities. Professional architects have been subject to similar social responsibilities to some degree as long as they've existed, and are often considered controversial if they openly shirk these responsibilities.
It seems that such controversies in both fields are due to a lack of distinction made between the haute and the basse; the high and the low. Perhaps this something that the egalitarian segments of modernism, or other proceeding movements, have removed from conversation. The average lay person, say, in the United States, is likely to scoff at this notion - "So you are too good for your social responsibilities?", they might say. But my argument is more about observing an existing division of labor; there are architects whose work serves the discourse of building construction, of institutions, of sociology, etc., and there are architects who design grand, magnificent constructions to serve, primarily, individuals with wealth and power. [edit note: I soon realize that the concept of "low" is something else entirely, more on that later.]
I would imagine professionals of the culinary arts are finding themselves in a comparable situation; food science (which ought to be responsible), or haute cuisine (which needn't be - not to the same degree anyway)?
The important thing to understand is that the two are basically different in their purposes. Perhaps the first may be thought as more of an scientist (engineer might be a closer word, but it is loaded in ways I don't intend), and the second is more of an artist. The "scientist" type is concerned with developing functional systems, whereas the "artist" type is concerned with crafting new sensory experiences. Is being an artist-architect (or artist-chef) less legitimate than being a scientist-architect (or scientist-chef)? Perhaps, if social responsibility is perceived to be important, or if one insists that serving many is inherently better than serving few, which are both certainly sensible.
After reflecting on it, I realize that I have made an error. The traditional understanding of the 'low' refers not to the scientists (obvious when those words are assembled together). 'Low' really refers to the vulgar, i.e. the lay, the pragmatists who fulfill basic needs of food preparation and building design for the masses. So, there are actually three classes of professional to be considered.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
01. A Couple Thoughts on "Showing Work"
In her article from Log 20, entitled "Showing Work", Sylvia Lavin analyzes changing attitudes about what constitutes the body of work produced by an architect.
[In describing the rise of contemporary attitudes,] "The 'work' of an architect could take many forms, not just the conventional ones of drawings, models and buildings, but also books, installations, institution building, etc."
Venturi built buildings, but most consider his written work to be more important. Other architects have since been able to build reputations as writers and theorists beyond their built work. I think Rem Koolhaus is an obvious example, with books like Delirious New York, S, M, L, XL, and others, along with his (and Bouman's and Wigley's) quarterly periodical “Volume Magazine”, and other things (such as an extensive body of world-class built work). One does not have to Rem Koolhaus of course, but perhaps architects feel the need to expand of the scope of their authorship as a way of compensating for the general decline of the architect as the heroic “master builder”.
As a side note, I find it a little interesting that Ms. Lavin used Venturi so extensively as an example and did not mention Denise Scott Brown, who many argue deserves an equal share of credit as Venturi's long time collaborator for their large body of written and built work. The omission of Scott Brown's name in discussions about their work is a gripe that one occasionally hears from contemporary academics. There seems to be something awfully convenient, or perhaps even satisfying, about simply referring to them as “Venturi”, but I digress.
"On the other hand, the field - now filled with many things vying for status of the architectural work - became newly competitive and rife with petty resentments: the 'work' of the historians, critics, and theorists as 'work' but was not always recognized as such by the broader public nor architects, understandably reluctant to give up both status and money that come with the title of producer.”
I've heard Erik Ghenoiu, architectural historian and visiting assistant professor at the Pratt Institute, bemoan this very point. Does being an architect with built work lend you more credibility as a writer of architecture? Probably, but maybe not for rational reasons. How many architects with built work are any good at writing? Why should they be?
Lavin goes on to describe how the curation and exhibition of work of various sorts has been seen more and more as creative "work" unto itself.
[In describing the rise of contemporary attitudes,] "The 'work' of an architect could take many forms, not just the conventional ones of drawings, models and buildings, but also books, installations, institution building, etc."
Venturi built buildings, but most consider his written work to be more important. Other architects have since been able to build reputations as writers and theorists beyond their built work. I think Rem Koolhaus is an obvious example, with books like Delirious New York, S, M, L, XL, and others, along with his (and Bouman's and Wigley's) quarterly periodical “Volume Magazine”, and other things (such as an extensive body of world-class built work). One does not have to Rem Koolhaus of course, but perhaps architects feel the need to expand of the scope of their authorship as a way of compensating for the general decline of the architect as the heroic “master builder”.
As a side note, I find it a little interesting that Ms. Lavin used Venturi so extensively as an example and did not mention Denise Scott Brown, who many argue deserves an equal share of credit as Venturi's long time collaborator for their large body of written and built work. The omission of Scott Brown's name in discussions about their work is a gripe that one occasionally hears from contemporary academics. There seems to be something awfully convenient, or perhaps even satisfying, about simply referring to them as “Venturi”, but I digress.
"On the other hand, the field - now filled with many things vying for status of the architectural work - became newly competitive and rife with petty resentments: the 'work' of the historians, critics, and theorists as 'work' but was not always recognized as such by the broader public nor architects, understandably reluctant to give up both status and money that come with the title of producer.”
I've heard Erik Ghenoiu, architectural historian and visiting assistant professor at the Pratt Institute, bemoan this very point. Does being an architect with built work lend you more credibility as a writer of architecture? Probably, but maybe not for rational reasons. How many architects with built work are any good at writing? Why should they be?
Lavin goes on to describe how the curation and exhibition of work of various sorts has been seen more and more as creative "work" unto itself.
Welcome
This is a blog primarily for Nathan Hume's & Abigail Coover Hume's "Curated Consumption" class at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, NY. The title and blog design are temporary, and will probably be changed at a later date to something that's hopefully more interesting and provocative.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)