The Royal Ontario Museum extension by Daniel Libeskind, image by The City of Toronto. Image via 99% Invisible
All architects desire recognition of their built work; for their signature design style to be identified, or for the quality of materials and details to outshine those around it. Unfortunately, if every new architectural structure was to insert itself into its context looking to be the star, soon it would become impossible to gauge the civic relevance of the area. Some buildings, such as Daniel Libeskind‘s Jewish Museum, appear dislocated with due cause, but others stand out for the sake of standing out, turning their back on their rich historical setting.
While there can be no singular strategy for contextual integration, Kurt Kohlstedt argues that a consideration of historical context, whether eventually chosen to acquiesce with or deny, will result in richer and more engaging built environment. In his latest essay for 99% Invisible, Kohlstedt unpacks the myriad ways in which a new building can engage with what was there before, highlighting examples which successfully and unsuccessfully take up the challenge. He acknowledges the difficulty of finding the sweet spot, as many designs are unable to navigate the “fine line between contextual and contemporary.”
In his article, Kohlstedt explains that it’s not hard to draw up examples of buildings that are so contemporary they sit disjunctively within their surroundings. Much of Libeskind’s oeuvre, including his Royal Ontario Museum and the Jewish Museum in Berlin, appear foreign against the backdrop of heritage buildings. In both cases, the differentiation of the new building is justified by a program contained within the extension. The shock of their presence contributed to their status as icons, as their innovative form creates a wave of public response. Within their immediate landscape, they are obviously new and are not encroached by a landscape of competing icons.
Louvre Pyramid at night by Benh LIEU SONG. Image via 99% Invisible
Kohlstedt goes on about how the new building phenomenon is especially apparent in Paris, where structures such as the Eiffel Tower and I.M. Pei‘s Louvre extension were initially abhorred, but public interest over time has seen them canonized. This could be seen as a version of the “Bilbao Effect,” in reference to Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum catalyzing a wave of interest and tourism to the Spanish city of Bilbao. While architecture can become iconic by the newness of their form and expression, if the same attempts at iconicism are constantly occurring without awareness of their impact or transition then it results in an unconsidered cityscape.
Extremism can be just as damaging when concerning mimicry as it is with exhibitionism. If a building tries too hard to “fit in” it may become nothing more than a crude copy of its surroundings. Kohlstedt asserts that “rote historical mimicry and facadism can be problematic as well for the legibility of a city,” as building in bygone styles begins to create a city of replicas rather than relevant structures.
P Mill City Museum (left) with adjacent Humbolt Lofts in Minneapolis, image by Kurt Kohlstedt. Image via 99% Invisible
Fortunately, if there are two ends of the extremism spectrum, between them lie infinite possibilities in terms of successful integration or visibility. Within his essay, Kohlstedt identifies several key projects which manage to navigate their context in ways which enrich rather than detract. All of these projects show an awareness of the historical stratification which occurs when people can discern the oldness or newness value of their surrounds, and form a logical response to the problems at hand.
As a token of his love, Russian architect, designer, and writer Vasily Klyukin is presenting the field of architecture with roses, specifically, with his new design, Roses Pavilion.
Inspired by the beauty and presence of the flowers, Klyukin has conceptualized a pavilion made of glass and metal shaped like a bouquet of roses. Here, variations in interior lighting will change the color of the bouquet—whether red, yellow, or a variety of shades—according to desire and mood.
Courtesy of Vasily Klyukin
Inside, the space is envisioned to house a flower shop, spa, modern art house, or jewelry museum. With any of these programs, visitors would be “full of flowers,” as the ventilation system will fill the building with the scent of roses.
Courtesy of Vasily Klyukin
Courtesy of Vasily Klyukin
Courtesy of Vasily Klyukin
Currently, there are no plans to build Roses Pavilion, but “if it finds a plot of land,” it could be a reality, says Klyukin. “Otherwise, this concept will forever remain a set of pictures, but it will probably inspire someone to implement their own artistic design.”
Our project team developed a concrete building based on the existing basis of volumes. The main windows are coated with a wood skin based in surrounding colors and materials.
In the late 1970s, the Government of India launched an initiative to build in every state capital an institution to celebrate the cultural and creative output of the nation. Although the scheme was largely unsuccessful, one shining example remains: Bharat Bhavan (‘India House’), located in Bhopal.
Designed by Indian architectural luminary Charles Correa, this multi-arts center first opened its doors in 1982. More than thirty years later, it continues to house a variety of cultural facilities and play host to multitude of arts events. The design of the complex is a product of Correa’s mission to establish a modern architectural style specific to India and distinct from European Modernism. Drawing on the plentiful source material provided by the rich architectural heritage of his home country, at Bharat Bhavan Correa produced a building for the modern era which manages to also remain firmly rooted in the vernacular traditions of India’s past.
Built into a hillside which slopes down toward a lake, a series of terraces and courtyards comprise the complex. Upon entering, the visitor has the choice of following the path of terraces cascading down to the lake, or descending to the three courtyards which provide access to the majority of the cultural facilities. These include contemporary art galleries, a museum of tribal art, an auditorium, a library of Indian poetry, a print shop, and a studio for an artist-in-residence. From the courtyards, wide glass-paneled openings to the buildings ensure the arts program is both literally and figuratively accessible to all. At the bottom of the site sits an amphitheater, where open-air performances take place with the lake forming a natural backdrop.
The route through the terraces encourages movement down the site’s natural gradient, with the courtyards providing tranquil spaces for rest and relaxation. The dialogue between these two components creates an ebb and flow of energy around the complex, in what Correa described as a “Ritualistic Pathway”. The ritual of following a sacred pathway is, he claims, “a universal impulse, found in all cultures and religions.”[1] Correa emphasized the spirituality of his own pathways by drawing parallels with those found in religious architecture, including “the sun temples of Mexico” and the Hindu temples of Bali “with their ritualistic pathways up the hillside.”[2]
Correa also noted secular examples of the Ritualistic Pathway, such as the palace city of Fatehpur Sikri and Le Corbusier’s promenade architecturale, though he claimed the latter was merely “a ‘secular’ phrase to express what is in reality a deep and sacred instinct.”[3] At Bharat Bhavan, the flights of stairs between the terraces reference traditional Indian architecture while implying the sanctity of the pathway. The stairs are reminiscent of ghats; steps found in Indian cities which lead down to a body of holy water, just as Correa’s steps guide the pedestrian to the lakeside. Indeed, Correa cited the bathing ghats on the bank of the River Ganges at Varanasi as a stylistic influence.[4] At Bharat Bhavan the steps guide the pedestrian to the lakeside; the religious connotations emphasizing the sacred nature of this pathway.
European Modernism, and in particular that of Le Corbusier, had heavily influenced modern architecture in India for much of the 20th century. Correa was somewhat wary of this trend, and criticized Le Corbusier’s Palace of the Assembly at Chandigarh for being poorly ventilated, insufficiently lit, and wholly unsuitable for India’s hot and humid climate.[5] Correa’s architecture, conversely, is shaped by its environment, with climate control a primary concern in his design process. Indeed, this was often a necessity, as much of his early work consisted of projects for squatter housing, where inhabitants did not have the means to pay for air-conditioning and were forced to rely on the building itself to regulate temperature.
Rather than importing the “sealed boxes” of European architecture, necessitated by the colder Western climate, instead Correa created “open-to-sky spaces.”[6] He observed that “in a warm climate, the best place to be in the late evenings and in the early mornings is outdoors, under the open sky.”[7] The sunken courtyards at Bharat Bhavan provide shade from the scorching midday sun, while the raised terraces offer refreshing air and space at cooler times of day. This climate-control solution was lifted directly from India’s architectural history, inspired by the courtyards and terraces of the Red Fort at Agra.[8]
The sky held a spiritual power and mythical significance for Correa, who described it as “the abode of the gods” and “the source of light – which is the most primordial of stimuli acting on our senses.”[9] He aimed to harness the power of the sky to create a metaphysical experience through architecture, proclaiming that “there is nothing so profoundly moving as stepping out into an open-to-sky space and feeling the great arch of the sky above.”[10]
At Bharat Bhavan, the intention is that those emerging from the galleries to the courtyards undergo a similarly dramatic spatial experience. The sky is even incorporated into the interior spaces of the site, with concrete ‘shells’ atop the structure allowing light and air to pour in through their circular openings. From the exterior, these shells seem to reinterpret another feature of India’s architectural vocabulary: the decorative chattris (‘umbrellas’) which originally sat atop Rajasthani palaces.
The outdoor spaces at Bharat Bhavan are physical manifestations of the concept of “Empty Space,” a recurring theme both in India’s visual culture and, in particular, its philosophy.[11] Away from the activity within the buildings, the courtyards provide a contemplative void, enhanced by the placing of sculptures in their center. These act a meditative focal point for the viewer, much like the solitary tree often found in the center of Japanese courtyards. Correa’s characteristic use of the void as an architectural tool has been widely described as ‘non-building’. He marveled at the expressive potency of nothingness, reflecting that it is “strange indeed that since the beginning of time, Man has always used the most inert of materials, like brick and stone, steel and concrete, to express the invisibilia that so passionately move him.”[12]
The long-term success of Bharat Bhavan is largely due to its enduring popularity with local residents. The courtyards create communal public space, with the steps around their peripheries providing articulated seating for residents to meet and socialize. The terraces have proven popular with families, who spend their evenings promenading down to the water’s edge and enjoying the cultural offerings of the complex.[13] In creating a building well-suited to the needs of contemporary society while making use of familiar architectural motifs, Correa manages to reconcile modernity with tradition; a significant step towards his goal of establishing a distinctly Indian Modernism.
References [1] Correa, Charles. “Snail Trail”. In Irena Murray. Charles Correa: India’s Greatest Architect. RIBA: London, 2013. P.6 [2] Correa, Charles. “A Place in the Sun”. In A Place in the Shade: The New Landscape and Other Essays. Hatje Cantz: Ostfildern, 2012. p.19 [3] Ibid. Correa. p.7 [4] Correa, Charles. “Blessings of the Sky”. In Kenneth Frampton. Charles Correa. Thames and Hudson: London, 1996. p.25 [5] Correa, Charles. “The Assembly at Chandigarh”. In A Place in the Shade: The New Landscape and Other Essays. Hatje Cantz: Ostfildern, 2012. p.13 [6] Ibid. Correa. “Blessings of the Sky”. p.25 [7] Ibid. p.18 [8] Ibid. Correa. “Snail Trail”. p.6 [9] Ibid. Correa. “Blessings of the Sky”. p.28 [10] Correa, Charles. Housing and Urbanisation. Thames and Hudson: London, 2000. p.7 [11] Murray, Irena. Charles Correa: India’s Greatest Architect. RIBA: London, 2013. p.22 [12] Ibid. Correa. “Blessings of the Sky”. p.27 [13] Frampton, Kenneth. Charles Correa. Thames and Hudson: London, 1996. p.45
From the architect. Stanbrook Abbey is a new home for the Conventus of Our Lady of Consolation, a Benedictine community of nuns who devote their lives to study, work and prayer. Relocating from their old Victorian home in Worcestershire, the nuns’ contemplative way of life required spaces that were simple, tranquil and beautiful, or as they put it in their monastic vision brief – a place where they could ‘pray always’.
Located in the North York Moors National Park the new site was chosen by the nuns for its “special quality of silence and light” providing them with a peaceful setting for their contemplative life and far-reaching views over the Vale of York.
Floor Plan
The project was completed over two phases. Phase I, completed in 2009, included 26 new private cells for the nuns along the southern edge of the site, shared kitchen and dining facilities and work rooms. Phase II, completed in 2015, involved the construction of the new Community Church and Chapel, the Chapter House and guest spaces.
Using a delicate palette of materials and innovative structural solutions we have created a set of spaces that are both inspiring in their visual connections to the surrounding landscape, and simple in their practical details.
Taking full advantage of natural light and views, the monastery relates closely to the surrounding undulating landscape. The Nuns’ brief also requested a modern monastery which was economic to run and ecologically sensitive in design.
From the architect. The house is located in a residential neighborhood in Nova Oeiras in the Oeiras district, a neighborhood with a modernist urbanism, which is a great example of the concept called “garden city”. This neighborhood has an area of houses built in spacious plots, each with a leafy garden.
The house appeared a bit unbalanced in its design. On the main façade[AA1] we had an interesting equilibrium with a porch and a balcony, but the rear façade had no valuable elements.
The extension consists in building a new volume attached to the rear façade of the old house, extending the house through the garden redesigning its backyard façade.
In this new volume that extends the house, appears as a piece of contemporary architecture. To maintain the identity of the house, we reproduced from the porch, a hexagonal tile pattern to coat the new volume.
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You can see the pattern also on the sliding grates of the existing windows; this unifies both old and new, parts of the house.
We planned this enlargement of the main house as an autonomous and distinct volume but, at the same time, with a common element to both the original and the new construction.
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On the ground floor we created a spacious living room with a wide view to the garden. The kitchen contiguous but separated from the living room, enjoys the same great view as well through its large glass sliding doors.
From the lower step of the staircase to the right façade, we enlarged the window frame creating one single big glass screen. With this solution we gave natural light to the staircase, underlining its vertical amplitude.
The story began in 2015 while we were doing a construction in Di Linh Highland. Our Uncle helped us look for the materials for the construction, which was our big problem in this rural area (that house also has an interesting story, we’ll tell you later). For many times searching for materials together, we talked more and more about our own future plans and passions. Nothing happened until a few days later he came back and shared his concerns and his plans for a new house…
Living with his wife, his son and his daughter, he spent everyday from early morning to late night at a small booth in the local market, selling rubber shoes and clothes. The kids grow up in the environment only within the busy and bustling market. Their daily activities were nothing else but the games on technology devices. He realized that they might have no chance to experience an amazing childhood in the arms of Mother Nature as he had before.
Ground Floor Plan
Mezzanine Floor Plan
That was the reason why he planned to sell his old house, and then moved to a place which was a little bit far away from the central. He wanted to have a real home for his family. His desired home was the new home which was not only fulfilled with laughter and joy of his children, but peaceful enough for him to recall his sweet memories in his childhood. Two kids were born in the urban area already, now it’s time for them to completely grow up in the connection with nature.
Understanding his concerns, we designed and built this house.
The new land is located next to the highway that made our project more challenging. How to solve the problems with noise and dust from the highway became the most important thing for us to think about.
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Uncle’s House reflects featured image of Di Linh Plateau, using a wide range of traditional as well as modern materials. All are processed just enough to maintain the nature of material itself. The tile walls proved their power when keeping the house warm at nights and cool during the sunny days. They especially recall the owners to their very old moments living peacefully in a Vietnamese village when they were young. Light also has its own story in this cozy house. Here the kids can spend their time to climb on the tree, draw on the rock, grow vegetables with their mom and take care of the fish right in their own yard, which they cannot found in the modern society nowadays.
Umeda Hospital is as well-known obstetrician-gynecologist practice about ‘Declaration of breast’ that aims for child-birth and child-rearing, in a kind and friendly manifest to people and the natural environment. The hospital led by Dr. Kaoru Umeda, is certified by UNICEF as one of ‘’The Hospitals Friendly to Babies‘’.
Dr. Umeda attaches importance to breastfeeding and cuddling. To best reflect his human philosophy in the architecture, we used wood in many places to express warmth and comfort. The signage by Kenya Hara is printed on pieces of cloth and covers boards and posts in the hospital, and can be taken off for washing just like clothes, which works well to soften the atmosphere of the hospital.
An unconventional hybrid comprised of an art center, retail outlets, restaurants and private residences forms a new “Arts Oasis” in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Designed by Nabil Gholam Architects, the project was shortlisted as a finalist in Commercial Mixed-Use – Future Projects category at the World Building of the Year Awards.
Courtesy of Nabil Gholam Architects
The design promotes arts and culture within a predominantly residential district, whilst also interacting respectfully with the neighborhood scale of its context. Expressed as a contemporary take on the vernacular architecture found within Riyadh, the project offers a unique blend of programs whilst remaining visually respectful to its Saudi Arabian roots.
Courtesy of Nabil Gholam Architects
Nabil Gholam Architects described their design as a “peculiar experiment,” due to the prescribed functions of the complex intermix in a unique arrangement. Traditionally separated, the different public and private components engage with each other to form a cohesive whole, but individually retain their own function. The internal “oasis” helps bind these elements, which the architects say are “interlinked either visually or physically through the green heart of the project..”
Two critical parameters weighed in to shape up the project: primarily, the way the project with an ambition to become a pioneer in promoting the arts (while remaining a profitable endeavor in its other components) positions itself within the city as well as at the neighborhood scale and effectively interacts with both. And on the micro level, striking the balance between maintaining the residents’ privacy within the project itself and insuring the success of the public functions.
Courtesy of Nabil Gholam Architects
Bordered by a busy commercial road on its main facade, the scheme cements its prominence by presenting itself as a large, articulated mass. This facade is expressed as a solid wall with perforations and occasional punctures through which the vegetation is visible, hinting at the large internal courtyard that lay within. The partially transparent ground floor becomes increasingly opaque as it approaches the residential zones. The masses, textures, and patterns reference the vernacular architecture found in the historical Al Diriyah district in Riyadh.
Courtesy of Nabil Gholam Architects
The Art Center occupies the southern edge of the site and is the only ground floor tenancy not occupied by retail or restaurants. The center offers expansive gallery spaces, a café, a shop, auditoriums, workshop spaces, a multimedia library, a training center, and administrative spaces which are elevated on the mezzanine level.
The public functions of the building, as well as some of the residential, is organized a triple height lobby space which opens up onto the large, green courtyard. This internal “oasis” forms the green lung of the building. Terraced gardens step upwards on the first and second floors overlooking the void, protecting the occupants of the adjacent apartments from the activity below.
The courtyard is able to be used year-round, thanks to a retractable shading system. When completely retracted the space is still semi-enclosed by a fixed, perforated roof, sending intriguing light patterns across the plants. The courtyard assists the building in achieving its sustainability strategy, as the heavily planted trees and cross ventilation across water features assists with temperature regulation. Cross-ventilated apartment units, planted roofs, low-e glazing, double skin, and textured cladding all bring the building closer to becoming more environmentally aware.
Old Belchers Farm is a 17th Century farmhouse with a collection of barns and stables. The buildings have Historic Interest Building Status and the property falls within the Conservation Area of Little Milton.
The project brief was for a conversion that was to offer a new contemporary art and exhibition space that would help contribute to the upkeep of the estate, consisting of a dining room and of ces that wrap around a hidden library at the centre of the project.
This library, the heart of the concept, contains four secret doors that when opened connect to the surrounding spaces. When these doors are closed, the room is lined with bookshelves on all sides. It has a mirrored polished steel ceiling, which doubles the perceived height of the space by creating bookshelves that seem to extend to in nity. A set of thin L-shaped steel plates create a very light cantilevered balcony, allowing access to the higher bookshelves while maintaining their visual verticality.
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This creates a reading room with an intimate ambiance contrasting with the surrounding bright lit rooms.
The main barn is located aside from the house courtyard setting, out of view from the High Street and just inside the private access road, as it enters into the courtyard. A lean-to block addition with asbestos roof was added to the main barn at some stage to the south elevation, obscuring the main barn and forming the boundary wall to the neighbouring property Betts Farm House.
Describing the design, Christina Seilern, said: “While the galleries are pared-down in design, the library is somewhat whimsical. It has a mirrored polished steel ceiling, which doubles the perceived ceiling height of the space by creating bookshelves that seem to extend to in nity. A set of thin L-shaped steel plates create a very light cantilevered balcony that allows access to the higher bookshelves, while maintaining their visual verticality.’
Sig Nordal 