After doing some more research and experimentation, we've decided to move the blog over to Wordpress. All of the previous posts have been switched over so you can still go back and look at those if you'd like. We're working on getting the link from the website changed, but in the meantime, head over to the new blog and check out the new format!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Mass Transit and the Restructuring of Cities
We haven’t always been a car culture. Writing from the heart of the sprawling, cancerous, Los Angeles metropolitan area, it’s a bit hard to believe. Nowadays environmentalists and urban planners alike strive to reign in the automobile and create a system based around rapid mass transportation and walkable, bike-able pathways.
What may come as a surprise to many people, however, is that at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th century, that system was already in place! In 1897, an article in the Los Angeles times proclaimed: “There is no part of the world where cycling is in greater favor than in Southern California, and nowhere on the American continent are conditions so favorable the year round for wheeling.” This was based on the 30,000 frequent riders in the LA area! In fact, the Good Roads movement, the first influential road building movement in the United States, was started not by automobile interests, but the League of American Wheelmen – a bicycle organization. One particular example of an early attempt at bike infrastructure took place in 1900, when a millionaire named Horace Dobbins nearly succeeded in constructing a bicycle path on an “elevated, multilane, wooden structure” with scenic views that would stretch from Los Angeles to Pasadena.
Today, cars are a burden more enormous than most people even come close to imagining. Roads themselves constitute one of the largest investments of Federal dollars in US history. They have transformed the human landscape and our relationship both to the land and each other in far-reaching and omnipresent ways. But they also have more insidious consequences that most of us don’t think about. The ratio of parking area to total land in Los Angeles is 81%. That means for every office building, grocery store, or school, there are four parking lots of equal size. This seeming overabundance of parking occurs because “conservative estimates identify an average of four parking spots per vehicle” in LA. There are 3.8 million people living in Los Angeles proper – if even 1/2 of them have cars (and that’s a very conservative estimate) that means that there are nearly 8 million parking spots in the city. And cost? “The cost of all parking spaces in the US exceeds the value of all cars and may even exceed the value of all roads.” The cost of parking subsidies is somewhere between $127 and $347 billion annually, according to Donald Shoup, professor of urban planning at UCLA. To put some perspective on this, the US Department of Education has a budget of $158.4 billion (including significant additional funds from the recovery bill). No wonder we’re the world’s largest polluter behind China and we have an educational system in tatters.
Anyone who’s ever seen “Who Killed the Electric Car” knows about the EV debacle. For those who haven’t, let me briefly summarize. In 1990 the California Air Resources Board passed a mandate that called for a certain percentage of all cars on the road to be zero-emission vehicles. The percentage ramped up from 2% to 10% over the course of 13 years. Car companies initially responded, producing electric cars like GM’s EV1, a well-designed car that got 90 per charge and could be charged in a garage or at the numerous electric vehicle charging stations installed around California. It had zero emissions, and people who drove it raved about it. But even as they complied, the car companies simultaneously fought the legislation, eventually suing the state and getting CARB to drop the mandate. GM pulled all of it’s EV1’s off of the road and crushed them. Nearly 20 years later, we’re just getting excited about hybrid vehicles.
All of this has tremendous impact on urban planning and the architecture within our cities. On an aesthetic level, buildings in downtown areas and along freeways have been designed to appeal to people doing 60mph plus, rather than to the pedestrian on the street. On a more fundamental level, the way we move through our societies determines the special layout of our built environment. Cars reduce urban density in two ways: first, by requiring a huge amount of space that fragments the urban core, and second, by making lengthy commutes and suburban sprawl viable.
Any attempts at densification or the restructuring of the built environment toward more sustainable, integrated systems require that we first address transportation. Only by changing the way people interact with the built landscape can we then change the structure of that landscape.
Sources: 20th-Century Sprawl, Reinventing Los Angeles, Who Killed the Electric Car.
What may come as a surprise to many people, however, is that at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th century, that system was already in place! In 1897, an article in the Los Angeles times proclaimed: “There is no part of the world where cycling is in greater favor than in Southern California, and nowhere on the American continent are conditions so favorable the year round for wheeling.” This was based on the 30,000 frequent riders in the LA area! In fact, the Good Roads movement, the first influential road building movement in the United States, was started not by automobile interests, but the League of American Wheelmen – a bicycle organization. One particular example of an early attempt at bike infrastructure took place in 1900, when a millionaire named Horace Dobbins nearly succeeded in constructing a bicycle path on an “elevated, multilane, wooden structure” with scenic views that would stretch from Los Angeles to Pasadena.
Today, cars are a burden more enormous than most people even come close to imagining. Roads themselves constitute one of the largest investments of Federal dollars in US history. They have transformed the human landscape and our relationship both to the land and each other in far-reaching and omnipresent ways. But they also have more insidious consequences that most of us don’t think about. The ratio of parking area to total land in Los Angeles is 81%. That means for every office building, grocery store, or school, there are four parking lots of equal size. This seeming overabundance of parking occurs because “conservative estimates identify an average of four parking spots per vehicle” in LA. There are 3.8 million people living in Los Angeles proper – if even 1/2 of them have cars (and that’s a very conservative estimate) that means that there are nearly 8 million parking spots in the city. And cost? “The cost of all parking spaces in the US exceeds the value of all cars and may even exceed the value of all roads.” The cost of parking subsidies is somewhere between $127 and $347 billion annually, according to Donald Shoup, professor of urban planning at UCLA. To put some perspective on this, the US Department of Education has a budget of $158.4 billion (including significant additional funds from the recovery bill). No wonder we’re the world’s largest polluter behind China and we have an educational system in tatters.
Anyone who’s ever seen “Who Killed the Electric Car” knows about the EV debacle. For those who haven’t, let me briefly summarize. In 1990 the California Air Resources Board passed a mandate that called for a certain percentage of all cars on the road to be zero-emission vehicles. The percentage ramped up from 2% to 10% over the course of 13 years. Car companies initially responded, producing electric cars like GM’s EV1, a well-designed car that got 90 per charge and could be charged in a garage or at the numerous electric vehicle charging stations installed around California. It had zero emissions, and people who drove it raved about it. But even as they complied, the car companies simultaneously fought the legislation, eventually suing the state and getting CARB to drop the mandate. GM pulled all of it’s EV1’s off of the road and crushed them. Nearly 20 years later, we’re just getting excited about hybrid vehicles.
All of this has tremendous impact on urban planning and the architecture within our cities. On an aesthetic level, buildings in downtown areas and along freeways have been designed to appeal to people doing 60mph plus, rather than to the pedestrian on the street. On a more fundamental level, the way we move through our societies determines the special layout of our built environment. Cars reduce urban density in two ways: first, by requiring a huge amount of space that fragments the urban core, and second, by making lengthy commutes and suburban sprawl viable.
Any attempts at densification or the restructuring of the built environment toward more sustainable, integrated systems require that we first address transportation. Only by changing the way people interact with the built landscape can we then change the structure of that landscape.
Sources: 20th-Century Sprawl, Reinventing Los Angeles, Who Killed the Electric Car.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
1) Peel the earth open. 2) play sports.
China is a country known for many things – overwhelming numbers of people, stunning monuments, communism, and more. In recent years, however, the lens through which everyone seems to be analyzing China is an environmental one. According to the world bank, 16 of the world’s 20 most polluted cities are in China. In 2006, China built an average of two coal plants per week. As China becomes industrialized and it’s citizens become integrated into global consumer society, there are profound environmental issues that have to be dealt with – profound because no country on earth holds more influence on the environmental future of our world.
But another thing that China is known for is it’s incredible sports stadiums. During the 2008 Olympics, China showed off “The Birdsnest,” it’s remarkable multipurpose sports complex that awed the world with it’s unique design. “The Watercube” housed the swim and dive competitions, again drawing praise for it’s beautiful design.
We all know, however, that the issues of sports and the environment, at least in China, are anything but disparate. One of the most talked about issues before the Beijing Olympics was the air quality - an issue only resolved when Beijing spent months reducing pollution in preparation for the games.
A new proposal for a stadium in Dalian, China, manages to redefine the essence of the stadium by opening it up to nature in a way that is quite like anything we’ve ever seen before. The Dalian Shide stadium, designed by NBBJ Architects (out of LA), takes into account far more than just sports. There are large cutouts in the walls at the ends of the stadium that open the stadium up to views of the city and the mountains behind it, as well as to the ocean. A large plaza at either end invites people into the space, helping integrate it into the surrounding city, rather than functioning as a closed event.
But by far the greatest aspect of the stadium, and the thing that makes it so truly unique is the enormous exterior walls that are entirely covered with living plants and grass. The effect is really that of having peeled back the earth to form a stadium.
As for more conventional green measures, solar panels and wind turbines in the walls will generate most of the power, and an extensive water collection system will be used for irrigation and plumbing. The pavement around the stadium will also be porous, preventing the runoff of chemicals and increasing filtration of rainwater.
This is a project that seems, to me at least, similar to the Dragonfly tower I brought up in a previous post about urban farming. Its huge scale and innovation make it seem like a thing of the distant future. But while that’s true certainly of the Dragonfly tower (unless they try to build it somewhere other than Manhattan maybe…), it isn’t necessarily the case with the Dalian Shide stadium. China has the space, the need, and perhaps most importantly, the government force to build a monument like this.
But what I admire most about the building is not how green it is. It’s the way it addresses multiple issues. It’s a building in tune with it’s surroundings, both in a direct, physical sense, as well as a global environmental sense, but it also takes into account people. By inviting people in, by creating a sense of community and pride around so iconic a structure, especially in a country as crucial and important as China, the Chinese government would be furthering the environmental movement in ways that no building in the United States or elsewhere possibly could.
Source: Inhabitat, NBBJ
But another thing that China is known for is it’s incredible sports stadiums. During the 2008 Olympics, China showed off “The Birdsnest,” it’s remarkable multipurpose sports complex that awed the world with it’s unique design. “The Watercube” housed the swim and dive competitions, again drawing praise for it’s beautiful design.
We all know, however, that the issues of sports and the environment, at least in China, are anything but disparate. One of the most talked about issues before the Beijing Olympics was the air quality - an issue only resolved when Beijing spent months reducing pollution in preparation for the games.
A new proposal for a stadium in Dalian, China, manages to redefine the essence of the stadium by opening it up to nature in a way that is quite like anything we’ve ever seen before. The Dalian Shide stadium, designed by NBBJ Architects (out of LA), takes into account far more than just sports. There are large cutouts in the walls at the ends of the stadium that open the stadium up to views of the city and the mountains behind it, as well as to the ocean. A large plaza at either end invites people into the space, helping integrate it into the surrounding city, rather than functioning as a closed event.
But by far the greatest aspect of the stadium, and the thing that makes it so truly unique is the enormous exterior walls that are entirely covered with living plants and grass. The effect is really that of having peeled back the earth to form a stadium.
As for more conventional green measures, solar panels and wind turbines in the walls will generate most of the power, and an extensive water collection system will be used for irrigation and plumbing. The pavement around the stadium will also be porous, preventing the runoff of chemicals and increasing filtration of rainwater.
This is a project that seems, to me at least, similar to the Dragonfly tower I brought up in a previous post about urban farming. Its huge scale and innovation make it seem like a thing of the distant future. But while that’s true certainly of the Dragonfly tower (unless they try to build it somewhere other than Manhattan maybe…), it isn’t necessarily the case with the Dalian Shide stadium. China has the space, the need, and perhaps most importantly, the government force to build a monument like this.
But what I admire most about the building is not how green it is. It’s the way it addresses multiple issues. It’s a building in tune with it’s surroundings, both in a direct, physical sense, as well as a global environmental sense, but it also takes into account people. By inviting people in, by creating a sense of community and pride around so iconic a structure, especially in a country as crucial and important as China, the Chinese government would be furthering the environmental movement in ways that no building in the United States or elsewhere possibly could.
Source: Inhabitat, NBBJ
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Outsider Architecture
Outsider architecture is the name given to architectural projects undertaken by non-architects. It isn’t as common as you might think, considering the stringent laws governing new buildings – what can be built, where it can be build, how it must be built, and who must design, review, and construct it. These kinds of rules are hardly exclusive to the United States, so even in the world as a whole, outsider architecture usually manifests itself in small, unregulated towns and villages, or else as guerrilla projects undertaken in secret at remote locations.
Outsider architecture encompasses everything from the tool shed you designed and built in your back yard, to the 12-acre sculpture complex one man built in the middle of an Indian nature reserve (Nek Chand Sani). And although your tool shed is undoubtedly fine, it’s these larger scale endeavors that have something to teach us about architecture, design, and human spirit, through their blurring of the distinction between art and architecture and the way their form expresses their function.
One of these projects that raises questions about what constitutes architecture is a driftwood complex built by a single artist in the corner of a small nature preserve in Sweden. In 1980, Lars Vilks began construction of this wooden fort that would eventually become known as Nimis, latin for “too much.” The construct wasn’t discovered until two years later by Swedish authorities, who deemed it a “house” and therefore illegally built in the preserve. Vilks meanwhile sold Nimis to the artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude (the legal documents for the sale were a piece of driftwood). A legal battle ensued, and in 1996 (apparently Swedish legal battles last as long as American ones) Vilks declared the area surrounding Nimis and his smaller sculpture, Arx, the independent nation of Ladonia.
In case that history isn’t weird enough for you, things get even sillier. The nation of Ladonia, though not formally recognized by any other nation, boasts 14,000 citizens, all of whom are supposedly “nomads,” since no one actually lives in Ladonia. The national flag is a green Nordic cross on an identically green background. In 2006, the Armed Coalition Forces of the Internets formally declared war on Ladonia. And in 2002, Vilks claimed that 3,000 Pakistanis had applied for immigrant status, apparently missing the satirical nature of the “country.”
Despite its convoluted history and dubious legal validity, Nimis remains standing. And no matter what your feelings are on Ladonia, Nimis deserves your respect. The fortress is comprised of 70 tons of driftwood and nails, and boasts a nine-story tower (remember, it was built in secret by one man). It is hardly a livable “building,” but it seems unquestionably to constitute “architecture.”
I think what this particular example of outsider architecture has to show us is the innate desire we have to erect monuments independent of function. It’s easy to get lost in the intended use of a building, or the carbon footprint it will posses, but it’s important to not lose sight of the human attachment we have to places and to structures. Projects like Nimis, and like Nek Chand Sani also remind us that while rules and regulations may have their place, some of the most spectacular human achievements come when people break away from the laws of society and construct uniquely personal structures.
We don’t need armies of renegade architects creating illegal monuments out in the woods, but we do occasionally need people like Lars Vilks to show us another side of architecture, and the passion and fun that it can inspire.
Sources: Atlas Obscura, Wikipedia
Outsider architecture encompasses everything from the tool shed you designed and built in your back yard, to the 12-acre sculpture complex one man built in the middle of an Indian nature reserve (Nek Chand Sani). And although your tool shed is undoubtedly fine, it’s these larger scale endeavors that have something to teach us about architecture, design, and human spirit, through their blurring of the distinction between art and architecture and the way their form expresses their function.
One of these projects that raises questions about what constitutes architecture is a driftwood complex built by a single artist in the corner of a small nature preserve in Sweden. In 1980, Lars Vilks began construction of this wooden fort that would eventually become known as Nimis, latin for “too much.” The construct wasn’t discovered until two years later by Swedish authorities, who deemed it a “house” and therefore illegally built in the preserve. Vilks meanwhile sold Nimis to the artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude (the legal documents for the sale were a piece of driftwood). A legal battle ensued, and in 1996 (apparently Swedish legal battles last as long as American ones) Vilks declared the area surrounding Nimis and his smaller sculpture, Arx, the independent nation of Ladonia.
In case that history isn’t weird enough for you, things get even sillier. The nation of Ladonia, though not formally recognized by any other nation, boasts 14,000 citizens, all of whom are supposedly “nomads,” since no one actually lives in Ladonia. The national flag is a green Nordic cross on an identically green background. In 2006, the Armed Coalition Forces of the Internets formally declared war on Ladonia. And in 2002, Vilks claimed that 3,000 Pakistanis had applied for immigrant status, apparently missing the satirical nature of the “country.”
Despite its convoluted history and dubious legal validity, Nimis remains standing. And no matter what your feelings are on Ladonia, Nimis deserves your respect. The fortress is comprised of 70 tons of driftwood and nails, and boasts a nine-story tower (remember, it was built in secret by one man). It is hardly a livable “building,” but it seems unquestionably to constitute “architecture.”
I think what this particular example of outsider architecture has to show us is the innate desire we have to erect monuments independent of function. It’s easy to get lost in the intended use of a building, or the carbon footprint it will posses, but it’s important to not lose sight of the human attachment we have to places and to structures. Projects like Nimis, and like Nek Chand Sani also remind us that while rules and regulations may have their place, some of the most spectacular human achievements come when people break away from the laws of society and construct uniquely personal structures.
We don’t need armies of renegade architects creating illegal monuments out in the woods, but we do occasionally need people like Lars Vilks to show us another side of architecture, and the passion and fun that it can inspire.
Sources: Atlas Obscura, Wikipedia
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Incorporating Structures into their Environment
Seamless environmental integration isn’t just a matter of aesthetic taste. By taking the time to evaluate the properties and spatial form of the surrounding area, we can design buildings that are more efficient and simple, as well as beautiful.
A terrific example of this done right comes from the Netherlands, where the Dutch have designed a floating apartment complex. Almost all of the Netherlands is located below sea level, so flooding is a huge concern, and water is frequently pumped out of low lying areas. In order to move beyond this struggle with nature, Dutch architect Koen Olthuis has designed “The Citadel,” the first structure in the “New Water” development.
And although there are some difficulties in building a floating building, like corrosion and maintenance, the complex is expected to use 25% less energy than similar land-based buildings, thanks to the temperature regulating nature of the water.
A spectacular example of the type of nature-blind, ostentatious thinking that has gotten us into the mire of global warming and other problems, is the new “Blue Crystal” building in – where else – Dubai.
The architects claim that a photovoltaic system set up in the ice shell will generate enough electricity to make the whole project self-sustaining. As crazy as this project seems, it’s hard to fault the people behind Blue Crystal if they can pull off energy indepencence. As an isolated example, it doesn’t really matter how big its energy expenditures are so long as they are covered by onsite generation. One could argue that that PV electricity could be used to power surrounding buildings, but then the ice hotel would lose its primary draw, and wouldn’t be built at all.
We’ve been down that road, and we’ve seen where it leads. We don’t need to compromise comfort in order to build sustainable buildings. But we do have to abandon the notion that we can do whatever we like with our structures. To truly achieve sustainability, we have to adapt to nature, not to adapt nature to our purposes.
For more information and source photos, see Inhabitat: The Citadel, and Inhabitat: Blue Crystal.
A terrific example of this done right comes from the Netherlands, where the Dutch have designed a floating apartment complex. Almost all of the Netherlands is located below sea level, so flooding is a huge concern, and water is frequently pumped out of low lying areas. In order to move beyond this struggle with nature, Dutch architect Koen Olthuis has designed “The Citadel,” the first structure in the “New Water” development.
And although there are some difficulties in building a floating building, like corrosion and maintenance, the complex is expected to use 25% less energy than similar land-based buildings, thanks to the temperature regulating nature of the water.
A spectacular example of the type of nature-blind, ostentatious thinking that has gotten us into the mire of global warming and other problems, is the new “Blue Crystal” building in – where else – Dubai.
The architects claim that a photovoltaic system set up in the ice shell will generate enough electricity to make the whole project self-sustaining. As crazy as this project seems, it’s hard to fault the people behind Blue Crystal if they can pull off energy indepencence. As an isolated example, it doesn’t really matter how big its energy expenditures are so long as they are covered by onsite generation. One could argue that that PV electricity could be used to power surrounding buildings, but then the ice hotel would lose its primary draw, and wouldn’t be built at all.
We’ve been down that road, and we’ve seen where it leads. We don’t need to compromise comfort in order to build sustainable buildings. But we do have to abandon the notion that we can do whatever we like with our structures. To truly achieve sustainability, we have to adapt to nature, not to adapt nature to our purposes.
For more information and source photos, see Inhabitat: The Citadel, and Inhabitat: Blue Crystal.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Product Design and Innovation
The most interesting part of product design, for me at least, is the ability to transform commonplace objects into stunning and thought provoking objects of art. The following designers have offered unique new designs for a bookshelf, a clock, and a calendar, that all transcend the pure functionality that usually dominates our impressions of products.
I actually provided a link to Juxtaposed: Religion, designed by Mike and Maaike for blankblank, in my previous article on the Autonomobile. The project takes the world's holy books - the bible, the torah, the koran, the baghavadghita, the analects, the discourses on budha, and the tao te ching - and places them all on a single bookshelf in a series of grooves that render them flush and even on all sides.
"For the first time, the world's most influential religious texts are brought together and presented on the same level, their coexistance acknowledged and celebrated." While this is not a terribly functional bookshelf, unless you happen to be a religious scholar, it has a deeper purpose which it achieves beautifully. Mike and Maaike have managed to convey the equality of religions in a way that is far more profound and appealing than any brief text or dialogue could. That ability to provoke thought should be one of the aspirations of all great design.
In a different vein entirely, Sander Mulder, a dutch designer, has created "Continue Time," a clock that defies conventional form. The clock has a single, articulated arm that manages to display hours, minutes, and seconds simultaneously, instead of using the typical three arms around a central axis model.
One of the things that's so neat about this design is that in addition to telling time, it acts as a moving sculpture, seeking out new and varied positions over the course of the day. In the words of the designer: "The resulting kinetic artwork is continuously changing its shape during a full rotation of twelve hours. While creating mesmerizing patterns on your wall the pointers are still read as with any traditional clock."
This next design has the same appeal, and also deals with altered form as a way of representing time. "Ink Calendar," by Oscar Diaz, is a calendar of paper and ink that keeps track of the day over the course of a month. The ink slowly spreads through a sheet of paper embossed with numbers, coloring each new day as it occurs. Each month features a different color of ink, corresponding to the seasonal weather.
While this design is certainly the most beautiful calendar I have ever seen, it is also something more. By allowing form to change over time, this design, as well as Continue Time, appeal far more to our senses and the innate way we percieve the world than conventional devices for the measurement of time. Oscar Diaz designed with this notion in mind: "The calendar enhances the perception of time passing and not only signaling it. The aim of the project is to address our senses, rather than the logical and conscious brain."
Because of the variance of function, it is no doubt easier to create innovative and unique new designs for products, than to do the same when designing buildings. Nonetheless, what these designs offer is the value of approaching a project free from conventional conceptions of what a product, or a building, "is." Starting from a blank slate is more work, but it provides infinitely more room for creativity and for the creation of truly brilliant design.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Building Block Skyscrapers and the Evolution of the Urban Environment
Skyscrapers were originally built this way because rectangular towers are the easiest way to build, and because the flat, shining monument was considered iconic of progress and advancement. But today, architecture is moving away from simple buildings, and we’re seeing more and more fantastic and original designs (see, for example, any of my previous articles). Even in Dubai, a city with turbo-charged architecture and a fortune to spend on unique design, we encounter skyscrapers that are remarkable, sure, but maintain the conventional design aspects of a removed and insulating façade meant more to instill awe than to make people feel comfortable and invited.
Two new designs have been proposed for skyscrapers in New York City that, if they don’t solve these problems, at least present a radically different notion of the high-rise building. The first, 56 Leonard, designed by acclaimed architects Herzog & de Meuron, is another building with a steel and glass façade, but it completely smashes the mold in terms of being flat and insulating.
56 Leonard is a 50 story building, with 146 different residences, each with custom interiors designed by Herzog & de Meuron (it also has an awesome video on its website). The building looks like a colossal tower built from hollow, glass building blocks; it’s all jutting floors and overhangs. Because of this, every residence has a personal outdoor area.
What makes this building so cool is that it’s broken façade not only connects the occupants to the city and the space outside their homes, but it also provides a more interesting and comfortable ambience on the street.
But if you still can’t get past the somewhat sterile nature of all of the glass, check out this design by Axis Mundi. 53 West 53rd is to be the new site of a tower extension of the Modern Art Museum, located just next door. The developer engaged French architect, Jean Nouvel, who designed a 73 story skyscraper. Apparently, Axis Mundi, headed by John Beckmann, thought they could do better, so proposed this eclectic jumble of colors, surfaces, and uses.
But if you still can’t get past the somewhat sterile nature of all of the glass, check out this design by Axis Mundi. 53 West 53rd is to be the new site of a tower extension of the Modern Art Museum, located just next door. The developer engaged French architect, Jean Nouvel, who designed a 73 story skyscraper. Apparently, Axis Mundi, headed by John Beckmann, thought they could do better, so proposed this eclectic jumble of colors, surfaces, and uses.
The building is intended to be more of a “vertical neighborhood” than a conventional skyscraper. By making it “ultra mixed-use,” residents could be able to work, live, and shop, all in the same building.
Axis Mundi’s proposal possesses a startling amount of character and variety, which allows for balconies and gardens, as well as at least one “hole” in the building, that links 53rd and 54th streets. The modular variation in the building also allows light and air to reach into the different residences.
This design is not only interesting and oddly beautiful, it also appeals far more to our everyday sensibilities than typical skyscrapers. This is a building that makes occupants and passersby feel comfortable, rather than insignificant. In the coming urban density increase, it’s imperative that we create a built environment that is oriented, functionally and aesthetically, around human comfort and happiness. These buildings, though far from perfect, take large steps in that direction.
I, for one, hope that Axis Mundi beats out Jean Nuveau on 53 West 53rd. Next time I’m visiting the MOMA, I want to look next door and find something engaging and human – not another impersonal ivory tower.
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