Monday, February 28, 2011

Blog Post 7 - Playing with the Art of Happiness

I believe that architecture invokes happiness when it is aligned with the values of the the one who experiences or inhabits that space. In our reconnaissance walk I observed children at play at an on-campus day-care center. Because I value play and associate play with joy and happiness I would define the Curry Child Care Center as a happy place.

The children's playground at the Curry Child Care Center (photo: http://ccepp.uncg.edu/curryannex.htm)

Filled with laughing, happy children enjoying the sun, the sand, and actively taking part in games to me is happy. Though I shared this opinion with my classmates there were a couple who disagreed because their value of children and playgrounds did not align with my own. Perhaps this is the first "rule" for happy architecture - that it fits the values of the ones it intends to serve.

 A children's playground is certainly less happy when not in use (photo: http://ccepp.uncg.edu/curryannex.htm)

In the absence of the intended population the playground as a place is less happy. Have we stumbled upon rule #2? A happy place is a utilized space; it is commodious. The purpose of the playground is straightforward: to entertain young people and provide for them physical activities that are beneficial to their physical and emotional health.  And this could also be true for other happy places and spaces.

Since I am drawn to the outdoors the Sculpture Garden at Weatherspoon Museum on campus is a space that I also find happy. Like the playground it aligns with the values I hold, specifically for art, community, and nature. At times it fills the service of a quiet place to contemplate as well as an active and exciting place to meet others.

Happiness through connecting to the natural in the Weatherspoon Museum Sculpture Garden (photo: http://weatherspoon.uncg.edu/sculpturegarden/)

So, like the playground it is useful and serves a function. With respect to the other classically-defined rules of design I may have to take issue with requiring firmness. One thing that both the playground and the sculpture garden reflect is the dynamic and changing nature of our spaces. I find both beauty and happiness in the fluidity and impermanence of  places and spaces. As a fickle human I require an element of change in my architecture - how boring life would be if nothing ever changed.

The changing exhibitions of the Sculpture Garden illustrates the beauty that can be through change and a total lack of firmness.

Exhibits at the Sculpture Garden change and are changed by the surrounding natural landscape (photo: http://weatherspoon.uncg.edu/sculpturegarden/)

De Botton says that "we speak of being 'moved' by a building, we allude to a bitter-sweet feeling of contrast between the noble qualities written into structure and the sadder wider reality within which we know them to exists" - but I would disagree. It is not the "sadder wider reality within which we know them" it is the beauty of the surrounding and ever-changing contexts that bring happiness. It is the anticipation of greater, more beautiful things that brings happiness to architecture. It is Vitruvius' delight - that unique ephemeral quality that is hard to define but that which most of us can point at it when we see it.

It is this alignment with our own values whether individually, as a class group, or as a greater culture that defines happiness in architecture. For some it is the value of leisure, physical activity, and play - for others it is creative expression through art and through an ever-maturing landscape.

Reading Reflection 7 - Palaces of Faith

Monday, February 21, 2011

Blog Post 6 - Comparing Cathedrals at Amiens and Salisbury

The Cathedrals at Amiens and Salibury reflect their regional and local contexts. Specifically, Amiens represents a building constructed after the growth of the surrounding city so it is more condensed in space and more uniformly vertical as a result of not having the space to spread out laterally. Salisbury on the other hand was built prior to the surrounding city and has carved out a space for itself including a green area circling the cathedral. 


 As seen from above the Cathedral Notre Dame d' Amiens is tucked into the city of Amiens, closely surrounded by nearby buildings (photo: http://www.westcler.org/gh/curlessmatt/arthistory/11a/AmiensAerial.jpg)


In contrast the Cathedral in Salisbury is surrounded by green space at a distance from the surrounding buildings (photo: http://www.salisburycathedral.org.uk/gallery.php?id=64)
 
In addition to the building’s orientation and placement in context of the city the surface materials used to construct the façade of both Amiens and Salisbury Cathedrals reflect a direct connection to regional identity. The stone of the Amiens Cathedral, which are assumed to have been taken from local quarries is different in color and texture compared to the stone in Salisbury Cathedral. These differences have an impact on the appearance of the interior with Salisbury’s stone being smoother and warmer in color while the stone at Amiens is stark in color and resulted in a rougher appearance once constructed. 

 The stark gothic interior of Amiens (photo: http://faculty.evansville.edu/rl29/art105/img/gothic_intamiens.gif) 

And the warmer stone interior of Salisbury (photo: http://www.nd.edu/~agutting/MILL.html)

A clearly articulated ideal of a Gothic cathedral is illustrated in both Amiens and Salisbury. With soaring stained-glass windows both buildings attempt to connect the visitor to the lofty heavens through light. What differs between these two is the use of vertical and horizontal decorative elements. Amiens takes advantage of the vertical through a pair of towers and multiple colonnettes (Roth, p. 336). Salisbury uses horizontal decoration and masonry work to emphasize the lateral. 

As seen through the gothic cathedral the cognitive map of the medieval might look like this: 
With the church serving as a wedge that intersects all aspects of life from the the individual outward to the city. 

Reading Reflection 6 - Merchants in the Middle, Gothic Architecture in Market Squares

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Medieval and Gothic Architecture

I am so excited about our current explorations in class as we are looking at Medieval and Gothic architecture. I was set straight early on as to what Medieval and Gothic architecture is REALLY all about when I traveled to Poland and visited St. Mary's Basilica in Cracow (Mariacki Bazylika w Krakowie).

The Basilica has an extensive website with loads of wonderful pictures (from which I share a small collection). 



What it is today is a hodge-podge of architectural elements dating back to the late 13th century. Despite being within a walled city St. Mary's was damaged several times and suffered from fires as well as enemy occupations.

No dark and dreary here! St. Mary's is famous for its alterpiece by "the greatest sculptor of Gothic art" (http://www.krakow-info.com/oltarz.htm) Viet Stoss in the late 15th century.



The exterior tells the story of invasions, fires, changing aesthetics, and variety in building materials but the INTERIOR is STUNNING!!!




Even if you can't read the Polish - admittedly my own ability has diminished in the 15 years it has been since I first visited - you can see the history and faithful dedication to preservation that the people of Krakow have lavished on this lovely old cathedral.

Unit Summary 1 - Foundations: Elements of Order

A single foundational theme emerges from early architectural history: ORDER.

The objects, buildings, spaces and places that have persisted through the ages are expressions of how we humans have tried to bring order to our lives and our afterlives. Both the Neolithic stone circles in Europe (Roth, pp. 171-176) and early dwellings of Asia Minor (Ching, pp.17-18, 34-37) demonstrate the need for an organized orientation to the cosmos. Structures and their openings were created to follow the predictable paths of the stars, planets, the sun and moon. Early civilizations looked outward to find meaning to their lives and this was no more clearly represented than through the pyramid tombs of Egypt (Ching, 64-73). Starting from below ground the leaders of Egypt were compelled to reach into the heavens with their architecture as they sought to understand and express the hierarchy of the living and how that order persisted even after death.



Moving progressively from the outer cosmos through the indeterminate spaces of faith and religion toward the individual early civilizations built solid and permanent reminders of how they viewed the world. Early Greek architecture is an example of how this ordering of faith is expressed in form. Temples large and small appeared on the landscape paying tribute the numerous god and goddesses of Greek religion. The order of importance for these gods was expressed by the size, intricacies, maintenance, and placement of these temples (Ching, 121-138). We also see the most prominent expression of bringing order to people and their faith in the layout Greek cities as they were intentionally planned and ordered in a grid pattern around the most prominent temples (Roth, 222-226).


As time passes and people begin to migrate, trade, and conquer the basic elements of building are seen across civilizations. The basic principle of bringing order remains as consistent as the architectural elements represented by circles, stacks, and groves and are repeated across the globe.  In the forms as they were built we see prototypes of circles in the Stupa of India (Ching, pp. 177-179) and the tombs in Mayan North America (Ching, pp. 186-188); stacks in Xianyang Palace in China (Ching, pp.148-150) and the pyramids of Teotihuacan in present day Mexico (Ching, pp. 225-228); and groves in the form of Egyptian (Roth, pp. 203-206), Greek (Ching, 121-129) and Roman columns (Roth pp. 264-271). While the fundamental forms of circles, stacks, and groves are pervasive their expression is always unique to the culture in which it is created (Hall, p. 3).



This compelling desire to bring order to our space and our lives has persisted over the centuries so that the forms used especially from ancient Greek and Roman Empires continue to be referenced and used in present-day architecture. Especially in public places like universities, government buildings, and community spaces the archetypes of the Roman column and the palace stacks of China are repeated. We, as humans, continue to find ways to bring order to our space. Because the foundational drive to create order is the same there is every reason to expect that the expression of that drive has changed so little.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Reading Reflection 5 - Rebuilding: Bamiyan and Ise Jingu

Blog Post - Design & Music: Centre Pompidou

Free to flow from all directions
Color for purpose
BLUE for the air and electric YELLOW
 Insides out and outsides in
People form the movement
Words fill the space
Can you see the rhythm?

Monday, February 7, 2011

Blog Post - Intention and Function at UNCG

During our tour of campus on Friday I was struck by the "ugly circles" identified by the instructor. I understand the elements of design and the intentionality that designers are charged with in negotiating those elements. The symmetry and balance of the academic buildings placed along College Avenue, for the most part, follow clearly defined principles of "good" design. But I struggled with the "ugly circles" embedded in the stonework intermittently placed along the College Avenue promenade.

I see the axes on which many of these circles are placed and when I think about the infinite number of axes possible within a circle I wonder if a more nuanced explanation may be applied.

Outside of the residence hall entrances, regardless of any structure in opposition to the hall, there are these "ugly circles". So, as a student I walk out of my hall and land on one of these stonework circles. For me these circles symbolize the infinite number of directions I can take without being slowed down by a more perpendicular intersection. Symbolically, I would want to have as many options to me as possible.

It is like round-abouts in vehicular traffic: some assume that they are more dangerous, or "ugly" but it turns out in practice they are a safer, and more efficient, design for intersections and there are a multitude of axes from which one can enter or exit a traffic circle. (Merry-go-round. (2007). Economist, 384(8541), 24. Retrieved from EBSCOhost.) Ultimately, "ugly circles", to me, are about choice and opportunity in form and function.

This idea applied to an identified beautiful circle on campus might enlighten my discussion. Let's use the circular, neo-classical entrance to the Jackson Library:

http://libphoto1.uncg.edu/netpub/server.np?find&catalog=catalog&template=detail.np&field=itemid&op=matches&value=683&site=UR_Public

It clearly marks the entrance to the library and the columns support the upper roof of the entranceway so it is rather commodious. Made of stone, marble, and concrete it has stood steadfast over the decades and fits a reasonable definition of firmness. Of course, it is aesthetically pleasing; the columns bring your eyes upward and it is a beautiful entrance for the setting and in concert with the surrounding  buildings. But, going back to the axes on which the existing pathways that lead to and from the library I think the matter of commodity needs to be revisited.




You can see how, out of practice, students and campus visitors have circumvented the intentionally designed form of the pathways to create their own. Out of use and necessity a new, and yet still circular in nature, form has been superimposed on the space demonstrating its limited commodity and detracting from it's inherent delight.


So, I say, don't underestimate a lowly ugly stonework circle on campus. They are there to remind students that they can go in any direction they choose so that when the intention of the designers doesn't connect to the needs of the users they are ready to literally blaze their own trail (while also figuratively doing the same as they pursue their individual futures).


These circles made of paving stones may have use beyond their durable material by contributing to fundamental ideas of learning - students can go anywhere but they must take that first step in the "right" direction. For me they are sacred reminders of education and the opportunities that choice can bring.

Reading Reflection 3 - Circling the Sacred at Sanchi

A thread of sacredness in architecture runs through so many of the places we study, but this one was particularly special to me as I am a practicing Buddhist.

Sanchi represents to me the most fundamental aspects of my faith - meditation and an inseparable connection to all people past and present. The stupa at Sanchi are on my own personal list of places to visit in my lifetime as there are few places in the United States where Buddhism is practiced so actively as it is in Central Asia. Sites like Sanchi, and the Grand Stupa in Kathmandu, remind me that I am connected to a greater community and a rich history through my own daily practice.


Friday, February 4, 2011

Chairs - Hill House by Mackintosh

In researching the Hill House Chair I found a wonderful photograph of the chair as it was in the room that C. R. Mackintosh designed. I love the contrast between the white and the bold black of the chair. Thought it is tucked into a corner the chair makes the surrounding space.





http://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/details/677382/