Plans for the first skyscraper that can disappear

Construction is expected to begin soon on a South Korean skyscraper that could hide itself:

[T]he world’s first disappearing skyscraper has just been approved for construction for the Incheon International Airport area outside Seoul, South Korea. No date is given as the projected completion yet, but according to Architizer, Tower Infinity, designed by GDS Architects, will rise 450 meters (1476.38 feet) in the air and feature “a cutting-edge LED façade system that allows visual information behind the skyscraper to be captured and simultaneously projected from the tower’s surface.” The building, in turn, will “blend into the background like an enormous, crystalline chameleon.”

Tower Infinity, which will be filled not with residences but with “entertainment and leisure purposes,” will have the third highest observation deck in the world, and its the exterior can also be used as a giant screen to project photos or movies. Despite its massive, thunderous stature—the architects believe that the primary function of the skyscraper, which they’ve nicknamed the “Anti-Landmark,” is to “celebrate the global community rather than focus on itself.” They write: “Instead of symbolizing prominence as another of the world’s tallest and best towers, our solution aims to provide the World’s first invisible tower, showcasing innovative Korean technology while encouraging a more Global narrative in the process.”

Whether Tower Infinity is “a magical piece of technological ingenuity, or a cynical new branch of architectural exhibitionism,” as Architizer puts it, one thing’s for sure: the $28B “Dream Hub,” a minicity of architectural experimentation composed of buildings by Daniel Libekind, Foster + Partners, Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, among others, as well as a rather controversial number by MVRDV, probably won’t happen in Seoul.

It will be interesting to see how this type of facade will be deployed. Imagine a regular show where the building lights up and then suddenly disappears. In a less urban area or if the backdrop is conducive, the building could disappear to be replaced by a scene of nature. Or, the LCD facade might be used as a giant advertising screen. Perhaps new regulations and codes have to be developed by urban municipalities to limit what the building might do.

But, I can’t help thinking the building has a future in action movies, perhaps the James Bond or Mission: Impossible series, as the centerpiece in some bizarre plot.

American colleges have Gothic architecture because they wanted to be linked to English universities, make clear their intellectual heritage

American colleges adopted Gothic architecture to make statements about their connections to the past as well as to other well-known schools:

American universities had always treasured the influence of Oxford and Cambridge. The colleges that would become the Ivy League were meant to model the Oxbridgian ideal of constructing a college around a quadrangle. In practice, though, American colleges of the 18th century were quite different. They were more devoted to scholarship than their British brethren. They were disconnected from a university. And they were poorer: Often, they didn’t have enough money to complete a ring of buildings around their quad…

“What Gothic meant changed depending on the time,” Johanna Seasonwein, a fellow at Princeton University Art Museum, told me. When Victorians emulated Gothic, they did it sloppily, mixing styles and idioms. “Something Islamic, something Byzantine,” might get thrown in there, says Seasonwein. This was the Victorian Gothic of the 1860s and ‘70s: a mishmash.

Collegiate Gothic, which followed Victorian Gothic, was much more precise. It emulated Oxford and Cambridge more directly.

There’s even a patient zero, of sorts, of Collegiate Gothic. In 1894, Bryn Mawr commissioned a new building, Pembroke. Its interpretation of Gothic so inspired other schools that they commissioned similar plans from the architects which designed the hall. (That firm, Stewardson & Cope, wound up constructing a near-copy of Pembroke on Princeton’s campus, where it’s called Blair Hall.)…

Collegiate Gothic was not a naive emulation, though. The Gothic revival “was just as much saying who was accepted in this atmosphere [of the college] as who was not,” says Seasonwein. Universities were expanding, and welcoming new students, but they were still mostly populated by WASPy men. Before the 1890s, many college presidents would have resisted a filigreed medieval style for fear it would look too “papist.”

Woodrow Wilson, when president of Princeton, has a now-famous quote about the revival: “By the very simple device of building our new buildings in the Tudor Gothic style we seem to have added a thousand years to the history of Princeton,” he said. Normally, the quote is truncated there, but in fact it continues: “…by merely putting those lines in our buildings which point every man’s imagination to the historical traditions of learning in the English-speaking race.” (Emphasis mine.)

All together, this is a good reminder that an architectural style we associate with a particular set of activities didn’t necessarily have to be. Social forces pushed colleges to adopt a particular architecture and they assumed this design communicated key messages.

The examples of collegiate Gothic cited in this article tend to be from elite Northeast and Midwest institutions. So does this architecture today still function in a similar manner, clearly demarcating these campuses as a cut above the rest? Other kinds of colleges, perhaps marked by region or the year they were founded or the students they serve, might have intentionally adopted other architectural styles to communicate other messages. Let’s say we wanted to look at the architecture of community colleges. I suspect more of them are post-World War II institutions that more modernist and functional architecture. What exactly does this communicate? Some counterfactuals might be interesting to look at as well: the community college with more traditional architecture or the elite school, like a Caltech, that has a different architectural style.

New York’s skyline and buildings on 9/11 and today

This set of photos compares New York’s skyline and buildings on September 11, 2001 to its current state. As you might expect, there is still quite a bit of construction going on. But, after a flurry of conversation in the years after 9/11 about how New York would rebuild, I have heard little in recent years about how this all might transform these spaces in New York City. The new One World Trade Center Place – the Freedom Tower – is interesting but how will it fit in with the surrounding neighborhood, fit in with New York’s skyline, and change New York’s identity?

Restricting McMansions, aka “White Whales”

This story of trying to change zoning regulations to avoid teardown McMansions is fairly standard – but it also includes a new name for McMansions: “white whales.”

Residents in East Rockville are considering creating what’s known as a neighborhood conservation district in an effort to curb mansionization—the proliferation of large homes that seem like mismatches among the smaller ones that surround them, including an East Rockville residence derisively referred to as “The White Whale.”…

East Rockville is mostly comprised of single-family homes built in the early 1940s and during the World War II housing boom. But despite the city’s revised zoning code in 2009, developers have still been able to build massive residences—many of them functioning as rentals for multiple families—that just seem out of character in East Rockville, neighbors complain.

East Rockville residents have publicly voiced their concerns over preserving the integrity of their neighborhood, having testified at Rockville City Council meetings and writing letters to city officials…

Meanwhile, the city council has been discussing the problem, but can’t seem to agree on how to go about fixing it—preserving property owner’s rights, attempting to legislate taste, and other unintended consequences are only a few of the issues complicating things.

I have not heard this term for McMansions before. The photo accompanying the story portrays one of these “white whales” and it is indeed large. But, there are a couple of issues here:

1. Size is one issue. Lots of teardown controversies involve this. From this one photo, it looks like this is a large house and it also is large compared to nearby homes.

2. A second issue is the actual look of the house. When using white to describe the home, I presume critics are referring to the rather bland front dominated by white siding. Building guidelines can suggest certain styles and design elements. Interestingly, one critique of McMansions is that they their exteriors are too odd, perhaps mixing architectural styles, perhaps utilizing features and materials not found in the region, perhaps having ill-proportioned features. Neighborhoods likely want to set an “appropriate” design that isn’t too outlandish but isn’t that bland.

If you won’t want your neighbors to build a “white whale,” what color plus animal name would you prefer they build? We need a catchy alternative…

Another note: the Urban Dictionary has several definitions for “white whale.” The first doesn’t necessarily cast the McMansion opponents in the most positive light: “Something you obsess over to the point that it nearly or completely destroys you. An obsession that becomes your ultimate goal in life; one that your life now completely encircles and defines you.” The second might be more to McMansion opponents’ liking: “Term used to describe an opponent/nemesis who is extremely difficult to defeat. The term can also apply to miscellaneous games or events which are difficult to master.”

 

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When a new building can melt cars, the building is not a good neighbor

Here is a story out of London of a new impressive-looking glass building that has an unfortunate side effect: it focuses the sun on a nearby area and causes destruction.

A new London skyscraper that reflects sunlight at an intensity capable of melting parts of a car became the latest attraction in the city’s financial district on Tuesday as the developers acted to find a quick fix.

The glass-clad tower, dubbed the Walkie Talkie for its distinctive flared shape, was blamed this week for warping the wing mirror, panels and badge on a Jaguar car parked on the street below the 37-storey building that is under construction.

Business owners opposite 20 Fenchurch Street pointed to sun damage on paintwork on the front of their premises and carpet burns. TV crews fried an egg in the sun beam reflected from a concave wall of the tower watched by bemused spectators…

The architect is Uruguayan-born Rafael Vinoly and the building’s concave design means developers can squeeze more money from its larger upper floors, where the views over London promise to be magnificent and rents are higher.

It is not the first time a Vinoly building has been linked to intense rays of sunlight. The Vdara Hotel in Las Vegas allegedly produced intense areas of heat, according to reports in U.S. media three years ago.

Perhaps there is room to wax about humanity’s attempts to tame nature and yet we can’t even master the angle of the sun’s rays.

But, this would also be a good time to note that buildings don’t exist in isolation to their surroundings. I remember talking with an architect a few years ago and talking about how architects might think about the larger social fabric, not just the footprint of their specific development. There is a lot of work that goes into designing big buildings but that can be for naught if the building sticks out from the surrounding area. This doesn’t mean all buildings have to be of the same design or look the same; fitting into particular styles is one part of it (think of the similarities of the tallest buildings in Chicago’s skyline) but so is whether the building is inviting to people passing by. New Urbanists make this argument: Americans have tended to stress the private realm of single-family homes but homes can also be oriented to the neighborhood, helping to promote social interaction through some design choices. Does the new building contribute to or detract from public spaces? This is particularly important in dense urban spaces – London definitely qualifies – where space is at a premium.

If your building is burning nearby areas or blocks the sunlight in drastic ways or presents a monolithic front to what was a lively street, then the building is not being a good neighbor. Looks and maximizing floor space aren’t everything; there is a social dimension to buildings that goes a long way toward whether the building is well regarded for decades or not.

Making art out of “McMansion doors”

Making art of McMansions is not that unusual in recent years but specifically focusing on their doors is:

How housing became a commodity — and what ultimately led to the housing crisis in America — is the theme of a new work of art by Koumoundouros. It’s on view at the Hammer Museum, and is called the “Dream Home Resource Center.”

But it might not be what you typically think of as art.

Two giant doors enclose the exhibit. They once belonged to a McMansion in nearby Orange County, but have since been repainted in rainbow colors by Koumoundouros. Inside the clear glass walls, it’s actually a pretty white spare room — with a few striking differences. To the left, a giant whiteboard is updated weekly with statistics on the economy — from the most recent homeless population numbers to news about the Detroit bankruptcy filing. Wrapping around the rest of the room: a rainbow timeline following different threads, all piecing together what housing looks like in America today.

The most unusual aspect of the exhibit sits dead center in the room: An informational booth. Here, the artist curated a number of guests — from real estate brokers to homeless rights activists.

There may be other features of the typical McMansion that receive more attention: the undulating roof lines, the foyers, the stucco or fake stone or fake brick finishes. But, the humble door doesn’t get as much attention. An interior door might be a six-panel dark wood door or perhaps a french door, such as between a den and a great room. The exterior door is likely to be a large one, double-wide, ornate or with plenty of glass, and proportionately fitting the outsized foyer which may include two stories, pillars, and surrounding windows.

All that said, I’m not sure there is a single image of a “McMansion door.” The Soprano McMansion had a double set of double doors – a vestibule sat in between – with frosted glass. Cynics might note that the garage doors on McMansions might actually be more important.

Is this Beverly Grove (LA) home a McMansion?

As debates continue over McMansions in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Beverly Grove, Curbed LA takes a look at one home for sale in the neighborhood and a brief yet lively discussion ensues in the comments on whether the home is a McMansion. Here is the description of the home (and plenty of pictures to help you arrive at your own conclusion):

Just in time for the City Planning Commission’s vote on an anti-mansionization ordinance for the Beverly Grove neighborhood, this fine specimen hits the market. It looks like just the thing neighborhood activists are trying to prevent, though since no square footage is given, we can’t be absolutely sure. Taking the place of an (admittedly unlovely) 1927 house, this typically boxy number–or “modern, cutting edge and rearranged design with retro reclaimed wood accents,” depending on your perspective–has four bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms. Like so many of the new houses in this area, there’s an openish floor plan, loggia, small pool and spa, a nice array of balconies, and name-brand kitchen. It also seems to have kinda low ceilings upstairs, but maybe that’s just the pictures playing tricks. It’s on the market for $2.799 million.

Not having the square footage means an important piece of information is missing. Here are a few of the comments on whether the home is a McMansion (each new paragraph is a new commenter:

Normally I’d be banging the drum for keeping the neighborhoods original in style and scale, but I don’t think this one is too bad — it at least has some visual interest and doesn’t seem too overbuilt for the lot — wouldn’t object if this were my neighborhood…

Let’s not go crazy with calling anything larger than average a McMansion. It may be out of scale, but it doesn’t use mismatched home depot pre-fabbed design elements…

This house is at the high end of the lot to improvement ratio for Beverly Grove – its not over improved. But, this type of concrete and glass, shoe box design is just not appealing! Just look at the house across the street in the view photo. It has all kinds of architectural finishings that appeal to the eye, clay tile roof line, arched carports, corner rotunda, custom picture window etc…. This house looks like the lego house my son built when he was 4. Maybe that’s why its appealing to some, it resembles the lego structures built during childhood! I don’t blame the neighbors for being pissed!

The discussion primarily focuses on the design of the home. Since it doesn’t seem unnecessarily large or take up all of the lot, a number of people commented for or against its unique modern style. On one hand, it seems cohesively modern, not a mish-mash of styles for which McMansions are often criticized. On the other hand, it does appear different from the other homes of the neighborhood (of which we have one picture).

One takeaway: the term McMansion can be used as a pejorative term for a home one doesn’t like even if it doesn’t fit the “classic” definition of a McMansion.

Two minutes to sum up Le Corbusier, Bauhaus, and Herman Miller

Refresh your architectural knowledge with these short videos on the influential works of Le Corbusier, Bauhaus, and Herman Miller.

I’ve asked this before: where in a K-college curriculum does a typical American student learn about modern architecture and design? I remember learning about Greek and Roman architecture in Western Civilization in high school. But, I don’t remember ever formally learning about more modern developments. I suppose some of this could be taught in art classes at older ages or in history courses. For example, it is hard to ignore the development of the skyscraper in American history in the late 1800s and early 1900s but this could easily be taught more from an angle about industry and progress rather than aesthetics and urban planning.

Because of this question, my urban sociology course this past spring semester spent several weeks discussing architecture and urban planning. All together, we read Jane Jacobs’ The Death and Life of Great American Cities, talked about New Urbanism, took a Chicago Architecture Foundation walking tour titled “Modern Skyscrapers (1950s-present),” and watched several episodes about sustainable design and development in the PBS e2 series. This led to some good discussions about the social life and role of buildings and urban design.

h/t Curbed National

Building Gulf Coast houses on 10-20 foot stilts

Federal regulations regarding building on flood areas on the Gulf Coast have led to a new kind of up-in-the-air house:

I’ve visited the Mississippi Gulf Coast at odd intervals since Hurricane Katrina struck almost eight years ago, and have been keeping tabs on an emerging architectural typology. Ordinary suburban-style neocolonials and ranch houses are being jacked up on sturdy wooden or concrete piers ten or 20 feet in the air, the heights dictated by the Base Flood Elevation set by the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and enforced by insurance companies. These houses fascinate me because most of them make few concessions to the fact that they’re not built at grade. They look as if someone has played a cruel joke on the owners, as if the family had gone out to dinner and come back to find their house out of reach…

I know a little about the prehistory of these houses. About six weeks after Katrina, the then-governor of Mississippi, Haley Barbour, invited New Urbanist architect supreme Andrés Duany to bring pretty much everyone he knew to Biloxi to envision a rebirth of the storm-ravaged Gulf Coast. The Mississippi Renewal Forum, as it was called, filled a giant ballroom of the Isle of Capri casino with some 200 industrious, inspired architects, planners, and engineers, all champions of pedestrian-oriented development.

But after several feverish days of dream-ing up antebellum casinos and neoclassical Walmarts, reality intruded. In the wee hours of day four, the conference leadership received the newest flood maps for the Gulf Coast from FEMA, and they showed Base Flood Elevations that were five to ten feet higher than those the designers had been working with. In the Velocity Zones, areas most likely to be impacted by a storm surge, the lowest habitable floor of a home suddenly had to be 21 feet in the air.

“I think the problem is totally recalibrating the aesthetic,” Duany said, leading an emergency meeting. “It’s not taking antebellum houses and cranking them up. The aesthetic has more to do with lighthouses.” While others in the room pointed out the political and economic ramifications of the flood map—some towns might not be able to rebuild at all, poor people would be driven off the coast for good—Duany was nonchalant. “It will be like Tahiti,” he said. “Totally cool.”

It is worth reading the rest as it discusses how such stilted homes make it really difficult to have the close community life desired by New Urbanists. On one hand, I imagine some sort of community will develop if all the homes share the same fate. At the least, they all become known as the people who live in the odd houses. On the other hand, being so high in the air may reinforce the notion that Americans care more about their private spaces – within their homes – than street life and the community.

One odd bonus of a home so far in the air: imagine the size of the vehicle that could fit below.

Destroying city buildings with no debris

The New York Times highlights new techniques for “stealth demolition” so that large urban buildings can be demolished with little mess:

At times the techniques seem to defy gravity, or at least common sense, for although the buildings appear intact, they slowly shrink. The methods, which make for a cleaner and quieter work site, may eventually find favor in New York and other cities as aging skyscrapers become obsolete and the best solution is to take them down and rebuild.

The latest Tokyo high-rise to get the stealth treatment is the Akasaka Prince Hotel, a 40-story tower with a distinctive saw-toothed facade overlooking one of the city’s bustling commercial districts. Since last fall, its steel and concrete innards have been torn apart, floor by floor, starting near the top, by hydraulic shears and other heavy equipment. The building has been shrinking by about two floors every 10 days; this month it will be gone, to be replaced by two new towers…

The cap helps keep noise and dust down compared with more conventional methods of demolishing tall buildings, which involve erecting a scaffold all the way up and around the structure but leaving the top exposed. “All the work is inside the covered area,” Mr. Ichihara said. “The noise level is 20 decibels lower than the conventional way, and there’s 90 percent less dust leaving the area.”…

It is unclear whether demolition contractors in the United States will adopt any of the Japanese methods; even in Tokyo many buildings are demolished in more conventional ways. (With the new techniques, setting up the project can be more expensive, but the demolition often takes less time than with conventional methods.)

We put a lot of effort into thinking about how buildings are constructed but less effort in thinking about how to effectively repurpose them or tear them down. Perhaps the owners of many new buildings aren’t terribly concerned with the long-term prospects of a building but the buildings aren’t just about the initial occupants and become part of a community.

Just a quick thought: with the relatively slow pace of demolition, how many people who see these large buildings day-to-day notice the demolition? I suspect for some that the building will disappear and they won’t notice until the end.