Half Dose #112: Graham Bookshop

On Tuesday, December 17, the Graham Foundation is launching a bookshop that occupies the former dining room of the foundation’s historic Madlener House on Chicago's Gold Coast. The bookshop is designed by local architect Ania Jaworska, an installation "comprised of four bold mesh structures that display books and periodicals from the fields of architecture, design, art, and culture," per the Graham Foundation.


[Views of the Graham Foundation bookshop designed by Ania Jaworska, Chicago, 2013. Photos by Travis Roozée.]

At first glance the design seems out of place, not so much for how it relates to the 1901 Prairie style mansion it occupies, but because the mesh forms – especially the arch in the foreground of the above photo – look like garden follies that want to be traversed by plants and/or people.



But when considered as a pop-up bookstore (therefore not permanent) launched in conjunction with Environments and Counter Environments. "Italy: The New Domestic Landscape,” MoMA, 1972 (curated by Peter Lang, Luca Molinari and Mark Wasiuta), the construction and forms seem more appropriate. In terms of the latter, there is a certain Postmodern flair to the forms that provides a strong link – intentionally or inadvertently – with the concurrent exhibition.



Per the architect: "The sheer effect of the material allows for books and objects to populate
the forms in which they become active variables in the installation, while maintaining a lightness
that allows the room to remain a visible and integral aspect of the work. The diamond pattern of the material alludes to the detail of the ornamental ceiling while its soft pale green color complements the warm tones of wood paneling."



I'll admit the "soft pale green color" was a surprise on reading, since the installation (built by Metal Magic) basically looks white. But a closer look at the photos, particularly the areas where the mesh overlaps itself to take precedence over the background, reveals the barely perceptible green. Even though the mesh is not the ideal surface for stacking books (if a permanent shop, people would be buying books with mesh imprints on the back cover after a while), the sawtooth formation is a great way to display book covers – twice as many than if the table were flat.

Half Dose #111: Papillon

The following text and photographs are courtesy Hal Ingberg Architecte for the Pappilon installation at Les YMCA du Quebec in Montreal, completed in 2012.



Context
Papillon (or butterfly in English) is a permanent installation. It is suspended from a concrete block wall that gives onto a substantial parking lot belonging to the new YMCA in the Montreal borough of Cartierville. It was carried out within the framework of the Quebec government "Politique d’intégration des arts à l’architecture." The building was designed by the Montreal architects Daoust Lestage.



Parking
The sizable expanse of this tract and the prosaic activity that takes place within it required a spatial gesture that could somehow assert presence and contest set notions of where and how to look at art.



Mirroring and Stripes
Towards this end, the work reflects its ever-changing context, by making use of glass panels comprising a delicate filigree of transparent and mirrored stripes.



Tilting
The glass panels are tilted downward so that viewers may see themselves and their context reflected in the glass from up close and at a distance. And so people, cars, color, etc. become performers in, and therefore fundamental components of the work.



Welcome
The length of the long glass wall also folds inwards at its center, thus introducing a welcoming gesture that further gathers people and setting into the piece. Importantly, the fold also generates complex effects of reflection upon reflection.



Evening
The work is lit in the evening by the ambient light provided by preexisting lamp standards. It is also lit and transformed by intermittent flashes of blinking light originating from vehicular head lights.



Unpredictability
Papillon proposes a formally simple yet visually complex experience that is particularly sensitive to a public setting not normally associated with art. Due to changing conditions of natural and artificial light, the shifting of the clouds, rain and snow, as well as the movement of cars and people, the work transforms itself throughout the day, evenings and seasons. This unpredictability creates a richness of experience that is best understood via one’s movement through space in "real time."



Collaborators
Damien Heitz, Marco Joubert, Sébastien Riendeau, Elliot Sturtevant, Hal Ingberg



Structural Engineers
Luc Dumais of Dessau and Benoît Cloutier of CPA Verre structurel Inc.

Half Dose #110: The Drawing Center

This morning I visited The Drawing Center before its grand reopening reception this evening. (The reopening was postponed due to Hurricane Sandy, but unfortunately today's Nor'easter is hitting New York City with wind and snow.) The Soho-based institution's home was "reinvented" by WXY Architecture + Urban Design. Below are photos and impressions from my visit.



Like many tenants in Soho's historic cast iron district, it is easy to just walk right by The Drawing Center, not realizing what is inside. Four corinthian cast-iron columns frame the entrance and large pieces of storefront glass on the side that are labelled with the name of the institution and the current exhibitions. Aside from the necessity of dealing with the landmarks commission, this subtle presence seems appropriate to me, given that the subject of The Drawing Center—drawings, of course—situates the institution somewhere between the purely historical and the new constantly striving for attention.



Movement from the street to the galleries is via a lobby with a ticket counter and some books on display. Many of the titles displayed on custom shelves are the fantastic Drawing Papers, which are inexpensive titles focused on particular exhibitions or topics (I had to resist purchasing #94, Paul Rudolph: Lower Manhattan Expressway). The lobby is a good space for the transition from the public realm to the private realm (in terms of personally experiencing the artworks) beyond. Compare it to many galleries in Soho and Chelsea where visitors are confronted by the art directly upon entering. Here, the gallery is through some glass doors and around a wall that blocks views into the space (you'll have to take my word, since I don't have a good photo of that, at least not from the lobby side).



The main gallery is an open space that is Soho-like in the way the cast-iron columns march down the middle of the space. The walls of the main gallery are currently occupied by Guillermo Kuitca's Diarios, in which the artist "has taken failed and discarded canvases, stretched them over an abandoned table from his parents’ garden, and then spent periods of time ranging from three to six months creating intentional and accidental doodles, drawings, and recordings on their surfaces." Not surprisingly, I'm drawn to one that has what looks like a floor plan as its canvas:



The photo below is another view of the main gallery, but this time looking in the direction of the lobby. Note the partial-height wall in the center—the one I mentioned—around which people maneuver after walking through some glass doors. The latter are particularly important, because they further cut down on the sounds (and other things) of the city, helping to create a quiet and relaxed environment for experiencing the art.



At the rear of the building, just beyond the main gallery, is the "drawing room." The door leading to it is visible in the photo below. What is also apparent in the shot is the cove lighting that combines with the track lighting to brighten the walls on the sides of the space. This cove is the first of a few really nice details that I noticed.



Below is a close-up of the end of the cove light. The high ceiling appears to curve down to meet the edge of the wall below the low ceiling, which is articulated like a James Turrell Skyspace, where the edge looks like it doesn't have any thickness to it. Combined with what I'm guessing are small LED strip lights, the cove detail has the appearance of being all surface and light, though it's safe to say that a lot of complicated detailing and construction went into it.



The drawing room (below) is similar to the main gallery—white drywall, wood floors, perimeter lighting—but smaller. The appropriately petit artworks on display are José Antonio Suárez Londoño's The Yearbooks; some are shown in cases, but most are pinned to a wall below more cove lighting.



But the light on this back wall is actually natural light coming from a skylight that is out of sight. The curve of the main gallery's cove is here reversed, as the high ceiling curves down to the rear wall. Two or three feet below the high ceiling is the low ceiling with another knife-edge. Again, surface and light conceal the facts of construction.



One reason that the drawing room is its intimate size is that a stair is located between it and the main gallery. This straight-run stair leads down to the "the lab," where In Deed: Certificates of Authenticity in Art (a very meta and kind of odd topic) is on display. The wood stair is like a special object that is inserted into the drywall-lined opening:




Near the lobby, but tucked to the side by the elevator, is a second stair. Instead of wood, this one is steel, with concrete treads. It is a more utilitarian stair, but this does not mean that it is not as considered as the wood one, or like the coves for that matter. The guardrail is especially nice, made of one piece of roughly 1/2-inch-thick steel finished with a gray coating.



What is interesting about the stair is the way the pickets between the code-compliant 4-inch openings vary, going from narrow at the bottom to wide at the top. Like The Drawing Center itself, it's easy to miss this rhythm, but once you discover it (and The Drawing Center) you're better off for it.

Half Dose #109: Sasso San Gottardo

[All photographs by John Hill]

My onslaught of photos and projects from a recent trip to Switzerland is pretty much wrapped up, but one project that deserves some attention is Sasso San Gottardo, a "themed exhibition focuse[d] on the challenges of managing our resources." Hozler Kobler Architekturen is responsible for the design of the various environments inserted into the tunnels and caves of a former fortress at St. Gotthard Pass. Signs of the fortress are visible from the roadways near the pass, but these glimpses -- doors, sights, concrete masses camouflaged into the mountainside -- do not prepare for the experience inside.



After walking in the "front door," one needs to follow a long tunnel before coming to the first exhibition space. A small office is located about halfway between the entry and exhibition space, what is surely one of the oddest places for such a thing.



The "Energy" exhibit is the first one encountered. Most of it is housed in a room with old control panels and other artifacts juxtaposed with stationary cycles for powering fans and other interactive components. Above is a view into a small room housing wood balls in the configuration of one of those perpetual motion toys. Not all of the pieces are particularly enlightening nor successful in how they work, but the way everything is inserted into the original rooms is fantastic.



Further along is a space that features a vaulted concrete liner within a larger room (above); lighting in the interstitial space gives off a green glow that is visible from a distance along one of the tunnels. Hanging in the middle of the space is a metallic sculpture that maps every space within the mountain. Tracing how far my group had come in our visit, we realized that the exhibitions only scratch the surface of the circuit of tunnels and caves -- many kilometers were beyond what we'd traversed. In particular, the Armament and Garrison are historical sections open to the public, but they were unfortunately closed at the time of our visit.



The "Mobility and Living Space" room (above) is odd -- not for the metal-grid floor, moody lighting, and Lost-like countdown on the wall -- but because it is warm, where every other space is a constant cool that happens year-round.



The "Crystal" room (above) displays mountain crystals that were previously found in the area. The room itself is shaped similarly to the natural forms housed behind glass and illuminated from above.



The highlight of the exhibition is easily the large space that is split between "Weather and Climate" (above) and "Water". A 5mm layer of water covers most of the space, allowing visitors to "walk on water" on one side or tiptoe across colored steps on the other. In the center of the space is a model of a mountain set atop a map of Switzerland; water dripping from the ceiling trickles over the mountain, showing how water cascades from the peak and pass to different parts of the country.



Elsewhere are rooms, like those above and below, that are not as raw or natural in their finishes, but which nevertheless exhibit a historical patina. The larger space looks like it served as an office for the exhibition architects, but the way the old laptop, mouse, and even stapler are hot-glued to the desk makes it clear that it's just another display. Regardless, it's nice to see the architectural drawings on the wall after passing through the real thing.



Ultimately Sasso San Gottardo is a strange entity that is more fascinating for admission to the network of spaces built into the hillside than for the exhibitions on display. The latter do spur visitors to think about their relationship to resources like water, energy, and even the weather, but they are most successful when they exploit the potential of the tunnels and caves. For example, the dimming lights and the sound of water in the "Water" and "Weather of Climate" room accentuate the feeling of being inside a mountain, where resources are much more limited, and therefore where one's actions need to be considered more carefully.

Half Dose #108: Digital Water Pavilion

[Looking south at halfway point along curved wall | Photographs by John Hill]

Yesterday I found myself in Battery Park City (BPC), so I stopped by the Community Center designed by hanrahan Meyers architects (hMa) to see how construction was going. It appears that the Digital Water Pavilion (DWP), as the architects call it, is just about done.


[Looking north at halfway point along curved wall]

The low, curving pavilion sits in the North Neighborhood beneath two residential towers; together they comprise the last pieces in the whole BPC development. Facing east, overlooking a couple ball fields, is the curving wall -- 550 feet (167 meters) long. Curving walls are nothing new in BPC, but most of them (Riverhouse, Solaire, Visionaire, Ritz Carlton) derive their shape from the north-south roads that traverse the development (map for reference). The DWP's wall is more unprecedented, serving to shape the outdoor space, while also connecting points on the north and south (left and right in the below plan, respectively) through its gentle curve, rather than a straight line.


[Top: Digital Water Pavilion plan (source) | Bottom: Chiba Golf Club plan (source)]

I'm a huge fans of curves like this, and immediately the DWP reminds me of Morphosis's unbuilt Chiba Golf Club, shown above for reference. I don't think hMa were necessarily influenced by this project, but the way that each plan uses a curve to embrace an expansive landscape points to the potential in wide, sweeping arcs. Just think of the colonnades of St. Peter's Square as a distant precedent.


[The southernmost end of the 550-foot-long glass wall]

As mentioned, the wall aligns with something beyond (behind us in the photo), namely the public arcade between Goldman Sachs and the Conrad Hotel. This alignment, and the way that hMa's design creates lower and upper walkways, provides north-south pedestrian paths that link with other parts of BPC. One block further south, the arcade designed by Preston Scott Cohen aligns with the interior arcade of the World Financial Center.


[The northernmost end of the 550-foot-long glass wall]

The north end does not align with something like the public arcade, but if one were to head right in the photo a few steps away is Teardrop Park, a rugged landscape between a number of earlier Northern Neighborhood towers. The top and previous photos show an interesting detail: the glass wall detaches itself from the enclosed spaces at the ends, so it is propped up by steel bracing.


[The north garden tucked underneath the ramp to the upper level]


[Access to the upper walkway on the north end]



Ultimately the curve's relationship to the ball fields comes to the fore. On the upper level (photo above), the benches face them and become a place for parents and fans to watch soccer and baseball. Downstairs, the fields constrict the space next to the "water wall" (so called because it is "a patterned interpretation of a composition, ‘WATER’, commissioned from New York City composer Michael Schumacher") through the necessary protective nets and the cages around home plate.


[Looking south from near north courtyard]

Half Dose #107: New England Conservatory

[All images (c) Ann Beha Architects / Gensler]

Boston's Ann Beha is an architect versed in historic restoration and contemporary architecture, a rare breed. Many people see these as polar concerns without common ground, but Beha's work acknowledges old buildings without letting them determine a recipe for new additions. Or to put it another way, she neither mimics nor overpowers existing buildings, instead finding qualities that should be extended in a new intervention, such as scale, texture, and materiality. The New England Conservatory's first building in over 60 years is a good example of her contemporary contextualism.



Per the architect's statement, the New England Conservatory "occupies 2.5 acres and offers undergraduate and graduate degree programs, a continuing education program, and a preparatory program for students ages 3-18." Beha is no stranger to the music institution, having restored Jordan Hall, the core of the campus in Boston's East Fenway district. The two-phase, new-construction project will demolish two existing buildings and be located adjacent to Jordan Hall, the building at right in the above photo and sketch. Beha's proposal aligns her design with this landmark building, both in terms of scale and alignment, but the top watercolor shows that the new building opens itself up where the old one is primarily closed off from the street.



As mentioned, the project is comprised of two phases. The taller piece in the model, and the low front engaging it, are phase one: the Student Life and Performance Center (student residences, dining hall, library, practice and performance faciliities). Groundbreaking on this part is planned for next year. Phase two is the smaller portion at left, an Academic Center with offices, practice rooms, and a black box theater. The watercolor sketch below offers a similar angle to the model above.





One thing striking about the design is the means of presentation. Watercolors are not a fairly common medium anymore, given the ease with which architects can produce realistic computer renderings. Of course, the latter run the risk of draining the unexpected from the design process, meaning that watercolors offer the potential for change, or at least room for development as a building moves toward reality. I wouldn't be surprised if computer renderings follow later this year or next year, though, as they are effective tools for fundraising, an extremely important concern with institutions these days.



Watercolors also allow modern/contemporary designs to go down a little easier, if you will. Boston is a city proud of its historic buildings, so new insertions like this one by Beha with associate architect Gensler are ripe for opposition. Renderings that are softer than computer-generated ones, and which exhibit the delineator's hand rather than the architect's ability to manipulate layers in Photoshop, help to convince people that forward-thinking designs have a place in the contemporary city, even when sitting by historic landmarks.