Perhaps due to architect‘s training in school, and the practice conditions after graduation, we tend to be a critical bunch. We often look for moments of weakness and uncertainty in a design and try to pick ‘it’ apart, and ridicule the architect along the process. We do so NOT across the discipline but within it. We criticize other architect’s work, sometimes out of serious annoyance, or simply for the pleasure of mockery, and at time simple detest.
The bigger the star, the more abuse they get. BIG, Eisenman, Holl, Calatrava, Hadid, Gehry, Foster, Meier or what have you. They are either too market driven one liner, too theoretical, too leaky, too expensive, too formal, too technical, or simply too white. It’s as though we rather pick on those who dare to speak louder, and take more risk than those walking the normative path. Almost every super star has been on the receiving end of some kind of critique. All but except for one that I can think of.
All, that is, except one. Álvaro Siza.
Why is that? I don’t think I have ever come across a negative comment/ critique uttered about Siza. What is it about his lines, interconnecting spaces, materials, landforms, plans and sections that doesn’t solicit harsh or sarcastic comments from our discipline? Is it because his humble quote that has been peppered in books, and social media? “Architects don’t invent anything; they transform reality”
And what does he mean by “reality”? Is it simply site and context, or, as Mark Lee suggests, does it extend further into the historical continuum of architecture itself? Or perhaps the answer lies in the elusive legibility of Siza’s work: the way his buildings resist reduction to a slogan, defy the easy one-liner that so often fuels both praise and criticism. His architecture demands to be experienced in its nuance—walked, touched, lived—rather than captured in a neat symbolic idea.
Maybe this is why he escapes the mockery so pervasive in our field: Siza’s work disarms us. It refuses the arrogance of spectacle or the self-consciousness of theory. Instead, it carries an aura of inevitability, as though it had always been there, quietly transforming reality in ways too subtle, too precise, too human, too historic, too modern to be ridiculed.
World Expo’s Disneyfication and Thesis Design as Laboratory of Expo World
As I waited in line—or queued, as they say in English—I couldn’t help but be reminded of the same experience when visiting Disneyland, especially in summer. Only there, the lines were shorter, with children’s eyes lit up with anticipation instead of crying in resonance, and sweat dripping down their faces.
Waiting in the parallel, winding line, stretching what felt like kilometers, many questions, expectations, and doubts began to surface in my mind. Which pavilion will be the most innovative? Will the national pavilions truly resemble and evoke the countries they aim to represent? Or will they turn into caricatures?
As the wait time passed 30 minutes, I begin to wonder: what am I doing here when there is a “real city” out there waiting to be explored? The real Japan is just a few stops away! Just as doubt began to germinate, the ticketing staff prompted us to scan our QR codes, momentarily subsiding our anxiety. Once inside the “Expo” fantasy land, there were more lines—the kind one finds at LAX or JFK—except outdoors, under tremendous heat.
In 1851, when the first World Expo was organized—made famous in part by Joseph Paxton’s Crystal Palace—traveling to exotic places meant a journey of more than two weeks by ocean liner. In that context, the idea of “bringing the world to me” made sense. The majority of the population had never seen a Chinese pagoda, rare ivory carvings, the Koh-i-Noor diamond from India, or the latest inventions of the Industrial Revolution.
One cannot help but wonder, in this day and age of ease and fluid global travel, why is the “World Expo” still necessary? One estimate suggests that (pre-COVID) cross territory air travel reached more than 1.5 billion people in 2019. When the latest innovations can be accessed with a tap on a phone, and authentic cultural experiences felt within hours of flight, why do we still create and visit these World Expos?
For architects, there are a few possible reasons. Perhaps to see which designers are producing the most radical and imaginative uses of technology and material as part of their designs—water vapor, sound, air, engineered timber, 3D printing, ESG conditions and so on.
Soon, however, one realizes there is nothing truly “national” about the pavilions, including its innovations or the mode through which they are presented. Switch out the flags in front, and no one would be able to tell the difference. Singapore’s sphere had no more meaning than Netherland’s sitting beside. Authentic national identity, as it turns out, is far more difficult to capture, represent, and make visible and experiential through architecture.
In this sense, perhaps Disneyfication is a more fitting lens for understanding Expo pavilions—except they lack Disney’s theatricality and its capacity to temporarily transport us to real fantasies, the worlds of Iron Man, Toy Story land and others.
Perhaps a more sobering observation emerges at the end of visit: if schools of architecture are not careful, we risk reproducing the same phenomenon—churning out “national pavilions” under the disguise of “thesis design.” Student projects becoming Expo pavilions: isolated showpieces, emphasizing spectacle, novelty, and symbolic representation, rather than deeply engaged, relational or contextually grounded architecture.
Just like you can’t access the pavilions without entering the Expo, you can’t talk about certain kinds of thesis projects without accepting their self-constructed premises, and that, is problem worth debating.
To be continued.
New Eyes on Old Walls
The exhibition CONTINUITY: Canonical as Memory and Experimentation as Future showcased the work of first-year architecture students, held from June 20 to July 11 at the Xinyi Street Huang’s Courtyard House in Central West District. Originally built in the 1930s, the historic house was recently revitalized through a thoughtful and surgical intervention by A.S Studio Engineering Consultant, by adding new architectural enclosures and tectonics to reveal and dialogue with the existing stone and masonry walls. It transformed the nearly century old private house into a vibrant venue for public forum and discussion. Through architectural drawings and physical models, our students’ work served as a platform for dialogue—not only with the local district community but also visitors from beyond Tainan’s city walls.
“The study of architecture is ultimately the study of works of architecture.”
—Essy Baniassad
If canonical architecture encapsulates the collective memory of the discipline—showing where architecture has been—then experimentation speculates where it might go. This exhibition embraced that duality. It featured the study, analysis, and design synthesis of 25 postwar canonical buildings from Taiwan and abroad. Sixty-five first-year students distilled the essence, spirit, and formal characteristics of each canon and projected imaginative, speculative futures that bridge precedent and experimentation.
The result is the culmination of a 16-week architectural journey, exploring architectural history, material, structure, and form. The exhibition offered not only a glimpse into foundational learning but also positioned each student within a continuum of architectural inquiry.
Fittingly, the exhibition took place at the Xinyi Street Huang Residence, a building that itself embodies the concept of “continuity”. Through sensitive and innovative design interventions by A.S Studio, the house has been given a renewed spirit, offering a tangible metaphor for the exhibition’s theme: where memory meets the future.
Canonical Beginnings
Upon entering the side entry pavilion, visitors encountered analytical drawings of 25 canonical works. These ranged from Sigurd Lewerentz’s St. Peter’s Church in Klippan and Lina Bo Bardi’s MASP in São Paulo, to Kao Er-Pan’s Taipei Fine Arts Museum and Wang Chiu-Hwa’s Chung Yuan Christian University Library, and among others. These works served as a springboard for an exploratory process.
Students engaged with these buildings through critical readings, photographs, and drawing analysis to extract what they identified as the project’s “main spirit.” Each analysis culminated in a single Critical Section drawing and model that captured the DNA of each canonical project. Displayed against the raw backdrop of the aged brick walls, the crisp lines of these drawings created a compelling visual contrast.
Courtyard as Threshold
Moving deeper into the house, visitors entered a central courtyard open to the sky—a spatial transition in between. The original stone frontispiece and a newly inserted glass volume with a bellowing painted steel roof created a juxtaposition of materials and times, lightness and weight. The courtyard has enabled the venue for various casual and formal exchanges since its opening. Adjacent the courtyard are three galleries on the ground floor, which presented a variety of process models in different scales, tracing each student’s progression from canonical analysis to personal reinterpretation.
A Crescendo
The climax of the exhibition awaited on the second floor. Ascending a pair of red spiral stairs, visitors entered a nave-like space shaped by a series of Miura folds made from engineering timber, enclosing the gable roof. Underneath it were seven monumental inclusive scrolls displaying on the ground, each ten meters long, along with one single scroll unfurling to the south end of the gallery. Together, these scrolls formed a visual and spatial dialogue between origami folds and parabolic curve—where structure and drawing converse.
These Inclusive Scrolls represented a distinct learning method: collaborative collages of architectural production, both experiential and formal. Originating from the earlier canonical studies, the scrolls involved mixing, sampling, and recombining architectural elements and ideas into new narratives. Created in teams of 8 to 9 students under the mentorship of eight studio instructors, the scrolls challenged the traditional notion of individual authorship in architecture education. Instead, they emphasized collaboration, serendipity, and inclusion—underscoring the foundation pedagogy at NCKU.
Public Engagement
The exhibition drew over 8,500 visitors during its three-week run—an average of 500 visitors per day. It also received broad media attention, with coverage from traditional outlets like Liberty Times, and UDN, as well as digital platforms such as Tainan Style, La Vie and among others. The enthusiastic public response highlights the potentials of architectural education to engage with the public, and the value of making student work accessible to a wider audience.
This was a rare and meaningful opportunity to bring design education beyond the confines of the classroom and into the public realm. We are grateful to Mr. Chen Kuan-Fan, principal of A.S Studio Engineering Consultant, for his kind invitation, which allowed us to be the pilot exhibition in a series of architectural showcases at the house, bringing new eyes to old walls.
Expo'98 Portuguese National Pavilion / Álvaro Siza Vieira
Capturing complex simplicity 4 July 2025
What is a Canon?
As the architectural discipline continues to debate the question of what a canon should be, it seems that embracing the living patterns and behaviors of cities—rather than adopting idealized and imported models—offers a more effective and truthful approach to improving urban quality of life. In other words, less aesthetics, and more anthropological approach.
Even though it is not yet formulated in a rigorous way, I believe this should be the underlying premise for contemporary architectural education, that is to emphasis the both/ and approach of studying our surroundings to look for experiential, spatial and tectonic intelligence, while also understanding the traditional canons.
The February issue of Architecture Review presents a selection of projects that fall outside traditional notions of exemplary architecture, highlighting buildings that have developed and expanded organically over time. However, the editors overlooked Taiwan, despite our own wealth of intriguing examples.
隨著建築學科持續探討「典範應該是什麼」這一問題,似乎更長遠且有效的方式並非採用理想化或外來的模式,而是擁抱城市自身的生活模式與行為方式,以此來提升都市的生活品質。換句話說,應該少一些純粹的美學考量,而更多地從人類學的角度切入。
儘管這一觀點尚未被系統化地闡述,我認為它應當成為當代建築教育的基本前提,也就是強調「亦此亦彼」的學習方式:既從我們的周遭環境中尋找體驗、空間及構造的智慧,同時也理解傳統的建築典範。
Architecture Review 二月號提出了一系列不符合傳統典範概念的建築案例,聚焦於那些隨時間自然發展與擴展的建築。然而,編輯們卻忽略了台灣,儘管我們同樣擁有許多值得關注的獨特案例。
評圖的目的是什麼?
幫助學生釐清建築空間設計?
幫助學生反思論述邏輯?
幫助學生建立信心?
幫助學生開拓視角?
幫助學生完成設計?
幫助學生?
還是讓評者有一個表演的舞台?
或是為了展示評者和學生之間權力關係本質上的不平衡?
坐者說的就是「對」的?
如果沒有「幫助」在評圖的過程中,還真的不適合做了一位所謂的architectural critic.
Criticize 不等於Criticism
翻譯
2022年11月30日,應該是「翻譯作為一種職業」正式終結的日子 (sorry 吳介禎)。
七年前,寫過一篇關於建築評論與教育相關的短文。當時讀到文章翻譯版本時感到難以閱讀。相較之下,ChatGPT 的翻譯卻比較能準確掌握原文中諷刺與黑色幽默的細微之處。
大衛與歌利亞?
參與評論,有時候就像一場拳擊賽。兩位對手——學生與評論者——在場上交鋒,而觀眾則在場邊歡呼喝采、驚嘆不已。通常,由於評論者與學生之間在權力結構、經驗與知識上的不對等,幾乎不可能讓學生在這場對決中「勝出」。然而,能夠挑戰並戰勝強大的「歌利亞」的傳奇,正是吸引觀眾的一大看點。
評論可以有許多不同的形式。從導師與學生之間一對一、極具私密性的桌邊評論——「練習賽」;到由外部評審組成的論文答辯評圖會所呈現的戲劇性場面——「冠軍賽」;再到介於兩者之間的各種形式,例如未完成草圖的張貼、快速列印或無紙化簡報等——「展演賽」,每一種都有其特定目的。如同職業拳擊賽有其明確規則,評論的安排也早已為參與者所熟悉。在香港亦是如此,甚至偶爾會聽到響鈴聲,宣布評論時間結束。
Plato's allegory of the cave by Jan Saenredam, according to Cornelis van Haarlem, 1604, Albertina, Vienna
從「教改」到「考改」
在台灣常聽到「教改」的聲音,不過以我看來似乎「考改」更是重要。
記得兩年前第一次教建築圖學時竟然有同學「提醒」、甚至抱怨為什麼課堂沒有練習徒手寫「建築字」。之後發現原來這些「訓練」是跟建築師執照考試有關。前幾周跟學生聊天發現有不少同學畢業後參加考照補習班,而且學習的方法竟然是單人「觀賞」錄製好的影片!
反觀美國NCARB大概30年前就電腦化也把主觀性的設計考量取消。而考題方向主要注重在公共健康、安全和福利。除了技術性上的考題也有跟人文、史論相關的題目。如果沒記錯的話就曾經有考到 Mies Seagram Building corner detail.
兩年前看了一位學生在英國準備的RIBA Part 3 報告。基本上是一本設計過的建築學習實踐紀錄/反映日常挑戰的考試題。在她執照面試中,考官問她關於建築研究助理的工作經驗,而非只注重技術性的題目。
考試思維不改變,教育改革只會讓大部分學生覺得莫名其妙,搞不懂為什麼兩個世界距離這麼遠。
如何不要讓同學們變成是Allegory of the cave 《洞穴之喻》的囚犯,應該是做老師的責任吧?
Objective (Discipline) > Process (Education) > Evaluation (Licensure)
What is the standard for evaluating the 'qualification' of an architect? Especially preparing an architect that is forward-looking.
臺灣祀典武廟
成大一年後
航太宿舍頂樓李祖原設計
台南看板建築
「回到」台南
2022年中回來台灣,終結了過去三十七年、旅居十二個城市的漂泊。我踏上了這個祖父曾在上世紀四十年代行醫、父親小學時代經歷過的台南古城,並正穿越時空,體驗著長輩們常常掛在口邊,一點一滴的下港回憶。回來後,我們一家四口都成長不少。兩個正在念國小的孩子在國語溝通上更具信心,慢慢能用三種語言表達自己,更不時學著用台語說「呷飽未」來打招呼。他們每天自己來回位於南科的學校和台南火車站,這在一年前是難以想像的情境。太太也漸漸地適應台南的生活。我則在使用國語進行教學上越來越得心應手,有望實現退休前用台語教課的目標。然而,目前唯一亦無法克服的挑戰是如何以便捷的方式完成國立大學核銷的程序!
學習如何去學
經過RISD五年的專業建築教育後,我曾信心滿滿,自認什麼都懂。然而,畢業後參與的第一次帷幕牆會議讓我大吃一驚。設計小組細心的討論著一本厚厚的施工細部圖,而我卻發現自己連平面或剖面圖都無法辨識。這時我才意識到還有太多需要學習的地方。然而,不久之後,我深刻體會到學校無法模擬現實生活和大環境的所有條件。因此,我認為教育最終的目的應該是培育「學習如何去學」的精神,而不是期望在四至五年內學滿所有建築知識。
知與不知
在進入教學體制之前,我曾在許多國外事務所工作多年。這段經歷讓我學會了許多該做和不該做的知識。當中對我最具影響力的經歷是分別與 維諾利 (Rafael Viñoly) 和 蓋瑞 (Frank Gehry) 共事。雖然這兩間事務所的規模和案例都相當,但老闆對建案的處理手法,以致員工在建築學習上的經歷都截然不同。維諾利 認為應該給予年輕人發揮的空間,一切問題都能靠毅力和想像力解決。這使得我們的團隊,儘管平均年齡只有2、30歲,卻有機會負責三億美元的建築案。在這裡,我學到了許多「不知道」的可能性,因為我們「不知道」而敢於嘗試,也因嘗試而創造出許多新的可能性。相反,蓋瑞認為建築需要極大的紀律和經驗,因為作為建築師,代表著專業和責任,亦代表着他自己的形象。我記得當時每一張圖、每一個細節,都需要經上層主管的仔細審核才能外送事務所。新同事不論年齡大小、經歷多寡,都必須接受一段新的「知道」洗禮,才能贏得老闆的信任。及後成為老師,我發現自己面臨著相同的決擇,也就是讓學生如何在「知道」與「不知道」之間找到平衡,也就是如何在建築的「Convention」和「Invention」之間找到自己。
設計靈敏度學的來嗎?
大多數建築設計老師,都是在實際授課中累積經驗,學會如何教授設計,很少有聽過設計老師去師範學校學習的例子,即使有也極為罕見。曾經任教香港中文大學的顧大慶老師,過去會在每年暑假舉辦為期兩周的急訓班,讓50-60位中國的年輕老師學習「顧派」的設計教學法。然而在一般情況下,設計課的教學通常是靠着個別老師因應過去自身的學習經驗,加以調整,重新應用。又或者有時是以身教的方式,透過傳統的師徒關係相傳知識和經驗。老師們總是希望學生能夠在課堂上心領神會設計的微妙之處,這基本上是假設,才華和天份是可以教授的。可惜,這樣的主觀願望很少能夠實現。因此,同學們必須能夠發展出一套自帶邏輯的道德觀和設計方法。
在建築教育史上,有許多人試圖系統化教學,其中之一就是杜朗 (Jean Nicholas L Durand 1760-1834),他撰寫了兩卷聞名的著作《精確建築講義》Précis of the Lectures on Architecture 。跟其他建築講義如阿爾貝蒂 (Alberti) 或 維特魯威 (Vitruvitus )不同的是,杜朗的講義特別關注以系統化的方式進行建築研究。本質上他是一本教學的筆記。我曾經翻過這本書的原版,當中有一章很有趣,就是「如何在短時間內獲得建築天份?」我讀過許多次了,但仍然無法取得書中所描述的才華。設計靈敏度是否真的可以教授?
歸屬
我曾經任教香港中文大學十二年, 當初我曾因不是當地人,不擅廣東話而感到擔憂。很快我發現這是多餘的。建築系上會講廣東話的老師寥寥可數,課堂上用到的機會極少。系上的老師來自世界各地,土生土長的香港人僅占當中的20%,而中大畢業的老師更是少數。有回當我在嘗試鼓勵中大畢業生回校申請研究所時,有一位學生直截了當的問我:「中大研所的學位能幫我申請教授職位嗎?為什麼我們系上的專任老師都沒有中大畢業的?」這段對話讓我印象非常深刻,以致此後我不時提倡校方聘請中大畢業生回校貢獻建築教育。相反地,台灣的學校情況截然不同,大部分老師是本地人,多數曾在外地學習和工作過一段時間後回國,當中有一半以上是回到自己的母校服務。去年參加了成大校慶晚宴,場內千人大聲喊著「我成大、我驕傲」,這個對母校充滿熱愛、歸屬和自豪感的場景非常震撼。兩種情境反映了兩個不同歷史和制度的淵源。在後殖民時代、全球化和國際化的框架下,兩地都各自在努力尋找和定義自己的身份認同。在這樣的脈絡下,問題就像是要比較月亮到底在哪裡更圓一樣,沒有絕對的答案。
我成大我驕傲_2023-11-11成大校慶晚宴
未來
自加入成大這年半以來算是非常忙碌:帶著幾位學生做畢業設計、策劃了以設計為主軸的高中生工作坊,負責一年級設計課的召集人、也教授「建築圖學」。在研究所指導幾位甲組跟MArch II的學生,亦有一堂探討當代建築的理論課。教學之外,研究工作亦頗充實,分別參加了冰島 ACSA/EAAE 和瑞士 Mendrisio的兩個學術座談會,探討建築圖學的方向與方法,也被邀請擔任擔諾丁漢大學,為他們校外學術課評團隊之一。這段時間也帶著好奇的心態,一連申請了三個研究計劃,嘗試了解國內外在過程上的差異。加上校內各種行政工作等等,可以說是一個充滿挑戰的開始。希望未來的日子會一樣的充實。
建築圖學Pin Up
一年級設計課Final Review
一年級設計課期末展覽海報
making of the year-one design studio
Window and Mirror - From Tainan to the World
In an era dominated by global connectivity through platforms like Instagram and Facebook, where Google and ChatGPT serve as encyclopedias, and design tools such as Adobe Suite, Sketchup, Rhino, and Python are the norm, our students face a challenge in distinguishing themselves in a homogenized landscape. As our access to knowledge and design processes becomes less distinctive, the question arises: How can NCKU students leverage their unique islander experiences to stand out on a global stage? This has been the driving question since my return to Taiwan, here are a few thoughts to share.
To inspire the best in our students, we must not only expose them to the latest global issues and trends (creating "windows" to the world) but also nurture their confidence to introspect and discover their identity and internal wealth of resources (looking into the "mirror"). This “self-discovery” extends beyond the individual and personal to encompass cultural practices. The starting point for this transformative process is the city they will call home for the next few years – Tainan.
Revisiting the Foundation: Bricolage and Formalism
The revamped Foundation Studio at NCKU draws inspiration from two key cultural perspectives in architectural education: Bricolage and Formalism. "Bricolage" represents an attitude and spatial approach influenced by the city surrounding NCKU, embodying Taiwan's distinct sensibility. This encompasses the improvisation of materials, vibrant use of tectonic expressions, and adaptive use of space and collaged methods. Rather than sidelining these intelligences, students are encouraged to cultivate a critical mindset, learning valuable lessons from Tainan. On the other hand, the "Formal" exercise aligns with the Bauhaus pedagogical traditions observed globally in architecture schools. This process exposes students to essential aspects of architecture production such as space, light, materiality, scale, tectonics and representation, providing a solid foundation for their future learning.
Project 1: Urban Detective
Students are encouraged to explore Tainan's West-Central district using their visual, auditory, tactile, gustatory, and olfactory senses. Working in groups, they act as urban detectives, tracing searching for the former shadows of Deqing Creek (德慶溪). Their mission involves studying and documenting ordinary objects, buildings, streets, contexts, and people akin to detectives uncovering artifacts that support their hypotheses and narratives about the historic city. Students transition from the general to the specific, drawing upon both textual reading and physical experiences to illustrate their discoveries. Their embodied experiences are reflected on an A0 drawing and model, see Figure 1.
Additionally, they constructed a full-scale "Perceptual Instrument" aimed at enhancing, augmenting, or amplifying their initial perceptions of the city. This pedagogical approach not only allows students to document the city from their unique perspectives but also teaches them hands-on skills through the making of the instrument. In essence, this project is designed to inspire students to think outside the box and nurture their creativity by engaging in hands-on exploration and construction, see Figure 2 & 3.
Figure 1. Deqing Creek (德慶溪) interpretative drawing by 湯創孫, advising tutor 黃聖鈞.
Figure 2. Surface recorder by 謝政庭, advising tutor 林煌迪.
Figure 3. Wind propelled Urban Music Box by 廖昱衡, advising tutor 毛映壹.
Project 2: Exploring the Cube
Complementing the first project, the second one spans six weeks and encourages students to develop their creativity "inside" the box, both figuratively and literally. The initial step involves an accidental union, casting a plaster massing of a 20x20x20 cm cube through the boolean of a “simple” or abstract geometry to create negative spaces. This process explores a student’s intuitive sense and makes visible the relationship between solid and void, space and light, heavy and lightness. Moving on, the second step utilizes surface materials to transform the initial cube into a tectonic system, developing the internal space and defining the interplay between inside and outside. Step three introduces yet another transformation, employing stick or wire materials to modify the surface cube. After completing these sequential changes, the fourth step tasks students with evolving these models into a distinctive Spiritual Retreat with the inclusion of toilets inside so the discussion of served and servant spaces can take place. The final project includes creating 1:50 scale models and drawings, contextualized in Yuguang Island (漁光島). This approach, incorporating a simple site, encourages students to contemplate the intricate relationship between architecture and the environment. The project stands as a testament to the infinite possibilities that emerge within a defined set of constraints, see Figure 4-7. Before progressing to the fourth phase, all 64 students, along with eight tutors and TAs, engaged in site observation, exploring several fair-face concrete “cubic” buildings designed by Mr. Mao (毛森江建築師), See Figure 8.
Figure 4. SOLID CUBE Casting Form & Accidental Union, exercise 1 by 黃韋慈, advising tutor 許家茵.
Figure 5. SOLID CUBE orthographic drawings by 黃韋慈, advising tutor 許家茵.
Figure 6. (Right) SOLID CUBE Casting Form & Accidental Union, (Center) PLANAR CUBE Modifying Form & Shaping Space, (Left) EDGE CUBE Modifying Form & Defining Limits, Exercises 1 through 3 by 巫辰鍰, advising tutor 呂武隆.
Figure 7. RETREAT OF LIGHT, WATER & EARTH Siting Form & Designing Architecture, exercises 4 by 蔡昀臻, advising tutor 黃聖鈞.
Figure 8. Site visit and study trip to projects designed by by Mr. Mao (毛森江建築師).
Peer-to-Peer Learning and Collective Display
A notable shift in this year's year-end review involves a significant boost in peer-to-peer learning. Instead of relying solely on verbal critiques from visiting critics, we've fostered a sharing environment through the collective display of students' works. Students are encouraged to pin up their drawings and models at the same time, creating an opportunity for mutual exchange. This simple change of organization enables students to obtain insights by observing, analyzing similarities and differences in approaches, and witnessing how other classmates translate their ideas into design representations. We observed that most students actively participate throughout the entire review process, demonstrating heightened engagement. Importantly, these sessions conclude before six o'clock, avoiding the tendency to run late into the evening, with blasé students filling the room, see Figure 9.
Studio and Architectural Graphics Integration
Another adjustment this year was the integration between Studio design project and the Graphics assignments, whereby the course productions are interconnected. They are not seen as separate courses but instead related synthesis. One benefit of this adjustment is allowing students to better focus their attention and efforts, in other words, work in depth, rather than work more, See Figure 10.
Reflective Documentation
The term concludes with a new tool for learning – a course documentation required for all year-one students. This “portfolio” serves as a graphic journal of their 18-week learning journey, providing an opportunity for reflection on their rite of passage to architecture. We also hope that this process will initiate a habit of being organized and reflective throughout their learning at NCKU.
Figure 9. Week 3 interim project sharing and review.
Figure 10. Architectural Graphics and Design Studio integration. Students shown here working on a collective drawing assignment.
Final review briefing
From One Way Critique to Vineyard Sharing
I have been wondering, actually doubting, the effectiveness of the jury system. Particularly the kind of arrangement where the student often stands singly in front of a panel of ‘judges’ evaluating their creative productions.
I often observe that even though the presenting student might be listening intently (often not), their peers are more likely to be browsing through their phones or their souls missing in action. Many are waiting for the review session to be over. This, of course, changes when some high-profile figure shows up. For good or bad reasons, the students would participate without being dazed.
One alternative to the typical protocol that works better is the vineyard arrangement, where the works are placed in the center, with students surrounding it. This turn away from the “critique” and towards “sharing” of the work focuses not so much on individuality but on collective learning and reflection. The physical emphasis of the center brings attention to the work being shared. Very often, learning for me is not so much about what is being said but what is being felt and experienced in that particular moment.
The Thick and Thin of Fragrant Harbor
The linearity of thickness and thinness is a unique experience of Fragrant Harbor shaped by intense phenomenological stimuli. Be it the glint of light glimmering along suspended street signs; sounding of bells dinging from tram cars; fragrances radiating from food stalls; or the unavoidable bodily contact between commuters in underground trains. The thick and thin of Fragrant Harbor are places where culture, identity, and everyday practices meet. It is also the starting point of our urban drawing project, where the linearity of Hong Kong phenomenology is explored through the lines of graphite, and episodes of young artists discovering, learning, and drawing together the city they inhabit.
In episode one, thin lines of streets were traversed directly and studied through literature. That is to say, young artists drew from different sources of inspiration. By walking through, observing, and getting to know the places, particularly in the hodgepodge neighborhoods of Yau Matei and Shum Shuipo. The direct personal experience was crisscrossed with the stories depicted in Lee Ou Fan’s “Walking along Kowloon Streets”, an observational and semi-theoretical reflection of the city; accounting their histories, literature records, myths, and fantasies. In episode two, the thick underground train lines and stations served as a means to debate the issues of masses and individuals by twenty university students, at a time when freedom, rights, and identity were colliding in their city.
The multi-authored drawing series takes aim at drawing urban conditions and processes through the questions: Can architectural drawing act as a site of memory, documentation, and imagination? Can it perform as a pedagogical device to draw out the multi-temporal and spatiality of the city? The drawings reinterpret the collective paintings of Qing Dynasty artists Sun Hu, Jin Kun, and Cheng Zhidao, and the contemporary drawing practices of David Gersten, Atelier Bow-wow, and Niall McLaughlin.
Drawing Towards a New Beginning
“In the martial art of Karate, the symbol of pride for a black belt is to wear it long enough such that the dye fades to white as to symbolize returning to the beginner state.”
John Maeda
PROLOGUE: A December in KL
To be visually different is what architects who have achieved international notoriety say when promoting their projects. It is the spectacle they hope to create and accomplish. It is also why their lectures are usually less inspiring than anticipated, typically organized linearly with pictures and drawings of their design, annotated with empty slogans. As an audience we go to the lecture to be enlightened by a narrative, to discover a unique design methodology, or perhaps a clear ethical position. But instead, we learned about their non-transferrable intuition, a particular feeling to react, a eureka moment, and we hear the use of exhaustive metaphors. Therefore, we leave the lecture knowing nothing more than when we arrived 60 minutes before. What we’ve experienced and heard between 1st to 4th of December in Kuala Lumpur was different. Not only was it visually stimulating but was also an all-encompassing experience.
The lecture, forum, thesis presentation and exhibition curated and organized by professors Wang Chun-Hsiung, Lai Chee Kien, Teoh Chee Keong and Wu Yao Ting consist of a series of meaningful events that took place in a powerful and phenomenologically charged space, REXKL. A multi-purpose event hall with restaurants, retails and a maze-like librairie converted from a disused cinema. Originally built in 1947, the history-laden urban repository was “reincarnated” through the conservation advocacy effort and design intelligence of Malaysian architects Shin Chang and Shin Tseng[1]. The project, both its programming and the building redesign, is a revitalization par excellence of what new vernacular architecture could be. From exposing the histories of brute brick face and concrete frame to the careful insertion of modular design plywood shelving. The building is an embodiment of the human senses multiplied by memory. The forum itself was a massive undertaking involving plenty of hard work and imagination by the committee members. The architectural sensibilities and perspectives presented by the students, design proponents, educators and Southeast Asia architects all contributed earnestly to the new architectural canons and approaches that are in urgent demand.
SWINGING PENDULUM
If the mid and second half of the 20th Century was about expanding global collaboration by building institutions and agreements such as the UN, EU, APEC, WTO to cultivate a notion of “Us” within the global community. The prevailing force at the start of the 21st Century is to dismantle it through Populism, Brexit, MAGA, strict border control and decoupling of the supply chains. The momentum seeks to redraw a clear distinction between you / me, and they / we, flushing the Neoliberalism of “We are the world” down the drain. To make the situation even starker, the fortuitous rise of COVID pandemic seems to be the last nail on the coffin.
Given this background the forum’s theme “New Vernacular Grounds” could not come at a timelier manner. Because, if history swings like a pendulum, then this opportune movement toward a receptive ground, more attuned to local specificities, should be embraced with open arms. The call for an alternative to universalization, an inevitable parallel with globalization, with locale specific architecture to resist the placelessness approach. One that responds to the topographic, climatic conditions of a site, the tectonics of principles, and the cultural sensibility of its people and place. A sensibility where the tactile would surpass the visual, the tectonic would win over the scenographic, and the differentiated would be favored over the homogeneous[2].
Through the 25 student thesis provocations from 5 southeast Asian countries and Taiwan, the discussions from the forum have sparked a fresh energy and new interpretations on what “vernacularism” could project and become in the 21st century. Whether it is through the lens of “Community and Heritage” led by Prof. Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan of University of Indonesia; “Resilience and Nature” moderated by Prof. Bakhtiar Amir of UCSI; “Materiality and Tectonics” supported by Prof. Yeo Kang Shua of SUTD; or “Technology and the City” by me, the presented projects captured the opportunities bespoke to the conference theme. It also brought to the fore new ways of engaging our built environment. Explicitly suggesting that the students are keenly aware of their role as socially oriented cultural producers. The source of their inspiration comes from the city they inhabit. From Kampung Braga, Kaohsiung, Kuala Lumpur, Manila, to Taichung and more. Despite the variations in sites, there is a common ambition among these projects. Which is to provoke and elevate the pertinent issue of ‘locality’ to the public’s consciousness. Three examples in the following may help to explain.
INNOVATING GENIUS LOCI
In the co-author’s hometown of Metro Manila, it has one of the worst public transportation systems in the world. The proposed thesis creates a unified Grand Central station and underground corridor which connects major railways from new to existing. It offers a solution to the transport crisis and provides realistic public facilities that are community sensitive and adaptable to future changes. Through streamlined forms of historical vernacular design and modern interpretation of traditional materials by using local elements and details while integrating them with contemporary technologies. The central station serves as an example to reinforce Philippine iconography onto the new station project, making it relevant again in the contemporary monotonous urban cityscape. The proposal creates a new engagement platform with the support of the local organizations within the vicinity which would benefit from the new revitalized public infrastructure while providing flexible public breathing spaces. Altogether, elevating the commuting public’s experience and solidifying a Filipino vernacular character. Promoting more people to use the country’s public transport and walk more as a valid alternative rather than using their private vehicles.
In Pudu, locally known as “half jungle” in Kuala Lumpur, a region developed in the 1900s during the British Colonial rule. It was one of the most prosperous places in KL, as such, Pudu carries a high historical value and distinctive architectural characteristics influenced by its multiracial community and living style. Redevelopment of Pudu Market by adaptive reuse reclaims the vanished place identity by enhancing the sense of place. Through interpreting its “genius loci” to form a sustainable development in terms of social, environmental, and economy. The proposed redevelopment aims to integrate innovative technology in order create a new and diverse traditional market journey with dynamic experiential quality. It reimagines its culture dimension between past, present, and future by fulfilling the community’s contemporary needs as well as to create the much-needed urban vibrancy.
Another project is situated in the Kampung Braga region of Bandung, Indonesia. An urban slum with the lack of open areas, and an enclave village with low accessibility. The project proposes to intervene at specific nodes through urban acupunctures via grassroot participation under the concept of 'Patches!'. The project tackles intangible intervention by seeding activities in accordance with the habits and abilities of its residents. Meanwhile, tangible intervention is achieved through different spatial typologies to make Braga Village a livable community. The thesis offers the design of new vernacular typologies and demonstrates a result of a twofold increase when compared to the existing condition in aspects of connectivity, integration, and agent analysis. In addition to the two main anchor locations in the North and South, the design increased the public open area from 2.8% to 6.7%.
These vernacular innovations are examples of student’s first opportunity to put forward their answers to complex sets of issues. The thesis projects provided a platform which enables these possibilities. For most students it is the first time they are given a chance to select the instrument(s) of their choice, and their first opportunity to define and defend the ideal intentions for their architecture. This is also the initial attempt in validating their relevance as a young architect. It is an exciting and critical moment of their lives[3].
EDUCATING AN ARCHITECT
Taiwanese American children’s book illustrator and writer Grace Lin, describes the need for children to have two types of books on their shelves. On one level books provide windows to see the immensity of the world, with another serving as mirrors for discovering who they are deep inside. Grace warned of the deficiency for having books of singular kind, which she argues will either overemphasize the narrow interpretation of the world, through their single point of view, or alternatively amassing great knowledge of the world without knowing how to contextualize it through their personal experience[4].
We believe this articulation also applies to architectural education, particularly now, at a time when the practice of architecture has become increasingly global. Not only are buildings being designed from across the globe but building components could be manufactured and sourced from all over the world. This borderless crossing has resulted in cities becoming monotonous for their lack of differentiation, where cities are at risk of becoming more like one another than carrying its unique identity and lineage.
Architectural education offers two areas of study to students, they are “instrument” and “intention”. Study of instruments involves the use of tools necessary to transform an idea toward a physical manifestation. Study of intention is to find purpose behind the action that one takes. If the instrument draws parallel to “how” then intention could be understood as “why”. Works represented during New Vertical Grounds are the result of this meeting place between instrument and intention, between the mind and the heart. We hope the event not only consummated the student’s formal architectural studies but the commencement of their life-long projects. To conclude, perhaps we shall offer a few thoughts on the forum title, “New Vernacular Grounds.”
NEW
What does it mean to be new? Not in the sense of having a new blouse, one that a lady just bought from the mall. But a “new” dress with completely different performance, meaning and appearance. When “new” is so radically different from its origin, does it require a separate category of its own? Within this premise is it possible for vernacularism to be new? Perhaps the “originality” of an approach could never be separated from its “origin”.
VERNACULAR
In 1965 Bernard Rudolfsky reminded the MoMA bourgeois and elite mainstream establishment of the value of vernacular architecture[5]. The message delivered through its exhibit and publication attempts to break down narrow concepts of art of building by introducing the unfamiliar world to the so-called “non-pedigree architecture”. The indigenous craft of building that is rooted in native conditions with a synthesis between material and construction; utility and performativity; and environmental responses that is rooted in trans-generations of embodied cultural knowledge. Much of this observation by Rudolfsky is once again purposeful, not in a nostalgic way but rather in helping the architecture community on reframing itself to broaden the previously dominating canons.
GROUNDS
Architect Michiel Riedijk describes “position” as the ground through which the work is operated on[6]. Not only is he articulating the physical or construction grounding of the project, but the origins through which the work is conceived and rooted from, ethically, socially, and technically. The position an architect adopts with regards to a given assignment is fundamental to the design of architecture. For example, should an architect work with any commission that comes her way regardless of social, political, and ethical considerations? Should an architect work in every part of the world simply because she is able to do so? What is the financial condition through which the architect is working under? Should the architect be a service provider to the client, accommodating his demands as best as possible? What role should the architect play in the construction process, as an observer or provide fantastical imagery without intervention to the production of the building process? These are not rhetorical questions. The nature of the position is utterly important, particularly due to the permanence of the building and its impact to the city and society at large.
EPILOGUE: Ending as a Beginning
So, what now? The conclusion of the ‘New Vernacular Grounds’ forum also marked the beginning of a new set of questions. Has everyone achieved what we’ve set out to do at the inception of the journey? If not, will we continue to find and define our search and research? What will we do and where will we go? Perhaps as suggested by John Maeda[7], we could revisit our “thesis” not through the assumed attitude of a black belt, but instead with the beginner’s eyes of curiosity, questioning and fervor. It is with that passion, that one’s “Architectural Project” may be continued to be expanded and shaped.
Cheng-Chun Patrick HWANG
Julian Cedric S. MALTO
Muhammad BARKAH
Jian Jin Nigel CHAN
[1] See Architizer, https://architizer.com/projects/rexkl/
[2] Léa-Catherine Szacka and Véronique Patteeuw, “Critical Regionalism for our time”, Architecture Review, 22 Nov., 2019.
[3] Patrick Hwang, 2017, “Ending as Beginning”, CUHK MArch Thesis Publication, Hong Kong: CUHK Press.
[4] Grace Lin, The Windows and Mirrors of your Child’s Bookshelf, TEDx Talk, March 19, 2016
[5] Bernard Rudofsky, 1964, Architecture Without Architects : A Short Introduction to Non-Pedigreed Architecture. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.
[6] Michiel Riedijk, 2009, The Drawing: The architect’s raison d’être, Rotterdam: Uitgeverij 010.
[7] John Maeda, 2006, The Laws of Simplicity : Design Technology Business Life. Cambridge Mass: MIT Press.
The Visible and the Invisible
Throwback to 2019 January21. Dung Kai Cheung speaks about the dynamic relationship between the visible and the invisible, and the power it possesses to hide and invoke meaning.
Beyond Architecture and at the heart of Architecture
Throwback to 2020 September 30 - Essy Baniassad on architectural teaching and learning at the university.
DRAWING TOWARDS A COLLABORATIVE TURN
MULTI-AUTHORSHIP
Why is it that while architecture has always been a collaborative, interdisciplinary, and team-based endeavor yet its education has mostly focused on the individual? This is especially insistent for those courses in drawing, visual studies, and design communications. The course objectives tend to premise on acquiring skills to enhance the mastery and deftness of the individual students, focusing on cultivating students’ “individual talent and creativity” and not their capacity to work with others1. What might be the alternative methods in which these subjects could be taught more collaboratively by enhancing the potentiality of ‘creative’ co-synthesis? Drawing Together is a project exploring these questions through the ‘collaborative turn’ by drawing toward multiple rather than singular authorship.
Documenting a period of three years with participants of different sizes, from small groups of two to large collectives of twenty-plus. Students from different programs and levels engaged in days-long drawing sessions. The workshops are organized through a structured and rigorous progression of research to synthesis, simple to complex, and quickness to slowness, it nurtures a collaborative-friendly drawing approach involving shared contributions. As the drawing project coincided with the beginning and the peak of Covid 19 pandemic, we took the opportunity to embrace the zeitgeist by Drawing Together (in person) and Drawing Together, Not Together (online).
The workshops begin with speedy studies and exercises that are traversed through contour, gesture, and tonal drawings. Techniques commonly used in foundation fine arts classrooms. The burst modules —between 10 seconds to 5 minutes— seek to stimulate the learner’s intuition, and immediacy and to enhance their hand-eye coordination. The process enables a form of tacit knowledge one cannot acquire passively but can only achieve through doing. It also encourages the students to forgo their burden and desire to achieve likeness in portraying the observed subject matter, a tendency often found in less confident students.
FROM QUESTIONING TO DRAWING
Questioning is an important building block of the project, and it is often instigated at the outset and throughout the course of the workshop. Questions that explore both the cerebral and the practical aspects of drawing, such as: What is a drawing? Is it an instrument of communication, a tool for thinking, or could it be viewed as a process or platform for social interaction? Should we compel to view drawing aesthetically or could it be a proxy for self-expression? Instead of treating drawing as a skillset related to talent, can we accept it as basic literacy on par with writing, math, and science? Could drawing be game-like (such as Exquisite Corpse2) which is serendipitous, creative, fun, and even therapeutic? On the pragmatic side, questions and discussions involve the modus operandi of drawing, i.e. the determination of methods and processes; drawing instruments and duration etc.
Drawing by Hiu Sun LEUNG and Lincoln CHAN
The first example I wish to discuss is Drawing Life, see Figure 1. It involves two people drawing the nude in the studio together. The drawings consist of two 5-minutes sketches drawn by two different students. The first student makes the initial mark capturing the gesture of the life model. As their first 5-minutes come to an end, the students are prompted to pass on their drawings to a colleague sitting beside them. Surprised by the prompt, the second group of students is genuinely intrigued with the prospect of drawing upon someone else’s drawing. This disruption to the expected single-authorship stirred up a unique sense of improvisation that was refreshing to them. Since the workshop is attended primarily by architectural students, they were invited to view these passed-on drawings not only by their aesthetic qualities but also as potential ‘contexts’ for receiving new interventions and co-authorships. Using architectural analogies the drawing exercises encourage students to react to ‘existing context’, composition, drawing style, and technique of the circumstantial conditions.
Sandy CHEUNG, Lai Sum FONG and Sen Yi CHENG
As the expectation for single authorship fades the drawing became a place for relational authorship, where one builds upon and reacts to the creation of others. In the second example Life of Three Kitchens, see Figure 2. It was conceived by three contributors using a triptych as a format to depict their respective home kitchens. The drawings took place in two locations. First, at the studio where an initial discussion took place, followed by drawings created individually at home in different spaces and times. This asynchronous method differs from the first example in that it offers an additional surprise when the triptych is recomposed together in the studio for the first time.
As the workshop progresses, we experimented with other methods of drawing together. Working with the framework of supervised (involving the instructor) versus unsupervised (without instructor); Synchronous (drawing in the same space/ time) versus asynchronous (drawing in different spaces/ times). The scale of collaboration also increased progressively transforming from two, four to eight collaborators. It culminated in the last piece consisting of 20 contributors. Several students were so immersed in the process that they invited their friends and families to join in. Therefore the question of who is allowed to draw became a discussion point as well. The Massive Individual is a 1.5 meters by 10 meters long scroll drawn in graphite during a four days period in June 2021. The drawing captured the mixed fiction-reality whereby the Mass Transit Railway (MTR) stations are contiguous not by their literal connections but through similarities of their atmospheres, paying homage to Guy Debord’s Psychogeographic Map of Paris (1957). MTR as an important economic, social, and spatial construct for Hong Kong became the common ground for those 20-plus contributors. It is also a means to explore questions about the individual and the city.
RELATIONAL COLLABORATION
In lieu of a few prototypes, such as the design-build studio, architectural pedagogy is premised mostly on single authorship. Some of the most commonly applied group work is often task-oriented such as undertaking initial site analysis; Developing a construction report; Interface with the community; Building a 1:1 installation structure; or proposing a large-scale urban project. These forms of collaboration assume that the task is simply to get participants to contribute existing knowledge rather than nurturing the possibility for ‘relational collaboration’3.
The term relational collaboration is described by John Hagel et al, as the challenge of creating new capabilities and knowledge so that the participants, as individuals, can get better as a result of the collaboration. Its goal is an exchange of tacit knowledge and to offer creative autonomy while learning from others. Relational collaboration under the premise of Drawing Together is cultivated through a carefully designed learning environment and framework, including the rules of engagement, atmosphere, time, and space. In this way, it is a scalable collaboration contingent upon the creation of the participants involved. Relational collaboration is unlike 'transactional collaboration' that works in a linear progression, vis-à-vis the Fordist division of labor. Although necessary in the production of architecture, transactional collaboration offers little contribution to creative synthesis.
FORDIST DIVISION-OF-LABOR OR CREATIVE COLLABORATION?
There are those who argue for the benefit of group work by referring to practice as its motivation. Claiming the work of a complex project is never the effort of one but instead a team with each playing a particular role in the delivery process. However, such claims offer false equivalence that does not capture the dynamic relationships involved in the academic setting. In business practices, a chain of command is defined according to various explicit or implicit hierarchies, rules, and practices. While at a place of learning, such a chain of command does not exist among peers4. Even when it does it takes place in a different form.
Division of labor has always existed in architectural drawings, particularly the kind that involves construction documents. A single drawing often involves a handful of people drawing and redrawing on digital files over the life of the drawing5. And collaborations are enabled through toolsets, such as Xreference in Autocad and Link in Revit etc. However, such collaboration rarely results in creative contribution. Drawing Together offers a counterpoint to these practices by exploring the paradox and challenge of achieving synthetic teamwork unique to architectural education, that is the challenge of educating a designer’s traditional role as the creative individual yet at the same time allowing them to be contributing team players as well.
Endnotes:
1. See Andrzej Bialkiewicz. “Propaedeutics of teaching drawing to architects”, Global Journal of Engineering Education Vol. 21 (2). Australia: WIETE 2019.
2, See Hagel III, John & Brown, John Seely & Davison, Lang. “Defining Common Collaboration Tensions”. Harvard Business Review. May 7, 2009. https://hbr.org/2009/05/defining-common-collaboration
3. See Mark Morris discusses the practice of exquisite corpse in “All Night Long: The Architectural Jazz of the Texas Rangers.” Architectural design 83, no. 5 (2013): 20–27.
4. Heather M. Caruso and Anita Williams Woolley wrote extensively on the actions of 'collaboration' by construction documents, in “Harnessing the Power of Emergent Interdependence to Promote Diverse Team Collaboration.” In Diversity and Groups, 11:245–266. Emerald Group Publishing Limited, 2008.
5. Peter Mackeith. “On Teamwork: Standards and Practices”, SOM Journal 2013. Ostfildern-Ruit: Hatje Cantz.
DESIGN TEACHING
Most of the design teachers I know learn to teach on the job. No one went to a school to learn how to teach. Re-applying and retuning their own experiences as a student seems to be the most common way. Alternatively, one might try to teach by putting on his or her designer hat, hoping that the students can grasp the nuances of doing design. Essentially praying that talent and sensibility are teachable.
Unfortunately, such optimism rarely comes true. As such, the need to cultivate a self-motivating ethos or design method is necessary. Both of these take time to learn and develop. There have been many in the history of architectural education, that attempt to systematize pedagogy. One of which is Jean Nicholas L Durand. The student of Boullee. He famously wrote the two-books volume called The Precise lectures on architecture.
Unlike the other famous books on architecture like Alberti’s or Vitruvius, Durand’s book was particularly focused on the ways of doing architecture, in a systemic manner. It was essentially his teaching notes. One of the chapters that captured my attention was “How to acquire in a short time true architectural talent?” I read it many times. I still don’t think I have acquired the talent that he’s describing. In all seriousness, so what is design? Is design in architecture about problem-solving? For me, as an educator in a professional program, Architectural education is as much as problem-solving as it is about problem-making. Take the work of Frank Gehry. While he is known for his use of the metal panels. Many do not realized his way of problematizing the material as a design inquiry. Metal panels for him is not simply a material that shields the outside from the inside. But instead, it is an expression and characteristic that each building is associated with.
Depending on the context, program, lighting and weathering conditions, each unique solution is the result of, first, being able to formulate a problem. From the taut stainless steel and concealed fasteners of Disney Concert Hall under the context of sunny LA. To the flat lock seamed, paper-thin, crinkly and quilted dematerialized titanium in Bilbao; and the Angel-Hair blue interference-coated aluminum of the Seattle Experience project. Each, for him, was an opportunity for problem making. He did not take the path of least resistance. To what problem is he really solving? Those that the client demand? Or is he trying to craft the problems instead because he is curious?
So how do these ‘real-world’ examples apply to architectural education? A lot in fact. Since good design problems not only encourages the production of work but it also induces questioning and triggers curiosity. And curiosity, as we know, is the best incentive for learning.
One of the best problem givers in the recent history is probably John Hedjuk with his infamous admissions entrance exam questions and others. A well-considered design problem can Therefore have significant consequences. The making of the design problem takes real work. As it involves 1) defining a problem, 2) framing a problem, 3) setting problem limits, 4) crafting problems, and finally 5) creating a criterion for evaluating the success of a problem. As noted by Kyna Leski, these five processes are what’s necessary for formulating a rigorous and thoughtful design problem. However, before this could even begin. There is an even more important step. And that is the need to create the conditions for unlearning according to Kyna.
Unlearning unfolds in a way that creates. When you realize you don’t know something, you have created a problem. Not knowing how titanium would behave under the gloomy light of Bilbao, that need creates an impulse to know for Frank. The impulse is to know something that is much more specific than what you thought you were working on. This understanding is what I try to implement in the design studio and when designing the studio sequence. Of creating conditions to unlearn, and to empower the students to discover problems that did not exist along the way of working through the project.
Context Inspired Forms?
At a casual glance, the Kaohsiung Centre for the Arts and the Tainan Public Library could not be more different. The first project takes on a ‘single-surface’ approach that combines land and form as a smooth and integrated whole. The undulating silhouette of the building does not allow visitors an immediate understanding of its formal logic. The library on the other hand is composed as an object building symmetrical in two directions. Its formal appearance is expressed by its inverted ziggurat profile with the upper massing supported by thin clusters of white columns. By all optical account, the two buildings look quite different. Therefore one might be surprised to find the design author of the buildings are by the same Dutch architecture practice Mecanoo.
However once the buildings are experienced through its contexts and interiors, one begin to understand their similarities, particularly in its environmental responses. One might even argue there is a degree of commonalities in its sectional qualities. I have heard Francine Houben described the concept of the Kaohsiung project as being inspired by the Banyan tree. Before experiencing the project in person, I thought that statement was a BS/ post-rationalisation that architects typically come up with. However, after experiencing and walking through the site, I can literally sense the connection between intention and effect. The cave-like / carved-out space is a fine interpretation of the banyan tree canopy. Such extensive covered area provide a much needed shaded space for the public. The careful positioning of the cavernous spaces also helped to promote a comfortable breeze appreciated by the local residents. The overhead massing is occasionally illuminated by openings overhead, balancing both mystic and utility at the same time. Unlike the organic plan composition of Kaohsiung, the Tainan project takes on a legible and rational composition, nevertheless it also carries a heavy upper massing. Each upper stagger provides around a 20 meter overhang thus offer a much desired shading for the public plazas below. The upper most stack (4th floor where the multi-media room is located) addresses the issue of solar exposure by having a double facade.
Drawing Disappearance
© Ivy Ip
THE BUTTERFLY
Early learners would on occasions ask about the styles of architecture. They wonder about the different ways buildings can be shaped and are curious about their appearances: the why, the how come etc. These days the question of style is no longer discussed at the academy. It is probably prohibitive to talk about such superficial topics since the discussion seems to gravitate toward the politics of social justice and advancement in technology. And because of this trend, the question of style, asked by the high school students becomes that much more refreshing.
I don’t have much of a response on this topic except to tell them that a style is like one’s voice. Everyone has their own, and it will change through time naturally. For those who work hard at it, like singers and stage actors, their voices could be extended, embellished, and on occasions transformed through passion and prolonged practices. Kengo Kuma’s transformative ‘styles’ seem to be one of these examples.
On the occasion of the 2020(1) Tokyo Olympics, it was a pleasure to see images of Kuma’s earlier projects while dabbling with theories of post-modernism. Completed in 1991, the M2 building was originally designed as a showcase building for a car dealership. It was finished right at the inflection point of the PoMo movement.
I have been curious about this building for a while. If we follow the works in the likes of Isozaki, Ban, Ito, Ando, Maki, or Tange, there seems to be a gradual change in the way their buildings transform. Despite their formal differences and change, there is an underlying continuity. Not so in the case of Kuma. The M2 building was a rupture, a tsunami in the sea. It was designed just a few years before his ATAMI hotel, which became what he is known for today. Putting together the two projects within an architect’s decade is quite miraculous.
I have never seen the M2 building, only pictures of the main facade. So when a former student took the effort of photographing both the backside, inside, and underside of the building, I asked if I could share it. Ivy said she was greeted by the staff and they kindly showed her various spaces inside the building.
In Kuma’s Anti-Object, he described his M2 detour as a way of reflecting the various contours of Tokyo upon his return from his visiting scholar at Columbia University. That the M2 building was an attempt to encapsulate all of the fragmentations exhibited in the city.
So we take his words for it.
Fast forward thirty years. The former car dealership building is now a funeral parlor! How fascinating. As announced by the PoMo protagonists Rossi: “form persists and comes to preside over a built work in a world where functions continually become modified” such reading has certainly found a perfect alibi in the M2 building.
Thanks to Ivy Ip.