Search results for "east"

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Eskenazi Upgrade

Indiana University reopens I.M. Pei-designed Eskenazi Museum
The Sidney and Lois Eskenazi Museum of Art has officially reopened its I.M. Pei-designed home at Indiana University. After a two-and-a-half-year, $30 million renovation by Ennead Architects, the 38-year-old structure now features a more intuitive wayfinding system and enhanced lighting design throughout the different galleries, while increasing the museum’s capacity for education and conservation opportunities.  The Eskenazi Museum totals 112,000-square-feet, and with its concrete facade and Pei’s signature light-filled atrium, has been referenced as one of the late architect’s most striking works. While the design may seem like it features zero right angles, Pei, in fact, stitched the structure together using two triangular massings linked by a triangular atrium and its glass ceiling grid. Ennead’s upgrade to the museum, which was led by Susan T. Rodriguez (formerly of the firm) as well as Indianapolis-based Browing Day Mullins Dierdorf, was announced in 2016 after Sidney and Lois Eskenazi donated a $15 million gift to the project, along with several works from their personal art collection.  Originally named the Indiana University Art Museum, the rebrand reflects the institution’s efforts to expand its status as one of the most esteemed teaching museums in the United States. It now hosts 11,000 college and graduate school students while providing learning programming for up to 5,000 local K-12 students.  During the renovation, the team added room for the museum to display its more than 45,000 objects while also establishing space for its own centers for education, conservation, curatorial studies, and the study and display of prints, drawings, and photographs. They additionally designed a glass wall partition in the Asian and Islamic gallery that allows visitors to see into the Center for Conservation. The museum’s administrative offices were updated as well, and a sky bridge was built to connect the building’s east and west wings.
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Major League

Opinion: Shame on the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation
The following editorial comes courtesy of former Taliesin teaching fellow Ryan Scavnicky following the recent news that the School of Architecture at Taliesin would close come June 30 of this year. This letter is the first in a series AN will run in the following days from former students, lecturers, and those in Taliesin’s orbit. The gift shop at Taliesin West tells you everything you need to know about the closure of the School of Architecture at Taliesin (SOAT). Look around it and you will realize there is little gained by the world of architecture from a room full of tourists paying top dollar for home decor with prairie-style motifs. One can smell the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation cashing in on the aesthetic legacy produced by the work of the late architect. Meanwhile, SOAT has continued and built upon that legacy for 88 years, serving as a home base for experimental architecture and providing a counter-narrative to the sterile classrooms of state schools. Through its ups and downs SOAT remains intact and healthy, with enrollment increasing from a total student body of two to 30 in the last five years. Recently independent, on the heels of receiving a full eight-year accreditation, and re-energized by the herculean efforts of president Aaron Betsky and dean Chris Lasch, the school at Taliesin was thriving. Why then, the decision to close?  The architecture community isn’t just mourning the loss of another accredited degree-awarding machine; this is the loss of a pedagogical apparatus whose contemporary presence is in dire need. When we are in school we learn information, but we also learn life skills and craft behaviors which we model off of our colleagues and teachers. We do that outside of the classroom. In an era of infinite access to information, the “living community” of SOAT is increasingly valuable. I am grateful to have served three semesters as the Visiting Teaching Fellow, having experiences with students beyond that which is provided by typical institutions of learning today: I drove sleeping students home from a field trip to Kitt Peak Observatory, asked for help in ridding my apartment of scorpions, washed the dishes, gave a toast, played Dungeons & Dragons, learned yoga, wandered the desert to yell at God, taught Rhino, and I even performed a rendition of En Fermant Les Yeux when entertainment options were running thin. These extreme moments of “ad hoc” were intertwined with everyday life as fluidly as you can imagine. The value of education via distinct experience in today’s attention economy society is certainly worth more to the world than the ability to sell a couple more gaudy stained glass earrings. SOAT made this immensely felt, and the students I was honored to teach are now cutting-edge cultural operators.  On my first day of work, I made jokes about feeling like an Oompa Loompa—that the school’s significance was to provide scale figures to make the tourists happy. At least then I had a value that was being used in service to the field of architecture. In my experience, the current leadership at the Foundation doesn’t care about the mission of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin because they will still be able to sell $250 chess sets and tired craft classes to beady-eyed baby boomers as a stand-in for the heralded school. Do you remember the plot of the movie Major League? Released on April 7, 1989, the film follows a professional baseball team in Cleveland, Ohio. Owner Rachel Phelps secretly wants the team to tank so that she can move them to sunny Miami. She attempts to do this by intentionally staffing the organization with oddballs and misfits who all have a major flaw in their game. Spoiler alert for those who still haven’t seen this cult classic—the ball club finds out about the scheme, and with nothing to lose, the team plays above expectations, eventually winning a playoff series with the New York Yankees. The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation is currently playing the part of owner Phelps, attempting to publicly eschew their role in putting the final nail in the coffin of Frank Lloyd Wright's grand and timely pedagogical legacy just to line their pockets. They made a mistake hiring such capable and passionate administrators. Although SOAT pushed passed many obstacles, there is no nationally-televised game for them to win. Meanwhile, the Foundation is sitting in box seats, resting on their Usonian gravy train and toasting our collective tears. Everything in the statement released by the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation is accurate; but if you believe that to be the whole story then I know a Saudi Prince who would love your email address and social security number. The failure of the School of Architecture at Taliesin to agree to terms with its landlord, the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation, is a real tragedy and we must learn from it. The architecture community needs to be acutely aware of the value of germinating a style recognized by popular culture and what that means for future commodification. We need to be cognizant of the potential impact outsiders can have on our field who fetishize and exploit the genius of our heroes. We must claim aesthetic territory and take no prisoners securing that value to be in service of architecture, lest any more establishments like SOAT become the victims of assassination by the very institutions sworn to protect them. Correction: The article originally gave credit for the accreditation to Betsky and Lasch, however, the process had begun before they started at the school.
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It's a Camp Out

Berkeley approves plans for city-managed homeless encampment
Amid several proposals to temporarily house members of the Bay Area's homeless community (including one that would repurpose disused cruise ships into homeless housing), a recently approved plan for the city of Berkeley is finally moving forward. Councilperson Kate Harrison presented to Berkeley's City Council—and received voter approval for—a scheme for a city-run homeless encampment that would be able to house up to 50 residents at a time during its initial trial period. Harrison's proposal would require the construction of several wind-resistant tents and accompanying plumbing services, and would necessitate trash pickup to be coordinated by city employees. She then offered a parcel on University Avenue as a potential site for the encampment before emphasizing that there are many potential properties throughout Berkeley to begin the pilot program. The project as it's currently envisioned is in line with the Governor's recent executive order to develop vacant properties throughout California into sites for affordable housing. The plan received support from Moms 4 Housing lawyer Leah Simon-Weisberg and the nonprofit group East Bay Citizens For Action, and only received minor criticism from fellow councilmembers prior to its eventual approval. Councilmember Susan Wengraf, for instance, expressed her opinion that while a solution for the city's homeless shouldn't be further delayed, Harrison's proposal would require a great number of man-hours than the city is currently able to provide, while Lori Droste questioned the status of preexisting, unlicensed camps in the area if the plan were to go forward. “We’re all tired,” Harrison responded. “We need solutions tomorrow also, but we need solutions now.”

The Berkeley city staff will spend the next few months determining an ideal site for the project as well as the manufacturers for the tents. During the encampment’s trial run, the project is expected to operate for less than a year and will largely function as a means of protection for those in need against extreme outdoor temperatures during the winter months.

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Rust Belt Revival

RAMSA’s American Water headquarters brings detailed aluminum to the Camden waterfront
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Opened in December 2018, the American Water Headquarters is the most recent significant addition to Camden, New Jersey's, Delaware River waterfront and sits directly across from Philadelphia's Center City. Designed by New York's Robert A.M. Stern Architects (RAMSA), the corporate project articulates the former industrial character of the Rust Belt with an aluminum composite facade studded with significant chamfered window bays. The footprint of the 230,000-square-foot project is narrow and rectangular as a measure to provide the office block with the greatest possible degree of water frontage. The east and west elevations are, as a result, 530-feet-long, highly visible throughout Camden and Philadelphia, and receive a remarkable degree of solar exposure. For RAMSA, the material choice of aluminum composite, and its bespoke detailing for the American Water HQ, addressed contextual concerns and performance requirements. “We sought a material with a subtle yet lively reflective sheen to respond to the ever-changing sun and sky,” said RAMSA partner Meghan McDermott. “The color of panels varies from white to silver to dark gray at various times throughout the day, and at sunset, the facade glows with pink and purple tones.” For the design team, it was critical to maintain outward views whilst mitigating solar gain and glare. The use of chamfered and recessed facade panels was a response to this performance requirement, and their design was developed over the rigorous study of sun angles and sightlines.
  • Facade Manufacturer Almaxco Viracon Bamco
  • Architects RAMSA Kendall/Heaton Associates (architect of record) Gensler (interior design)
  • Facade Installer BAMCO National Glass
  • Facade Consultants Curtainwall Design Consulting
  • Structural Engineer Thornton Tomasetti
  • Location Camden, New Jersey
  • Date of Completion December 2018
  • System Custom stick-built curtain wall
  • Products Viracon VRE30-46 Viracon VNE24-63 Almaxco Aluminum composite panel FCL0720 Silver Metallic w/ PVDF coating
Notably, the project's facade is not unitized but was assembled on-site from individual components. Manufacturer Almaxco produced and painted the aluminum composite sheets at their plant in Singapore. The sheets were then shipped to New Jersey for assembly by fabricator and installer Bamco. The decision to assemble on-site resulted from costs associated with prefabricated panelized systems as well as the logistical challenges of transporting what would have been 10-by-16-foot modules through densely populated southern New Jersey. Although the construction of the facade was not realized until installation, RAMSA and facade fabricator Bamco conducted several full-scale mock-ups at their facility to review detailing issues while also rehearsing installation and assembly. There were areas of particular scrutiny within the overall facade assembly; slip-joints at the reveals, the corner medallions of the panels, and the traveling stair of the west elevation. According to McDermott, “The angles at the traveling stair were especially tricky—triangular panels of glass had to work within minimum glass dimensions for coatings, and the medallions had to follow the slope, requiring origami-type folding of the individual pieces.” Although composite aluminum is the facade's primary stylistic element, certain moments break from this material-centric approach. The two entrances, located at the center of the east and west elevations, are denoted by four-story structural glass walls that illuminate the building's atrium and are on axis with Cooper Street towards the center of Camden.
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Into the Void

Snøhetta's Upper West Side luxury tower approved despite large mechanical void
Yesterday, the New York City Board of Standards and Appeals (BSA) approved Extell Development’s contentious residential tower on the Upper West Side, according to Gothamist. After years of back and forth over the height, the Snøhetta-designed 50 West 66th Street is set to rise at 776 feet tall—the tallest building in the neighborhood—and will keep its significant mechanical void space at the core of the tower's chiseled frame. The project was under threat as recently as last month, when preservation organization Landmarks West claimed that Extell was inflating the building’s height with its 192-foot-tall mechanical void in order to charge a higher premium for top-level units. As AN has previously reported, the Billionaire’s Row developer has pulled this move before, side-stepping zoning regulations throughout the city and ignoring caps on maximum floor areas.  Manhattan Borough President Gale Brewer said the appeal's loss, which occurred in a 2-2 vote tie since one of the BSA members abstained from the process, was major and signals a problem for future similar developments. Opponents have been worried that real estate giants like Extell could use this as a precedent to design large voids in other tower projects in order to boost their overall size. A similar claim was levied against the Rafael Viñoly Architects-designed 249 East 62nd Street when it was first revealed.  Back in early 2019, Extell almost lost the project entirely when it was forced to rethink the tower’s 700-plus-foot height (it was originally pitched at 262 feet). Brewer said construction permits would be revoked, despite approval by the Department of Buildings if Extell failed to change the arrangement and height of its mechanical spaces. The outcry, from both public officials and local residents of the Upper West Side, resulted in a study by the Department of City Planning that detailed how, in New York City, mechanical floors had been excluded from the zoning floor area calculation. In late May, the New York City Council voted to prevent developers from further exploiting this loophole by limiting the height of mechanical voids to 25 feet.  Because 50 West 66th Street was passed before the amendment was made to the zoning law, Gothamist noted the luxury tower will now hold a mechanical void space that totals 176 feet in height—a 16-foot reduction to appease Brewer’s request, but it will now be split into three sections: two 64-foot-tall mechanical areas and a 48-foot-tall void.  Sean Khorsandi, executive director of Landmarks West, told Gothamist that the appeal rejection wasn't as shocking as the way the vote played out. “I think it’s ridiculous that even in the case of a tie, the community loses.” Critics of the project now have the opportunity to file a court appeal as a last-ditch effort to stop it from moving forward. AN has reached out to Snøhetta for comment.
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End of An Era

Frank Lloyd Wright’s School of Architecture at Taliesin will close
After 88 years in operation, the School of Architecture at Taliesin (SoAT) will be closing its doors when the spring semester ends. The Governing Board of the organization said in a statement that it wasn’t able to align with the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation on a plan to develop alternative educational programs over the next year and a half, and will be forced to transfer its remaining 30 students to the nearby Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts at Arizona State University.  “This is a sad and somber day for our school, our students, and staff, and the architecture community,” said Dan Schweiker, chairperson of the board. “Our innovative school and its mission were integral to Frank Lloyd Wright’s vision for connecting architecture to our natural world. Wright’s legacy was not just building. It was a school to promulgate the lessons for all future generations...We did everything possible to fight for its survival but due to other forces it was not meant to be.” Established in 1932, Taliesin has been home to over 1,200 architects who lived and worked alongside Wright and his contemporaries, furthering the practice of “organic architecture.” Students immersed themselves in study while splitting their time between two iconic Wright-designed spaces at Taliesin West in Scottsdale, Arizona, and Taliesin East in Spring Green, Wisconsin. Prior to making the decision to close, leadership at both the Foundation and the school had created proposals to allow the institution to continue operations on both campuses through the end of July next year, a period during which, according to the Foundation, they were going to come up with alternative programming that wouldn't need to be accredited. “The Foundation had reached an agreement with the leaders of the SoAT Board that would have allowed for second- and third-year students to complete their education at Taliesin and Taliesin West, and we are disappointed that it was not approved by the full SoAT Board,” said Stuart Graff, president and CEO of the Foundation. The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation is based out of Scottsdale and is charged with preserving both Taliesin West and East and providing educational STEAM programming inspired by the principles of organic architecture. It is a separate entity from the SoAT, which had to be regularly accredited by several boards and commissions in order to be fully operational. According to a statement by the Foundation, the decision to close the esteemed institution was made because the school “did not have a sustainable business model that would allow it to maintain its operations as an accredited program.” Now that the school is closing, the Foundation said it will expand its educational programming for K-12 students and professionals while continuing to promote Wright's legacy and vision. “The Foundation wants to ensure that it has the ability to work with a variety of partners,” it said, “to develop professional education programs for architects, preservation specialists, and design professionals that will keep the Taliesin campuses vital places for the development of organic architecture in the future.”
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History's Mysteries

Luisa Caldas uses AR to let DS+R's BAMPFA tell its own story
Luisa Caldas is a professor of architecture at the University of California, Berkeley, where she leads the XR Lab, focused on using augmented reality (AR), virtual reality, and other extended reality tools as part of architectural practice. Recently, Caldas created the Augmented Time exhibition at the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive (BAMPFA), housed in a 2016 Diller Scofidio + Renfro-designed building in Berkeley, California. The exhibition used iPad-based augmented reality and physical artifacts to allow the narratives of the building—originally opened in 1940—and those who built it to shine through. AN spoke to Caldas about augmented storytelling, the narrative power of architecture, and what “extended reality” could mean to architects in the future. Drew Zeiba: What was the initial inspiration behind Augmented Time? Luisa Caldas: I was intrigued by the potential of AR to tell a story. I wanted to show a number of interwoven realities that I saw happening in this particular piece of architecture. The building was the Berkeley Printing Press, which was later abandoned and covered in graffiti, before becoming a museum designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro. So, I saw the potential for a timeline kind of storytelling that would be engaging because the building itself was to become its own storyteller. You could embed all this multi-modal digital information that was captured in so many places and just have it congregated on the building itself. The other motivation was to show the workers that actually built the building. I wanted to make visible those faces and those stories that, as an architect who has built buildings, I know are there. Often, all these dramas, all this magic about putting something together, completely fades away and/or is told as the work of an architect. The people who build it actually kind of disappear.  I’m really interested in the relation between this powerful new technology to tell invisible or forgotten stories. Not just as a tool.  I think one of the things this project touches on his how AR could shape how we think about built history, and not only frame discussions of the history of a building, but even question what “preservation” and site-specificity mean in a post-digital age.  Totally, because a lot of the preliminary work that architects do on sites has to do with precedent, has to do with history, has to ask “What is there? How did it come to be there?” We architects always tend to do that research, but it just becomes another invisibility, unless there is a very clear reference in the building design about site context or historical context. And so it becomes our first conceptual stages, our first approaches to the site, to the building, to the program, but it just usually vanishes away. I enjoy asking how process captures or preserves or ignores or incorporates or shows that history, that resonance of the site. For me, that was very fascinating, how to embody that enquiry in this AR experience.  It also shows the potential for AR as a tool for experiencing buildings and the built world as things that don’t just exist in a single moment, but unfold over time. Exactly, which is such a part of human narratives, isn’t it? And it’s so many times built by layering things over one another. So, being able to peel those layers away, to turn the skin into a derma. You know, a skin is a surface, but a derma is a layered reality. That was also the idea: peeling the visible surface away and revealing those layers.  Can you tell me a little more about the technical aspects of the project and the process of realizing it?  I lead a lab of virtual and augmented reality so there was initially a discussion: “Should we have AR headsets or should we have handheld devices?” And headsets were, at the time at least and even today, not really up to what we wanted to do. Also, I like the more democratic access to the experience that the handheld device provides you. We developed the app for iPads, but we can have the app for a smartphone, so anyone can access AR, like you do popular Snapchat filters. This is a project that had to be done in augmented reality, not virtual reality, because it had to be related to the physical artifact of building.  There was a lot of interaction with the museum about visitor access, about how to make invisible things appear in a museum. When you get to a museum you expect to see things, right? And there you want to view was not available. You have to get these devices and you have to understand where to go. That led us to a lot of research on what is called user interface and user experience (UI/UX). We had to invent this new way of showing an exhibition, and to understand how people related to the content and to the technology, and so we did two or three previews where we open the exhibit and we were there seeing what people did and how they used it in a fluid, public event.  Of course, I had a lot of students coming up to try it in the lab, but it is very different how tech savvy students and how seniors or kids use it, for example. We saw all these people using the technology and we learned from it, and we kept refining the UI/UX. We had to create everything from scratch, really, there wasn’t a precedent—we basically invented it.  In terms of the technical solution, we decided to go for the Apple platform. As Apple was releasing more of its technology, we were constantly adapting to what was being made possible, to create more and more ambitious projects. Computer science at Berkeley is excellent. So I had a large team of computer scientists, architects, and also UI/UX designers, and the level of integration was very high. We met every week. Everyone was bringing ideas to the table, everybody was super excited. So there was a big integration between the creative side and the technical side. The technologists and computer scientists could come up with a really creative solution, or the architects or designers could suggest something to the computer scientists that they were not expecting. I think the team was very committed and we knew we were breaking new ground so, it was a lot of fun.  After closing at the museum, BAMPFA AR — Augmented Time reopened at the Wurster Hall Room 108 gallery at UC Berkeley, where it will be on display until January 30. It will later travel to other locations around the country. For more on the latest in AEC technology and for information about the upcoming TECH+ conference, visit https://techplusexpo.com/events/la/
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New Year's Reading Resolution

Kick off 2020 with these architecture primers
Start the new decade off right with these freshly released architecture and urbanism books. From the lasting architectural influence of Thomas Jefferson (with a dash of character examination), to cutting edge research in timber construction, to 10,000 years of earthen construction, the following books all present new examinations of what might seem like familiar topics. Pick up one (or all) of these titles to keep you warm on those long February nights. The Responsive Environment: Design Aesthetics, and the Human in the 1970s By Larry D. Busbea University of Minnesota Press MSRP: $30.00 Busbea begins this book with a question: “Where do we—as subjects and objects—begin and end?” Exploring the new interactions between humans and their environments that characterized the 1970s, Busbea delves into emerging practices in design, art, architecture, and technology. The Responsive Environment analyzes theories developed by Gregory Bateson, Marshall McLuhan, Wolf Hilbertz, and many others, to examine the changes of how we perceive our spatial identities and physical boundaries in the latter part of the 20th century. Ways of Knowing Cities Edited by Laura Kurgan and Dare Brawley Columbia Books on Architecture and the City MSRP: $28.00 Co-edited by Columbia University Graduate School of Architecture, Planning, and Preservation (GSAPP) researchers, Ways of Knowing Cities compiles 16 essays on the influence of technology on urban experiences. The texts broach the undeniable politics of reshaping urbanity through data, calling on architects, anthropologists, migration and media specialists to analyze the information systems that affect cities. The book is a product of a 2018 GSAPP symposium of the same name. Planetary Mine: Territories of Extraction under Late Capitalism By Martín Arboleda Verso MSRP: $29.95 Arboleda opens this book with a description of a miners’ strike in northern Chile as just one example of the effect of global resource extraction on the human experience. He traces the geographic development of supply chain capitalism from South American to East-Asian economies, questioning exploitations of resource-based industries like construction. Planetary Mine rethinks global development in terms of world political climate and geography. The Art of Earth Architecture: Past, Present, Future By Jean Dethier Princeton Architectural Press MSRP: $125.00 In a global survey of raw earth construction techniques, 1987 Grand Prix d'Architecture winner Dethier investigates over 250 instances of environmentally sustainable architecture through technical, cultural, and historical lenses. This encyclopedia of raw earth construction depicts projects built over the last ten thousand years, including UNESCO World Heritage sites from the Great Wall of China to the Great Mosque of Djenné. Over 700 high-resolution photographs and illustrations are paired with essays from 20 experts to explore projects from ancestral palaces to contemporary dwellings. Thomas Jefferson, Architect: Palladian Models, Democratic Principles, and the Conflict of Ideals By Mabel O. Wilson Edited by Lloyd DeWitt and Corey Piper Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk (Yale University Press) MSRP: $45.00 A publication stemming from a 2019 exhibition at the Chrysler Museum of Art of the same name, Thomas Jefferson, Architect provides an inside look into the architectural works of the principal author of the Declaration of Independence. This book examines Jefferson's designs with a new perspective, highlighting the neoclassical influences on the contention between Jefferson's ideology of liberty and property. Jefferson's complex character is explored through the designs of Monticello, Poplar Forest, and the University of Virginia campus, as well as his prioritizations of both democracy and slavery. Wood Urbanism: From the Molecular to the Territorial Edited by Daniel Ibañez, Jane Hutton, and Kiel Moe Actar Publishers MSRP: $54.95 From microscopic biology to the macrocosms of cities, wood has been an invaluable component of construction throughout history. Wood Urbanism explores the scalar properties of wood in terms of species, carbon impact, thermal qualities, ecology, cities, and metabolism. Case studies and visual essays are separated by full-spread photos and technical graphics that question the role of wood in today's industry. Both a manual and a challenge for architects, this book investigates how wood can continue to be a dynamic, multi-faceted material in an ever-changing landscape. Frederick Kiesler: Face-to-face With the Avant-garde: Essential Essays on Network and Impact Edited by Peter Bogner, Gerd Zillner, and the Frederick Kiesler Foundation Birkhäuser MSPR: $44.99 The father of the Correalism theory (the continuous interactions between people and their built environments), Frederick Kiesler was a visionary of architecture and design in both Austria and New York. This monograph is comprised of 21 essays that explore his work in regard to his contemporaries, including Theo van Doesburg, Piet Mondrian, Arshile Gorky, and more. The book's release marks the 20th anniversary of the Frederick Kiesler Foundation, and a celebration of the network of avant-garde artists of the time, placing Kiesler's contributions in fuller context. Bodybuilding: Architecture and Performance Edited by Charles Aubin and Carlos Mínguez Carrasco Performa MSRP: $35.00 Where architecture traditionally functions on permanence, Bodybuilding is the first publication specifically devoted to the ephemerality of live performance in design. Featuring architects and collectives from Lina Bo Bardi to Toyo Ito, the book traces staged performances, rather than constructed buildings, that have questioned the built environment. Bodybuilding was launched as a part of Performa's eighth biennale, examining trends that stemmed from the Bauhaus. The book surveys performance art curated by contemporary designers, who searched for other creative outlets during economic downturns that stymied construction projects. AN uses affiliate links; if you purchase a product through this page, AN may receive a commission. 
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Part Two

Bjarke Ingels defends his meeting with Brazil’s President Bolsonaro
One week after BIG founder Bjarke Ingels was photographed in Brazil alongside the country’s far-right President Jair Bolsonaro, the Danish architect has provided AN with a more in-depth explanation of his time there. Ingels was reportedly touring Brazil as part of a Nomade Group delegation, investors who had been invited by Minister of Tourism Marcelo Álvaro Antônio to explore sustainable tourism opportunities. The backlash online was swift given the President’s history of climate denialism, and only intensified when Culture Secretary Roberto Alvim was fired after lifting phrases and imagery from Nazi propaganda for a speech about funding national art that Bolsonaro finds acceptable. Heated back-and-forths over whether Ingels’ meeting was appropriate broke out on Twitter, as well as in AN’s own comments. Ingels issued the following statement earlier today, where he called for critics to move beyond binary ways of seeing the world:
Our role and impact in the world Many have asked what we are doing in Brazil. My colleague and I have been on a fact-finding trip with Nomade Group to gather background information for a holistic masterplan for responsible tourism in socially and environmentally sustainable destinations in Northeast Brazil. Some may know the incredible, barefoot, light impact environments that Nomade is known for—a form of tourism that doesn’t replace the forest or the sand but rather inhabits and preserves it. A much-needed alternative to the high-rises on the beach that often happens when international tourism arrives as it has in Cancun only hours north of Tulum. We traveled the Northeast Coast of Brazil from Fortaleza to Atins, crossing three states, meeting mayors, governors and ministers across the entire political spectrum, and most importantly, amazing people from all walks of life. The observations and ideas we presented in our preliminary research to the ministries of Economy and Tourism impacted them so much that that they asked us to present our ideas directly to the president’s office. How better to impact the future of the region and the country than to plant the ideas we believe in at the highest level of government? Neither the president nor the ministers are our clients, but we are happy to share our ideas and ideals with a government that is willing to listen. As much as I would enjoy working in a bubble where everybody agrees with me, the places that can really benefit from our involvement are the places that are further from the ideals that we already hold. I love Brazil as a country, and I really want to see Brazil succeed. Slash and burn agriculture is one of many examples of how socioeconomic problems can become environmental problems. That is why I want to be actively involved with the necessary transformation of Brazil and share ideas that I believe would be a great alternative to the traditional development that destroys the landscape, deteriorates the ecosystems and displaces the local community. We may not succeed, but I am certain that we will not succeed, if we don’t even try. Creating a list of countries or companies that BIG should shy away from working with seems to be an oversimplification of a complex world. Dividing everything into two categories is neither accurate nor reasonable. The way the world evolves isn’t binary but rather gradual and on a vast array of aspects and nuances. If we want to positively impact the world, we need active engagement, not superficial clickbait or ignorance. I believe we have a great responsibility that comes with the creative platform that we have created. We should use that platform to change the world for the better. We can’t expect every public instance to be aligned with all aspects of our thinking, but we can make sure that we bring the change we want to see in the world, through the work we do. The ideas and ideals of the projects we propose bear their legitimacy. That means working in countries like Brazil (and the USA for that matter) despite the controversies that their elected leaders may generate. One of the core principles of democracy is the ability to coexist and collaborate despite political differences. In my mind that is a way for us architects to have ethical impact. To engage actively to create the future that we want, by proposing our ideas to people, governments and businesses even if they have different points of view than we do. We have to engage and embrace our differences if we want to dare to imagine a different future. Bjarke Ingels
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2020 USA Fellowship

United States Artists awards MOS and Sara Zewde with $50K grants
Chicago non-profit United States Artists (USA) has announced its 2020 fellowship class, a group of 50 creatives across the country and various disciplines who will be awarded $50,000 in unrestricted grants towards supporting their lives and individual work. New York-based MOS Architects and landscape designer and urban artist Sara Zewde were selected as this year’s sole architecture honorees.  “It is a critically important time to support the livelihoods of artists and we are ecstatic to be able to honor 50 of them this year,” said USA President and CEO Deana Haggag. “The 2020 class is the largest cohort of Fellows we have awarded since we relocated to Chicago, and each and every one of them stands out as a visionary influence in their respective field.”  Born in Los Angeles in 2006, USA was established soon after the National Endowment for the Arts decided to cut ties with its personal grant awards program. Now backed by larger endowment groups like Bloomberg Philanthropies and the Ford and Rockefeller Foundations, among others, USA has continued to grow its annual fellowship program, often awarding two or three design teams among the honorees. Recent winners in the field include Erin and Ian Besler of Besler & Sons, Keller Easterling, and Lucia Cuba in 2019, as well as Amanda Williams and Norman Kelley in 2018.  Founded by principals Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample in 2005, MOS works out of Harlem, New York, on numerous projects ranging from schools, apartments, exhibition design, furniture, books, and more. Most recently, MOS completed a nine-acre Housing Laboratory in Mexico meant to help the National Works’ Housing Fund Institute (Infonavit) explore new low-cost housing typologies. In 2018, AN named the firm one of the top 50 interior architects in the country.  Zewde is the founding principal of Studio Zewde based in Harlem, New York. A trained landscape architect from Harvard GSAPP, Zewde also holds a master’s in city planning from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. She integrates artistry and activism into her work, as seen in her graphic urban park planned for the Africatown Community Land Trust in Seattle or her masterplan for Plan Road, a historic street in East Baton Rouge that’s about to undergo major changes as the site of Louisiana’s first-ever Bus Rapid Transit system. In 2018, Zewde was named to the National Trust for Historic Preservation's inaugural “40 Under 40: People Saving Places” list. Find the full list of USA's 2020 fellows here.
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10th Anniversary Memories

SCHAUM/SHIEH builds practice through agreement
The following interview was conducted as part of “Building Practice,” a professional elective course (and now AN interview series) at the Syracuse University School of Architecture, taught by Molly Hunker and Kyle Miller. On October 10, 2019, Kate Kini and Rachael Gaydos, students at Syracuse University, interviewed Troy Schaum and Rosalyne Shieh of SCHAUM/SHIEH. The following interview has been edited by Kyle Miller and AN for clarity. This year marks your 10-year anniversary. Congratulations! Can you talk about how starting a practice in 2009, the year after the recession, presented a challenge that may have limited growth? Troy Schaum: Both of us were teaching when the recession hit. Rosalyne was a Taubman Fellow at the University of Michigan and I was a Wortham Fellow at Rice. What we anticipated would be a brief foray into the academy was extended as a result of the macroeconomic situation in this country. We had to figure out how to work as architects without being hired to work as architects. So we started making our own projects—competition submissions and university-sponsored independent research projects and installations. It was only after we were invited to participate in the Venice Biennale in 2012, curated by David Chipperfield, that we started to get commissioned work. I don't know if those two things were related, but we started to pick up projects both in New York and Texas, and we very quickly had four additional employees. Our office size hasn’t grown a lot since then, but when we look at the numbers every year, it's been relatively steady, which is its own form of success. In response to the challenges of starting a practice at that time, have you used unconventional methods to promote your firm or to attract potential clients? Rosalyne Shieh: We began our practice in an academic setting with little opportunity to practice in a traditional manner. In 2009, by starting in the midst of the recession, there was little momentum to be lost and the work we made was unsolicited. I don’t mention this so much to bemoan, rather to state the conditions within which we set out and to explain why in the beginning, most of our work was speculative, invested in an alternate economy of ideas and discourse, one partially encapsulated from the macroeconomic situation that professional practice is embedded in. So we may have had a small audience tied to the academy, but we didn't have clients. We started by thinking about what it meant to make work that nobody was asking for, about what questions could be posed or offerings made through the framework of an architectural project. The parameters and conceptual territory of this early work were partly self-defined but also defined by our educations, conversations with our peers and collaborators, as well as things we were reading and looking at. This was an important incubation period for us, but it didn’t necessarily transition seamlessly into attracting clients and working on commissioned projects. Troy: What encouraged that transition for us was a desire to work at a certain scale. We were conducting design research and building temporary installations, but we were interested in engaging building[s] at a much larger scale. When we received opportunities to work on larger projects, we realized that the two of us couldn’t do it alone anymore. We had to build an ecosystem of people to support us. All of a sudden we had to develop an economy around the work in order to support the people that were supporting us. At that point, we found ourselves running a business. We didn't say “no” to a lot of requests, because you never know where certain journeys are going to take you. In 2012 or 2013, we were asked by some relatively young people in Houston if we were interested in designing a music venue. We made some sketches and renderings for a very small amount of money. We just assumed these people would go away and we’d never hear from them again. What actually happened was that they took those renderings all over town and raised significant capital to build the music venue. What also happened was that lots of people who build things in Houston saw the renderings. They didn't necessarily want to invest in a music venue but were very curious about us as architects. Developers would contact us and request a portfolio of built work. The problem was that we hadn't actually built anything! It’s a common and unfortunate catch-22, especially for a U.S.-based practice in its earliest stages. That said, some of them hired us anyway. How do you mediate between presenting your work to a broader public audience versus an audience of architecture students, colleagues, and other professionals? Troy: This is a huge issue for us, especially as we oscillate between our audiences. We're both teachers and we both have conversations with very erudite students and colleagues, and we have conversations with people who work out of the back of their trucks and know a lot about building things, but not so much about architectural discourse. The importance and role of communication and the ability to articulate ideas to many different audiences [are] primary to our understanding of architecture. You mentioned two audiences, but there are probably 20 audiences that we communicate with throughout the course of the day, from the people that are going to send us metal samples to the lawyers that are helping us draft contracts for our clients. Rosalyne: Also, communication is a very personal thing. You have to respond to who you're talking to. Depending on what it is that each person is able to receive or wants to talk about, you have to meet each other somewhere, and you both need to arrive from where you’re coming. I like to speak with my own voice across different conversations, but communicate differently given the situation or who I’m talking to. Troy: It's become very apparent to me that when we talk about audiences in school, we’re talking about collectives. And we're very interested in creating projects for collectives. There's a democratizing idea that architecture is for everyone. It is. But, one of the things that I underestimated was how powerful architecture can be for individuals­–our individual clients and the contractors who build our projects. What do you understand to be your responsibility as an architect? Troy: Wow, that's a difficult question! Our practice is both of our names for a reason. SCHAUM/SHIEH wasn't just a default. That decision makes the practice a very personal thing for us. I imagine there's certain ethics in our work. I believe we have a responsibility to use these professional tools and our ways of seeing the world to be as careful and reflective and deliberate about our decisions and our work, especially when working in cities and in public spaces. To be stewards of the resources that we’re given, to be stewards of opportunities that we’re given to shape cities–these are very important responsibilities. Rosalyne: I agree and would add that we hope our projects enrich the world and make more connections possible. That's the aspiration, at least. We hope our efforts lead to building more complexity into the world. One of the quotes that we come back to a lot is this one–it's included by Jane Jacobs at the beginning of Death and Life of Great American Cities, from Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.: “Life is an end in itself, and the only question as to whether it is worth living is whether you have enough of it.” He's talking about the vibrant complexity of civilization and Jacobs connects this to cities as an engine of that. There's an interest in the pursuit of what we do as architects, but also as people to contribute to more life for more people. Some architects believe that there should be a separation between being a citizen and being an architect, specifically in relation to political issues and attempt to be as apolitical as possible. With your office, it seems to be the inverse. How much effort do you put into making a project political? Does it come naturally from its inception? Rosalyne: That’s a good question, and it's one that comes up again and again in architecture: What is the relationship between architecture and politics? If being political means seeing and engaging structural inequality, I can't live in a world where those two things can be separated, because it would mean willfully denying a part of reality, if not my own then someone else’s, with whom I share this world. It’s not only an issue of what we believe, but it’s also about lived realities. There could be different reasons why people feel the need to separate these roles. It could be because the very act or idea of the work—its property—requires that its limits are circumscribed. One way to work on something is to isolate or bracket it from other things. Or it might be a matter of survival: the world can be difficult; maybe you’re at capacity with what you can handle, and creative work is a kind of expression that feeds you. Some might have the choice to separate the two where others don’t. Broadly speaking, people undertake creative work for so many different reasons. I would just ask whether your position to proceed in any certain way is predicated upon an invalidation of someone else’s, and if it does, I would find it hard to support. I do not require you to not be in order for myself to be. That said, work that is explicitly political is not the only way to be political as an architect or artist. Godard said: “The problem is not to make political films but to make films politically.” That might mean simply expressing or applying yourself without explanation. There's no way to escape this question. It's not fair actually, to say that those worlds should be separate. I can't say that every project we do is political; we're not a political practice per se, but I am who I am, who I am, who I am… whether it's an architect, an educator, a person in the world, a cis-woman, a Taiwanese person, visibly Asian, a daughter of immigrants in the United States, today. The tension of trying to hold all these things together is at the heart of my humanity. Troy: There's a certain disciplinary agenda in the work of some practices, and a legacy of a particular kind of formalism. This way of approaching architecture is very different from how we understand practice. One important role of the architect is to construct agreement. For example, when working on White Oak Music Hall, we found ourselves in scenes similar to scenes in Ghostbusters where we were summoned to the mayor's office at eight in the morning to be reproached regarding an aspect of the project that a certain constituency was not happy with. These explicitly political aspects of practice and this particular project necessitated engagement with a broad audience and a range of issues well beyond the purview of the discipline of architecture. I don't know how you practice any other way. It's beautiful that buildings have the ability to engage political issues, and that architects have the ability to engage political issues. What's been the most rewarding moment in your professional careers thus far? Troy: We recently had the opportunity to observe how powerful work can be for an individual. This positive impact is not something you can encounter until you build something. White Oak Music Hall was embedded in a lot of politics around how music is booked in this country. We created White Oak Music Hall and made a lot of sacrifices in order to complete that project. We were criticized by a portion of the local community, but also supported by many diverse groups within the community. Recently, after finding out that we designed White Oak Music Hall, a local musician said to us, “That space you've created—we didn't have a space like that. That's my temple.” There's an entire ecosystem of creative people that can now work in this space we designed. Rosalyne: I agree with that, and I'll give you pretty much the same answer, but in a more abstract sense. We’ve had that experience a few times with the projects that are out in the world, with both White Oak Music Hall and Transart. You talk to people, and you might not know them well, and they’re like, “I know that project,” and they share some story that gives you an understanding that the project somehow belongs to them. These are the moments when you realize that projects, once they are out there, belong to the world and not just to ourselves. It can come back to us through clients, contractors, or anyone really… when they share a sense of belonging to this thing that we helped create, and that’s a really special moment.
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Watching the Watchmen

The Surveillance Technology Oversight Project wants to curb surveillance abuses
Without a suspicious eye or an advanced degree in software engineering, it can be nearly impossible to keep abreast of the evolving role surveillance technology has had in the law enforcement of the built environment. Biometric databanks, facial recognition cameras, cell phone trackers, and other watchful devices have been quietly installed throughout our major cities with shockingly little public disclosure and virtually no discussion with privacy advocates. New Yorkers deeply familiar with their city's streets, bridges, and subway system may still be largely unaware of the more than 9,000 surveillance cameras currently installed on top of them under the watchful eye of the New York Police Department (NYPD)—and those are only the ones either publicly disclosed or visible enough for the public to spot on their commutes. Their targets, their prejudices, and the malpractices they engender all remain shrouded in secrecy, resulting in discriminatory injustices too numerous for any member of the common public to challenge. With prior experience as a lawyer, technologist, and interfaith activist, Albert Cahn founded The Surveillance Technology Oversight Project (S.T.O.P.), a 501(C)(3), non-profit advocacy organization and legal services provider based in New York City in 2019 with the goal of addressing local officials’ growing use of surveillance technologies and serving the victims of surveillance abuse. Within the last year, S.T.O.P. has already stepped in to litigate against many recently uncovered abuses of surveillance technology and databanks; including the NYPD's misuse of mobile device forensic tools (MDFTs) and the Metropolitan Transportation Authority's (MTA)'s use of facial recognition surveillance technology in the Times Square/Port Authority Subway Station. AN spoke with Cahn to learn about the extent to which surveillance devices have already become a common element of the urban fabric, and what organizations like S.T.O.P. can do to lessen their grasp on our personal information. Shane Reiner-Roth: How did your nonprofit begin? Why was surveillance chosen as a central issue? It came out of my prior work as a legal director for The New York Chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), a nonprofit organization that has worked for more than 25 years to defend constitutional rights.  In that role, I saw the alarming array of high-tech tools deployed by the NYPD that were disproportionately targeting that demographic. It seemed like there was an urgent need to make that our top priority. How do you determine an “impacted community?” Here in New York, the discriminatory habits embedded in surveillance systems mirror those found in more traditional forms of law enforcement. In other words, our group has observed the same patterns of policing that occur in physical spaces using analog techniques being replicated by digital techniques, including identity tracking systems and comprehensive databanks. The Gang Database, for instance, is a confidential record organized by the NYPD that lists over 42,000 New Yorkers as suspected gang members, about 99 [percent] of which are people of color. Oftentimes, the impact of these newly developed systems can engender forms of harassment just as significant as through conducted through stop-and-frisk. The people who are being constantly monitored may not know their lives are under a microscope. We’ve seen technology originally developed for the US military, including StingRay phone tracking towers and Counter-IED (Improvised Explosive Devices) equipment, deployed throughout the city without public disclosure. The public was not only uninformed of their presence, but they also didn’t learn the extent to which these technologies were potentially retaining their data, and they certainly didn’t have a say in how they were dispersed across the city. How do surveillance systems present (or conceal) themselves within NYC’s infrastructure? One of the most difficult parts of surveillance work is that much of the infrastructure is completely opaque to the New Yorkers being monitored. And even if they’re visible to the naked eye, we can’t know by looking at them if they’re running facial recognition, biometric analyses, or any other invasive methods of surveillance.  New York City has the largest investment in anti-terrorism surveillance technology in the country, yet nearly all of it goes unreported. Yet following the initial investment in the physical infrastructure of the city, there's a relatively low cost to add additional layers of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and surveillance technology on top of it. A common example is the ALPR, a device embedded into many of the city's bridges to reads license plate numbers and store them in a database that allows the MTA to charge drivers for crossing. How is the surveillance situation different in various parts of the world? We see cities all around the world grappling with this issue. The issue in China has become well known, in which its citizens can be automatically penalized for behavior its government doesn't find agreeable in the form of automatic reductions through their WeChat accounts. Suddenly, the wheels of a justice system are not only driven forward by AI, but they make it almost impossible to disagree or contend with what the algorithms decide. On the flip side, you have countries like Sweden that intentionally limit the data stored in their license plate reading systems. Their authorities have made it clear that they did not install their system for privacy breeching, even though they could use it to make personal information available to the police, they self-imposed limits as a matter of law through automatic image cropping.  Do you feel there could be a version of surveillance that is morally just? Like any form of law enforcement, advanced forensic systems can, of course, have potentially equitable outcomes—we have seen extreme cases such as with DNA matching to exonerate innocent people, for instance. The problem comes in when it's embedded in our infrastructure without the proper safeguards—when they collect data that is simply inappropriate to collect in a free society. How can ordinary citizens protect themselves against unwarranted surveillance when navigating the city? It's often the case that the people who have the time and money to invest in protecting themselves against surveillance are those who are also least vulnerable to its effects. The clients of mine who may be struggling financially or are undocumented are usually not able to invest the same level of resources. While individuals can always increase their odds of maintaining privacy by improving the security of their digital identities, none of us will be able to protect our privacy until we reform the laws and enforce better police practices. We need systemic reform to be truly secure in our privacy and reverse racial injustices perpetuated by unregulated surveillance infrastructure. Do you hope to broaden your work beyond New York state? There are already so many amazing activists operating throughout the world fighting the same battles we do in New York City. While S.T.O.P. will always be based here, we have offered advice on potential litigations strategies beyond our city and will continue this service in the future.