Saturday, November 27, 2010

Odd. Kalmanovitz Hall renovation



USF's Kalmanovitz Hall, once named
Campion Hall, underwent extensive renovation
in the summer of 2008. As a result
Kalmanovitz Hall and adjoining Cowell Hall are
now connected.

The new connection between both existing
structures is formed by a "high-tech" narrow
metal and glass strip that works as new
entrance to the Kalmanovitz Hall. If we
approach to the building from the Harney
Science Center located across campus, the
connection appears to be a new, elegant, and
appropriate solution that links two differently
styled buildings through a rather incorporeal
and light structure. When it is dark outside,
and the lights are on, the effect of a luminous
transition between the two structures is quite
beautiful.


But advancing closer brings the bitter realization
that all the previously observed elegance and
self control suddenly vanish. The building leans
forward awkwardly in an completely unnecessary
(and expensive to build) juggling gesture. Instead
of connecting its neighbors, it now competes with
them in a completely superfluous exercise to
maintain equilibrium. Conflict is created where
there was calm.

When asked about the difficulty of composing, the
great German composer Johannes Brahms
responded that for him composing was not at all
hard compared to the fabulous difficulty of leaving
superfluous notes under the table.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Even, Cathedral of Christ the Light. Oakland



The new Cathedral of Christ the Light in Oakland
(California) is a building with many virtues but also
with faults--lacking the necessary merits to be
considered a masterpiece.

It is remarkable the way natural light is the main
feature all throughout this building. Here light not
only illuminates the interior, but more importantly
creates a moving and rich spatial experience that
continuously changes with the exterior weather
changes. Light is used in this sacred space as a
metaphor of divine creative energy, and consequently,
as a way to express God's presence.

Geometry is another important element in this
building. The main nave has a pointed oval shape in
plan. This shape is the most basic and important
construction in sacred geometry
, often referred as
vesica pisces in Latin. In the Christian tradition,
vesica pisces
is a reference to Christ, because the
form is similar to
the shape of a fish. The word "fish"
translates into Greek as "ichthys", which is an acronym
for "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior".
This shape is
to be found not only in the floor plan layout of the
nave and basement mausoleum but also in the
cathedral ceiling and in a truncated version in the
main altar and in the entrance glass window.

When I visited this building I was very pleased with
the striking light effect and the beautiful high level
of crafting in almost every detail, from the glass
panels in the outer surfaces to the exquisite wood
screen or reredos near the altar. One of the effects that
satisfied me the most was the magnificent human
scale achieved inside this building. The main nave is
large enough to receive 1350 people seated, but at the
same time allowing a great sense of intimacy.

My main criticism for this building focuses on its lack
of monumentality. Monumentality in architecture can
be defined as an incorporeal quality inherent in a
structure which conveys the feeling of its eternity.
Cathedrals are structures that have been traditionally
associated with important, big, or lavish buildings.
Although this building is rather small for a cathedral,
I personally don't believe size or relevance are the
problems here. Monumentality of a building is a quality
related to a rather unusual state of perfection, essence,
harmony and serenity altogether, and this is the area
where the Cathedral of Christ the Light is lacking.

For example, there are too many competing direct and
indirect references to religious symbols and catholic
rituals. The repetition of the otherwise evident vesica
pisces
detracts from the transcendence and powerfulness
of the metaphor.

Also, the extensive use of interior wood louvers is
questionable. Wood conveys a temporary or provisional
quality, not very appropriate for the assumed "eternity"
of a cathedral. I believe that in this case wood was used
to establish a metaphoric image (another one) of boat or
ark frameworks.

In addition, the large figurative image of Jesus displayed
on the altar is itself very beautiful, but I believe it is
contradictory with the main abstract concept of light as
divine presence. In this regard, I remember churches
such as the Turku Resurrection Chapel where the lateral
and rather mysterious natural light is allowed to flow over
the main altar creating an abstract but powerful dramatic
and effective result. The only presence of a minimalistic
cross sunbathed by that beautiful light creates a memorable
and "eternal" image.






Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Odd. Maimonides Hospital





The Maimonides Hospital was designed
and built in San Francisco in 1950 by
one of the great architects of classic
Modernism, Erich Mendelsohn. The
Hospital ward faces south and overlooks
an intimate beautiful courtyard protected
from the noisy street by the Administration
front building. Ample terraces with
grateful balconies were the most
characteristic features of this sober and
elegant building.



Regrettably, a new Hospital director,
appointed after the building was already
finished, decided to reduce the size of the terraces
and to make major alterations on the main
ward facade composition without consulting
Mendelsohn. Mendelsohn was
terribly disappointed because he had even
offered his professional services as design
consulting free of charge before the renovation
were done.
Much more recently, in the 1990's a next
door medical building was built. The
architect decided to replicate the grateful
curves of the balconies with a ridiculously
gigantic bow window that occupies several
floor along the side facade. The out-of-scale
new high-tech building reacts with the serene
and harmonic Maimonides Hospital as an
elephant inside a delicate porcelain store
would do. I am convinced the architect of
that new building wanted to establish an
architectural "dialogue" between both structures,
but I truly believe that it is always good to
remember the old German proverb "Speaking
comes by nature, silence by understanding"



Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Even. Alberto Campo Baeza

Caja General de Ahorros de Granada, Spain
Alberto Campo Baeza 2001







Construction of the headquarters of the Caja General de
Ahorros de Granada, a local savings bank, resulted from
an architectural competition held in 1992 and won by the
Madrid-based architect and professor Alberto Campo
Baeza. The building is a massive cubic volume, 33 meters
in size made out of concrete and stone and situated on
a concrete plinth. Besides ample office space, there
is an eight-story atrium dramatically structured by four
monumental columns of three meters in diameter.
The dimensions are colossal, but are successfully
concealed from the outside by means of a large concrete
grid façade that works as a brise-soleil and strongly
defines the exterior image of the building. The atrium,
which Campo Baeza calls “an impluvium of light” is
illuminated by large skylights. The skylights collect the
bright Andalusian sunlight in a manner reminiscent of
the old Roman impluviums which collected rainwater.
Two beautifully alabaster-clad atrium walls help to filter
horizontal natural light and along with the impluviums
are another direct reference to the rich architectural
heritage of Roman Spain. Other images that the
architect kept in mind when designing the building were
the Cathedral of Granada and the Daily Mirror building
in London built by Owen Williams, which influenced
the Caja’s atmosphere for their masterful control of light
and monumental scale.

Cathedral of Granada & Daily Mirror building


Scale model


Saturday, November 20, 2010

Even. Seattle Central Library


I looked out the window and saw a library...

OMA's ambition is to redefine the library as an
institution no longer exclusively dedicated to
the book, but rather as an information store
where all potent forms of media – new and
old – are presented equally and legibly. In
an age in which information can be accessed
anywhere, it is the simultaneity of media
and (more importantly) the curatorship of
its ontents that will make the library vital.
(OMA)

Friday, November 19, 2010

Even. Chapel of St. Ignatius





'Steven Holl's dramatically simple Chapel of
St. Ignatius at Seattle University is, in every
sense, illuminating. This spare, striking chapel,
the cornerstone of Seattle University, offers
testimony to the power of architecture to awe
and amaze. It was designed by Washington-born
New Yorker Steven Holl, who believes that
architecture need not be tied to singular
meanings, one-dimensional explanations, or
unilateral ideas. His is an architecture of
accident, intricacy, complexity. Holl designs
buildings to be read much like poetry, on many
levels - form, metaphor, symbol, structure'.
-Beth Dunlop, House & Garden, 9/1/2004

More info here:
http://www.seattleu.edu/missionministry/chapel/

Odd. Dilbert


The ugly truth...

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Even. Alvaro Siza. An architect, an artist.

"Architecture has to speak its own language, touching the observer
at levels far deeper than those of rational thought"
(William J.R. Curtis, architecture historian and critic)


Santa Maria Church, Marco de Canavezes, Portugal. 1996.


Iberê Camargo Museum, Porto Alegre, Brazil. 2008.




Fernando Tavora after Alvaro Siza.
(A drawing within a drawing)

"The act of drawing becomes the way you express your thoughts and your memories to yourself and to the others, the way you foresee the construction of reality." (Alvaro Siza)

Friday, November 5, 2010

Odd. Our Lady of the Angels



One of the most important features of the magnificent
new Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels is natural
light. Light manipulation is used here to create a feeling
of peace and gathering. The architect, Rafael Moneo
had Le Corbusier's Ronchamp Chapel and Erik
Brygggman's Resurrection Chapel as two main references
when designing this space. As in these two churches, the
space of Los Angeles Cathedral is enveloped in a
mysterious luminous atmosphere, that conveys an
unmistakable spiritual aura.

Intruding in this luminous atmosphere, however, are
numerous large bronze chandeliers/speakers which
cause a disappointing visual pollution in the nave of the
church. The size and quantity of these fixtures create a
low visual plane that distracts from and very much
contradicts the intended scale and nature of the designed
space. (It is important to note that Moneo was not at all
involved in the decision processes of choosing decorative
features for this Cathedral.)

Moneo's Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels:


Le Corbusier's Ronchamp Chapel:


Erik Brygggman's Resurrection Chapel:

Even. Casa Malaparte



Some information from Wikipedia:

"Casa Malaparte is a house on Punta Massullo, on the
eastern side of the Isle of Capri, Italy. The house was
conceived around 1937 by architect Adalberto Libera
for Curzio Malaparte. Malaparte actually rejected
Libera's design and built the home himself with the
help of Adolfo Amitrano, a local stone mason.
Casa Malaparte is a red masonry box with reverse
pyramidal stairs leading to the roof patio. On the roof
is a freestanding curving white wall of increasing height.
It sits on a dangerous cliff 32 meters above the sea
overlooking the Gulf of Salerno. Access to this private
property is either by foot from the Town of Capri or by
boat and a staircase cut into the cliff.



The house can be reached by sea, on calm days only, as
the waves are cast upon treacherous rocks and there
has not been an official pier for many years. From the
sea, one must climb 99 steps to reach the house".



"Too much sky, and too much sea for one man alone;
and alas, not enough earth! Yet I already feel that I
love this poor island, as a sailor loves his drifting ship,
dismantled by the storm. Perhaps I also am but a
shipwrecked sailor, clinging to an overturned keel, a
piece of driftwood, a shelf of rock. From the castle

terrace,
I survey the sea...I look over the sea and I feel that I

am contemplating from the height of a tower the piazza
of a provincial town, an admirable scene for the comedy
of which Ulysses is the hero." (Curzio Malaparte)