Conversations With FormA Workbook For Students Of Architecture

London and New York

N. John Habraken

Andrés Mignucci

Jonathan Teicher

First published 2014

by Routledge

2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN

and by Routledge

711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017

Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business

© 2014 N. John Habraken, Andrés Mignucci and Jonathan Teicher

The right of N. John Habraken, Andrés Mignucci and Jonathan Teicher

to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by them in

accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents

Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or

utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now

known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in

any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the publishers.

Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or

registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation

without intent to infringe.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Habraken, N. J., author.

Conversations with form: a workbook for students of architecture / N. John

Habraken, Andrés Mignucci and Jonathan Teicher.

pages cm

Includes bibliographical references and index.

1. Architectural design—Problems, exercises, etc. 2. Architecture—

Composition, proportion, etc. I. Mignucci Giannoni, Andrés, author. II. Teicher,

Jonathan, author. III. Title.

NA2750.H23 2014

720.76--dc23

2014006789

ISBN: 978-0-415-70251-5 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-0-415-70252-2 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-315-77412-1 (ebk)

Publisher’s Note

This book has been prepared from camera-ready copy provided by

the authors

All images © the authors unless otherwise stated

Designed and typeset by Alexander Tochilovsky

Typeset in Akzidenz-Grotesk

cover illustration credits

Across, from top to bottom:

Tokyo International Forum. Tokyo (1996)

Rafael Viñoly, Architect. Photo Courtesy Rafael Viñoly

Architects, © Koji Horiuchi

Yoshijima House sake brewery. Hida Takayama,

Japan (1908)

Nishida Isaburo, master carpenter / builder.

Copyrighted photo by Timothy M. Ciccone, courtesy of

the photographer

Kanchanjunga Apartments. Mumbai (1983)

Charles Correa, Architect. Copyrighted photo courtesy

of the architect

Erechtheion. Athens (bc 406)

Often attributed to Mnesicles. Copyrighted photo by

N. John Habraken

Casares, Spain

Copyrighted photo by Maurice K. Smith from the

Intrinsic Attributes of Built Form Assemblage special

library collection of MIT Dome digitized content,

courtesy of the photographer

III

Table of Contents

V Introducing Design Play

VII Acknowledgments

1 Introduction

Design Plays

43 1. Zones of Transition

71 2. Articulating Exterior Building Form

93 3. Designing in Longitudinal Section

117 4. Designing in Cross-Section

141 5. Visualization and Resilience

153 6. Working with a Primary Architectural System

197 7. Combining Systems and Controlling Complexity

219 Afterword

239 Additional Reading

243 Index

IV

Habraken, Mignucci & Teicher have produced a book that is fundamental for students –

and perhaps, even more so, for practising architects. It outlines a series of exercises

(or design plays) that will increase your observational as well as your design skills.

Each play is lucidly presented, together with cogent examples. Given the state of our

profession today, that’s just what the doctor ordered.

— Charles Correa, Architect, planner and educator. RIBA Royal Gold Medalist, UIA

Gold Medalist and recipient of Japan’s Praemium Imperiale

Habraken, Mignucci and Teicher improve the “reset effect” of modern thought and

technology in architecture and urban design by enhancing the ability to learn by

observing the history and legacy of cities. Both theoretical and pedagogical, the book

is an indispensable tool to project humanized contemporary architecture in the built

environment. In architectural sustainability, the main quality is the possibility of change.

— Josep Maria Montaner, Architect and Professor of Theory of Architecture,

Escuela Técnica Superior de Arquitectura de Barcelona, Universidad Politécnica de

Cataluña (ETSAB-UPC)

Conversations With Form leads students of architecture to discover that design

apprenticeship − learning-by-doing − can ultimately be non-academic, original and

stimulating. The same holds true for professors of architecture who read it − and for

architects, engineers, officers and citizens whose daily practice involves transforming

the built environment. Conversations With Form helps us to understand how growth

and change have shaped and conferred texture to the built environment in the past …

and to what extent a built environment that is capable of successfully accommodating

growth and change can be envisaged and planned, freeing itself from current

functional, abstract, standardized, repetitive and interchangeable codes. A truly useful

and beautiful book, it also confirms that design is a good way to decode and interpret

the processes that have moulded historic cities and their contemporary expansion.

— Franco Mancuso, Architect, Faculty of Architecture, Università IUAV di Venezia, Italy

V

The underlying story behind this book begins in the 1980s, when John Habraken

unveiled a radically structured lecture class at MIT called Thematic Design. Although it

wasn’t a studio, the assignments − which he called design plays − consisted entirely of

hands-on design sketches. No one knew quite what to make of it.

As advanced students, we had already put in endless studio hours. Many of us had

worked as designers, some on important projects by renowned architects. A few of us

of were already licensed and more than a few had taught design.

We had been through our share of formal presentations and had the design process

down: It started with the program (building brief), site, problem statement and require-

ments. With luck, it ended with exquisite polished graphics that exuded bold creative

invention, elegance, style … and perhaps the thrill of the unexpected. Virtuoso perfor-

mance additionally included craft, attention to detail and a certain amount of selling the

jury on the presentation. Bonus points were awarded for overlaying the accompanying

narrative with touches of wit and carefully inserted references to abstract theory.

Then came Thematic Design. Our first assignment was literally to transform a hole in

a wall (see Play 1). That was it: No accompanying program, site or detailed theoretical

problem statement around which to craft a design. Certainly there was no building.

And for good measure, there would be sketches in lieu of finished drawings and no

presentation. It was like leaping into a sort of exquisitely slow design free fall.

Louis Kahn had famously opened a graduate studio at Penn by uttering the words

“Design a room” and walking out. Habraken, however, was not using the simple assign-

ment as a springboard for discussing abstract theory: He had cracked open the door-

way that eventually led to reflective performance, to slowing down and thinking deeply

about each step in making form hands-on and to understanding everyday environment

and how buildings had been designed for millennia prior to the 20th century. He under-

stood that we could only contribute to the health and self-sustaining character of built

environment if we changed our way of working.

Introducing Design Play

VI

But that emerged later. In the beginning, Habraken zeroed in on small seemingly insig-

nificant design moves. He read them with genuine fascination and discussed them as

if they were every bit as important as the final design: They were, of course.

Like would-be Olympic skiers consigned to the beginners’ slope or aspiring musicians

retreating to basic scales and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, we began at square one,

breaking down design into small steps and practicing fundamental form making. The

idea was to work with form hands-on, to observe and explore the possibilities that

it presented throughout step-by-step sequences of formal transformation. Working

through each deceptively simple sketch assignment took far more time than anyone

cared to admit. At the end of each play, final sketches on stapled sheets of 8½ ×11

(A4) paper were unceremoniously plopped onto the teacher’s desk.

That time investment led us to think and talk in a new and very different, immedi-

ate and hands-on way about making architecture. We learned to pay attention to the

everyday built environment that surrounded us and to observe, document and attempt

to master the tricks of the trade it embodied. We learned about historical and vernacu-

lar urban fabrics and building types, their complex ordering principles and organic

patterns, their self-sustaining capacity for continuous growth and change. We learned

how form in healthy built environment evolves as the coordinated product of count-

less hands operating on distinct levels through time. Through the mutually reinforcing

teachings of John Habraken and others, we began to see design as intervention within

the broader context of much larger-scale and longer-term built fields. The character,

intrinsic ordering principles and recurring patterns of those living fields were visible at

every scale in a dance of theme and variation.

A great deal of what we learned would not become clear for some time: Thematic design

and design plays had systematically provided solid grounding in design methods and a

substantive common language for discussing them. As a result, we had gone from using

persuasion to sell our designs to discussing design operationally and hands-on − in the

way a surgeon might describe a medical intervention or an expert tennis player might

describe a match to their respective peers. Design plays helped us to develop the base-

line skills and understanding necessary to create vital architecture in a world where no

one ever actually designs alone: the world architects actually inhabit.

Seven extended design plays and complementary observational sketches form the core

of this book. They descend directly from the first early introductory plays − enriched by

the ways in which design plays have been taught and performed in studios, classes and

workshops by Habraken’s students − and their own students − throughout the world.

− AM and JT

VII

We would like to thank our collaborators and readers for sharing their invaluable

insight, support and friendship: Jia Beisi, Thomas Chastain, Renée Chow, Alexander

Cuesta, John R. Dale, Christina Gryboyianni, Belén Hermida, R. Thomas Hille, Stephen

Kendall, Kazunobu Minami, Josep María Montaner, Snehanshu Mukherjee, Zaida

Muxi, Rodrigo Pérez de Arce, Henry Plummer and Barry Zevin.

In addition, the following teachers, photographers, writers and architects, firms and

families generously contributed to the rich set of references, precedents and examples

that illustrate this book: Manuel and Francisco Aires Mateus, Alberto Campo Baeza,

Stefan Behnisch, Frank Bijdendijk, Norman Carver, Ana and José Coderch, Charles

Correa, Bernard Deffet, Rose Engel, Herman Hertzberger, Leon Krier, Raymond Lee,

Chan-Li Lin, Wolfgang M. A. Moroder, Heinz Müller, Mauricio Pezo and Sofia von

Ellrichshausen, Norma Price, Stéphane Samuel Rubin, Judith Sheine, Maurice Smith,

Rafael Viñoly, Craig Whitaker and Enric Xercavins.

A number of diverse institutions supported this project in various ways, notably including:

MIT, the University of Puerto Rico and the Imre Halasz Trust.

We would particularly like to thank our editor Fran Ford at Routledge for believing in

and championing this project from the beginning and Emma Gadsden for patiently

and firmly guiding its every step into production. Book and cover designer Alexander

Tochilovsky has earned our boundless gratitude and admiration.

We thank our families for their tireless patience and support.

Above all, we thank our students, for guiding us and allowing us to play along throughout

all these years.

To all – dank u wel, gracias, thank you!

NJH • AM • JT

Acknowledgments

0.1 Row houses along a canal, Amsterdam

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

1

Introduction

Consider this hypothetical scenario:

A pioneering program to demolish and replace of a number of individual row houses

along Amsterdam’s canals has been approved by a coalition of stakeholders. Key

stipulations include:

• Each new building will be designed by a different architect.

• It will be designed to anticipate, accommodate, adjust, adapt and evolve in response

to continuous and accelerating change in urban patterns, demographics, tenants,

uses, technologies and lifestyles.

• Each selected architect will design forward without nostalgia, with unapologetically

contemporary sensibilities and sustainability.

• Individually and as a group, the designs must nonetheless fit in with the historic neigh-

borhood and structures. Co-existing is not sufficient: Their intervention must build

upon and bolster rather than diminish local environmental coherence and patterns.

Based on the statement of qualifications, portfolio of realized projects and client

recommendations you submitted in Phase I of the competition, you have advanced to

the Redevelopment Authority’s shortlist. Now come the deciding Phase II interviews.

The stakes are high: The Authority hopes that your project will serve as a basis for

developing general rules, processes, procedures and guidelines for architects work-

ing on other sites throughout the historic urban core. The interview will focus on your

underlying approach and methods for architectural intervention rather than presenting

the fine points of form and image in your proposed diagrammatic design.

What specific background tools, skills and body of knowledge will you need to success-

fully undertake such a project?

What successful precedents will you build upon?

What approach and methods will guide and structure your design intervention?

Opening Scenario

2 INTRODUCTION

CONVERSATIONS WITH FORM is a design workbook for students of architecture. It

is based on design plays – sketch exercises that focus on design tools and skills that

are useful in any design context and critical in the design of everyday built environment.

The plays share a common viewpoint regarding the underlying structure of the built

environment. From this perspective, spatial fields and building forms – the basic

context within which we, as architects, intervene – represent a complex and highly

ordered system of wholes and parts. They come with intrinsic rules that must be under-

stood through direct observation and hands-on form making.

The design skills emphasized in the plays complement the basic methods taught in

design studio. The need for these additional skills and tools arises out of major trans-

formations within the built environment over the past century, along with a profound

shift in the design role played by architects.

Design and ChangeThe best investment is in the tools

of one’s own trade.

— Benjamin Franklin

0.2 The Great Urban Extension of Amsterdam

(ca. 1650). Drawing from The Structure of the Ordinary

©1998 N. John Habraken , based on a map by

Joan Blaeu

The 17th century ring of canals, streets and blocks that

encircles the medieval core of Amsterdam was laid out to

suit a well-established range of urban lot sizes. Those lots

had in turn proven their ability to accommodate the preva-

lent canal house building type and its potential use, growth

and change over time. Four hundred years after construc-

tion began, individual parts of the fabric have been renewed,

upgraded or replaced countless times. The centuries-old

buildings and public space continue to thrive.

DESIGN AND CHANGE 3

BACKGROUND

Thematic built environment

Throughout history, everyday buildings have always shared a few key similarities:

• They are built to grow, evolve, transform and endure over the long term in a complex,

fine-grained and organic manner.

• Their individual spatial and formal character tends to be thematic: composed of

variations based on a series of broader common themes that recur throughout the

surrounding built environment.

• Their form, design and character tend to arise from design decisions that transcend

particular short-term uses.

Such everyday buildings traditionally formed the fundamental building blocks of stable

long-term urban fabric. Rarely was their initial form and organization tightly molded to

suit any specific program. They housed a broad and fluid mix of everyday life, leisure,

production, commercial and ritual activities.

For each individual building to contribute to the overall character, coherence and

furtherance of society and its long-term built environment, it was essential to share

common ground. And, in fact, owners, builders and designers tended to share far more

in common: their setting, world view, way of life, culture, way of building, form language

and underlying understanding regarding the built environment and its broad use. No

one built alone or in isolation. No one built for just one brief moment in time.

For all of these reasons, everyday buildings arose in theme and variation.

Fine-grained growth, change, adaptation and renewal over time

The built environment was ordinarily fine-grained, evidencing small-scale patterns

of individual intervention. Patterns and structures that support fine-grained growth,

change, adaptation and renewal over time were woven into its urban fabric. The overall

layout, dimensions, spatial sequences and rhythms of public space supported small-

scale growth that was incremental and additive.

The parceling of land for everyday buildings was similarly fine-grained. A building lot

was sufficient to provide an individual owner with enough room to construct one build-

ing of the prevailing building type together with an adjacent outdoor space that was

sized to accommodate a range of everyday activities. Those uses included various

kinds of small-scale production, additional storage and eventual building expansion.

Such built-in capacity for inhabitation, growth and change ensured that increments

of change over time could continue to occur bottom-up. Urban fabrics endured and

evolved as a result.

Building types

Many buildings throughout urban fabric follow the same

general schema. While rarely identical, they exhibit similar

scale, form, site placement, structure, spatial sequence,

sectional principles, room layout, building elements and

materials. They also display similar patterns of transfor-

mation through time. Architects often use the blanket

term building type to group such similar buildings.

Vernacular building types evolve gradually. They become

widely adopted only after an extended period of experi-

mentation and refinement. As independent projects

occur across a given urban field, they incorporate many

similar strands of transformation that eventually con-

verge as a rough sort of formal consensus builds around

solutions that perform particularly well. As many people

elect to build in a similar way, the type emerges and

becomes prevalent. Each vernacular type may therefore

be understood as the convergence of countless inde-

pendent parallel processes.

To state this in other terms: Each building type embod-

ies a number of implicit environmental themes. Each

subsequent building of that type presents variations on

those themes.

4 INTRODUCTION

Each built environment and associated culture was also selective, steered by individual

acts of inhabitation: Some building types turned out to be rigid and unable to adapt

to ongoing technological developments. Some ultimately failed to accommodate

continuous change. As buildings continued to be built, those types would be bypassed.

Gradually, they would disappear.

Other, more open and accommodating building types adapted easily to many different

uses. Over time, they grew widespread and commonplace.

Non-thematic buildings

The buildings that composed the urban fabric and housed everyday activities were

organized into blocks. In the midst of that repetitive thematic urban structure and

rhythm, a limited number of non-thematic or “special” buildings of conspicuously

different character, location, size, type, construction and/or use were inserted. Build-

ings such as places of worship, seats of government and public facilities were often

conspicuous because of their style, high quality construction, costly materials and

ornamentation. Frequently, they were monumental in the sense of being great in

importance, extent, size, ambition and/or scope.

Nonetheless, at the core, non-thematic buildings – despite their apparent unique-

ness – remained deeply rooted in local ways of building. They tended to be based

on traditional local craftsmanship, building types and materials – supplemented with

the specialized labor of imported carpenters, masons and sculptors who used less

common techniques and materials. Non-thematic buildings joined with everyday

places as integral and essential parts of the larger built fabric. Their combined mass-

ing in urban blocks shaped the public space of streets, squares and other open areas.

For centuries, intertwining public and private interests united with institutions within

this general structure to shape the form of cities and towns and strategically locate

places of particular importance.

How thematic and non-thematic buildings transformed

Within their common setting, thematic and non-thematic buildings responded to

change over time in fundamentally different ways.

Everyday buildings could survive for generations only by enabling and accommodat-

ing fine-grained change. In response to each particular inhabitant, they continuously

evolved through acts of expansion, upgrading, renewal and repurposing, with no fixed

final form. The inherent physical, social and territorial structures of the built environ-

ment enabled individual rooms, apartment units and entire buildings to be transformed

freely and independently. The character and cycle of change and the parties who

controlled change were often different at each scale.

DESIGN AND CHANGE 5

Such partial and incremental change stood in sharp contrast to the need for perma-

nence of non-thematic buildings. Whereas owners, professional builders and/or

master builders built ordinary buildings based on familiar building types, monumental

buildings tended to be unique and designed by architects. Brick, stone and concrete

were building materials of choice because they conveyed a sense of gravitas and

rock-solid permanence. They weathered comparatively little and slowly. Shadow lines,

ornamental carving and overall sculptural form could therefore be built to last.

It is important to note that virtually the entire pantheon of architectural history repre-

sents such non-thematic buildings. Although everyday buildings and types have always

constituted the vast majority of the built environment, they remain largely unobserved.

A fundamental shift in form, control and change

When we examine historical urban fabric throughout the world over time, similar

patterns of ongoing gradual refinement punctuated by occasional cascades of rapid

change emerge.

That universal pattern began to shift dramatically in the latter half of the 19th century.

As civilization began to reorganize rapidly in many ways, the effects rippled through-

out the built environment. The scale and population density of individual projects and

of urban centers increased. So did their technical, social and regulatory complex-

ity. Urban fabrics also began to incorporate vast new infrastructures and transport

networks to serve burgeoning populations and mitigate a number of different emerg-

ing pressures. Those pressures and responses heralded unprecedented changes of

enormous social and practical consequence.

Large-scale change now became continuous and ubiquitous. It also occurred with

unprecedented speed and breadth. Change throughout the built environment was

frequently driven by the rapid adoption of emerging technologies in response to

increased functional, technological and social demands. Change and diversity in

demographics, tastes, lifestyles and preferences would continue to accelerate

throughout increasingly networked lives. Behind the scenes, capital, control and top-

down standardization and regulation were rapidly consolidating. Builders began to set

newly networked utilities and new systems and equipment in place piecemeal within

increasingly large buildings and complexes.

As onsite complexity and the need for coordination between trades multiplied, archi-

tects were drawn wholesale – unavoidably, if eagerly – into the design of ordinary

places. Appropriating methods, tools and values developed for the design of non-

thematic pyramids, cathedrals, palaces, villas and monuments, the profession set

about inventing or reinventing not only train and metro stations, government buildings

and factories, but everyday apartment buildings, shops, office buildings and schools.

6 INTRODUCTION

The consequences were often severe:

Local building types had been refined over hundreds or thousands of years in a

process that allowed for continuous long-term fine-grained growth and change. They

were now discarded. Architects embraced a new principle: Each individual building or

type would be reinvented from scratch based on functional programming, no matter

how ordinary or temporary the use it housed.

Urban fields that were open to bottom-up small-scale individual acts of transformation

driven by inhabitation were replaced by large-scale projects featuring a very different

and limited kind of customization. End-users were instead offered a choice between

so-called model units that were sometimes minimally customizable. The units were

professionally designed to suit statistically average users based on current abstract

stereotypical program data generated for a very limited range of functions. Their inte-

rior layout was intended to last for the life of the building.

For millennia, humans had inhabited and transformed ubiquitous building types that

served a broad range of uses. Now society would instead shape each project indi-

vidually to embody a combination of function, process flow, adjacency and quantified

program – all based on short-term programming.

That widely adopted practice – tightly tailoring the dimensions and functional capacity

of ordinary buildings based on a narrow and predefined programmatic range of short-

term functions – has seriously degraded the built-in ability of everyday buildings to

accommodate growth and change.

Nor is the problem limited to buildings with everyday uses. Cycles of technological

innovation have become so rapid that construction simply cannot match the speed

of product development: In specialized facilities such as research hospitals, it has

become increasingly common to begin redesigning state-of-the-art equipment rooms

before the interior walls are fully in place: The design is already obsolete.

Additional factors further contribute to early obsolescence in dwellings and work-

places, rooms and buildings of every type and scale. They include the ever-increasing

turnover of tenants and shortening cycles of change in building use, equipment and

furnishings. Such dramatic shifts are of great design consequence and promise.

Nonetheless, they have yet to substantially reshape the design methods we employ or

the buildings we create.

Fine-grained change and sustainability

Historically, continuous incremental growth and change in response to the direct indi-

vidual demand and initiative of inhabitants allowed built environments to thrive, endure

and build richness and beauty over centuries. As small-scale changes built up, they

gradually impacted the collective form of neighborhoods and cities. Above all, small-

DESIGN AND CHANGE 7

scale initiative resulted in the rich fine-grained fabric and human-scale diversity that

we witness throughout the streets and public spaces of historic urban centers as well

as traditional villages and towns.

The fundamental ability of each tenant to customize material and space at a personal

scale – to paint, to build a new wing or to modernize a kitchen or a storefront without

disrupting the larger scale – was crucial. It ensured that the local built environment

meshed with inhabitants’ individual requirements and preferences. It also ensured that

the buildings that housed such individual tenancies were sustainable.

As everyday interventions in the built environment began to grow larger, they also

became more coarse-grained, more rigid, more subject to top-down organization

and control and, as a result, less vital. Their ability to accommodate ongoing cycles of

change at varying scales and timeframes diminished.

Restoring the capacity for bottom-up change

Design plays introduce specific skills and observational exercises to bolster design-

ers’ ability to understand existing built environment and the innate capacity of its

varied typological forms. They also highlight the complementary legacies that archi-

tects have inherited:

As architects, we bring a unique perspective and an ability to balance abstract theory

with hands-on practical knowledge, skills and tools. We design both non-thematic and

ordinary environment, both the jewel and its setting. And we must perform each with

equal care and equally appropriate tools.

We now intervene in the everyday built environment’s formerly autonomous environ-

mental processes and contexts to help shape the ongoing sequential evolution of

form. We also design in the broader context of waves of change that continue to alter

patterns of social, economic and physical organization and control of society. Every

design presents a proposal for environmental change. Every act of building transforms

what is already in place. Our design skills, environmental understanding and mastery

of the tools of our trade determine the extent to which we can successfully effect

positive change.

Despite our lofty aspirations, there are clear limits to what even the most talented

architect is able to achieve. Nonetheless, in designing beautiful, functional and sustain-

able everyday places, architects alone can restore the built environment’s capacity for

small-scale bottom-up dynamic transformation. That ongoing restoration proceeds

from the local to the general, one project at a time.

8 INTRODUCTION

Interaction between designers

Traditionally, ordinary environments first built out at a relatively large scale. Acts of

inhabitation then further articulated form by building up smaller-scale modifications

gradually. Over time, rooms, buildings, façades and urban fabrics would embed actions

by countless parties. It was implicitly understood that in the everyday environment, no

one could or should fully project, dictate or manage change throughout vast and vital

urban fabrics over time. No one could predict the ways in which countless individuals

acting over time would articulate form.

To accommodate constant change with a minimum of disruption or cascading second-

ary effects, built environments throughout the world evolved and self-organized simi-

larly. They shared a common descending hierarchy of urban, building and interior

levels, each of which became associated with a discrete sphere of intervention.

Relationships between environmental levels – and between designers operating on

those levels – continue to frame how, when and how much change can occur … and

what else it may affect. The urban level has traditionally accommodated smaller-scale

initiatives that erect, modify, renew or replace individual buildings. For buildings to

have long useful lifespans, parts of their interiors must in turn be free to transform

independently, to evolve and adapt to the pressures and requirements of inhabita-

tion. Enabling everyday form to be transformed via bottom up initiatives in an ongoing

conversation with form turns out to be essential in shaping healthy and sustainable

long-term environment. The theme of transformation therefore runs throughout the

design plays in this book.

The spheres of intervention that correspond to each level of the built environment are

well defined. However, the boundaries between designers or between actual forms

are often less clear. In cases such as the transition from private territory to public

space, they may initially occur anywhere along a continuum and are subject to subse-

quent renegotiation. For instance, as canopies, awnings, planters, benches, chairs,

signs, vending displays and street furniture line urban sidewalks, they frequently spill

over into public space and claim it for private use.

For all of these reasons, form making is by its nature dialogic. It requires a great deal of

direct and sophisticated conversation between the various parties in control of form.

Creating livable everyday environments has always required a great deal of interaction,

exchange and – where different scopes of work or levels of environment meet – will-

ingness to adjust form and compromise. That conversation relies upon the ability and

willingness of designers to share a common and mutually understood language of

words and forms. Subsequently, coherent and sustainable everyday built environment

can be built on the common ground of agreed-upon and well-established environmen-

tal first principles, understandings and patterns.

DESIGN AND CHANGE 9

Zoning laws, building codes, enforceable design guidelines or covenants and

codes increasingly replace direct negotiation in the creation of contemporary built

environment. Nonetheless, controls, boundaries and guidelines issued by govern-

ing authorities from the top down are a poor substitute for actual conversation

between peers.

Individual design projects are likewise built on structured internal conversation with

form and strategic distribution of design tasks. Communication is further mediated

by the specific forms individual designers control. Team members with divergent

expertise, sensibilities, responsibilities and training must therefore learn to speak a

common language of form and design. Conversations With Form accordingly intends

to help designers become fluent in the language of form – to aid designers in writing

or speaking form and further their ability to consider, execute and control exploratory

sequences of design moves. In encouraging operational conversation about form

among designers, it paves the way for productive collaboration.

In addition to enhanced tools and skills for intervening in the built environment, the

chapters explore seven different basic aspects of environmental fields. Along the way,

useful methodological concepts that arise from hands-on design are also situated

within a broader conceptual framework.

Throughout the plays, form making comes first. Theoretical discussion and under-

standing emerge from hands-on design experience.

10 INTRODUCTION

Architectural skill and judgment build through direct observation of what is already in

place as well as through hands-on form making: Just as explicit anatomical knowledge

must precede surgery, explicit understanding of form is necessary for successful envi-

ronmental intervention.

Observation reveals not only how great architects throughout the ages have shaped

non-thematic buildings, but also how local cultures have perfected everyday building

types, forms and techniques over centuries to serve their collective purpose. Legacy

traditions of everyday building throughout the world – from hôtels particuliers in Paris

to canal houses in Amsterdam to row houses in Taiwan – reveal rich ways of structur-

ing form and space that are intrinsically well suited to a specific region, local culture

and time.

Their wellsprings of embedded knowledge are no less valuable to succeeding genera-

tions. Observing, recognizing and documenting the principles and universal patterns of

growth and transformation that guide ordinary form provides the designer with a vast

knowledge resource of precedents. That body of knowledge represents an essen-

tial prerequisite for intervening purposefully within the fabric of existing built environ-

ments. It is an obvious starting point for design. The plays therefore require moving

beyond the confines of your studio walls to recognize, observe, record and reflect on

discrete parts of the built field in a structured way.

Observation of everyday environment gradually reveals intertwined ordering princi-

ples, continuities, themes, types and patterns of form evolving through time. Ultimately,

it leads designers to experience the built environment as a living organism renewed by

never-ending series of partial transformations.

While the built environment that surrounds us remains subject to continuous trans-

formation, that change often occurs behind the scenes. At any given time, the vast

majority of buildings appear complete. They are filled with everyday activity and signs

of inhabitation. Nonetheless, what we observe represents a moment within an ongo-

ing sequence of incremental interventions. Knowledge of everyday built environment,

a discriminating eye and substantial prior experience are often required to detect the

underlying signs of ongoing processes of change.

Observing where, why, how and how often changes recur also makes visible the larger

underlying structure of the built environment. The more reliable and consistent your

ability to spot signs of past change, the more you will perceive the inner workings of

the built environment and how its structure innately accommodates inevitable growth

and change.

Observing ChangeWhat does not change is the will to change.

— Charles Olson

PRECEDENT DOCUMENTATION 1 − OUDE KERK 11

Tracing the history of a building’s form is often a difficult and complex undertaking. A. van

Rooijen’s documentation of the building history of Amsterdam’s Old Church (Oude Kerk)

provides a dramatic example of sequential transformation of a non-thematic building. It could

never have been documented without consulting historic drawings spanning eight centuries.

The original church building of 1306 was modest. Over the centuries, that base form

witnessed a series of interventions and transformations executed in stone and timber that

created a new and fundamentally different whole. The building as it stands today, its purpose,

interior and use continue to evolve.

0.4 Interior perspective. Engraving by Jan Goeree, 1680. Image courtesy of

Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. 1905 bequest of Mrs. Brandt and Mrs. Brandt

of Amsterdam

0.3 Bird’s eye view. Detail of woodcut map by

Cornelis Anthoniszoon, 1544

Precedent Documentation 1

The Old Church, Amsterdam

1306–present

12 INTRODUCTION

1306

1359

1330

1370

PRECEDENT DOCUMENTATION 1 − OUDE KERK 13

0.5 Transformations 1306–Present. Drawings © 1985

A. van Rooijen. Originally published in De Oude Kerk te

Amsterdam in vogelvlucht (Bird’s eye view of the Old Church

in Amsterdam). Reprinted courtesy of Stichting Oude Kerk

te Amsterdam

1414

1560

1462

PRESENT

14 INTRODUCTION

Over the centuries, Rome’s original 5th century Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore was

encased in a series of interventions, including Michelangelo’s Capella Sforza. As part

of a larger study of urban transformation, Rodrigo Pérez de Arce diagrams the additive

process of transformation from the original basilica form to its present state.

Pérez de Arce shows how the basilica can be understood at an intermediate scale as

a configuration of autonomous parts. Even when isolated from the original complex,

these parts retain their integrity, legibility and usefulness. Each part is in turn composed

of smaller pieces.

The ability to recognize, select and independently manipulate such intermediate parts

quickly becomes crucial in creating sequential series of partial transformations.

0.7 Plan of the completed building by Paul Letarouilly, 18600.6 Contemporary photo © Francesco Scaringi,

courtesy of the photographer

Precedent Documentation 2

Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome

432–present

0.8 Transformation over time:

PRECEDENT DOCUMENTATION 2 − SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE 15

Drawings © 1980 Rodrigo Pérez de Arce from

Urban Transformations, courtesy of the author

1 The original basilica building

2 Addition of the side chapels and portico

3 Creation of the transept and addition of

elements to the back façade

4 The building is regularized with the

construction of a new entrance and

normalization of the side façades.

0.9 Conceptual deconstruction. Perimeter

buildings with the original basilica not shown.

The new perimeter retains its integrity even

when isolated from the original complex.

1

3

2

4

16 INTRODUCTION

0.10 Graphic overview of the lives of

4 generations

0.11 Simple shop with living space above (ca. 1946)

The 1st generation’s building and site when post-

WWII rebuilding commenced

Kazunobu Minami’s graphic chronicle – partially reproduced here – documents and

interweaves sweeping transformations in his family’s lives, their mixed-use row house

and how they used it over the course of 90 years and four generations. Against the

backdrop of family members arriving or departing, marrying and growing businesses,

he carefully documents row house expansion upward and into the back yard over a

period 35 years. Direct access from the street entry on the north to the back of the

site is preserved along the western edge of the long narrow walled lot. As the building

expands, interior courtyards introduce daylight and ventilation along its length. The

façade, which faces out onto public space, remains largely unchanged throughout.

Precedent Documentation 3

Merchant’s House, Himeji, Japan

1946 –1984

SEGUEl-tCl!01' nil' fAM II-""

1&90

,900

MOl,/5',....

,9"

IV 7Q

.".c.... r 1'0 Llvll

DO'

, 4v.f 1,/\11~ '"

4 , Gtll(tA,._S HOP

""As'" ST,toHO

'lSi"""" KITCHEW

COH TIHU 'E ToTWE 8-ItOTIU:J:= 'SHo,-,Se.

";: OM 1 ST. 6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J MA ItItJ"<i&T O "ntf _NO 0," WW1J. <OA,... ....~~ ())

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

IV 7Q

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

6t!:N'Ml"I .~·J

HOPHOPHOPHOP

PRECEDENT DOCUMENTATION 3 − MERCHANT’S HOUSE 17

0.12 Expanded row house (ca. 1960). New secondary

living quarters face the garden and the sanitary

facilities have been relocated and expanded at the

time of the 1st generation’s retirement.

0.13 Expanded building and further developed site

(ca. 1984). The greatly expanded row house now

accommodates the shop, three generations and

guest quarters.

Freehand site and row house documentation in plans

and section. Thematic design course drawings © 1984

Kazunobu Minami, reprinted courtesy of the architect

g

S~Of(~S.LL!. fl ot:CAJr,AUA'S", fHC'TO """rU:l"'t..$)

LI & & a[O~

· f 2_. 6r:.,q,.o...·o l't

~o( tr:~e-oV

1ST. FLoo"

A~ WW;. T~ lHE R.En't!,M~

0" "I"'4E I Sf Cre"U-2All QN

'Hl~N's ~

30ltP Ch"'''''TtO''' .6 u t!STS !too"""CLOSU" •

U

s....I"

<"S~Op

' 0(

U-'L1 ... , .... j).&. . lrp 1l.00"'"'.T.&e w. Il. ...."'".."..

o

N

1sT. FLOO"

~S~S

~S~S

~S

~S

~S~S

~S~S

~S~S

~S~S

~S~S

~S

~S ~S

oo

o

o

oCh"'''''TtO'''

"I"'4E

"I"'4E

"I"'4E"I"'4E

R.En't!,M~R.En't!,M~R.En't!,M~R.En't!,M~R.En't!,M~

18 INTRODUCTION

URBAN LEVEL

Urban design interventions structure or restructure urban blocks; create, resize or

realign streets and alleys; and create or transform plazas or other public spaces. Only

after urban intervention has defined streets, parallel urban networks and building lots

can building design commence. Subsequently, whenever and however urban change

such as road realignment occurs, it often forces buildings and other “lower-level” forms

to adjust, triggering new and involuntary interventions.

There is always a certain overlap in control: Whether in the earliest Mesopotamian

cities or in medieval Kyoto, rulers have at times strategically exercised blanket control

over ostensibly private buildings, their size, materials, details and decorations, uses

and public faces. In the late 15th century, the planning commission (maestri di strada)

of the newly resurgent Vatican was granted the right to expropriate and demolish

private property specifically for the public good. Thereafter, Renaissance planners

began to experiment with unifying the façades that surround public space for purely

aesthetic reasons. Such interventions were often accompanied by shifts in boundaries

of public/private control.

The first planned square in Paris was the Place des Vosges (1612, formerly Place

Royale). Its architect (presumably Baptiste du Cerceau) designed a unified repetitive

arcaded façade to surround the symmetrical public square. Behind individual portions

of the façade, private owners who had purchased independent lots employed different

architects to erect independent buildings.

Observing Levels and Layers of Transformation

Defining physical hierarchy

operationally

Urban forms occupy a higher level than building forms,

in a particular sense that is best defined operationally:

Since a shift in urban form can force buildings to adjust

while the reverse is not generally the case, urban form

is hierarchically “above” building form. This general

definition of physical hierarchy equally describes the

relationship between the trunks and largest branches

of trees, between arterials and connecting secondary

roads, between streets and the buildings that line them,

between buildings and rooms and between rooms and

interiors. It also describes in operational terms the hier-

archical working relationship between urban designers,

architects and interior designers.

OBSERVING LEVELS AND LAYERS OF TRANSFORMATION 19

0.15 Aerial view © 2013 Google Image/IGN-France

0.16 View from the square. Photo © 2011 Jonathan Teicher

Place des Vosges, the first planned square in Paris (1612)

0.14 Ancient Arab-Islamic urban fabric, Marrakech,

Morocco. Aerial photo © 2013 Google Image/

Digital Globe

20 INTRODUCTION

0.17 Formal rectangular geometrical plan

superimposed upon an existing square.

Plaza Mayor, Madrid (1619, rebuilt 1790). Diagram

showing original layout of the Plaza del Arrabal with

the new geometry of the rectangular Plaza Mayor

overlay in dotted lines. Drawing © 2013 Andrés

Mignucci, adapted from public artwork onsite

Although Madrid’s Plaza Mayor was initially conceived in the second half of the 16th

century under Phillip II of Spain, it began construction in 1617, just after the Place des

Vosges. In Madrid, the decision to retrofit pure geometry and aesthetic uniformity into

the irregular existing 15th century Plaza del Arrabal required an extraordinary tempo-

rary shift in the boundary between public and private. Existing buildings that substan-

tially interfered with the re-creation of the square were taken and demolished in whole

or part. In some cases, existing buildings that followed the basic realignment and faced

the square survived. There, the crown under Phillip III expanded the public realm to

assume control of every surviving building façade to a depth of about three meters.

The building fronts were demolished, incorporated into the arcaded design of the new

uniform façade and rebuilt as a unitary monumental façade to suit the king’s personal

taste. Control of the reconfigured building bays then reverted to individual owners.

A sharply contrasting relationship between public and private space may be found

in historic tightknit vernacular medinas throughout North Africa. There, buildings

were continuously walled, with little or no façade decoration or other elaboration of

streetscapes. Public space between the walls was kept to a minimum. In that context,

individuals were often permitted to seize and privatize public space – narrowing, build-

ing over or even blocking streets – as long as neighbors didn’t object. That ability of

individual lower level interventions and forms to force major adjustments in upper level

form represents a rare exception to a universal environmental rule.

worj

PANADERIA

C. OE lAS POSTAS

C. OEl PESO REAL

C .OEATOCHA

PLAZA MAYOR

PLAZA DEL ARRABAL

CARN1CEAIA

orj

orj

orj

orjorjorj

orj

orjorjorjorj

orjorj

orj

o oo oooo

OBSERVING LEVELS AND LAYERS OF TRANSFORMATION 21

Figs 0.18–0.20 Public Plaza, Isabela, Puerto Rico (2004)

Andrés Mignucci, Architect

0.18 1900: Postcard showing planted parterres forming

quadrants in the plaza design

0.19 1996: Aerial photo showing removal of planted

parterres in which only three trees remained;

addition of an acoustic band shell; and new parking

around perimeter. Photo © 1996 Andrés Mignucci

0.20 2004: Aerial photo: The new design demolishes the

bandstand and reintroduces the idea of the planted

quadrants. Photo © 2004 Kenneth Rexach, courtesy

of the architect

22 INTRODUCTION

BUILDING LEVEL

Transformation at the building level most often includes expansion, contraction or subdi-

vision of the building as a whole, façade changes or various other changes brought about

by codes and regulations. It can occur within a brief timeframe or span decades.

Expansion

The need to shelter growing numbers − whether of patients, family members, workers,

parishioners or students − and to expand operations or equipment will often trigger

expansion. Patterns of expansion vary by culture and building type.

As a rule, building extensions are most heavily regulated where they threaten to impact

the public realm. Building the front façade outward is therefore inherently difficult.

Frequently, it is limited by law and requires extended negotiations. Forward expansion

of heavy permanent structure such as arcades, portes cochères or cantilevered upper

stories is increasingly rare: Even when permitted by law, prevailing social patterns

generally discourage it. Buildings may instead extend onto sidewalks using lightly

framed awnings, temporary walls for cafés, planters or other relatively impermanent

secondary elements. Less commonly, the arrival of second-story retail may trigger new

lightly framed stairs.

For practical reasons, extending the form toward the back of the lot remains the

preferred growth pattern. In Amsterdam’s canal houses and elsewhere, rearward

expansion gives rise to modest building wings and also small freestanding “back-

houses.” The latter follow several approaches: In the first, the backhouse is placed

adjacent to a small courtyard toward the rear of the lot, thereby preserving garden

space between the two buildings. Back houses otherwise occur close to the main

house, connecting via a short breezeway and preserving the remaining garden space

at the rear of the lot. Traditional Taiwanese shop houses with similarly deep but narrow

lots developed a similar pattern of alternating courts and back buildings. After building

freestanding structures in back, owners might subsequently infill bounded open space

or otherwise expand to the sides where space was available.

Contraction and subdivision

Buildings may also contract following partial demolition in response to differential

aging, changing economic circumstances, the expansion of public infrastructures,

etc. For example, a building wing or secondary buildings within a lot may be demol-

ished when the street is widened, when they become outmoded or when a building is

partially abandoned after programmatic functions are relocated.

Internal subdivision may otherwise occur. As houses are converted into multi-tenant

space, shifting partitions and redefinition of public and private space transform their inter-

nal organization and experiential character. When such small-scale change becomes a

prevalent pattern, it eventually affects urban density, utilities, parking and zoning.

OBSERVING LEVELS AND LAYERS OF TRANSFORMATION 23

Façade changes

Repainting is the simplest, most cost-effective and common way to renew, preserve

and/or rebrand façades (and other building planes), fundamentally altering their

appearance without costly construction.

The next most common varieties of change involve windows, dormers, balconies and

porches. Window openings are filled in. New fenestration is cut into existing walls.

Bay windows pop out of pre-existing window openings. Balconies and porches are

attached. Such additions and alterations occur throughout the course of a building’s

lifetime.

More radical changes frequently accompany the conversion of residential buildings to

commercial use. In Amsterdam, heavy ancient brick façades now hover above increas-

ingly transparent glazed storefronts. When large-scale conversion occurred along

Boston’s Newbury Street, fenced residential row house front yards eventually gave

way to broad sidewalks with terraces and cafés; awnings and other lightly structured

covered spaces; and open-air stairways leading up or down to storefronts.

At times, major façade changes are difficult to recognize because they are universal.

For instance, 17th-century canal houses in Amsterdam originally concealed sloped

tiled roofs behind the sorts of ornate sculpted cornices found throughout the Grand

Place in Brussels. However, 18th-century Amsterdammers routinely replaced the

elaborate old style façades: Simple classical cornices that were far cheaper to maintain

had come into vogue. That change was so widespread that it is scarcely recognizable.

0.21 Theme and variation in storefronts over

time, Amsterdam. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

24 INTRODUCTION

Code changes

It is important not to underestimate the transformative effects of building codes. For

example:

• Following the Great Fire of Rome (ad 64), the Emperor Nero insisted that fireproof

concrete arcades be added during reconstruction to aid subsequent firefighting at

upper stories.

• Much later, 16th and 17th century cities that had been devastated by fires – includ-

ing London, Paris and Amsterdam – would outlaw timber construction and require

fire-resistant building envelopes, fireproof party walls and raised fire separations

between roofs. This totally transformed building appearances: Soon, only a handful

of original half timber façades would survive in those cities.

• Subsequently, the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 gave rise to new building laws that

played a vital role in the development of the skyscraper and transformed urban

fabrics and building stock.

• At the turn of the 20th century, sweeping public health, safety and welfare legislation

such as New York’s Tenement House Act of 1901 and the Dutch Housing Law of

1901 and Amsterdam Building Code of 1905 began to tackle the deplorable living

conditions of the urban poor. Similar model codes that introduced standards for

ventilation, natural lighting, sanitation, room sizes and paths of egress were quickly

adopted throughout the world. In reforming urban housing, they would ultimately

transform the fundamental fabric of cities.

ROOM LEVEL

Change occurs far more often in building interiors than on building exteriors. Outmoded

equipment, systems and styles frequently trigger renovation. Constructing false ceil-

ings and walls to cover the existing surfaces is frequently easier, cheaper and less

disruptive than demolishing and replacing them. As a result, careful observation often

reveals series of intact surface layers built up over time. Sculpted plaster detailing,

intricate wooden trim, abandoned hearths, chimneys, doorways, etc. often lie hidden

behind broad expanses of flat featureless surface.

Other factors in room-level transformation include tenant turnover and changes in use.

New business renters bring their own systems, furnishings and branded style. New

residential owners rip out inherited kitchens and bathrooms to make their own mark,

often without regard to the existing interiors’ age or condition. In all cases, new fixtures,

finishes, appliances and cabinets better fit the new end-user’s taste, self-image, needs

and budget.

SPECIAL TOPICS 25

Transformation over time is almost universal in both thematic and non-thematic built

environment.

Monumental funerary architecture can be immaculately preserved. However, non-

thematic buildings that serve active uses must transform with the times. When construc-

tion lasts centuries, as was the case in erecting Gothic cathedrals, change occurred on

the fly throughout construction, embodying evolving styles, beliefs, lives, technologies,

politics and economics – or the preferences of successions of building crews.

Small-scale construction within the informal sector – built environment with little or

no professional intervention, regulation or supervision – is similarly protracted for very

different reasons. Urban squatter settlements in diverse settings offer unmatched

opportunities to observe gradual assumption of built form, often following similar

development patterns. Squatters first seize poorly defended territory and defend it

from being retaken while erecting makeshift shelter. Next, each household constructs

some form of gated perimeter to protect and visually substantiate their individual claim.

Squatter homes then begin to take shape room by room. Additional floors may gradu-

ally be incorporated. Eventually, overnight cities such as Guthrie, Oklahoma (claimed

1889), colonias populares such as Santa Úrsula, Mexico City (illegal subdivision

created 1953) or squatter settlements like the former Tetterode factory in Amsterdam

(occupied 1983) grow indistinguishable from the surrounding contextual fabric.

Informal sector building fuses design and construction into one integral process. Each

discrete move contributes directly to gradual and incremental growth and transfor-

mation. This echoes the spontaneous bottom-up process by which countless human

settlements throughout history have assumed form. It also serves as a reminder that

the separation of design and construction – and the intervention of professional

designers within a naturally ongoing process of everyday environmental evolution –

are recent phenomena.

The contemporary professional version of building over time is phased development.

Phasing often reflects project finance and market conditions. In long-term facilities

master planning, it lays the groundwork and establishes guidelines for subsequent

construction when projected user population triggers growth.

In sum, growth, obsolescence and changes in style, use and expectations, demograph-

ics, social values, technology, financial capacity or status may drive environmental

transformation over time. Regardless of why change occurs, it is constant.

0.22 Building over time. Basilica La Sagrada Familia,

Barcelona (1883–present). Antonio Gaudí, Architect.

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

The tradition of building over time carries on in

Gaudí’s Basilica: Construction began in 1883 and

remains ongoing.

Special Topic

Building over time

26 INTRODUCTION

Observing everyday Paris

The underlying large-scale structures, cycles, rhythms and ranges of life in everyday

built environments are framed by patterns and inhabited through acts of territorial

control. In-depth structured observation and comparison of built fabrics and forms

eventually reveals which relations hold constant, how they vary and their underlying

common formative principles.

Parisian life and social organization are framed by continuous rows of mixed-use and

mixed-class courtyard buildings with tall windows and balconies arrayed along streets.

The buildings may be imposing or modest, and vary in form, height, width, scale, mate-

rial and stylistic expression, articulation and/or era. Nonetheless, patient observation

gradually reveals common characteristics: Double height covered passages lead to

central courtyards. They are surrounded by three-to-six stories of habitable space that

accommodate diverse uses and social classes under one roof. The buildings typically

pair a tall ground floor with an entresol − a minimal height intermediary floor of “swing

space” directly above. The entresol can house an independent tenancy or attach to

space below, providing servant space, mezzanines, or, when removed entirely, double-

height ground floor interior space.

These common attributes are a vestigial legacy of Paris’s medieval courtyard town-

house or hôtel particulier. The type has evolved in multiple directions over the centu-

ries. Nonetheless, its characteristically dense population, restricted entry leading to

common space and views and its entresols continue to promote highly structured and

monitored social interaction and to sustain a ribbon of street-level neighborhood retail

of all varieties.

0.24 Parisian entresols. Copyrighted photo by N. John Habraken

The Parisian hôtel particulier

One predominant urban building type had lined the

streets of Paris since the middle ages. It featured a

characteristic tall gated first story surmounted by a

narrow entresol story. Closed double-height courtyard

entry doors typically led to a paved central courtyard

surrounded by multistory mixed-use housing rising

three to six stories. Throughout centuries of profound

political, social, cultural and technological change, that

model had continued to create the population density

needed to sustain the mixed use, commercial street

frontage and tight-knit social interaction synonymous

with Paris.

0.23 Ground floor plan of the Hôtel de Sully, Paris

(1725). Jean du Cerceau, Architect. The hôtel

particulier connects to the southwest corner

of the Place des Vosges diagonally through an

entry at the top right-hand corner of the garden.

Drawing by Andrés Mignucci based on

a lithograph by Jean-François Blondel.

OBSERVING LEVELS AND LAYERS OF TRANSFORMATION 27

0.25 Highlighting different interventions over time

The Kolumba, Cologne (2007). Peter Zumthor,

Architect. Photo © Andrés Mignucci

The Romanesque Church of St. Columba in Cologne was

destroyed in World War II and replaced in 1950 by a Gottfried

Böhm chapel named the “Madonna of the Ruins.” Zumthor’s

Kolumba is an art museum located on the former church site.

It is treated as a palimpsest in which traces of the different

interventions through time are prominently displayed.

On observation

Experiments deal with intervention into what is explored.

Observation leaves the world as we find it, and is the

beginning of all research. It is not just seeing: It is seeing

with detachment – the suspension of knowledge and cer-

tainty. It is curiosity, before the question is asked.

The answer is the end of observation and the beginning

of theory. The theory leads to understanding, and the

understanding makes us see the world as we could not

see it before. It allows us to see more which may lead

again to observation.

Observation leads to a record – a sketch, a photograph.

But the record is not an observation, but rather the begin-

ning of an answer.

John Habraken, Notes of a Traveller

28 INTRODUCTION

Copyrighted drawings by Thomas Chastain, Renée Chow

and Paul Hajian originally published in “Observations of

Turfan” by Thomas Chastain and Renée Chow, courtesy of

the authors

Dimensionally accurate sample drawings from a comprehensive documen-

tation of an oasis settlement

To enhance the habitability of built environment in extreme desert conditions, the

Uyghur, an Islamic people, have evolved strategies including interweaving trellises and

walls to mediate sunlight and channeling water in open courses through their low-walled

courtyards. The observational research focused on how the built environment supports

inhabitants’ specific use of space and inhabitation of public private and realms. The infor-

mation derived from series of measured plan and section drawings of the urban fabric

and its streets, watercourses and courtyards like those shown was supplemented with

quick perspective sketches and photographs.

0.26 Detail plan of individual courtyard 0.27 Section elevation of the courtyard

Sample Observation Drawings

Turfan oasis settlement, China

SAMPLE OBSERVATION DRAWINGS − TURFAN 29

Observational field drawings

The ability to observe and record existing built form analytically – to see both the regu-

larity of underlying structures, systems, dimensions and patterns and also what makes

each building unique – involves a number of critical visual cognition and design skills.

Together, they provide a foundation for fundamental activities such as site or prec-

edent study and recording existing conditions.

Observational field drawing of built form as a hands-on method of recording and

analyzing contextual fabric, precedent and form making by others accompanies the

plays throughout this book. Each design play incorporates structured observation.

Each set of observational sketches connects play and related skills to real buildings.

Hand sketches based on direct observation of existing built environment serve multiple

purposes: They may express the qualitative character of buildings and streetscapes

or the overall feeling of place. They may explore the surfaces and textures of forms

and their interplay with light or the interlock between the outline of forms and the

space surrounding them. In a professional context, initial drawings that accurately

depict basic dimensions, proportions and relationships between various parts create

a framework for subsequently recording existing conditions at a high level of clarity

and precision.

Observational sketching is a distinct analytical approach to drawing. In orthogonal

projections with visually accurate dimensions, proportions and angles, observational

sketches seek to document the systemic nature of form, how it:

• builds or extends patterns and systems of dimensions;

• exhibits internal bays and other ordering devices;

• builds-in accommodation for specific ranges of human activity through its careful

dimensioning; and

• builds continuity with surrounding forms, environmental fabric and landscape.

It is equally important to observe the places where form breaks or discontinues its

internal rules and repetitions, where it integrates changes in direction, unique dimen-

sions, geometries, elements, projections, skew angles, secondary systems, materials,

etc. And to pay careful attention to the ways in which such breaks are consistently

resolved throughout the built environment.

Architectural design relies on the designer’s ability to apply hands-on the lessons

acquired through direct observation of form. Architectural understanding of built envi-

ronment bridges visual cognition and formal, verbal and numerical thinking. In record-

ing observed structures in graphic form, observational sketches will therefore often

add occasional secondary notations and crucial dimensions in ways that add to the

expressive intent of the drawing.

30 INTRODUCTION

The challenge

Observe, record and present changes over time.

Choose media you prefer

Record your research and observations in photographs, drawings,

sketches, writing and/or video recordings.

Select what to observe

Focus your structured observation of change on the building level.

Where possible, observe a building that has been continuously occu-

pied over a long period of time — one that you like and know well.

Order your observations and findings by category:

• expansion or contraction of the overall volume

• façade changes

• changes to interior spaces

• transformation of individual building parts over time

Approach this exercise as a “form detective”

Seek evidence of change in places where building parts, walls and

materials come together. Venture beyond direct observation to find

out about prior conditions: Look at original drawings of the building,

if available. Interview long-time residents or building users: tenants,

employees, neighbors or, if your selection is a longstanding family

home, relatives. Such consultation provides a superior − and often

surprising − overview of change and how and why it occurs.

Note dimensions

When observing buildings to analyze their design, typological mean-

ing, use and history, it is essential to document their human dimen-

sion, capacities and ergonomics: little of which can be gleaned by

recording their visual appearance from a distance. Particularly as

spaces or configurations approach the limits of a size range for a

particular set of uses, small changes in dimension indicate signifi-

cant changes in potential use.

Look for hidden connections

Change in buildings often occurs in isolation. But individual

changes often occur as part of larger cascades of transformation.

Sometimes they are linked by opportunity. For instance: The best

time to upgrade foundation landscaping may be when the ground

has already been torn up around the foundations and a building

crew is mobilized on site.

At other times, upper level change necessitates lower level change:

When a new water trunk line is installed along the street, each

house excavates sidewalks and yards to connect to it. Similarly,

when a kitchen wall is demolished, utilities buried in the wall cavity

and cabinets mounted on the walls must be relocated. This often

triggers an entire kitchen remodel: a cascade of transformation.

Structured Observation

Looking for change

This initial series of observational sketches is about critically

observing and documenting what is already in place. It highlights

tools, strategies and techniques.

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 31

Order your findings in a timeline

Try to order observed changes according to a timeline. Pinpointing

precise dates is rarely important. The goal is to use sequential order-

ing to help reveal larger patterns and cycles of change and situate

them within a broader context of long-term urban transformation.

Make diagrammatic drawings

For an excellent example of how freehand diagrammatic drawings

help summarize or illustrate transformation, refer back to Kazunobu

Minami’s Merchant’s House in Himeji (Precedent Documentation 3).

Let the graphic presentation tell the story

Enhance your base drawings with site sketches, photographs,

descriptive notes and highlights of key features to clarify your find-

ings. Your final graphic presentation should be clear and explicit

and require no additional explanation. Verbal presentation can then

provide another level of insight.

Don’t go it alone

Observational sketches and graphic presentation may certainly be

created solo. But it is best to work in parallel and subsequently to

share and compare work.

What makes a place worth observing?

This structured observation is based on a building you like. It is

therefore reasonable to step back and ask: What’s good about it?

What fundamental principals of good design does it embody? What

observed principles, characteristics, moments, gestures and config-

urations are directly useful and relevant to your own work?

Do it again … and again

Unlike problems assigned in studio, the intent of the observational

sketches and design plays throughout this workbook is not to

come up with definitive solutions. It is rather to practice a different

approach to design, hone skills, begin to see form in a new light

and let this way of approaching design become second nature,

ingrained in your eye and hand.

We recommend performing each sketch observation or design

play at least three different times in succession.

32 INTRODUCTION

In the built environment, there is no such thing as a blank slate. In shaping form, we

bring to each new design a wealth of unique experiences, associations and mental

images. At the same time, we always start from an existing context. All sites have

particular topography, geology, solar orientation, wind direction and history. We

engage in a running conversation with that context, with the evolving form at hand

and with places we imagine or remember. Engaging in that internal dialogue guides

a designer’s process as he or she steers a unique and uncharted design sequence.

About the plays

The first design plays start with simple architectural configurations as base forms.

Later plays start with more complex bases: modules, kits of parts and systems. The

goal is to explore selected combinations of architectural themes and skills while

sequentially transforming the base. The emphasis is on exploration – both of the

unique language of form and of your own creative process. Each cycle of play, obser-

vation and honing of skills will further build your ability to direct and control form while

leaving it open-ended.

The plays cast into a playful format a way of making form that is based on step-wise

incremental change. Like studying a theatrical role or practicing for a concert, they

improve with iterative performance. Different players start at different levels of mastery

and possess different skill sets. Individual performances are therefore at times uneven,

exhibiting stronger formal mastery in some areas than others. Nonetheless, each

design performance, no matter how humble, is creative and unique; each echoes the

unique voice of its designer.

Conversations With Form

CONVERSATIONS WITH FORM 33

Design plays are also like board games: Each starts with a field of play, various playing

pieces, kinds of moves, rules that limit how things can go together and objectives. But

play is neither won nor lost. Players simply choose to creatively explore alternatives.

The classic studio project assignment begins with a complex problem statement that

applies a detailed building program to a specific site. The final product is a building design.

Critique focuses on the object, its technical and aesthetic qualities and presentation.

Design plays are not particularly concerned with end product. They focus instead on

strengthening the way designers work and mastering hands-on skills. There is never

a predetermined outcome or problem solution. The step-by-step sequence of moves

from beginning to end is the product to be judged. What matters most is method-

ological consistency, rhythm and harmony throughout the play. While cleverness is

universally appreciated, clarity of purpose and straightforward moves make for the

best plays. While the final move in the series hopefully embodies great design, the

emphasis is on the steps that lead there.

Above all, design plays embody learning-by-doing. The plays are not full-blown build-

ing designs, but short, focused skill-building performances to strengthen form making

skills, strategies and agility. They encourage a natural rhythmic flow of creative and

inventive design moves as architects shape form following their own aesthetic prefer-

ences. The plays involve a form of reflective practice (Schön) that builds connections

between the hand, eye and brain. They focus on the sorts of understanding of form that

can only be gained by manipulating form hands-on.

Surrendering control

As design students, we quickly learn to carefully orchestrate each final presentation

to persuade reviewers.

As a consequence, for many players, the very first design play is the hardest. They know

how to manipulate form. But they fear surrendering control: of the form; the final design

product; the final presentation; and the overall performance and how it is framed. A

related problem is learning to slow down, to listen to form and let it grow organically.

After a number of design play performances, the process becomes more relaxed.

Rather than struggling to envision a compelling form that will satisfy critics then struc-

turing the intervening steps to realize it, players learn to allow design to unfold step

by step. Each move explores the possibilities offered by the previous one. Players first

design a form then analyze it. They challenge the design as a sequence of moves. The

next step is to play several more times, shaping different alternatives and opportuni-

ties, energized by each prior iteration and by recognizing the powerful potential inher-

ent in each successive move.

34 INTRODUCTION

Players may have previously encountered theoretically or geometrically driven studio

problems. Nonetheless, many designers initially balk at the notion of generating form

when there is no program to shape design. The fact that for centuries buildings as

diverse as Versailles, Rembrandt’s house and virtually every other row house through-

out the world was created this way doesn’t seem to help.

Here is a hint: As designers we must continuously weigh the relationship of form to

use. The absence of a program does not change that. But building programs have

increasingly proved to be unreliable in the long term, because they are notoriously

short-lived: Uses and technologies constantly evolve. Clients, their needs and expec-

tations constantly change.

The best and most sustainable built environments therefore strike a balance between

short-lived tightly tailored buildings and characterless multi-purpose warehouses of

humanity: Space is irrepressibly “architectural” and impeccable in its detailing, char-

acter, proportions, materiality, dimensioning, lighting and sequence while nonetheless

accommodating a very broad and changing range of uses. There is dialogue between

form, designer and the various uses that they jointly make possible. And it is ongoing.

Another initial hurdle for some designers is the need to engage design in a very hands-

on physical way. Design play requires thinking in terms of the actual components,

systems, configurations and materials that architects bring together in design. In

general, while abstract form makes a statement, materialized form poses questions.

Visualizing physical materials, structures and assemblies, their weights and range of

textures and finishes highlights crucial architectural questions: What is the best way

to span column-free space? What glazing system furthers your environmental design

goals in harmony with the given structure? What canopy detailing will offer a combina-

tion of a sense of secure shelter, protection against the sun and the elements and filtered

light to visitors who transition in and out of the entry? Deeply considered, convinc-

ing and interesting conversation with form and its details leads to deeply considered,

convincing and interesting moves.

A parting observation: Performing and/or critiquing design play in a group intensi-

fies and expands upon what each individual learns when manipulating form solo.

Throughout the plays, you will therefore find direct and indirect references to shared

constraints as well as recurring mention of interactions among designers. But there

is a greater underlying intent: Above all, design plays reflect the understanding that

to design everyday environment well, we must structure design for change. Although

this book is primarily concerned with advancing the core skills and understanding that

prepare the individual designer for collaborative design, the plays have been designed

with the understanding that structured transformation in the built environment serves

as the engine that both compels designers to design together and also structures

interactions between them.

SPECIAL TOPICS 35

Foundational Moves set the stage for subsequent design.

They embody overall intent through section, plan and/or ideo-

gram in diagrammatic form. In foundational moves, a designer

begins to envision form in response to known demands and

constraints, creating the framework within which that vision will

ultimately take place.

Systemic Moves establish a guiding approach to steer subse-

quent form development. Such moves may involve the use of any

number of ordering principles: building types, patterns, geometrical

principles, dimensioning systems, zones, grids, proportional prefer-

ences, relational rules, etc. Whatever means they use, systemic

moves are always about applied form making and orderly place-

ment of parts.

Spatial Moves enhance the three-dimensional quality of enclo-

sure and are critical in defining spatial hierarchy. Manipulating the

overall building footprint, its ground form and floor plates, or adding

or adjusting plan, wall or ceiling elements are the most common

spatial moves.

Territorial Moves establish potential public/private dividing lines

and territorial zones through careful placement of formal elements.

They are often closely related to spatial moves.

Articulating Moves further define and detail architecture without

significantly altering overall territorial, spatial or tectonic qualities.

For example, adjusting fenestration, perforating planar surfaces,

detailing railings, adding decorative elements and minor adjust-

ments in shape or dimension may be considered articulating moves.

In seizing upon unanticipated opportunities, Reset Moves defy

previously established systemic principles and reverse prior deci-

sions in ways that substantially alter overall building shape, volume

and/or organization. Such moves in turn require modification of sys-

temic principles and introduction of new physical elements, spaces

and/or spatial relationships. They are potential game-changers and

may trigger a fundamental redefinition of the design problem.

Special Topic

Categories of hands-on

design moves

Architects rarely design alone. Real world form making requires

structured interaction and cooperation. As architects from vast-

ly different backgrounds come together to collectively design,

they often struggle to clarify one another’s design objectives,

find common ground and establish a framework or common lan-

guage to discuss moves.

In the absence of any generally accepted vocabulary regarding

the many specific families of moves commonly observed, here

are some useful distinctions:

36 INTRODUCTION

Sample Play 0.1

A transformation sequence

M1 A Structural Move setting up the basic form and system. M2 Territorial Moves establish use zones.

BASE FORM

SAMPLE PLAY 0.1 − A TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE 37

M5 Roof slabs create partial cover.

M3 An Expansion Move widens the end of the extruded form.

M6 An Articulating Move places trellises to complete the roof system.

M4 An additional Expansion Move makes another bay.

Sequential Transformation Inside Two Parallel Walls

Thematic design workshop drawings © 2010 Alexander

Cuesta, courtesy of the designer

38 INTRODUCTION

This sample performance illustrates a designer moving step-by-step to build a trans-

formation sequence – a basic design technique used throughout the book. As in a

board game, the term move indicates one discrete step within a sequence of steps.

The concept of individual moves charged with design intent is helpful in breaking

down, organizing and subsequently discussing design strategies. Above all, it sets

up a designer to think a few steps ahead, always considering alternatives. Each well-

modulated move corresponds to a unit of change.

Play starts with a simple base form. Nothing beyond that initial form is determined.

Moves, playing pieces and the playing field are less predetermined, less limited and

less clearly defined at the start of design than they are at the start of a board game. But

players in both cases similarly add, remove or displace physical parts in the field of play.

Each move similarly adds constraints and/or opportunities that shape subsequent play.

At every point along the sequence of moves in this play, alternative directions emerge.

The process of generating and evaluating alternate moves involves a number of critical

abilities. It simultaneously expands the player’s fundamental design vocabulary and

personal toolkit of moves.

Reviewing design play performance has little in common with formal presentation

critique. There is no final building to judge and the surrounding conversation has

nothing to do with selling or defending a design product. Instead, the specific design

process and formal moves themselves constitute the subject: How do spatial moves

shift material to define or transform volumes? How do articulating moves flesh out

underlying form? The goal is to learn to self-assess such moves individually and quali-

tatively, to weigh and challenge the design process as it translates into a sequence of

thoughtful, methodical steps through which the designer develops form.

For example, in analyzing Sample Play 0.1, consider the following:

• Can you identify any single moves that should be split into two, because the leaps of

design seem too large or too complex?

• Are any too similar or too limited?

• Might some steps have occurred earlier or later?

• Is the sequence too long? Should it have stopped earlier?

• Is the design intent resolved? Are additional moves needed?

• In categorizing individual moves, do any strike you as overly brash or timid?

• Or do you consider any particular moves to be brilliant, strange, dull or graceful?

On the whole, this sequential transformation strikes us as successful. The moves

clearly document the step-wise process through which intent assumes form. Each

move is partial, yet coherent. Each move also increases the overall clarity of the design

intent. Ongoing conversation with evolving form builds in a steady rhythm toward a rich

and coherent outcome.

Focusing on hands-on form making

Just as studio problems replicate in simplified form real

world client building briefs and sites, studio juries simu-

late professional presentations: The designer’s job is to

combine graphic and spoken presentation skills to reach

out to, persuade and satisfy groups of critics and clients

or their proxies. Reviewers then comment on the overall

product and its presentation.

Presentations tend to focus on the final product and

design theory. They rarely focus on the sequential hands-

on making of form and the design operations it involves:

positioning, displacing, extending, shortening, enlarging,

duplicating and arraying elements, etc. Defining parts

together with the design rules that specify how and

where they can be placed is an equally critical aspect of

applied design.

SAMPLE PLAY 0.1 − A TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE 39

It is also easy to imagine entirely different steps and directions at any point in the

sequence. A second designer could easily take over half way into the transformation

sequence at any point, build upon the coherent steps and clear design logic and move

forward in a similar fashion yet reach a different conclusion. Or else that designer might

steer the play toward a radically different — and no less acceptable — design outcome.

Roughly speaking, it’s a good analogy for the transfer of design control that occurs

throughout the built environment: As buildings continuously evolve, new designers

step in to transform buildings, tenant spaces and rooms, working within parameters

and structures set up by the original architect.

40 INTRODUCTION

Conversation is open-ended reciprocal exchange. Back and forth discussion clarifies

thinking and leads it in unanticipated and serendipitous directions. By contrast, steer-

ing dialogue unilaterally in order to achieve targeted outcomes rarely succeeds as a

conversational strategy.

The same holds true in conversation with form. Learning to slow down, pause, “listen”

and reflect − to converse with form prior to leaping irreversibly forward − increases

design competence and confidence. Form “speaks” to the receptive designer. When

form evolves freely and incrementally without preconceived or predetermined direc-

tions, alternatives or outcomes, it reveals unanticipated perspectives, directions to

explore and capacities to develop.

The purpose of freeing design from detailed functional programs, site analyses,

presentation guidelines and similar constraints is not to focus on form for form’s sake.

It is to approach form making with an open mind, to focus on honing hands-on skills

and tools that become essential in intervening purposefully in the built environment.

The plays are structured to help you gain design insight into: how you interact with

form; how open-ended hands-on conversation with form changes design; and how

to recognize the vast possibilities contained in each simple incremental design move.

The goal is to master specific skills and techniques through dialogic exploration of

form and its component parts, systems and systemic properties, themes and varia-

tions. The method is based on creating form hands-on repeatedly, in various ways, one

play at a time.

Design play provides an opportunity to dive in and take chances, play with form, build

experimentally and explore how form works and how it interacts with component parts

and systems. After years of molding design to fit highly directed problem statements

and solutions, designing without those constraints can require an initial leap of faith. It

takes − and subsequently further builds − confidence.

The existing conditions that architects address rarely threaten or pose substantive

hurdles to everyday life. Rather, defining them as “problems” allows us to frame our

own design intervention as somehow providing “solutions.” In design play, the empha-

sis is not on inventing formally, programmatically and intellectually elegant solutions to

problems. Instead, there is an open invitation to join in the performance of an ongoing

immersive symphony of form.

The Art of Conversing with Form

SEQUENCE OF PLAY 41

Each chapter of the book develops around a single design play, often in several parts.

Each play or segment begins by introducing the purpose of the performance and

the base form, module, kit of parts or system that serves as a starting point, together

with the playing rules and brief background discussion of related fundamental topics.

In-depth considerations then follow: design strategies and what to bear in mind. Subse-

quently, the text offers sample plays, special topics and thematic and non-thematic

examples drawn from the built environment. It is left to each individual player to decide

at what point to stop reading and dive into a first round of play. Each chapter concludes

with structured observation of the built environment. The titles and fundamental topics

mentioned in each chapter are referenced in an Additional Background section at the

back of the book.

Chapters 1 and 2 concentrate on the articulation of form while introducing design play,

its methodological framework and working vocabulary together with basic concepts.

Play 1 focuses on forms of transition: the configurations that shape material thresholds

and spatial zones in which transitions between opposing conditions — inside/outside,

light/dark, public/private and up/down — occur. Play 2 concentrates on adding smaller

scale elements to articulate, break down and transform large unitary building volumes

and compose building façades.

Chapters 3 and 4 focus on skills related to mastering the initial conceptual stage of

design, when partial information must be synthesized to contribute to a fuller under-

standing of complex form. Plays 3 and 4 specifically focus on section as a primary tool

in shaping form and light. The design of natural lighting employs cross-sections and

longitudinal sections in somewhat complementary ways. In Play 3, daylight becomes a

driving force in longitudinal section. Play 4 uses a progression of transverse sections

to structure three-dimensional design, while testing and strengthening the designer’s

ability to visualize three-dimensional form in the mind’s eye.

Play 5 is a stand-alone divertimento performance. It draws upon and consolidates skills

honed during previous plays. It emphasizes: “thinking form” while visualizing in the

mind’s eye, drawing and model-making; applying hands-on knowledge-based intuition

while making form; and designing with resilience under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Chapters 6 and 7 introduce advanced concepts related to the systemic nature of the

built environment. Play 6 is about working with various systems that define an architec-

ture … including styles. Play 7 combines architectural systems to create larger, more

complex form. Families of form, ordering systems, design in theme and variation and

the juxtaposition of different architectural systems to structure space and form are

central themes of the final two plays.

Sequence of Play

42

1.1 Zones of Transition. Casa Planells, Barcelona (1924).

Josep María Jujol, Architect. Copyrighted photo by Mutari,

reproduced under Creative Commons license.

43

Start with a small rectangular opening in an exterior wall. Elaborate the transition

between inside and outside in a step-wise sequence of moves.

Think in terms of discrete design moves.

Steer

a sequence

of moves toward

a more elaborate

and mature whole.

Discover

what the form wants to do.

Making a form of transition

touches upon the essence

of architecture

and of territory.

It is therefore

a good place to begin.

1 Zones of Transition

44 ZONES OF TRANSITION

No two stoops in Amsterdam or porches in San Juan are exactly alike. They are

variations on a common theme: unique, yet closely related. The common qualities

shared by types of buildings and elements in historic neighborhoods allow them

to collectively shape our image and memory of place.

1.2 Entry stoops in Amsterdam

Copyrighted photo by N. John Habraken

1.3 Balconies in the Calle del Cristo, San Juan,

Puerto Rico. Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

INTRODUCTION 45

Introduction

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Play 1 presents a simple punched opening in a façade wall. Your goal is to articulate

and extend the form beyond the wall plane; and throughout that design process to

explore four fundamental kinds of transition that tend to occur together: light/dark,

up/down, inside/outside and public/private.

Physical transitions between light/dark and up/down, although rich in association

and architectural opportunity, are fairly straightforward. Spatial transitions between

inside and outside will often create architectural space that ambiguously straddles

both states.

Transitions that mediate between public and private space are by far the most complex.

They carry strong social and territorial implications. Whether space is public or private

is always relative. It depends upon implicit cultural assumptions; how territorial control

is physically asserted; and relationships between individuals, between spaces and/or

between observer and observed.

Transitions in design drawings are often indicated as razor-sharp boundary lines and

planes. In actual built environments, they are far more likely to occur within three-

dimensional zones of transition. As they extend out beyond the wall plane of the build-

ing façade, such zones are expressed in highly articulated and intensified forms of

transition. Such physical and spatial configurations and sequences and their accom-

panying zones are fundamental and universal throughout the built environment. The

history of human settlement is filled with familiar examples: doorways, balconies,

stoops, porches, porticos and recesses are as old as architecture.

Each can be understood as a step-wise series of transformations and elaborations

that first began with a simple wall penetration.

Historically, forms of transition have conveyed a great deal of meaning. In embody-

ing a specific culture, they also convey a particular worldview and set of values. They

guide human activities and movement and shape relationships between spaces and

those who inhabit them. When they lead from an enclosed interior to a more public

exterior space, their architecture is particularly rich in associations and further overlaid

with signs that indicate a gradient of territorial control. Such entryways tend to be

intensively designed because of their comparative impact: While they are relatively

compact and therefore relatively easy and cost-effective to elaborate, they shape the

experience of all who arrive or depart.

46 ZONES OF TRANSITION

Play 1

Zones of Transition

or

Hole in the Wall

~'1;0

.\)

;\'\~a

~Q0

.\'1

,'11

~Q0

4'(

1.2

0m) 8'

(2.4

0m)

12'(

3.60

m)

~Q0

~Q0 ~Q0~Q0

~Q0

~Q0

PLAY 1 − HOLE IN THE WALL 47

RULES OF PLAY

Base form

A base form is the given form from which play begins. The wall and opening in the

dimensioned diagram provide the base form for Play 1.

Site

Play 1 provides no information about exterior conditions. You are free to add stairs or

ramps and create level changes.

Material

The initial wall is built of concrete and/or masonry. Other materials may be added in

subsequent moves.

Goal of play

Starting with the base form provided, articulate an architectural zone of transition for

an entryway. Arrive at a stopping point via a coherent and well-regulated series of

discrete design moves. Your transformation sequence should create a design narra-

tive whose internal logic is easily followed.

5−10 moves

Presenting fewer than 5 moves will rarely establish a coherent narrative with depth.

Presenting more than 10 moves tends to lead to repetitive or trivial moves and to dilute

the step-by-step analysis of form-making strategies.

Final presentation

Present a graphically coherent and easy-to-read sequence of moves. After briefly

noting what each specific move does and/or your design intent, freely insert additional

text, arrows or other indications to clarify your design process.

The play’s the thing

Keep the quick sketches, notes and/or diagrams that you generate while playing. They

provide essential documentation of your design process.

Evaluation

Thoroughly assess each move throughout the design performance and how moves

build sequentially. Avoid the temptation to focus disproportionately on the final form.

Don’t go it alone

Share your work: Trigger dialogue, take in invaluable feedback and let your work stimu-

late other designers in turn.

1.4 Front yard zone, El Vedado, Havana, Cuba

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

48 ZONES OF TRANSITION

STRATEGIES

Sketch and explore

Sketch possible alternative directions prior to making each move. After deciding upon

a move, pause again to consider where it may lead and what options for subsequent

move(s) it opens up. At the same time, keep the design loose and exploratory. Balance

careful investigation with flowing design performance. It is more productive to cycle

through two or three alternate passes of the same play quickly than to agonize over

each move.

Backtrack when necessary

Do not hesitate to backtrack and redirect design at any point.

Avoid dead ends

Always pose alternatives. If you reach a point where you can think of only one way to

proceed, you have boxed yourself into a formal or mental corner. Retrace your steps

and carefully consider how and why you ended up there. Be specific: What move(s) or

ingrained design habit(s) led you to a dead end?

Learn from mistakes

Don’t labor over each move prior to committing to it. Take chances: You can always

discard what you don’t like and carry on. You will learn far more by experimenting and

failing than by making only safe and thoroughly pre-tested moves.

In-Depth ConsiderationsGod is in the details.

— anonymous

(frequently attributed to Gustave Flaubert

or Ludwig Mies Van der Rohe)

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 49

Avoid compulsive control of form

There is nothing wrong with engaging in some experimental trial and error as you play.

Articulate oppositions

As you move through each iteration, focus on giving nuanced form to the universal

oppositions that characterize forms of transition.

Move freely, but judge critically

Step back and analyze the contribution of each move in the sequence as you play.

Succeeding within a limited number of moves requires triage: Weed out trivial moves.

While each move should be significant, it is also important to avoid cramming into a

single step what should take place over the course of two or three.

Freely extend the zone of transition

The zone of transition can reach inside and/or outside the wall. Shape the associated

ground plane, allowing it to rise or fall throughout that zone.

Limit design time

As players first begin, each performance often requires a surprising amount of time.

Try to limit each move to 20 minutes. Subsequently, as your familiarity, playing skill

and confidence increase, set a time limit for the entire sequence: As in speed chess,

adding time pressure sharpens intuition, allowing you to design forward thoughtfully,

but without bogging down in alternatives.

Test how well your design responds to a range of human and functional needs

Test the uses your design makes possible through detailed vignettes and scenarios.

Strategize media and scale selection

Plan, section and axonometric drawings can be sketched freehand, hand drafted,

drawn digitally in 2D or modeled digitally in 3D. Compare the limitations and advan-

tages prior to deciding on a representational medium. Some are faster, easier or more

expressive. Others promote spatial and/or kinesthetic design thinking or hands-on

accuracy. Work at an adequate scale: We recommend ¼" = 1' 0" / 1:50 for this play.

Strategize representation

Present your play in plan, section and/or axonometric projection. Maintain a constant

point of view. Develop a consistent graphic approach that clearly highlights sequential.

Step back and verify that the sequence of moves is easily read by others.

Learning from failure

Taking risks in design can undoubtedly lead to missteps.

When failure occurs, it should not be shrugged off as

a humiliating − albeit necessary − evil: Used properly,

failure constitutes an essential part of learning and a

wellspring of discovery and innovation.

The poet John Keats used the term negative capability

to refer to the human capacity to summon inner resilience

in moments of adversity and bravely move forward in the

presence of mystery, uncertainty and doubt.

Mistakes draw out your ability to improvise creatively

and steer design thinking forward in unforeseen and

inventive directions.

50 ZONES OF TRANSITION

BEAR IN MIND

Think process, not product

Design plays emphasize consistent and coherent design logic and formal develop-

ment throughout the design process. Each move in a well-modulated transformation

sequence is as essential to achieving good form as the final move.

Trust the form

Avoid structuring the design process to shunt form in any preconceived direction.

Remove barriers to open-ended design and doubts: Open-ended conversation with

form will then instruct and surprise you.

Each move guides the next one

The outcomes of plays are open-ended. A leap of faith is sometimes required along the

way. But success is certainly not a roll of the dice: Base forms and other initial condi-

tions rarely predetermine the path, character or outcome of design: At each step, you

shape the design direction.

Pace yourself

Set and maintain a steady, sustainable and enjoyable rhythm of play throughout your

design performance.

Don’t force it

Nothing is more serious than play. While design play demands full and continual

concentration, try to perform with unlabored deliberation. The moment conversation

with the form ends and the design outcome becomes forced, you have ceased to play.

Firmitas • commoditas • venustas

Prior to the rise of functional programming of build-

ing space, people inhabited built environment by feel.

Homeowners, factory owners and apartment renters all

combined personal and cultural preferences with a highly

evolved natural ability to assess space and figure out how

best to exploit its features for their purposes.

Within familiar building types, the specific use for any

given space was rarely pre-designated. As remains the

case when leasing shopping mall, office or medical suite

space, interiors were often turned over partially finished:

Each successive tenant completed the design and/or

customized space as desired. They would customarily

settle in, partition and furnish space and arrange each

area for optimal use.

That ability to satisfy the needs of inhabitation and use

has often been described in terms related to commodity,

based on Sir Henry Wotton’s rather free rendering of Vit-

ruvius’s famous phrase: firmness, commodity and delight.

Yet with the rise of functionalism, the meaning of com-

modity changed. Instead of capacity to accommodate a

wide range of uses, it became synonymous with mold-

ing form tightly, in essence shrink-wrapping highly spe-

cific programmatic functions. Nor was this approach

reserved for specialized buildings. Even in the design of

everyday buildings created to accommodate mundane

ranges of use, typological design with built-in capacity

to accommodate a broad range of use steadily gave way

to custom design based on highly detailed and quanti-

fied short-term specifications and programs (building

briefs).

Nonetheless, the ancient art of beneficially and sustain-

ably shaping programmatically indeterminate form and

space with broad capacity of use remains particularly

valid wherever tenants, uses and forms will continue

to change. To determine the additional built-in capac-

ity necessary to accommodate varying uses and long-

term patterns of growth and change, designers must

envision and assess the range of uses that a given form

might accommodate at each stage of development.

That broad awareness of capacity and change through

time, when coupled with concentrated investment in a

building’s durable parts, adds richness and extends its

useful life.

SAMPLE PLAY 1.1 − EXTERIOR DOOR OPENING 51

This design articulates form with small elements and details. There are no grand or

expansive gestures. The building material is unspecified; however, the language of

the form indicates brick, stone or perhaps reinforced concrete. The structural lintel

introduced in the last move could be reinforced precast concrete or steel.

Any form will work better in some contexts than in others. All form implies functional

and territorial meaning. At the same time, those characteristics are always open to

interpretation. In reading this design sequence, it seems unlikely that the limit of the

form indicates a territorial boundary: If the space outside the initial wall were either a

public street or sidewalk, building out into public realm — even at this modest scale —

would probably not be permitted. The potential existence of a collective space like

a courtyard or communal garden outside the wall would further justify the working

assumption that the entry steps extend into a modest front yard.

Sample Play 1.1

Exterior door opening

transformation sequence

M1 M2

M3

M6

M4

M7

M5

M8

M0

52 ZONES OF TRANSITION

This example starts with the base form used in Play 1. The transformation sequence is

spatially rich, yet simple. The designer envisions the front yard as a zone that extends from

the end wall of a building − perhaps it is a house − to the property line at the sidewalk. Within

that zone, transitional space is layered. Each subsequent move further defines that series

of layers: The first moves − M1 and M2 − stay within the zone of the wall. In M3, a new

perpendicular wall sets up the territory of a patio. This is subsequently articulated by a pair of

columns in M4, a concrete overhang in M5 and a set of steps in M7.

Sample Play 1.2

Front yard territory

transformation sequence

BASE FORM: A hole in a wall

M1 The wall is cut out at the side of the

opening to form a doorway with a

sidelight.

M2 The top corner of the wall is notched.

M3 A new wall is extended perpendicular to

the first, creating a front yard boundary.

M4 Two round columns are added at the edge

of the yard.

M5 A concrete slab placed on top of the

columns adds spatial definition to the

territory.

M6 A low wall adds further definition to the

yard, creating an entry courtyard.

M7 Steps are added, creating a level change

from the sidewalk.

M8 A vestibule is added, creating an additional

zone of transition towards the interior.

1.5 Front yard zone. Commonwealth Avenue, Boston.

Copyrighted photo by N. John Habraken

SAMPLE PLAY 1.2 − FRONT YARD TERRITORY 53

M1 M2

M3

M6

M4

M7

M5

M8

BASE FORM

54 ZONES OF TRANSITION

In every architectural commission, the architect acts as a proxy for an owner, exercising

that owner’s legal right to transform a given place. While the resulting built form may

imply or assert territorial boundaries, territorial control always remains open to challenge.

When territorial lines between neighbors are crossed, conflicts may erupt over fences,

walls, tree overhangs and roots, unmarked lawn boundaries, store frontage, parking

frontage, imaginary boundaries that separate adjacent work areas and even armrest

space between adjacent seats. Designers get into trouble by oversimplifying the nature

of human territory and overreaching in the mistaken assumption that they can perma-

nently assign it: When territorial control is successfully challenged, boundaries can and

do shift.

Territory is a hands-on affair, deeply affected by personal relationships and culture. It is

claimed by continuous acts of physical inhabitation and enforced by territorial control.

People in their everyday lives constantly rely on their acute intuitive ability to observe

and interpret signs and assess territorial control based on a number of factors: Who

claims space? Is the claim legitimate? Is it defensible? Who controls access to the

space? When? And how completely?

Public space vs. private space

Boundaries between public and private are even more complex. In addition to being

changeable and subject to reinterpretation and reshaping by legislation and/or taking,

they are also relative. Designers label space public or private − as if it were a simple

either/or binary opposition − absolute, clear-cut, predetermined and unchanging.

However, careful long-term observation of the many forms of public/private transition

demonstrates that the underlying relationships, patterns and gradations of territorial

control are relative rather than absolute. They transcend simplistic demarcation. Space

that one cannot enter is private. However, viewed from within, space will appear to be

comparatively more or less public. It depends upon whether one can restrict others

from entering:

Special Topic

Territory

SPECIAL TOPICS 55

Imagine tenants who share an apartment in a wing of a restricted entry apartment

building. It is situated on a lane within a gated community: As one roommate steps out

of her private bedroom, she encounters a stranger in the living room, someone admit-

ted by her housemate. We recognize at once that she has entered the collective or

“public” space of the shared dwelling because she no longer exclusively controls who

may enter. Nonetheless, from the perspective of outsiders, the living room is every bit

as private as her bedroom.

Subsequently, she passes into the corridor, then into the lobby. At each transition, she

encounters others with equal rights to inhabit that particular limited-access space. Yet

she is clearly passing into progressively more public spaces. Nonetheless, to pass-

ersby on the lane, all parts of the building remain equally private and off-limits. Finally,

she exits the building and enters the “public” grounds of the enclave. That territory is

simultaneously private to everyone denied entry beyond the gatehouse.

Marking and interpreting territory

Architectural design often deliberately exploits the ambiguous overlap of form and

territory. It sometimes extends the zone of transition to highlight the experience of

transition. In other cases, such as when individually owned buildings are arrayed

across an unbroken expanse of lawn, territorial transition is visually negated.

Public/private boundaries and transitions are otherwise often marked by durable

stone, metal or wooden posts, walls, fences, gates and doors. Territorial claims may

otherwise be softer or less permanent: a potted plant on a table or an umbrella stand

set in a corridor beside an apartment entry; café tables set out onto the sidewalk each

morning; a tarpaulin set above a vendor’s booth at a weekly market; or even a combina-

tion of beach umbrella and towels set out on the sand.

Territorial interpretation also varies from culture to culture. In North America, an open

office door is an open invitation to barge in; in other settings, poking one’s head unan-

nounced into private space through an office door left ajar represents territorial trans-

gression. Building configurations − porches, level changes or overhanging elements

such as awnings, eaves and balconies − may carry no intrinsic territorial meaning yet

be misinterpreted as zones of transition from public to private.

56 ZONES OF TRANSITION

This sequence explores the transformation of a hole-in-the-wall at an upper floor. In fact, we

observe two narratives: One moves inward from the wall plane; the other moves incremen-

tally outward. In claiming both interior and exterior space, this play broadens the relationship

between them and expands the zone of transition in both directions. Relative to the exterior

plane of the façade, this transformation sequence moves from M1 − where the zone claims

part of the interior space − to M6, in which it claims part of the exterior space.

Because the transformation sequence is depicted in cross-section only, a great deal remains

unknown. For instance: Without the missing dimension, our ability to read spatial qualities or

territory in the form remains quite limited. Each move might simply represent one in an array

of moves that repeat throughout the three-dimensional form.

Nonetheless, the series as a whole offers a different sort of completeness and consistency:

While each move represents a fairly broad step, the progression of forms is logical, intuitive

and depicted with a consistently high degree of specificity. The detailing portrays exactly

how banisters, balcony cantilevers and awnings are shaped. Their elements and vocabulary

clearly belong to a specific “family” that is defined by a combination of particular forms and

styles. Together, they comprise a kit of parts or library of elements with which one might

systematically design any number of alternative façades in theme and variation.

Sample Play 1.3

Claiming territory at the façade plane

The façade plane is indicated in yellow fill.

M -1 An indentation in the façade plane

creates a loggia: The outside claims the

inside.

M0 The starting façade plane

M1 A narrow extension (the dimension of the

wall material) known as an antepecho

M2 A balcony

M3 The balcony is covered.

M4 A post is added to support the roof.

M5 The balcony is glazed to create a bay

window.

M6 The bay is walled-in to form part of the

interior: The inside claims the outside.

M -1 M0 M1 M2 M3 M4 M5 M6

SAMPLE PLAY 1.3 − CLAIMING TERRITORY AT THE FAÇADE PLANE 57

1.6 Claiming territory at the façade plane. Plaza de la

Leña, Pontevedra, Spain. Photo © 1982 Maurice K.

Smith, courtesy of the photographer

Note the building with an arcade on the ground level, fenestration elements

flush with the plane of the façade in the middle zone and a bay window

extending out beyond the façade in the top zone. The range of form-making

strategies presented by such groupings of buildings can be recorded in a

transformation sequence, using the façade plane as a reference datum.

58 ZONES OF TRANSITION

Sample Play 1.4

Vernacular building as

design precedent

1.7−1.10 Typological variations on one particular theme −raised and

covered entry porches in Ponce, Puerto Rico. Copyrighted photos

by Andrés Mignucci

SAMPLE PLAY 1.4 − VERNACULAR BUILDING AS DESIGN PRECEDENT 59

1.12 Street sections through balconies. Ponce Documentation Project.

Directed by Jorge Rigau. Drawings © 1984 Colegio de Arquitectos y

Arquitectos Paisajistas de Puerto Rico, reprinted courtesy of CAAPPR

1.11 Street elevation. Ponce Documentation Project. Directed by Jorge Rigau.

Drawings © 1984 Colegio de Arquitectos y Arquitectos Paisajistas de Puerto

Rico, reprinted courtesy of CAAPPR

60 ZONES OF TRANSITION

Design play offers an open-ended alternative to designing toward a predetermined form. This

particular transformation sequence, however, deliberately aims to create a thematic variant

of a particular vernacular form. Such porch entryway configurations are common throughout

the historic center of the town of Ponce, Puerto Rico and more generally throughout the

Caribbean. The play focuses on the composition of parts, the spatial structure of the zone

of transition and the four key accompanying transitions: inside/outside, light/dark, public/

private and up/down.

The design grows through step-wise addition of posts, railings, exterior roofs and level

changes immediately beyond the wall. Together, the moves build a layered sequence of

transitions that jointly mediate between inside and outside. The roof protects the balcony

while simultaneously creating a transition from light to dark: from sunlit sidewalk to shaded

entry porch to the far darker interior.

The level change between the porch and the sidewalk illustrates one characteristic move of

transitions from public to private: The combination of turning and rising establishes a more

private upper level.

BASE FORM: A hole in a wall

M1 The wall is cut below the opening to form

a doorway.

M2 Additional door openings are added on

either side.

M3 A step-up is created at the threshold

between the exterior platform and the

building interior.

M4 A set of steps is added, indicating that

the platform and ground floor are above

grade.

M5 A low wall establishes the edge of the

platform and steps.

M6 A railing transforms the platform into an

open terrace or porch.

M7 Four posts are added to the railing in

anticipation of a roof.

M8 A metal roof covers the porch.

M9 A parapet extends above the roof and a

sidewalk is added outside the porch.

Sample Play 1.4

Vernacular building as

design precedent

BASE FORM

1.13 Continuity and variation in the zone of

transition between public and private

Ponce, Puerto Rico. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

SAMPLE PLAY 1.4 − VERNACULAR BUILDING AS DESIGN PRECEDENT 61

M1 M2 M3

M4

M7

M5

M8

M6

M9

62 ZONES OF TRANSITION

Special Topic

Claiming exterior space inside

the exterior wall

1.14 Trinity Church Rectory. Boston (1879)

H. H. Richardson, Architect. Photo ca. 1885 courtesy

of Trustees of the Boston Public Library

Entryway zones of transition need not occur outside the building. In dense urban envi-

ronments where the façade coincides with the property line, transitions often occur

behind the plane of the façade. This occurs, for example, in H. H. Richardson’s Trinity

Church Rectory. The archway that defines the entry and serves as a zone of transition

contains steps that negotiate the level change between the sidewalk and building

interior. In such instances, while the zone of transition may be well defined, the territory

of the expanded threshold straddles public and private space ambiguously.

SPECIAL TOPICS 63

Havana and Bologna both feature streets lined with buildings whose carved façades

form continuous urban networks of covered public space. Nonetheless, the urban

fabric and character of their respective arcade spaces differ significantly.

Bologna’s portici are fine-grained. As row houses were added on by new owners, the

portici built up over time as an accretion of individual acts. Consequently, columns,

arches and courtyard entries vary thematically from building to building as they carve a

public right of way through what is clearly a string of individual territories.

By contrast, Havana’s two-story arcades were created in block-long interventions at an

institutional scale with uniform and repetitive detailing. Small-scale individual changes

have gradually customized the façade at ground level. Nonetheless, while walking

through a Bolognese arcade often feels like passing through a series of private places,

the fundamentally institutional and public character of Havana’s arcades is reinforced

by the scale and underlying uniformity of the structure.

1.16 Arcade. Bologna. Copyrighted photo by

N. John Habraken

1.15 Arcade. Havana, Cuba. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

64 ZONES OF TRANSITION

1.17 Exterior. Copyrighted photo by Francesc Català-

Roca, courtesy of Arxiu Coderch

1.18 Double-walled balconies. Copyrighted photo by

Francesc Catalá-Roca, courtesy of Arxiu Coderch

Casa de la Marina − La Barceloneta, Barcelona (1955)

In José Antonio Coderch’s apartment building, screened balconies recede from the

façade plane to create spaces that mediate between inside and outside. The screen is

composed of floor-to-ceiling jalousie windows that mitigate the harsh direct sunlight,

allow for ventilation and lend visual privacy to the interior. This design strategy allows

the building envelope to read as a unified whole while the balcony functions as both

interior and exterior space.

1.19 Floor plan. Copyrighted drawing courtesy of Arxiu Coderch

SPECIAL TOPICS 65

Kanchanjunga Apartments, Mumbai (1983). Charles Correa, Architect

Charles Correa’s Kanchanjunga Apartments in Mumbai display literal carving into the

building form. Alternating double-story spaces are cut away at the corners to create

terraces that overlook the Arabian Sea and Mumbai Harbor. This offers the high-rise

residents substantial exterior living space.

1.21 Terrace. Copyrighted photo courtesy of the architect

1.20 Exterior. Copyrighted photo courtesy of the architect

66 ZONES OF TRANSITION

1.22 Early 20th century urban fabric in Rotterdam

displays a wide range of modest moves based

on articulation of wall openings

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

1.23−1.24 Violeta 113. San Juan, Puerto Rico. Andrés Mignucci, Architect.

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

Special Topic

Claiming interior space beyond

the exterior wall

SPECIAL TOPICS 67

1.25 Watanabe House. Sekigawa, Tsuruoka, Japan

Photo © Norman F. Carver, Jr., reprinted with

permission

Territorial zones claim exterior space with series of layered overhangs, columns, steps

and paving surfaces.

68 ZONES OF TRANSITION

Play 1 highlights form in relation to transition. Observing and documenting zones and forms

of transition in vastly different contexts leads to recognition of how varying strategies relate

to different cultural, climatic, geographical and class contexts, as well as varying eras and

preferred building systems. Over time, built up understanding allows a designer to abstract

and understand their organizational schemas, build a broad repertoire or vocabulary of

design strategies and moves and translate structured observation of forms of transition

directly into hands-on design throughout the design process. Designing forms of transition

successfully also requires a basic understanding of territory and of public vs. private.

The challenge

Observe and document zones of transition that mediate between four basic opposing

conditions: light/dark, inside/outside, public/private and up/down.

Select what to observe

Zones of transition occur at different environmental levels and scales. To start, choose

a coherent neighborhood or urban district that favors one predominant building type.

Focus on the zone of exchange where building meets street. While documenting the

range of forms of transition, note those whose materiality, dimension, position and/or

direction recur consistently, perhaps in theme and variation.

Order the zones you observe according to how they relate to the façade:

• zones that claim interior space

• zones that straddle inside and outside

• zones that claim exterior space

Order your observations of zones by type:

• thresholds that provide different gradients and levels of light

• public and private space and associated territorial zones

• zones that mediate height changes

• zones of transition between the building and public space beyond (i.e., the some-

times extensive zones within which various elements move in or out relative to the

wall planes of façades)

Visualize the spatial layers within the zones of transition:

• How many can you identify?

• What is the size range of elements associated with such zones?

• Do the elements themselves exhibit a common dimensional system or range of sizes?

It’s not the napkin sketch,

but what follows …

Publishing early doodles and napkin sketches became

fashionable in the 20th century. However brilliance lies

less in such early sketches than in the architect’s ability

to recognize and pursue their potential. Inspired design

builds upon a strong and consistent design process.

Successful architecture may or may not incorporate

striking new forms, but it is always founded on broad

knowledge of what is already in place. Inspiration favors

the prepared mind.

Structured Observation

Zones and forms of transition

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 69

Create visual models of characteristic gradations or progressions

Define a characteristic range for a quality such as private/public. In expressing that

range, try to define whether it changes in a fairly uniform gradient, or in a series of ranges

that is discontinuous.

Are particular building elements and experiential qualities associated with certain levels of

particular characteristics? For instance: Building interiors represent relatively enclosed

and private interior space with fairly limited direct sunlight. By contrast, sidewalks often

offer sun-drenched, open and unprotected public space. Experientially, front porches,

stoops and walkways through front lawns each fall somewhere between those extremes.

As you document different transitional elements and spaces, do they tend to fall within

recurring dimensional ranges?

Record materials, components and building systems

They are integral to the evolution and realization of the form.

Note recurring transitions

Observe the endless variety of styles, materials, sizes, placements and functional uses of

doors, steps, awnings, porches, balconies, recesses and other basic transitional forms.

They vary widely between cultures, but also within each building culture. The elements

of their design may be elaborate or straightforward, simple or complex, pointedly archi-

tectural or utterly unselfconscious. The important thing is to observe, record and master

real-world forms and ultimately to translate that understanding in ways that strengthen

your design.

Remember the flow of people, fundamental processes and things

Observe and record how people and things enter and exit and where they pause as they

flow into or out of public space: The rituals surrounding the receiving of visitors and pack-

ages are complex. Arrivals may signal their appearance then wait to be admitted. Entry

may entail signaling arrival, setting down loads, shedding exterior protection, wayfinding

and scanning signs, fishing out keys, signing in, leaving notes, making deliveries, etc.

Sketching, photographing or describing people’s behavior relative to a form of transition

is as important as observing the form itself.

Select media

Document this observation through some combination of photographic, annotated

drawing and sketch images.

Consolidate your knowledge by transforming observations into transfor-

mation sequences

Directly apply what you observe to what you design: Generate one or more new transfor-

mation sequences that begin with the Base Form.

70

The “Painted Ladies” of Alamo Square

2.1 San Francisco, California (19th century). Victorian-era builders relied on pattern books and

industrial manufacturers’ catalogues of parts to build vast neighborhoods of ornate wood-frame houses

in theme and variation. Photo © Bernard Gagnon, courtesy of the photographer

71

Start with the basic massing of a simple building and articulate it in series of smaller-

scale exterior transformations

Place

articulating elements

such as

windows and doors,

dormers and

bay windows,

porches,

balconies and recesses

to enrich a

single large volume

and relate it

to human scale.

2 Articulating Exterior Building Form

72 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

Introduction

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Play 2 explores a venerable two-step approach to the design of form that is coherent

and expressive, focusing on the building exterior. Design starts with a basic overall

typological building volume. First, that simple base form is transformed in a series of

localized massing moves that extrude or carve out comparatively small parts. Subse-

quent articulating moves add on or insert building parts or configurations of parts.

Play 2 explores the following topics in focusing on the operational and sequential

relationship between individual parts, the larger configurations they form and their

relationship to the façade and overall volume:

• composing the hierarchical organization, ordering principles and structure of build-

ing parts

• designing and articulating overall building form through an additive sequence of

smaller-scale moves that follow implicit rules

• setting human-scale architectural elements and configurations in place to articulate

the larger design

• negotiating between continuity and invention; between inserting unique buildings

and parts into existing contexts and building continuity with what is already in place

and observable

• understanding how composing building elements in varying ways determines the

range of available design moves and affects overall design

• observing how the particular order in which articulating design moves occur within

the overall sequence may affect design outcomes

2.2 C.A. Belden House. San Francisco (1889)

Walter J. Matthews, Architect. Photo © 2008 Michael

B. Hofmann, courtesy of the photographer

2.3 Bay Windows. “Commonwealth Avenue, in Boston’s

Back Bay,” copyrighted photo by Ken Bergman,

courtesy of the photographer

INTRODUCTION 73

This play requires working synchronously from a number of points of view. Players must

design from the outside in and from the inside out. They must simultaneously respond

to the overall form’s larger and smaller scale spaces, potential uses and territories.

At its best, articulating primary form by adding discrete smaller-scale secondary moves

and parts is strategic: It reflects construction common sense, while also offering great

flexibility of use and creating opportunities for playful or profound thematic variation.

When designers intervene within established vernacular urban settings, it provides a

mechanism for balancing self-expression with contextual continuity: Each step in the

design sequence provides the designer with opportunities to incorporate the shared

contextual language of moves, patterns and add-on parts, reinterpret it or lead form in

an entirely new direction.

The evolving transformation of thematic (vs. non-thematic) buildings

A principal difference between thematic and non-thematic buildings is apparent in the

character of their primary volumes. Non-thematic buildings − particularly monumental

ones − often start out as comparatively complex initial forms.

The form of everyday buildings may evolve over time through series of interventions

to become equally complex. Historically, however, it is unusual for their initial massing

to incorporate irregular large-scale secondary geometries or skew angles. When such

shifts do occur, they generally respond to local conditions or large-scale, cosmological

and/or ritual requirements rather than aesthetic impulses of the designer. Building

parts orient to cardinal directions and sacred mountains, but rarely for conceptual

reasons, such as distant shifts in the urban grid.

The process and sequence of transformation is also very different: One or two smaller-

scale volumetric moves at most may be introduced into the simple massing of ordinary

buildings. Exterior articulation is achieved primarily by adding-on small-scale building

elements such as porticos, porches, balconies, dormers, windows and doors. Articu-

lation is otherwise the result of carving out or stepping back the building volume to

create protected exterior space such as arcades.

Throughout the world, distinct cultures historically produced their own architectural

repertoire of add-on elements. Mashrabiyas in Cairo, galerias acristaladas (glazed

balconies) in Galicia, Boston bay windows and minimal depth French balconies

throughout Paris embody fundamentally local or regional responses to geography,

climate, use and culture.

By the late 18th century, however, the environmental game had changed: Widespread

industrialized mass production of building components had begun to introduce new

and unfamiliar parts and configurations to distant markets, greatly expanding the local

vocabulary within longstanding traditions of additive articulation. In the 19th century,

intensive building activity often incorporated new styles that relied on remotely

2.4 Mashrabiya. Bayt al-Kritliyya House (Gayer-

Anderson Museum), Cairo (1642). Copyrighted photo

by Berthold Werner, courtesy of the photographer

2.5 Informal façade alterations and add-on

configurations. Bastia, Corsica. Copyrighted photo

by Jonathan Teicher

74 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

and industrially produced building parts to create neighborhoods of a distinct new

character:

• Ornate Victorian residential architecture spread in conjunction with the everyday

use of factory-produced wooden detailing and ornament. It was further popularized

by the widespread distribution of builders’ pattern books.

• The industrial manufacture of ornamental cast iron building elements came to define

urban districts as different as Manhattan’s SoHo and the Vieux Carée of New Orleans.

• Subsequently, the 20th century use and aesthetic of streamlined industrial building

products such as concrete, steel and aluminum became a driving force behind vari-

ous movements worldwide.

In the 21st century, traditional ways of designing, producing and styling familiar build-

ing types persist. However, as the character of built environment grows increasingly

diverse, traditional building types and forms now coexist with buildings that house

evolving lifestyles and settings with technical, material and stylistic innovation. Neigh-

borhoods often incorporate any number of interspersed building types, patterns,

systems, parts and materials.

In the resulting cross-fertilization, everyday architecture and its regional typologies

and construction methods continue to evolve. When change originates in the informal

sector, it occurs primarily one building at a time, through small-scale bottom-up acts

of accretion and articulation, with materiality and detailing that combines both tradi-

tional and more contemporary ways of building. Professional architecture that tends to

involve larger non-thematic projects often straddles tradition and innovation in a fusion

of new and traditional forms, materials, systems and building methods.

PLAY 2A − ARTICULATING EXTERIOR FORM IN A TWO-STEP PROCESS 75

This simple base form features a gabled roof profile of the sort found throughout

temperate climates. Start with the base form and transform it in two ways: First, extend

the form or subtract from it in a short sequence of volumetric moves that refine the

overall mass and profile of the basic building. Next, select smaller-scale architectural

elements to add on to the larger volume in a series of secondary articulating moves.

Observe the extent to which secondary articulation determines the overall character

and experience of the architecture.

Play 2a

Articulating Exterior Building Form

in a Two-Step Process

~?

....

O•

.~~

8'

'2.-20

4m

12'(

3.6

m)

10'(

3m

)10

'(3m

)8

'(2

.4m

)

204m

204m

204m

204m

76 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

RULES OF PLAY

Base form

The base form defines the volume of an entire building, complete with plan dimensions

and floor heights.

Order of play

First refine the overall volume. Then add articulating moves.

Vertically zone the placement of parts in advance

Develop initial rules about the placement of specific secondary elements: Should a

given part be placed in the base, middle and/or top zone?

Base form material

Players may choose to leave the basic materials of the overall volume unspecified

during a quick initial pass at design. However, defining materials and underlying build-

ing systems offers helpful additional constraints and an incentive to further articulate

the character, construction and connections of the elements.

Keep the base form clearly in view

Maintain the basic underlying building form as a prominent and easily read design

element throughout the play sequence.

Create a coherent selection of secondary articulating elements

Compose a palette of add-on elements − either prior to starting or during design.

Observe how careful selection of a limited palette helps to control the design process.

Work simultaneously at multiple scales

Play each volumetric or façade move on multiple levels: Transform the form locally

while simultaneously taking into account the broader overall context of the design and

adjusting it accordingly.

Strive for coherence

Make certain that the design as a whole is coherent. (You need not design all four

elevations.)

Avoid rigidity

Improvise as you design. Allow yourself some leeway when it comes to enforcing pre-

established dimensional or other zoning guidelines, expanding the selection of add-on

elements and refining or making special exceptions to placement rules. Consistency

need not be absolute. Above all, listen to the form: Bend the rules as the form requires.

Media

Choose freely. If you opt to design digitally, create you own library of parts.

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 77

In-Depth Considerations

STRATEGIES

All articulating moves are not equal

Add-on elements can significantly influence overall form by virtue of their size, complex-

ity, location, meaning, degree of privacy or core connection to principal activities within

the building. Some relatively minor autonomous façade elements may be introduced in

any order. However, the sequence of addition may strongly affect subsequent devel-

opment. For instance, adding a building entry − no matter how minor − establishes

or transforms building circulation and implies a broad organizational schema for the

entire building.

Classify add-on elements by zone

It is useful to list and classify exterior façade elements according to their presence

within the base, middle and/or top zone. Observe that the form, use, character and/or

detailing of elements will often change as they recur in different zones.

Run regulating zones and regulating lines vertically through the building

Regulating zones and lines can be expressed prominently through modifications to the

base volume. Or they may simply be used as an invisible means of organizing the place-

ment of autonomous elements. Major regulating lines tend to reinforce formal axes.

Consider proportions

Reinforcing geometrical consonance between smaller individual parts and the larger

whole with every move is essential to this design performance.

Create dimensional systems

A related technique for establishing continuity throughout any three-dimensional built

field is the repetition − both vertically and horizontally − of key families of dimensions

that are linked to the human body and to fundamental usable ranges of size, as in Le

Corbusier’s Modulor.

Imprint form with human scale and use

Specific architectural configurations become associated with particular ranges of

use, placement, dimension and proportion for good reason. Highly localized articu-

lating decisions such as individual window placement, sill height, glazing properties

and operability further define relative spatial character and a gradient of intimacy. The

different scale and placement of a slender French balcony vs. a balcony that serves

as an outdoor room signals a very different relationship between the private interior

and the public space beyond the façade, coupled with a vastly different range of uses.

Beautiful and harmonious proportions

Leading Italian Renaissance architects including Leon

Battista Alberti, Sebastiano Serlio, Francesco di Giorgio

Martini and Andrea Palladio followed in the footsteps of

Vitruvius, setting down lists of beautiful and harmonious

room proportions. Palladio’s shortlist of harmonious pro-

portions includes the following:

1:1 circle

1:1 square

1:1.333… (3:4) square + 1/3

1:1.414… (1:√2) diagonal of the square

1:1.5 (2:3) square + 1/2

1:1.666 (3:5) square + 2/3

1:2 double square

Most of these ratios correspond to pure intervals in

music. Others are echoed throughout mathematics

and in patterns and geometries of organic growth.

Nonetheless, culture and personal judgment ulti-

mately define good proportion.

The Golden Section or Divina proportione (1.612…,

derived by solving a/b = a+b/a) was avoided by archi-

tects until the 19th century, when Adolf Zeising pub-

lished his research on proportions in nature and art. In

the 20th century, the Golden Section was a foundation

of Ernst Neufert's anthropomorphic studies and of Le

Corbusier's Modulor system of proportions.

As sizes, shapes, placements, spacings, rhythms and

ratios build up, they form three-dimensional proportion

systems. The rules of those systems then set geometrical

relationships between constituent parts and larger wholes.

78 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

Specify the material composition of the primary volume

Materials shape façade character and the selection and connection to the base form of

articulating elements. Forms that are fundamentally stereotomic — made of compres-

sive materials such as concrete, stone, and masonry — lend themselves to subtrac-

tive volumetric moves and relatively small and discrete articulating moves. Openings

are often expressed as punched holes in otherwise continuous building surfaces. By

contrast, tectonic assemblies made of wood, steel and truss or space frame structures

work in both compression and tension. Building envelopes built on such structures

may easily insert or attach large or complex configurations.

Incorporate elements with multiple readings and uses

Articulating elements may add richness to design by offering multiple spatial and terri-

torial readings and/or serving multiple purposes. For instance: Add-on elements may

simultaneously serve lower level configurations while completing higher-level struc-

tures; bay window and porch roofs may provide balconies.

BEAR IN MIND

Design simultaneously from large to small and from small to large

Design proceeds in multiple directions simultaneously: To articulate a large initial

volume, a designer adds small parts; assembles room-sized parts, frameworks or part-

whole configurations; and defines space with partitions. The ability to design in each of

those ways is directly tied to the ability to parse the overall composition of the building

in multiple ways. When buildings are perceived as unitary sculptural shapes rather than

as assemblages of component parts, transformation proceeds overwhelmingly from

large to small.

Design simultaneously inward and outward

In focusing on the building envelope, this play emphasizes working from the outside

in while simultaneously anticipating the potential character of interior space and the

opportunities each move creates − or precludes. Design also proceeds simultane-

ously from the inside out. It balances urban space, rooflines, façades, public/private

and interior/exterior relationships and the sequence, quality, experience and capacity

of interior spaces.

In the hierarchy of design and construction, interior design follows architecture. Many

building types accordingly offer comparatively changeable and potentially shorter-

lived interior subdivisions. Subdivision and internal partitioning then remain largely

independent from design of the overall building and façade. By contrast, in non-

thematic design, when form follows function, façade design may become subordinate

to interior subdivisions of space and use driven by program.

SAMPLE PLAY 2.1 − PRIMARY AND SECONDARY MOVES 79

This sample play succinctly illustrates how volumetric and additive moves reshape and

articulate the simple base form.

The first three moves illustrate primary volumetric transformation at the scale of the

overall building volume. They refine and set the shape of the large-scale volume while

respecting its overall integrity. Subsequent moves then introduce smaller architectural

elements to articulate the design. They set up interior/exterior views and embody

intentions regarding inside/outside movement, organization of internal access to vari-

ous parts of the form, spatial sequence and natural lighting and ventilation.

The designer’s evocation of traditional residential architecture neither aids nor detracts

from the overall design performance and its explicit goals: Play 2 is not about style. It is

about a general form-making approach, applying specific design methods and how a

simple series of exterior moves begins to evoke a coherent architecture and suggest

interior distribution of spaces while leaving the form open to many alternate interior

floor plans.

Sample Play 2.1

Primary and secondary moves

BASE FORM A simple box with a gabled roof

M1 Articulated roof form and entry

M2 A bay to the right

M3 Dormer windows on the roof and articulation of a

front porch with front steps

M4 An oriel window on the side bay

M5 Fenestration and a railing for the porch

M1 M2

M3 M4 M5

BASE FORM

80 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

Hierarchies of assembly

The relationship between volumetric and articulating moves is hierarchical and asym-

metrical: While secondary articulating moves can be made without compromising

volumetric moves, the reverse may not hold true.

Such hierarchies of physical assembly have a direct effect on architecture: Environ-

mental design routinely starts at the top of the physical hierarchy and works downward.

It is a matter of common sense to avoid needless disruption and rework. For instance:

• First the layout of the street and building lots is finalized. Only then does the design

of individual buildings proceed. Otherwise, a modest change in lot size, street width

or alignment at any point could wipe out pre-existing buildings and designs.

• At the next environmental layer down, buildings, spaces, rooms and wall openings

are laid out prior to detailing interiors and specifying appliances, fixtures, equipment,

furnishings and furniture.

The order of construction parallels the order of design, beginning with site preparation

and subsurface civil engineering.

The benefits of observing the hierarchical order of assembly continue throughout the

useful life of the building: Secondary parts in the hierarchy of assembly, when properly

detailed, can be freely upgraded, reconfigured and/or demolished and replaced at any

time without disturbing primary parts. Different areas of the building and/or different

tenancies can therefore transform independently, without impacting others.

In a simple solo design play in which all form remains plastic, the effects of violating

fundamental hierarchies of assembly are often trivial. However, as design coordinates

increasing numbers of parts, systems and players, the potential consequences of

cascading effects that result from out-of-sequence design quickly multiply.

Special Topic

Assembly of form

SPECIAL TOPICS 81

Part–whole assemblies

Almost every architectural configuration can be broken down into a smaller physical hier-

archy of assembly of configurations and parts … which is in turn composed of smaller

configurations and parts. Such part–whole assemblies are, by definition, assemblages

composed of discrete parts that are, in turn, recognizable as complete entities.

Whether design involves traditional building methods and materials or pre-engineered

and pre-configured industrialized systems and kits of parts, configurations are

composed or transformed by combining, disassembling, changing out or reconfig-

uring various component parts. Part–whole assemblies, when recognized, provide

additional choices at a fine-grained level of design. In upgrading a façade wall with

substantial glazing, one might variously: replace existing windows with new units; add

balconies and bay windows; replace recurring windows with a continuous storefront

system; or replace the entire façade with a structural glazing or curtain wall system.

To understand what is possible and how to design in each instance requires breaking

part–whole assemblies down, deconstructing them into component parts and then

reconfiguring them in whole or in part.

Plays 2a and 2b therefore call attention to part–whole assemblies, beginning with

familiar and easily deconstructed configurations that are routinely added to the build-

ing exterior: balconies, porches, sunrooms, bay windows, etc.

2.6 Part–whole assemblies. A configuration can

frequently be read both as a unitary entity and as

an assemblage of constituent parts. Copyrighted

drawing by N. John Habraken

82 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

The uses of conceptual deconstruction

Organizing complex form according to the logic of assembly based on physical hier-

archy is only one among many ways in which buildings can be understood. Forms may

otherwise be deconstructed as compositions of different parts and configurations –

spatial sequences, hierarchical or processional spaces, architectural planes, façade

elements, structural pieces, architectural systems, colors, functions, materials, etc. In

time, designers intuitively train their eyes to perceive architectural forms as overlap-

ping series of compositions and to select the most useful breakdown for framing and

fine-tuning design moves in a given situation.

While this may sound abstract, its impact on design is direct: In defining the configura-

tions that compose a building, we set the palette of elements with which we will design.

This also determines where and how we will limit transformation. Understanding the

hierarchy of design is crucial when designing any configuration or assembly of forms.

It precludes out-of-sequence volumetric moves late in the game that would force unin-

tended changes to secondary parts. It also sets up the designer to design and detail

shorter-lived secondary design elements in ways that allow them to be manipulated,

added or subtracted without having the effects of such changes ripple throughout the

more static primary volume.

2.7 Architectural parts and configurations of a

residential façade. San Juan, Puerto Rico

Drawing © 1982 by Andrés Mignucci from Projective

Architecture: Studies Toward the Meaning and

Generative Language of Associative Built Form

~i

SIJIHIUI F.:\TS

SIIII-SfS TEIIS

nf.II E~TS

.~

II~SIC: SfSTE~1 '\'~SE'IIIU:1l Sf STEil

I-~

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

f.II

SPECIAL TOPICS 83

Building base, middle and top

Buildings as diverse as skyscrapers, mid-rise buildings and bungalows characteris-

tically divide into three similar vertically stacked zones, comprising two ends and a

middle. Those zones jointly clarify the compositional principles and architectural char-

acter of the building exterior by ordering the placement of architectural elements.

The base zone (ground form) defines public and private territorial zones at street level

and the relationship of the building to the ground plane. It implements the designer’s

chosen strategies regarding connection to the street, entry sequence and incorporat-

ing sectional changes in the ground plane.

The top or roof zone silhouettes the building in figure/ground against the sky, contrib-

utes to the urban skyline and reinforces the identity of the building at the urban scale.

The middle zone serves as the trunk or body of the building. It extends between the two

end forms and can be composed of one or more unique stories or many similar stacked

stories that accommodate similar activities.

Elements of vertical circulation and technical infrastructure will often continuously

span all zones. Windows and doors will recur similarly throughout them. The selec-

tion of architectural elements within each zone otherwise tends to vary: The subset

of elements found in the base zone potentially includes all configurations specifically

associated with exterior transition: entryways, vestibules, arcades, porches, stoops,

verandas and other building extensions, steps, stairs, arcades, bay windows and load-

ing bays. The middle zone may house windows, balconies, galleries, bay windows and

loggias. The top zone may incorporate dormers, skylights, penthouses, equipment and

roof gardens and terraces.

2.8 Building section illustrating three basic vertical

building zones − the base, middle and top zones

TOP

MIDDLE

BASE

TOP

MIDDLE

BASE

84 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

Special Topic

Finding the place of the special

within the ordinary

Design is often conceived in a process that is defined by a specific owner, site,

program and designer. Yet the forms we create remain inextricably linked to larger

natural, built, historical and sociocultural landscapes as well. Everyday environments

tend to be highly thematic. Urban fabrics throughout a region often constitute a family

of typologically linked but distinct forms. Local vernacular buildings constitute families

of forms that inhabit a shared landscape and incorporate similar structures, patterns,

forms, materials, systems and series of transformations.

In vernacular and professional architecture alike, certain key dimensions, elements

and sequences of moves repeat rhythmically, propelled by parallel circumstances,

shared cultural references, preferences and common sense. The resulting continuity

of rhythm and proportion, patterns, dimensions, materials and series of parts may span

façades, blocks, neighborhoods or regions.

Thematic design emphasizes awareness of the fundamentally hierarchical and

systematic composition of environmental settings and of the typical repetitive systems,

patterns and elements that frame our environment. It argues that each individual design

move occurs in relation to the broader formal thematic setting within which it occurs.

Tokonomas

The tokonoma is a contemplative shallow display alcove. It

traditionally juxtaposes a special post − one that retains its

natural appearance − against the exquisitely refined sur-

faces, objects and overall composition of its setting.

2.10 Residence of renowned Meiji-era samurai

couple Joseph and Yae Neesima (Niijima)

Kyoto (19th century). Photo © Yoshifusa Mutsumi,

courtesy of hanaartsjapan.com

2.9 Shokintei Pavilion. Katsura Imperial Villa, Kyoto

(17th century). Photo © Peter Lloyd, courtesy of

the photographer, with permission of the Imperial

Household Agency Kyoto Office

SPECIAL TOPICS 85

But as we observe characteristic streets, alleys, sidewalks, building lots, entries, balco-

nies, etc., there are inevitable breaks in the pattern. Sooner or later, things out of the

ordinary occur: Geometries and relationships between parts shift. Secondary themes

appear. The placement and/or rhythm of elements is disrupted. Non-thematic build-

ings, squares and streets appear. Non-thematic signature moves instill unique identity

in otherwise generic building façades. Changes in color, material, direction or detailing

punctuate the continuous surface of exterior walls.

Non-thematic elements appear in many ways at each environmental level. Such

breaks in the internal logic and continuity of the design often evidence complex larger

relationships. Building designers otherwise introduce unique profiles, accent bricks

or mortar patterns to relieve the monotony of continuous surfaces; displace, rotate,

reshape or replace individual windows or insert highly ornate balconies in the midst of

static arrays of windows; or design dramatically cantilevered or suspended entrance

canopies or slender vertical supporting elements at provocative skew angles to trans-

form the entries of non-descript buildings and elevate them above the ordinary.

The processes that introduce the unexpected often seem unstructured. As designers,

we know that finding the right spot for idiosyncratic and/or poetic moves and signature

elements, or adjusting their shapes, sizes and locations is a hands-on affair. It is often

driven by a vision and realized by iterative adjustment, guided by eye and by feel. None-

theless, such moves are neither irrational nor beyond formal analysis. Subsequent

scrutiny will generally reveal that they “close the circle” in some way, subtly resolving

unmet needs. Those needs may be purely formal, compositional and geometrical − as

in Le Corbusier’s “place of the right angle.” They may be behavioral − as in landscape

architecture’s reliance on “desire lines” in locating paths. Like clusters of leaves that

exceptionally sprout directly from a tree trunk, signature add-on elements sometimes

leap across the environmental hierarchy, resolving the unresolved design of a higher

level with small-scale moves.

Along the same lines, the placement of axes and of unique doors and windows,

sculptures, shrines or other focal elements may bring a building into alignment with

or respond directly to larger-scale urban and landscape features and forms, cardinal

directions, cosmological, phenomenological, religious and cultural frameworks, etc.

Windows, lanterns, cupolas, rooms, wings or entire buildings rotate to align with cardi-

nal directions, coasts, mountains or other large-scale defining landscape elements

or to frame vast or symbolic views. Feng shui places key building elements based on

conditions that are large-scale and cosmological rather than small-scale and personal.

86 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

Special Topic

Creating and analyzing thematic environment

Traditionally, builders have custom composed and constructed each everyday building

of a given type. Victorian-era wood-framed houses in San Francisco were composed

using similar massing moves and kits of articulating parts while following similar rules.

Guided by local examples and by pattern books, carpenters freely combined basic

typological configurations, specific selections of industrially mass-produced building

parts, commonly accepted building systems, construction rules of thumb and design

rules. While each design and color scheme is exuberantly unique, the rows of houses

share unifying thematic qualities.

Decoding such existing urban fabrics into systems, elements, sets of rules and kits

of parts allows a designer to critically analyze local thematic structure and dominant

building types. That analysis provides a foundation for successful design interven-

tion in ways that allow multiple designers − often at different times and on different

environmental levels − to create freely and compatibly while steadily building overall

environmental coherence.

2.11 De Lano House. San Francisco, California (1884)

Photo © 1984 by Michael B. Hofmann, courtesy of

the photographer

2.13 Elevation of Clay Street, San Francisco – The assembled façade as a system of variants

2.12, 2.13 Drawings © 1982 R. Thomas Hille from

Understanding and Transforming What’s There: A Look at

the Formal Rule Structure of the Residential Façade Zone in

Victorian San Francisco, courtesy of the author

2.12 Victorian San Francisco: A set of elementary parts and façade components shown in their

relative positions

SPECIAL TOPICS 87

2.14 Two different façades in which the library of elements has been used 2.15 Library of elements arranged in a dimensionally

and architecturally coherent way

Special Topic

Kits of parts

When design guidelines and pre-selected elements are combined, they allow multi-

ple building designers to intervene coherently in fine-grained theme and variation

within urban fabric. This example develops a kit of parts of façade elements and

establishes dimensional and positioning rules. They are then used to design two

thematic façade variations.

When you create only one unit or small building at a time, such methodological

approaches to generating form may seem unnecessary. Architects can even design

a handful of stylistically linked residences, such as the Rue Mallet-Stevens in Paris,

without undue attention to design methods. However, designers now receive commis-

sions to create dozens or hundreds of units at a time. At that point, they must choose a

design method: They may — as became popular after World War II — impose top-down

limits on variation and follow stereotypical programs to create limited selections of

model units that accommodate a pre-established range of needs. Or they may adopt

historical design methods that allow them to quickly and efficiently generate coherent

series of custom designs in theme and variation.

Today, manufacturers and design firms organize digital libraries of stylistically compat-

ible elements with alternative details for different conditions. The availability of easily

customized pre-selected groupings of parametric objects promotes the thematic

design of inherently coherent series of projects. The use of kits of parts and architec-

tural libraries also streamlines internal design coordination.

2.14, 2.15 Transformation sequence of façade elements.

Copyrighted drawings by R. Thomas Hille from The

Grunsfeld Variations: A report on the thematic development

of an urban tissue by John Habraken et al., courtesy of R.

Thomas Hille

-1M!:r-;·

.11- .t1

~. ~

~=1 ill

':2

.,.,n

41 H'fi2

~ij

·f l r

1- ..•" .

.~

"

';;-:1"

H'fi2

41 H'fi2H'fi2

H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2

H'fi2

H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2

H'fi2

H'fi2

H'fi2

H'fi2H'fi2 H'fi2 H'fi2

H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2

H'fi2H'fi2H'fi2 H'fi2

H'fi2

88 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Play 2a emphasized small-scale additive volumetric transformation of the base form

followed by articulation of the exterior. In Play 2b, the focus during initial volumetric

transformation is specifically on modifying the initial base volume in a quick succes-

sion of subtractive primary moves: carving the building mass. Volumetric transforma-

tion is once again followed by articulation.

Play 2b begins with a simple extruded orthogonal solid with a flat roof as a base

form. This epitomizes an initial building form and approach that is common throughout

the equatorial latitudes. Carving the base form creates habitable territories such as

terraces and overhangs that result in additional spatial definition and sheltered space

below.

This play encourages strong horizontal planes and overhangs. It provides opportuni-

ties for habitable roof terraces, penthouse structures, etc. that shape the top zone of

the building. The new base form requires a new and different selection of secondary

elements appropriate to its form language.

RULES OF PLAY

Follow the rules stated in Play 2a.

Play 2b

Articulating Exterior Building Form −

Transforming a Cube

30°(

10m

)

10m

)10

m)

10m

)

10m

)10

m)

10m

)10

m)

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 89

BEAR IN MIND

Continue to observe hierarchy of assembly

Volumetric moves remain hierarchically superior to articulating moves. First modify

the overall base volume in a series of subtractive moves. Then introduce smaller-scale

elements to articulate the resulting building volume.

Compare and contrast performances of Plays 2a and 2b

The contrasts between plays using base forms 2a and 2b demonstrate how a given

methodological approach can serve varied architectures with fundamentally different

associations. After judging individual moves and overall performance on their own

merits, carefully compare and contrast performances of both plays:

• What kinds of spaces do additive or subtractive types of moves specifically generate?

• How do rules of proportion play into each design method?

• In each method, how does the character of the vertical zones – base, middle, top – differ?

2.16 Schröder House. Utrecht, Netherlands (1924)

Gerrit Rietveld, Architect. Copyrighted photo by

Jonathan Teicher

In-Depth Considerations

90 ARTICULATING EXTERIOR BUILDING FORM

In surveying building exteriors in coherent settings, it becomes readily apparent that

every culture and/or region favors particular vocabularies of articulating moves and

families of basic building forms. The specific selections of parts and implicit placement

rules then vary over time and from place to place.

At the conclusion of Play 2, it is useful to return to direct real world observation of two-

step processes of building design − processes that follow volumetric transformation

with local articulation − as well as one-step (articulation-only) processes. This closing

exercise is intended to further structure your observational approach and hone your

ability to document real world examples of discrete exterior elements. The goal is not

to assemble a catalog or library of observed parts and configurations for the purpose

of appropriating them directly into your own design. It is rather to strengthen the direct

links between observing form, projecting form and shaping additive elements and

volumetric moves compatible with your own design sensibility.

Structured Observation

Exterior add-on building elements

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 91

The challenge

Observe and record building elements that recur throughout a given built field. Focus

both on commonalities and on non-thematic one-off variations. When you encounter

the latter, observe where in the building form anomalies occur. If possible, ascertain

why they occur and the extent to which they respond to site, functional, aesthetic,

social, ritual or other factors.

Select where to initially observe

Observe and record recurring elements in a formally coherent neighborhood that is

nearby. Its buildings should offer in theme and variation a rich diversity of exterior

add-on architectural elements and zones of transition: e.g., doors, windows, store-

fronts, entries, vestibules, porches, bay windows, stoops, verandas, arcades, balconies,

bay or oriel windows, loggias, dormers, skylights, roof terraces, etc.

Record your observations

Record your observations in a sketchbook, notebook and/or annotated digital collection.

Use field observation to enlarge your kit of parts

Share and expand your library of design elements, freely incorporating parts from

other designers and places.

Break it down

Use this structured observation as an opportunity to train your eye to break down

the environmental forms you observe into various compositions of parts in ways that

directly influence design. When focusing on part–whole configurations, break them

down further into smaller architectural elements. Whether you analyze alternative

readings of a typological framework, an entire building or a façade, try to observe and

record the rules by which parts relate to one other, to the whole of the larger configura-

tion and to the urban fabric.

Follow with synthesis

To complete the observation and apply it directly to hands-on design, create a new kit

of parts that translates what you have observed into a more personal design idiom.

Wherever possible, design those parts based on locally fabricated available materials.

Questions to ask

What larger rhythms or patterns begin to emerge

throughout the form or series of forms?

Do elements recur in specific horizontal or vertical zones

or in specific relation to other building parts?

What elements appear to recur because of factors other

than function?

What specific characteristics seem to hold constant from

element to element across a number of buildings?

What characteristics and elements appear to be set as

defining parts of the basic typological theme?

What aspects of design do building designers freely

establish or change?

Can you identify small add-on elements that relate

directly to forms on a higher environmental level?

92

3.1 Section model. Photo by Seier+Seier,

licensed under Creative Commons 2.0 and

with permission of Kim Utzon

Physical models provide continuous direct views

in every direction throughout the designer’s field

of vision. Longitudinal sketch section models cut

through the building to provide simultaneous views

and opportunities to refine the design and flow of

space in all directions, particularly from front to

back and from the ground to the uppermost roof

level. In row buildings with blind party walls on deep

lots, the form of the roof offers a major opportunity

to introduce natural light and ventilation. Jørn

Utzon's longitudinal section model of the Melli

Bank highlights the architect's use of arrays of roof

lanterns that span the space between parallel

walls as a means to compose the shape, pattern,

texture and rhythm of the natural light drawn

into the building's central dominant space. It is an

early thematic precedent to his masterwork – the

Bagsværd Church (1976).

Melli Bank, Tehran (1962). Jørn Utzon, Architect

93

Start with a room-sized space.

It is bounded by blind walls on two sides and faces a street on a third side.

Working in longitudinal section, transform it in a sequence of moves to create a row

house bathed in natural light.

Design in section.

Indicate construction,

volumetric space and use of natural light.

Draw in two dimensions.

Think in three dimensions.

Designing in Longitudinal Section3

94 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

This play explores longitudinal section as a primary form-making tool. Players begin

to explore the relationship between structure, space and hands-on manipulation of

form through preliminary design of a row house in longitudinal section. The focus is

on developing the ability to visualize and walk through a building in the mind’s eye,

experiencing its architectural qualities and shaping certain basic approaches, patterns

and qualities. It highlights in particular basic strategies and techniques for introducing

natural light in ways that reinforce the overall architecture.

Introduction

3.3 Interior material strategies. Thin Flats,

Philadelphia. Onion Flats, Architects. The

combination of skylights and other roof

opening configurations together with

material strategies such as translucent floors,

transparent openings in interior walls and

open grating stair steps helps natural light to

penetrate down to lower floors. Copyrighted

photo by Timothy McDonald, courtesy of

the architect

3.2 Mediated natural light as generator of form

Violeta 150, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Andrés Mignucci

and Maribel Ortiz, Architects. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

INTRODUCTION 95

Why design in section?

Building sections can convey a great deal of fundamental architectural information

subtly and quickly. However, they are often underutilized, relegated to the tail end

of design to convey efficiently technical information regarding construction, energy

conservation strategies, waterproofing, etc. In short, they are often used to portray

information that is technical − rather than architectural − in nature.

Each building section or section elevation represents only one particular slice through

a building. Nonetheless, during each design phase, design sections have the potential

to develop crucial information regarding the fundamental relationship between inside

and outside, spatial organization and character, proportion and structure as well as

natural illumination and ventilation. Design sections − like plan and elevation projec-

tions − also correctly represent dimensions, angles and proportions.

It is hard to draw a longitudinal section at any scale without exploring how a building is

put together in ways that incorporate all of these design characteristics. The longitudi-

nal section is arguably the two-dimensional projection that offers the greatest insight

into the overall spatial experience, configuration and progression of three-dimensional

form. Because of the breadth of information it provides, the longitudinal section readily

becomes a key orthographic projection for visualizing architecture.

3.4 Carving into the roof to bring in light from above

Apartment Building, Athens, De.Ar Architects.

Copyrighted photo courtesy of the architect

96 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

Why a row house?

Multi-story row houses (sometimes known as townhouses, townhomes or terrace

housing) are ubiquitous. Although the term often suggests the blocks of medium

density housing that became increasingly popular from the 18th century on, multi-

story row houses were already common throughout Egyptian cities such as Thebes

(3rd millennium bc). They have continued to appear under an assortment of names

throughout many different cultures and eras in a vast variety of typological forms.

Beyond minor variation when accommodating vertical circulation, structure is entirely

conventional in row houses. The basic structural diagram of the row house built

between party walls is simple: Beams easily span the cross-width of the site between

bearing walls, with intermediate posts and beams or internal spine walls added as

needed. The essence of almost any row house − its construction, spatial organiza-

tion and character − can be conveyed substantially in a single strategically selected

longitudinal section.

Bounded to a great extent by existing conventions of street frontage and structure and

by blind side walls, row house design focuses to a great extent on internal organization.

Its design is universally defined by several significant creative challenges:

3.5 Section of a typical 18th century courtyard row house with multiple interior patios. Casa Tavárez,

San Juan, Puerto Rico. Copyrighted drawing by Fernando Abruña & Alberto del Toro, Architects,

courtesy of Fernando Abruña

Served, dominant and servant space

Row houses − like most building types − feature a hier-

archy of three distinct kinds of space (adapted from the

famous distinction drawn by Louis Kahn):

Served space refers to space with the built-in capac-

ity to accommodate a range of basic activities. Series of

such spaces set the scale, rhythm and primary structure

of the building as a whole.

Served spaces tend to be arranged around one or more

dominant spaces: particularly important served spaces

that come in a wide variety of forms. Dominant spaces

− from large central sky lit halls to more modest inward-

looking spaces − are often conspicuously large, tall and/

or ornate, with special detailing. Their placement anchors

and stabilizes the building’s organization as a whole.

Servant spaces accommodate a wide range of func-

tions in support of the served spaces of the building. They

provide utilitarian support and tend to be placed inward

toward the dark core and/or the rear of the building.

INTRODUCTION 97

The first is introducing natural light into the center of the building and its lower floors.

The second has to do with the internal arrangement of varied room sizes within a largely

fixed volume. Balancing and arranging dominant, served and servant spaces within that

enclosed form often poses a significant three-dimensional logistical puzzle.

The third challenge is thematic and inherently social: In every cultural setting where

row houses are common, what row houses look like, how they are organized, dimen-

sioned and used is commonly understood. By definition, they also tend to be surrounded

by typologically similar buildings. The question is how best to therefore intervene as a

designer.

One of the most important aspects of any given building type is the flow of people and

functions within. The characteristically narrow width of the row house makes the spatial

sequence that accommodates that flow even more important.

The longitudinal section is singularly useful for providing a systemic overview of repeti-

tive strategies for capturing and utilizing daylight. When drawn appropriately, it clearly

illustrates the light-inflected character of progression through space: how repetitive

forms capture daylight and shape its character and rhythm; how daylight reinforces the

architecture and interior character of space and its use; how light draws building users

through space, brings them to a halt, encourages them to turn toward transitional

spaces, etc.

All of these factors make the row house an ideal laboratory for exploring sectional trans-

formation in a way that links directly to observable real world conditions and precedents.

Semi-autonomous design of the

façade and zone of transition

Row house building frontage often incorporates typo-

logical patterns related to the design and symmetry of

the façade, its relationship to the public realm and use of

street frontage. Such characteristics are likely to recur

regardless of how a particular row house and its site are

used. For instance:

• Many historic Taiwanese vernacular fabrics feature

modest single-story frontage row houses protected by

low roofs that slope toward the street, in anticipation

of storefronts. (The stores themselves may or may not

follow.) A much larger building frequently arises toward

the rear of the lot, separated from the initial row house

by a courtyard.

• Stone stoops in historic Amsterdam canal houses and

Manhattan brownstones, Georgian London areas entered

via individual wrought iron bridges and brick English

basement entryways in Washington, D.C. similarly fea-

ture first floor heights about 3 – 6' (0.9 –1.8m) above

grade. In each building type, the main floor is similarly

lifted up to provide direct access on two levels at the

front entry. The excavated lower level is just high

enough to place windows above grade within low-ceil-

inged habitable space. To a certain extent, such typo-

logical features, together with various other cultural fac-

tors regarding the public aspect of the building and its

zone of transition, determine the character of the façade

independently from its interior architecture and layout.

Despite such commonalities, the character, dimension

and function of the public/private zone of transition

remains distinct from one building type to the next, in ways

that create very different organization of space within the

buildings. In all cases, row house layout is also greatly

affected − among other contributing factors − by vertical

circulation: where it is placed, how it is configured and how

it relates to the rest of the building organization.

98 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

RULES OF PLAY

Base form

The base form presents a small initial space located toward the front of a row house

lot. The building faces a street and may extend both upward and backward toward the

rear of the lot. The row house presumably spans between two unseen parallel party

walls, as is typical. A small set of exterior steps at the front suggests the presence of

a comparatively public space. However, the location of any transition from public to

private is unspecified.

Dimensions

The building volume should fit within a prescribed building envelope that is in keeping

with vernacular row house types: Maintain a spanning distance of 16'–24' (6m–7.5m)

between the walls and limit the height of the building to 3–5 stories. Within those

parameters, neither the length of the two blind party walls nor the width of the lot is

specified: Those dimensions can adjust to accommodate your design.

Natural light

As a rule, dominant and served spaces require natural light.

Location, climate and orientation

Specify a particular geographical location, climate and compass orientation for your

base form. For the purposes of diagrammatic natural lighting design, it is important

to form a general three-dimensional mental model of seasonal solar paths and sun

angles. It is not necessary to model the building digitally or to render it in order to

pinpoint sun angles at different times of day throughout the year. Studying interior

photos, paintings and sketches and then depicting lighting hands-on in comparable

ways in your own sections is an excellent way to get an intuitive feel for the complex

ways in which light and shadow spread through rooms and across interior floor, wall

and ceiling surfaces.

Play 3

Design In Longitudinal Section

or Between Two Walls

12'

(3.6

5m)

DIR

EC

TIO

NO

FG

RO

WT

H36

'(11

m)

max

.

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m) .6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m) .6

5m)

.65m

) .65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

)

.65m

)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

)

.65m

).6

5m)

.65m

)

PLAY 3 − BETWEEN TWO WALLS 99

Development of the section

Design and document a move-by-move transformation sequence. It should depict a

well-developed and harmonious arrangement of dominant, served and servant spaces

in a variety of sizes. Freely incorporate skylights and light wells, step the roof and/or

modify the ground plane. Introduce courtyards sparingly.

Open-ended function

Allow the sizes, positions and relationships of spaces to suggest a range of possi-

ble uses. Do not specify particular uses for individual spaces or tailor rooms to meet

detailed programmatic requirements for specific uses.

Zones of transition

Your section should define public/private and interior/exterior zones of transition.

Number of moves

It is difficult to impose an absolute limit on the total number of moves for Play 3. Partic-

ularly during your initial performance, try to cap play at about 10 moves.

Solving the right puzzle

Confront the spatial challenge of this three-dimensional puzzle head-on. Create bold

floor level changes and variations in ceiling height to clearly and effectively articulate

your design intent, rather than oversimplifying the three-dimensional puzzle or using

procedural cunning to sidestep it. Do not: rigidly standardize room heights; randomly

assign interstitial mechanical space or other “dead” space to absorb differences and

standardize floor-to-floor heights; cluster rooms of similar size regardless of spatial

sequence; or base the heights of rooms on ease of stacking rather than on architec-

tural and experiential quality.

Final product

The final presentation sequence should stand alone as a design performance. None-

theless, feel free to clarify or further articulate it using additional plans, sections,

perspective, axonometric or other sketches or diagrams.

Media

Maintaining accurate scale and dimensions throughout this play is essential. Drawing

freehand to scale on tracing paper, vellum or other note-book-sized sheets allows

easy tracing of each preceding stage and is the quickest way to produce a section

transformation series.

Using a simple 2D drafting program is another alternative: To maintain image scale

and registration, first draw the base form on a background layer. Place each subse-

quent move on a new layer (or, in some design software, on a new “story”).

100 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

STRATEGIES

Directional sequence of moves

We recommend building progressively upward and rearward from the small initial space,

particularly the first time through this play.

Driving play with natural light

In designing between two extended blind walls, there is inherent tension between

the impulse to maximize the availability of useful activity space and surfaces and the

desire to reserve designated floor, wall and ceiling areas for components of a natural

lighting system. Successful play often requires a broad and innovative repertoire of

strategies for introducing natural light of varied character throughout the deep and

narrow building volume.

Balancing acts

Assembling rooms of varied shapes, sizes and purposes in 3D requires balanced equi-

librium between dominant, normal and servant space. Coherent overall architectural

order and structure must harmonize with the need for specific dimensions, proportions

and qualities of natural lighting for individual spaces. In dialogue between form and

requirements, dominant space often serves as an organizational focal point.

Higher and lower spaces

Changes in floor levels and ceiling heights often signal hierarchical differences

between spaces. In general:

• High-ceilinged habitable spaces are more important than low-ceilinged habit-

able spaces.

• Spaces on upper floors accommodate uses that are more private than those on

lower levels.

• Similarly, within space that has an internal level change, the raised area is more

private − in terms of restricted access − than the lower level. A three- or four-step

level change is sufficient to distinguish such spaces.

When unsure of what precise dimension to use, explore experiential character in quick

diagrammatic sections, raising or lowering selected planes in 2' (60cm) increments.

Zones of transition and the form of the building exterior

Row houses are typically bounded by blind walls on two sides and ground below. The

remaining three sides − the front and rear façades and roof − develop zones of tran-

sition between the building and surrounding open space. Build upon the skills and

repertoire of moves previously developed in Plays 1 and 2 to articulate the zones of

transition and the exterior building form in those three areas.

In-Depth Considerations

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 101

Sketches and notes

Because section drawings are so very information-rich, working out the sequence of

moves will initially require supplemental notes, partial sketch plans, elevations, façades,

cross-sections, axonometric and perspective sketches and/or models. When drawing in

a sketchbook, it is easiest to create supplemental notes and sketches in the margins as

you design, providing one comprehensive page per move. However, producing sketches

and notes in a separate notebook, on loose leafs of paper, on separate “process” layers

in digital drawings or even in series of annotated sketch models will also work.

BEAR IN MIND

Section as a tool for thinking and designing

Construction documents are intended to systematically record comprehensive techni-

cal and legal construction information. By contrast, early schematic drawings, sketches

and models serve a very different purpose: In setting down a design-driven impression

of the whole, they offer an opportunity for hands-on spatial cognition that helps to clarify

ongoing design directions.

One key to successful early schematic design is finding methods of quickly and effort-

lessly externalizing internal dialogue with form. Freehand sketching of plans, sections,

details or elevations can be a particularly powerful representational tool. Gestural impre-

cision is no limitation − as long as you bear accurate dimensions in mind. In focusing on

section as a design tool, try to limit the use of quick sketches in plan, perspective or other

projections as much as possible.

Visualizing space in 3D

With every move in Play 3, take the time to step back and mentally visualize the emerging

form. Envision its procession of spaces, proportions, character of light and space. Adjust

as necessary prior to proceeding to the next move. Repeatedly visualizing design − both

in your mind’s eye and in evocative sketch representation − renders the ability to create

quick secondary sketches to explain and clarify design second nature.

Designing open-ended space with a great deal of architectural specificity

and character

Animals tend to possess innate ability to assess the intrinsic qualities, capacities and

appropriateness of spaces and to settle into them accordingly. Human beings are no

exception. For millennia, dominant, served and servant spaces have been created,

used and implicitly understood by cultures throughout the world. Not surprisingly, when

contemporary end-users are given the opportunity to participate in decision-making

about how to use space − whether for a dwelling, a production space or a schoolroom −

they quickly, straightforwardly, expertly and ingeniously make decisions about what goes

where; distribute activities − often in unexpected ways; and inhabit space. Subsequently,

they continue to refine their space and how they use it.

102 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

During the last century, as architects have increasingly assumed the design of large

segments of the everyday built environment on behalf of institutional and corporate

clients, they have gradually abandoned precedent in favor of top-down design based

on detailed preprogramming. Such quantitative programs base design on stereotypical

average functional needs, sizes and activities for each process and individual function.

Clearly the design, use and subsequent evolution of typological buildings with places

that invite particular inhabitation and accommodate associated activities is profoundly

different from the preemptive assignment of space to specific quantified functions,

within a building shaped to embody a flow and adjacency diagram.

In thematic environments, the characteristics of a given space will often make it an

obvious and ideal location for a specific activity. However, as observation of real world

human inhabitation endlessly confirms, the range of cultural and individual prefer-

ences for using space remains extraordinarily broad and dynamic. For instance, even

the most fundamental activities such as cooking, dining and sleeping can and do in

different times, places and cultural settings occur equally well in any of the three basic

categories of space.

Mediating sun, rain and other geoclimatic conditions

Ceiling openings that bathe interior space in natural light and ventilation generally

require secondary structures to mediate harsh direct sunlight and weather.

Having situated your building with respect to general compass orientation, geographi-

cal location and climate, explore specific ways in which those factors impact building

form. For example: In temperate climates, strategically located direct sunlight is often

highly desirable. In warmer tropical or desert climates, it is to be avoided: Indirect or

filtered light becomes the rule.

This play focuses specifically on the initial introduction of natural light. Nonetheless, it

is worth observing that in colder climates, creating small open air courtyards and light

wells triggers secondary design of water collection and drainage systems and of fully

water-protected and insulated perimeter walls. Roofing over atrium space can generate

other secondary detailing and maintenance issues.

Consider:

• how size, location and formal articulation contribute to each dominant space.

• the design and articulation of skylights, monitors and clerestory windows that intro-

duce light from above and how the wall section and material affect the quality and

spread of light.

• the differing spatial qualities that result from naturally illuminating dominant spaces

with atrium daylighting from directly above, high clerestory light and side lighting

from windows or adjacent spaces.

SAMPLE PLAY 3.1 − FOLLOWING LIGHT 103

When freehand sketches are digitally redrawn for publication, the depiction may lose

spontaneity, subtly rendered shading, handwritten notes and additional detail sketches.

Christina Gryboyianni’s original freehand sketches for the first and final moves show

the richness of the designer’s informal transformation sequence presentation. Draw-

ings for Thematic Design Course at MIT © 1985 by Christina Gryboyianni, courtesy

of the architect

Sample Play 3.1

Designing in longitudinal section

or Following Light

'''TRODlJeTlotJ Of'OO~

P:)~ U6>iT- AlIl/

STAGE. 17.

dz, ,

TIlU.NIoFc:lUU.T1Qt1 'A"',lUllA....S,1Ofol oc:=

112 .2.

b c

iUAr.N~Tll>UTf"f

OZ:"'fJJf~ a;.T"'~

~ItATiOoI

. 1.........

STAGE 2. .

'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ

'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ'''TRODlJeTlotJ

STAGE.

STAGE.STAGE.STAGE.

STAGESTAGE

STAGE STAGE

112112 .2. 112 .2. 112 .2.

112 .2. 112 .2. 112 .2.

dz, ,

dz, ,dz, ,

dz, ,

dz, ,dz, ,

104 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

In this transformation sequence, a building

volume grows by step-wise accretion, driven by

the search for natural light. Arrows foreshadow

where each subsequent addition will occur.

Stars indicate a sectional change to allow light

to penetrate the form. Copyrighted drawings by

N. John Habraken adapted from original trans-

formation exercise by Christina Gryboyianni.

Sample Play 3.1

Designing in longitudinal section

or Following Light

M1 A portico to the right

M6 A floor slab opening allows light to

penetrate down to the ground floor.

M11 The terrace is covered by a pergola.

A level change on the ground floor is

created.

M2 A portico to the left

M7 The bay to the right is expanded.

M12 A basement is excavated.

BASE FORM A simple room

SAMPLE PLAY 3.1 − FOLLOWING LIGHT 105

M3 A second story with a terrace

M8 The roof is lifted to create double-story

space with clerestory lighting.

M13 An exterior basement stair is added.

M4 The terrace is roofed over. The corridor

is dark.

M9 A level change on the second story

M14 The floor slab is cut to allow light to filter

down to the basement.

M5 A skylight is opened to illuminate the

second story corridor.

M10 An extension to the right creates another

terrace.

M15 Final configuration

106 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

The search for natural light drives form development in this sample play. The designer

has taken on a considerable challenge: Instead of introducing courtyards or light wells,

she maintains a large and unbroken volume while ensuring that daylight enters most

of the enclosed spaces. Many moves are paired: When one move temporarily compro-

mises natural light, the subsequent move adjusts the form to restore it. This strategy

gives the overall design performance unique logic, energy and rhythm.

Dominant spaces tend to be large, as a rule. Here, however, the designer’s decision

to grow the form by aggregating room-sized spaces and parts of spaces establishes

a fairly constant range of room sizes throughout served spaces. The one obviously

dominant space maintains relatively modest dimensions. Nonetheless, its combina-

tion of central location and unique features − steps leading down into the room, a

slightly raised ceiling and columns at the periphery − signals the core importance of

the space, while further highlighting the modesty of the basic spatial module and its

traces within larger spaces. (See, for instance, the dominant space on the second level

in M8 and M9.) The room-sized module that sets the scale and character of the whole

hints at a primary building system with limited spanning capacity. The limited span

appears to accommodate the length or width of a modest room plus a narrow corridor

or support space.

Both the module and the scale reflect deliberate choices made by this particular

designer: They are not inherent in the play. They also do not prevent the designer

from occasionally giving relatively narrow spaces extra height or stretching them

horizontally.

Large non-thematic projects often rely on the same local systems, talent and materials

used to create everyday thematic construction. In such cases, there is nothing unusual

about building large or even monumental buildings using a modest bay size range that

coincides with everyday served space.

It should be noted that the transition from public to private space is ambiguous. The

portico created on the left-hand side (M2) seems to lead to exterior public space and

its creation presumably shifts the territorial boundary. However, no marker indicates

the transition from public to private.

A final word of caution about finding an appropriate level of development:

This sample play resulted from exceptionally rich, consistent, meaningful, sustained

and obsessive design activity: It painstakingly presented 18 moves together with copi-

ous details and notes. That sheer extent of focused effort produced extraordinary

results … but it is hardly recommended as a standard for all players. Play until you

reach a good stopping point: There is no final design product in thematic design: There

is always something further to explore …

SPECIAL TOPICS 107

In 1959, Frank Lloyd Wright dramatically broke the steady typological rhythm of

façades, entry canopies and window and belt courses (stringcourses, band courses)

along Manhattan’s dense and elegant residential 5th Avenue apartment build-

ing neighborhood to insert his celebrated Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. Two

decades later, Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers together with Gianfranco Franchini

would insert their own starkly different, bold and highly idiosyncratic Centre Georges

Pompidou (1977) into the strongly coherent ancient fabric of the Beaubourg neigh-

borhood in Paris.

In these and countless other scenarios, designers have inserted unique highly sculp-

tural non-thematic sculptural form against a strongly thematic backdrop within a pre-

existing environmental context defined by variants of a prevailing building type. The

strong coherence of the surrounding field coupled with the singular nature of their

freestanding intervention offered each of architect a perfect opportunity to reinvent

the look, feel, flow, dimensions, systems and spatial organization of one solitary sculp-

tural form. Both the Guggenheim and Pompidou museums were highly controversial

when they first appeared. In both cases, the public eventually embraced them.

In the 21st century, the setting and the design challenge have changed: Unselfcon-

sciously coherent and fine-grained urban environment historically incorporated shared

values, building fabrics, local building cultures, systems and preferences. Over time,

that coherent built environment has eroded, making way for building that is organized

and executed at a very different scale, with markedly different styles, ways of building

and preconceptions. Three-quarters of a century after post-World War II reconstruc-

tion, pre-war typological building is no longer the default mode or armature of everyday

environment. Coherent urban fabric is unlikely to result from any process in which

countless designers − no matter how talented − set about independently reinventing

urban form and its uses.

Special Topic

Balancing invention and continuity

108 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

Row house design differs from the design of unique specialized use non-thematic

buildings because its setting inherently demands balance between reinvention and

thematic continuity. Among the questions that it poses are the following: To what

extent and under what conditions should row house design:

• express form within the common typological framework, incorporating elements and

characteristics visible in surrounding row houses?

• reinforce coherence in the public realm, particularly with respect to massing and

façades that are very visible to the public?

• follow personal formal and stylistic preferences and interests, versus well-established

typological precedent?

In that context, it should be noted that in very different ways and at vastly differing

scales, the celebrated housing examples that immediately follow have chosen to

fundamentally reinvent the long, narrow housing unit between two walls. Tadao Ando,

Atelier 5 and Le Corbusier each ingeniously solve a very different problem.

SPECIAL TOPICS 109

Tadao Ando’s early Azuma House is minimalist and austere. This small two-story

three-part structure set on a 10' (3.0m) wide lot epitomizes the use of an open central

courtyard to introduce direct and indirect daylight and ventilation into the core of what

would normally be the dark center of a row house. The exterior stair and elevated walk-

way in the central courtyard link all spaces of the front and rear pavilions.

Special Topic

Row house design in longitudinal section

Azuma House, Osaka (1976) Tadao Ando, Architect

3.6 Axonometric, longitudinal section and floor plans

Drawings © 2013 Andrés Mignucci, based on drawing

by the architect

110 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

By definition, row houses exist in aggregate series in which topography is often a primary

determinant of the building section.

Here, the natural slope of the site sets up series of stepped south-facing terraces that

create unit entries at multiple levels. The longitudinal section of each long and slender

grouping of three-story residential buildings is further shaped by key strategies regard-

ing organizing access to and throughout the units; bringing in abundant natural light and

ventilation; and ensuring privacy within high-density suburban environment. The basic

section is arrayed across the site with occasional minor offsets or local adjustments.

Green roofs follow the natural slope and echo the broader landscape as they step down

the hillside, opening balconies, trellises, terraces and small walled gardens to the south.

Special Topic

Row house design in longitudinal section

Siedlung Halen, Bern, Switzerland (1961) Atelier 5, Architects

All drawings © Atelier 5, courtesy of the architect

3.8 Site plan3.7 Aerial photo © 2005 Croci & Du Fresne, courtesy

of the architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 111

3.11 Model Unit Type 12 is 16'-5" (5m) wide × 45'-11"

(14m) deep and uses a longitudinal internal stair.

3.9 Section

3.10 Model Unit Type 380 is 13'-1" (4m) wide × 45'-11"

(14m) deep with a transverse internal stair.

112 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

Le Corbusier’s Unité d’Habitation has an overall cross-section of about 80' (24m). As

a result of the complementary shapes of each combined pair of stacked units, they

form a three-story module which interlocks around the central spine of the corridor.

The dwellings extend between blind party walls spaced 12' (3.7m) apart.

The architect appropriates a signature move that had become a mainstay of early

20th-century artists’ housing: Every unit features a dominant 16' (4.8m) double-height

living space whose full-height glazing opens visually to the outdoors and introduces

natural light deep into the space. Instead of utilizing traditional double-loaded corri-

dors, units are accessed via corridors that traverse the dark core at the center of each

3-story module. Upon entering the dwelling, one is naturally drawn forward toward the

expansive openness and light of the 2-story living space. Servant spaces are placed

along the dark corridors.

Special Topic

Row house design in longitudinal section

Unité d’Habitation, Marseille (1952) Le Corbusier, Architect

3.12 Interlocking section. Drawing © 2013 Andrés

Mignucci, based on drawing by the architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 113

Previously, we introduced bringing light into the row house and the related uses of the

longitudinal section in a preliminary, exploratory and general way.

In addition to light’s fundamental functional necessity and contribution to the look and

feel of space, it serves to reinforce the character of form, whether strongly directional

or static and inwardly focused. Refining the shape, intensity, directionality and other

qualities of light is achieved through study in section and three-dimensional modeling.

To be understood, light catching roof configurations and other forms require study and

design in both longitudinal and cross-section. The uses of those sections is somewhat

different:

Light studies in cross-section explore qualities of light at a particular moment and

place within the form. Longitudinal sections such as those at the core of Chapter 3

provide an overview of the light catching strategies and their function, how they help to

unify and organize the experience of the larger form and reinforce its patterns, rhythms

and uses.

In particular, light reinforces the directional character of space. Humans, like count-

less other living beings, are heliotropic: They naturally turn toward and follow light.

Light, once captured, mediated and directed through the form and onto its surfaces,

therefore serves as a primary device for leading or drawing people from place to place,

reinforcing rhythms and also helping to signal and build important form events, as

when form branches, begins to build a secondary direction or shifts direction entirely.

Special Topic

Using light as a principal organizer

of directional form

In the Kimbell Museum, continuous light monitors run the

length of each concrete roof shell. While the curved ceiling

is bathed in continuous reflected light, the punctuated

rhythm of the suspended reflectors reinforces the linearity

and primary direction of the galleries. Throughout the

project, Louis Kahn designs natural and artificial light

between the structurally independent spanning shells and

sidewalls in a variety of ways. The architect builds an arch

of directional light at the end of each bay to draw visitors

through the linear gallery.

3.13 North galleries. Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth,

Texas (1972). Louis I. Kahn, Architect. Photo by

Robert LaPrelle © 2014 Kimbell Art Museum,

courtesy of the Kimbell

114 DESIGNING IN LONGITUDINAL SECTION

Having explored row houses and their design in cross-section, it is useful to cycle back

and reexamine a familiar local row house type. Wherever possible, use measuring

tapes and lasers, basic body dimensions such as your height and the length of your

stride and arm-span and other approximation techniques such as counting bricks and

ceiling tiles and guesstimating the dimensions of receding objects in perspective to

measure the buildings and spaces you observe.

Survey a number of typologically related examples. Augment direct observation of

building exteriors by entering the buildings, directly observing interiors and consulting

available documentation, where possible.

Vertical circulation

Is the vertical circulation toward the front, center or rear? Do the stairs run parallel or

perpendicular to the blind walls or do they wind upward? Do they play a significant role

in creating, articulating and reinforcing spatial character? Do they serve as major spatial

forms or sculptural elements or are they fundamentally utilitarian? If multiple ways up

and down are provided, what distinguishes their use?

Natural light

What is the overall character and pattern of interior day lighting? How does it vary in

different zones of the house and with respect to solar orientation? How is light intro-

duced to the dark center of the building?

Recurring patterns

Look for typical ways in which similar buildings address recurring conditions. Do row

houses with similar bay widths show similar strategies regarding circulation patterns, how

and where natural light is introduced and the layout of spaces and corresponding uses?

Structured Observation

Analyzing row houses

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 115

No building or type is perfect

Try to identify the merits and constraints, the trade-offs and potential or missed

opportunities embodied in the specific row houses you are observing. Above all,

what characteristics do various instances of the type share in common? What building

features are unique?

Dimensions

Successful building types accommodate wide ranges of use by combining appropri-

ate dimensioning with time-tested internal organization and strategic juxtaposition of

spatial and architectural characteristics. There are vast differences of potential use

between a row house that is 17' (5.2m) wide and one that is 22' (6.7m) wide, just as

there are vast architectural and use differences associated with a 3' (1m) wide stair vs.

a 4' or 6' (1.2m or 1.8m) stair; a room that is 11' vs. 14' (3.4m vs. 4.3m) wide; or a ceiling

height of 12' versus 15' (3.7m vs. 4.6m).

Documentation

As always, gather your observations into notebook or other useful format. Try to coor-

dinate and structure your observation in advance to create opportunities for sharing

and building larger libraries of typological knowledge.

116

Lovell Beach House. Newport Beach, California (1926). R. M. Schindler, Architect

4.1 Section drawing. Library of Congress, Prints

& Photographs Division, HABS, Reproduction

number HABS CAL, 30-NEWBE, 1−10

4.2 Exterior view. Photo Library of Congress, Prints &

Photographs Division, HABS, Reproduction number

HABS CAL, 30-NEWBE, 1−1

117

Shape a building in which each successive cross-section

transforms the previous one.

Shape space

through stepwise series

of variations

that evolve out of an initial section.

You need not

know your design destination.

Observe how a succession of

very different spaces

is produced.

Just keep the transitions and

progression of spaces in mind:

The whole will remain coherent.

4 Designing in Cross-Section

118 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

4.3 Exterior view during early construction. Lovell

Beach House, Newport Beach, California (1926)

R. M. Schindler, Architect. Reprinted with permission of

the Architecture and Design Collection, Art, Design &

Architecture Museum, University of California, Santa

Barbara. © UC Regents

A linear progression of five massive sitecast

concrete frames establishes the building’s

structure, rhythm, surface texture and views, while

also setting up for its cantilevered interior and

exterior balconies and sleeping porches.

North- and south-facing cross-sections cut at

the midpoint of each bay would reveal eight

very different section elevations and spatial

experiences. The basic spatial volumes are

relatively simple with many recurring elements.

Repetitive glazing patterns, details, finishes and

repeated reference to certain dimensions −

notably key regulating dimensions and proportions

associated with the 12' (3.65m) centerline

dimension of the structural frames − build

continuity across physically diverse spaces.

To delineate, articulate and differentiate spaces,

Schindler adds visual screens, fixed and movable

glazed panels, doorways, slender and thick walls

and overhangs. He freely places them beyond,

between or across the face of the concrete frames.

Railings, level changes, built-in closets, cabinetry

and seating all serve as room dividers.

INTRODUCTION 119

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Chapter 4 explores cross-section (transverse section), a powerful − and frequently

under-utilized − design tool. As in Chapter 3, play once more centers around envision-

ing an entire building, both inside and outside, primarily in section.

In Play 3, final form grew incrementally as a result of adding series of room-sized

configurations in longitudinal section. The goal of Plays 4a and 4b is to design a build-

ing by connecting a sequence of cross-sectional transformations. Each cross-section

is first envisioned in the mind’s eye. It may expand, contract or otherwise reconfigure

the previous building envelope and interior as a transformation of the base form or

previous section. Players incrementally build up a sequence of design cross-sections.

By assembling a series of “snapshots,” they develop a relatively complete transfor-

mation series of building sections and construct a mental schema of the form in its

entirety. Each section is then individually extruded to form 3D space and assembled in

a sequence to create a coherent and evocative building.

The plays in this chapter also build toward constructing and refining a mental 3D model

of the building in its entirety − including the varying qualities of light throughout domi-

nant and served spaces − prior to drawing. For many designers that full visualization

may initially pose a significant challenge. This performance also sharpens a designer’s

ability to generate quick, accurate and evocative drawings from any point of view.

The design plays in this chapter reference no particular building type. They build

thematic clarity by consistently positioning unspecified material parts in relation

to specified zones and margins. The thematic design challenge is to construct the

progression of building sections, spaces and elements such that the core design

concept is clear, coherent and transferable: Another designer should be able to leap

in at any point, implicitly understand the design in a hands-on way well enough to take

over design and lead it in a similar direction.

4.4 Contemporary Amish barn raising. Pennsylvania,

USA. Many different traditions of timber frame barn

construction were similarly based on assembling

individual frames flat on the ground. The completed

frames were then hoisted into place one by one and

braced to create a standing structure. Each section

might vary slightly to accommodate a double-height

space or suspended loft.

In the early 20th century industrialized prefabrication

− and in particular the introduction of loftless

pre-engineered metal barns − heralded the collapse

of traditional regional barn building in North America,

together with associated ways of life. Timber barn

building now persists only in rare isolated pockets

and often as a hybrid of new and traditional systems.

Thus, in the photo, traditional pegged timber frames

are mounted onto plywood decks supported by

concrete block rather than stone construction. Photo

by Bill Coleman © NoToCo, LLC 2013, courtesy of

AmishPhoto.com

Introduction

120 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

The use of building planning tools

Zones, margins and grids aid design by ordering the placement of multiple activities

and physical systems while simultaneously mediating, organizing and systematizing

the relationships between them in three-dimensional space. Careful planning and

dimensional coordination allows each architectural element or system to be arrayed

in accordance with its own logical and spatial rhythm while inherently relating to the

overall plan.

Historically, spacious margins and their capacity to accommodate multiple activities and

servant functions on the periphery of a given zone have played a key role in both thematic

and non-thematic design, offering rich and ambiguous overlap and multiple readings of

architectural space. For instance, in the margins of German Baroque cathedrals, highly

developed interstitial space with a complex reading commonly straddles the nave and

the aisle, simultaneously inside and outside dominant space. In subsequent eras, those

margins have provided slack space for growth, change and the introduction of multiple

technical systems, in ways unimagined by their medieval builders.

Contemporary architecture, by contrast, frequently minimizes the physical dimensions

− and the design possibilities − of margins and grids. Reduced to column grid lines,

they optimize the use of structural elements and align the structural field to standard-

ize all structural details and transfer loads within the least possible space, but do not

otherwise contribute to architectural expression.

Carefully established zones, grids, dimensional systems and positioning tools distribute

spaces and structural and other physical elements flexibly, yet coherently and consis-

tently. They generate dimensional order and repetitive rhythms that render overall

building organization comprehensible. Together, they serve as an armature for design,

strongly guiding design direction. At the same time, they define where and how multiple

players can simultaneously and freely design, build, inhabit and use space with a mini-

mum of conflict, interference or disturbance while contributing to the larger design.

Grids, zones and margins

Building planning grids are principal planning tools in

the development of every architectural project. Grids

are (generally) rectilinear frameworks of horizontal and

vertical organizational lines. Grid lines position bearing

walls and columns to ensure continuity and alignment

of building elements.

The spaces between grid lines define zones: dedicated

plan areas for positioning individual served spaces,

together with related parts and configurations. They are

ideally sized to accommodate a wide range of uses.

Thematic and vernacular built environments tend to

self-organize with more built-in latitude and less geo-

metrical and dimensional rigidity than strict grids allow.

Tartan grids were therefore developed in the Nether-

lands by the “SAR” (Stichting Architecten Research /

Foundation for Architects’ Research) in the second half

of the 20th century as a way to carefully coordinate

building spaces and structure while restoring a measure

of lateral freedom and variety in positioning columns,

walls and spatial boundaries. In essence, these more

complex building planning frameworks widen organi-

zational grid lines to create narrower interstitial areas

between zones, or margins.

Margin space serves a number of essential building

planning roles:

• offering essential multi-purpose or “swing” space for

activities that may be annexed and incorporated into

adjacent served spaces to expand them;

• functioning as independent adjacent space for vari-

ous uses;

• providing open-ended space for placing the bearing

walls, columns and piers that define rooms and other

dedicated use areas; and

• providing space for circulation, building systems,

servant spaces and smaller uses.

By weaving together two-way longitudinal and trans-

verse arrays of alternating zones and margins set at

right angles, tartan grids replace the lines and cross-

ing points of traditional planning grids with broader and

more flexible zones and establish parameters for the

width and length of served and servant space.

PLAY 4A − THE LONG HOUSE 121

The ultimate goal of play is to design the form entirely in your mind’s eye before draw-

ing the individual sections and corresponding plan.

Visualizing 3D space in the mind’s eye, like translating 2D information into three

dimensions, is an acquired skill. Players predictably arrive at this play with vastly differ-

ent abilities to visualize in the absence of accompanying sketches or models. The

first time through Play 4a, following the Initial Rules of Play, this is absolutely no prob-

lem. With each subsequent performance, try moving through the progressive series

of Additional Rules for Advanced Play in the section that immediately follows, pushing

the limit and going as far as you can before beginning to draw.

To assist in the process the first time through, we recommend starting by visualizing a

series of identical base forms that are set apart at varying distances that correspond

roughly to one or more room lengths. Next, begin to systematically envision the space

between each pair of base forms, defining the rooms, spaces and elements of hori-

zontal and vertical circulation that link them. Remembering Play 1, start to inhabit the

zones of transition along the length and width of the building. Recalling Play 2, feel

free to make smaller-scale local adjustments to the overall form and to articulate the

exterior building surface with architectural elements, projections and spaces …

Play 4a

Designing in Cross-Section

or

The Long House

12'

3.60m

8'

2.40m

12'

3.60m

32

9.60m

E<0 0co

..f

E. ~ ~

0>

E<0 0co

..f

12'

3.60m

8'

2.40m

12'

3.60m

E<0 0co

..f<0

122 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

INITIAL RULES OF PLAY

Base form

The base form features a 32' (9.60m) wide central space with a high ceiling sheltered

by a roof truss of unspecified construction. Within that space, freestanding columns

support an intermediate level. On either side of the roofed structure, pre-established

bays/zones guide potential expansion of the section.

Spacing of base forms

Throughout this play, habitable rooms are assumed to extend at least 8' (2.40m)

between wall centerlines. That dimension therefore defines the minimal spatial

module: Base forms must be spaced a minimum of one module apart.

Specify building orientation

Visualize the difference in character, extent and location of available sunlight and how

it may affect design along each side of the building.

Specify materials and construction

Selecting systems and materials for the roof structure, ceiling/floor assemblies,

walls and columns is essential for this design performance. Players may initially

define all parts and systems in advance or play hands-on and let the design suggest

appropriate systems.

Follow the zones and margins

Load-bearing structure, partition walls, territorial divisions and areas of dedicated circu-

lation cut by each section should fall within the 8' (2.40m) margins. The 12' (3.60m)

zones are reserved for served activity space. Section cuts should depict the quality of

served spaces. (As always, avoid cutting through walls that run parallel to the direction

of the cut.)

Set the width of rooms and spaces

Any space can simply align with the perimeter of its zone. However, space may other-

wise expand to incorporate all or part of an abutting margin on one or both sides. Or it

may be interrupted, curtailed such that it only partially fills a zone.

Shift structural elements to fine-tune space and dimensions

There are no precise preset column or beam lines. Columns and other load-bearing

parts can shift a bit within the margins to vary the widths of individual spaces. Partic-

ularly as you begin, let architectural experience drive their placement. (Feel free to

assume that cantilevers, bent or transfer beams, haunches and other offset structural

supports and some regularization of dimensions would rationalize the structure during

a subsequent design phase.)

PLAY 4A − THE LONG HOUSE 123

Vary spaces within the dominant central bay

While the middle zone implies dominant and possibly continuous space, nothing in the

rules limits its potential for play and variation. As each section evolves, so may middle

zone spaces and spatial relationships.

5 sections

In initial play, limit the number of sections to five.

Create a coherent building

The sections and the spaces they represent should add up to a coherent whole.

Think form

Throughout the play, try to create and articulate the building and its various spaces

primarily in your mind’s eye.

Final product

The final presentation should demonstrate that you have worked through a coher-

ent 3D design in some detail. Feel free to add exterior axonometric or perspective

sketches or other explanatory details and written comments to the sections and plan.

Media

Freehand drawing, 2D rendering programs and 3D digital and physical modeling can

all play a useful role. However, in this play, beyond a certain point, developing a detailed

3D digital model for purposes beyond axonometric exterior projection can easily run

counter to the purpose.

Design in the mind’s eye

Brunelleschi is said to have designed while pacing back

and forth along a narrow corridor, visualizing form. Louis

Sullivan would instead walk the streets of Chicago, let-

ting the design of a new building emerge in his imagina-

tion. He would then return to his office, sit down at the

drafting board and draw the building he had developed

in his mind’s eye.

A variation on that story surrounds the design of Frank

Lloyd Wright’s E. J. Kaufmann Residence: Three months

after the completion of a painstaking initial survey of the

proposed western Pennsylvania site, Taliesin appren-

tices witnessed not one outward indication that Wright

had begun to design.

The client then surprised Wright with a phone call, an-

nouncing that he was en route, 140 miles (225 km) away.

Over the next three hours, the 68-year-old Wright pro-

duced one detailed plan after another, then a building

section followed by a large-scale rendered elevation

of Fallingwater. It was evident from the drawings that

Wright had visualized in his mind’s eye not just his own

fully developed design, but also the precise location of

every tree and boulder. By the time the client arrived, the

architect was ready and waiting …

4.5 Fallingwater. Mill Run, Pennsylvania (1935).

Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. Photo by Jack

E. Boucher. Library of Congress, Prints &

Photographs Division, HABS, Reproduction

number HABS PA,26-OHPY.V,1— 86 (CT)

124 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

ADDITIONAL RULES FOR ADVANCED PLAY

Transition to advanced play

To begin, modify the base section to design four new cross-sections with different

spatial and habitable qualities. Consider multiple-height spaces to extend the design

hierarchy and varieties of spatial experience. Subsequently, link the sections sequen-

tially and design the interstitial space.

Begin restricting sketch activity

Beginning with the base form, build up sectional changes sequentially, this time in your

mind’s eye. Try to first envision each different section and its spaces hands-off. Then

try to limit your concurrent renderings or sketches to 2D projections that directly add

to basic understanding of form that you have first envisioned, rather than letting your

design hand take the lead.

Further exercise your mind’s eye

As your ability and confidence increase, try to develop each successive section without

concurrently creating or referring to a building plan. Once you have mentally envisioned

the whole form in detail, document the entire sequence of sections immediately.

Add one or more floor plans … eventually

Each time you reach the limit of your understanding of the form, stop and develop or

extend the plan. Insert section cut symbols and observe how accurately they align with

your sections as visualized. From that point on, freely refer to building plans. As you

continue to design, develop plan and section in tandem. Evolution of form in plan −

together with sketch details as needed − will fill in your understanding of the progres-

sion and relationship of ideas and spaces, promote dimensional and proportional unity

in the third dimension and open up additional possibilities.

Most advanced play

In the most advanced version of Play 4a, drawing of any kind is deferred until the

creation of final presentation drawings, once the entire design has been completed

in your mind’s eye. The completed design should then be documented as a proof of

concept in longitudinal section as well as cross-sections and one or more plans.

A coherent form narrative

The goal of this play is to develop a progression of moves that makes sense, rather

than cataloging an extensive series of disparate spatial possibilities suggested by the

base form.

6−10 sections

Feel free to continue the series beyond 5 sections until you have adequately explored

variations. Although 6−10 sections is generally sufficient, there is no maximum as

long as your variations remain meaningful.

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 125

STRATEGIES

Determine the structural system

Visualize and materialize the base form. Use that initial section to determine in prin-

ciple where and how columns, piers, load-bearing walls and horizontal members will

carry and transfer loads. Possible structural systems include steel or timber bents,

masonry walls paired with horizontal wooden beams, reinforced concrete supporting

steel trusses or steel beams bearing upon steel or reinforced concrete piers.

Explore how design with zones and margins opens up served and

servant space

While column lines and margins both determine the placement of building structure, their

intended purpose and use are entirely different. Column lines locate structure at exact

crossing points and alignments for the purpose of standardizing, rationalizing and mini-

mizing structure and unassigned space and simplifying engineering and construction.

Margins articulate design by providing a degree of freedom in positioning columns, piers,

walls and other load-bearing structure within margins. As a result, larger spaces can

span a variety of widths, while the smallest spaces may actually be placed wholly outside

any zone within a margin.

Consider how positioning rules anticipate the architectural expression

of structure

Precisely where columns are positioned within margins will start to suggest how struc-

tural connections are made above. For instance: Their placement may indicate whether

beams bear directly onto columns, directly attach to continuous multistory columns from

the side or use transfer beams to shift loads horizontally onto bearing structure. Posi-

tioning rules also begin to suggest the architectural expression of the bearing structure:

whether it is buried within walls, visibly engaged in walls, uniformly offset from adjacent

partition or curtain walls or entirely freestanding.

Establish continuities

Visualize the elements that build continuities between sequential cross-sections:

• corridors, stairs and other circulation elements

• vertical open spaces that build visual links between different floors

• walls and other structural elements

• ridge lines that build a relationship between one roof section to the next

These and other design elements similarly link together the building’s constituent

parts. They help to fill out your visualization and build a coherent whole.

In-Depth Considerations

126 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

Sketch the cross-sectional light

In Chapter 3, longitudinal building sections provided an overview of rhythms, patterns

and directions of light throughout the building and how they reinforce the overall

architecture, flow and rhythm and lead people through space. In the current chapter,

cross-sections serve to augment available information about the experiential char-

acter of individual daylit spaces at a variety of scales. They clarify:

• sun angles and corresponding character and levels of illumination throughout the year

• how deeply light will penetrate into any given room interior

• how light washes adjacent ceiling, floor and wall surfaces

• where possible lighting “hot spots” may occur and how to mitigate them

• the dance of light and shadow throughout various parts of room interiors over time

• how various light reflection and diffusion strategies and configurations change interior

lighting conditions

• how to use daylight to highlight key interior elements

• how and where to use artificial lighting to balance or supplement levels of natural

illumination

Even at the earliest stages of design, architectural cross-sections should be drawn with

building orientation and the intrinsic qualities of specific kinds of directional light clearly

in mind. For instance, in the temperate zone of the northern hemisphere, northerly

sky shine provides diffuse “painterly” blue-white light year round from floor to ceiling.

Yellow-red western sunlight is glaringly strong and highly directional when sun angles

are low and consequently often requires seasonal shading and solar gain mediation.

Once the basic design and sense of character are established, quickly rendered digital

sketch modeling with proper solar orientation becomes invaluable in pinpointing daily

and seasonal lighting conditions.

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 127

BEAR IN MIND

Let the architecture set ceiling heights

The height of each space should be determined not by zoning, but by preferred archi-

tectural character and ranges of likely use, together with any inherent constraints such

as proportions or material and geometrical limits of the section.

Build-in good proportions

In incorporating rooms with fractional module lengths, try to build-in key dimensions

and proportions that are consonant with the basic dimensions of the module, zone

width, ceiling height and surrounding spaces.

Aim for quality, not quantity

Try to design spaces and structures coherently and interestingly using a restrained

design palette of details and structural elements.

Design all spaces as figural and spatial entities

All visible and habitable space, regardless of its use, possesses a wide range of common

formal and experiential attributes: It possesses size, shape, proportion, hierarchy, direc-

tion and architectural character. And it offers unique experiential qualities defined by its

place within the flow and spatial sequence of the building, and its combined qualities

of continuity and containment, light, views and ventilation. All habitable space, includ-

ing circulation, residual “left-over” space and other open space throughout the building

therefore requires active and intentional form making.

128 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

Sample plays 4.1 and 4.2 present alternate compositions based

on a design play that was formulated roughly as follows: “Design

a complex structure by adding variations in section as you move

from one end of the building to the other.” In both cases, initial

design occurred entirely in section. Plan and axonometric views

were generated after the fact as a proof of concept.

Both sample plays offer variations on a venerable theme: tripar-

tite form in which both served and servant spaces flank linear

and continuous central dominant space. In both sequences,

each successive section similarly modifies the spatial charac-

ter of the building by adding, removing or displacing internal

elements; manipulating the roof form throughout; and/or freely

extending outward on either side of the central bay.

Both schemes incorporate the same tripartite structure of 33'

(10m) zones. The outer zones flanking the dominant central bay

are themselves further subdivided: Within their 33' (10m) width,

two sub-zones of just over 13' (4m) surround an internal margin

of about 6'-6" (2m).

Spatial transformation is partially constrained in both schemes

in ways that promote fundamental order throughout the form

while allowing significant spatial change to occur: In general, the

continuous central space limits sideways expansion. It adjusts

freely in height and length but maintains the width of its defining

high roof throughout. By contrast, spaces within the outer zones

freely expand or contract in width and length. In the Grange, their

height is constrained by the geometry of the uniformly pitched

roof. In the Galleria, the height of secondary roof structures is

kept below the primary roof but their form, while tending to fall

within the established zones, appears otherwise unconstrained.

Sample Plays 4.1 and 4.2

“Long House” sectional

transformation sequence

Sample Play 4.1 “Grange” sectional transformation

OJ

h >"" ..;1

( ;

(~

b. ,, ~

'"(.

I

"~. t:

(""

d.

e

r

~.- - ~~. .

"

d d d d

d d d d d dd

d d

d

d

d

SAMPLE PLAYS 4.1 AND 4.2 − LONG HOUSE TRANSFORMATIONS 129

Both sequences exhibit development that is intuitive, logical and

based on clear spatial concepts. Nonetheless, form only reveals

so much about its underlying creative process: How were the

buildings conceived? What drove each design? Did any concep-

tual section served as a template? Does the progression of

sections as depicted follow the actual order of their development?

We cannot safely assume that either sequence of sections

first developed in the order presented. In the freeform Galleria,

it is hard to seize upon any single section in the mind’s eye of

the designer that drove the development of height and width

throughout all zones. In the Grange, the roof form seems to imply

that the conceptual full section D drove design, with all other

sections easily derived by subtraction. Nonetheless, play could

easily have started with section A. The final form might have

gradually revealed itself as design progressed with section D

already vaguely in the designer’s mind.

Out of the same combined tripartite organizational schema,

design methodology, dimensions, building zones and margins,

two radically different architectures easily emerge in these

sample plays.

Thematic design course drawings © 1985 John R. Dale,

courtesy of the designerSample Play 4.2 “Galleria” sectional transformation

(.

I' "'".J:

a

~. 2 . 50 11

;/';2 . 5111

h;2 . ~ 1I

:2 .1).

b

(I('

0, . '5>

If

c

h ' . ,. I v<

c

c

c

c c c

130 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

Special Topic

Sectional transformation in a single bay

Tischler House, Westwood, California (1950) R.M. Schindler, Architect

Rudoph Schindler’s Tischler House is experientially rich. Against a single bay that

is quite simple in plan, it juxtaposes a masterful sequence of sectional transforma-

tions. The large sheltering roof serves as a unifying element and provides continuity

from S1 through S9. As the ground form transforms to accommodate the changing

topography, volumes are suspended (S1, S3) and floors are added (S2), before finally

compacting into a simple volume in a state of repose (S9).

4.6 Exterior. Photo © 2003 Steven Ward, courtesy of

the photographer

4.7 Reference plan

SPECIAL TOPICS 131

4.8 Transverse section sequence Copyrighted drawings by Wendy Dailey, courtesy of the

Judith Sheine Collection

S2 S3

S4

S7

S5

S8

S6

S9

S1

132 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

For many centuries, particularly throughout Europe and its former colonies, thematic

and non-thematic architecture have called upon tripartite zoning’s powerful inherent

principles of spatial and zoning division. Tripartite zoning famously appears throughout

the 9th century Plan of St. Gall and in medieval buildings as diverse as Romanesque

churches and barns.

It remains in common use in a variety of building types − particularly throughout

contemporary Europe − and has contributed a widespread and enduring principle of

fundamental organization to monumental and everyday architecture alike.

In the historical examples shown, the width of the roof, its structural system and bays

jointly set possibilities for the design that follows.

Setting zone widths that closely coincide with roof and bay structure often continues

to provide a useful strategy.

Special Topic

Tripartite zoning

4.10 Detail of the Plan of St Gall. St. Gallen, Switzerland

(9th century). The layout of the partially realized

Carolingian cathedral and the many unbuilt

surrounding buildings are based on a tripartite

spatial division. Detail of the copyrighted photo of the

Löpfe-Benz facsimile (1952) from The Plan of St.

Gall in Brief, courtesy of the author.

4.9 Tithe Barn. Great Coxwell, England (late 13th

century). This sole surviving building of a medieval

grange features massive stone walls and a steeply

pitched slate roof. Photo © 1953 with permission of

Edwin Smith / RIBA Library Photographs Collection

SPECIAL TOPICS 133

The University of British Columbia’s Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver show-

cases an extraordinary collection of Northwest Coast First Nations art. Upon entering

the museum, visitors head downward through a sequence of regularly spaced precast

concrete post-and-beam frames surmounted by curved acrylic skylights. After pass-

ing through a series of low ceilinged interior exhibit galleries, they emerge once more

and pass into the light-filled rhythmic progression of concrete frames or gates of the

main exhibit hall.

The frames inspired by the post-and-beam gates of the indigenous Haida people grow

progressively taller and thinner in a rhythmic sequence. In the regular progression of

structural forms, each successive section transforms the previous one, gradually rais-

ing the ceiling to 49' (15m). The resulting form permits the building to shelter carved

totem poles up to 40' (12m) in height, while providing space for lighting and technical

systems and carrying the structure that supports the glazed roof. Structural glass walls

build corners of light and provide unbroken views outward onto the landscape. Alter-

nating bands of light and dark reinforce the primary direction of the built field as visitors

are led through the exhibition hall, drawn toward the powerful and unbroken landscape

carefully framed in perspective at the building’s end.

Special Topic

Structuring light to organize a built field

Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver (1976) Arthur Erickson, Architect

4.12 Exterior view showing the regular array of

ascending concrete frames

4.11 Interior view within the great exhibition hall

Photos © 2013 Patricia A. Duff, courtesy of the photographer

134 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

Play 4b

Design in Cross-Section

or

Running Roofs

3'·6" / 1.05m2' /60cm

7'/ 2.10m

3' /90cm

8' / 2040cm

4' 9'·6" 9'·6" 4' 9'·6" 9'·6" 4' 9'·6" 9'·6" 4'1 1 2.85 1 2.85m 1 1 2.85m 1 2.85m 1 1 2.85m 1 2.85m 1 11.2m 1.2m 1.2m 1.2m

B" /20 cm

9"122.5cm

8' / 204m

8' /204m

8' /204m

1'· 6"16'

4.80m45cm

1'·6" 1'·6"4' 16'

1.2m 4.80m45cm 45cm

1'·6" 1'·6"4' 16'

1.2m 4.80m45cm 45cm

1'· 6"

45cm

4 '

1.2m

17'·6"

5.25m

15'·6"1.65m

17'·6"

5.25m

s-«1.65m

17'·6"

5.25

4'

1.2m

PLAY 4B − RUNNING ROOFS 135

RULES OF PLAY

Base form

Use the roof together with related zones as shown.

Maintain the zones

The zones and margins must remain fairly constant while flexibly positioning each

individual part.

Maintain the relationship between roofs and zones

Roof sections may be raised or lowered. As a rule, they should maintain their relation-

ship to underlying zones.

Develop the floor plan in tandem with your sequence of sections

Throughout this version of play, as each new floor space is created in section, immedi-

ately place it onto the building plan and fine-tune the overall design.

Presentation

Show all sections and a plan, freely incorporating supplementary exterior axonomet-

rics, sketches of details and text.

This play further explores design development in cross-section, starting with a base form

that establishes the roof as a continuous primary organizing and unifying design element

throughout the sequence of sectional transformations. It also provides an opportunity to

begin to explore the cross-sectional possibilities of using continuous roofs as elements

that catch, redirect and filter light in ways that organize the built field below. As in Play

4a, it once again emphasizes the use of grids, zones and margins as organizational tools

for positioning architectural elements and configuring building spaces.

136 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

STRATEGIES

Let the roof structure your transformation

This play relies on the continuity provided by series of parallel roofs above to work as a

counterpoint to the free play of space and supporting structure below and to unify the

design. The roof’s stable presence allows for shifts in the shape or rhythm of columns

and/or for wholesale substitution of different load-bearing elements. While keeping

the relationship of the roof sections to the zones constant, the roof and its sectional

character can also change.

Build continuity before introducing changeability

Start by building coherence. Only after continuity in the form has been achieved is it

time to entertain moves that represent a radical shift in form or character.

Play freely with the façades

The end façades need not be load-bearing or fixed relative to the roof. They may freely

evolve via localized massing moves and articulation. Designers may freely extrude or

contract them and/or create exterior space protected by an extended overhang or

new secondary roofs.

Play with intermediate floors

Experiment with various sectional combinations of balconies, mezzanines, full-height

spaces, interrupted spaces and stacked minimum height spaces. Observe how each

sectional change affects spatial relationships and how lighting possibilities and strate-

gies adjust in turn.

Design the form of light

Diagram and design the shape of natural light as it is introduced to the building and/or

cast onto major elements and planes at selected times of day.

In-Depth Considerations

SAMPLE PLAY 4.3 − RUNNING ROOFS 137

This sample play is again based on a tripartite zoning scheme. However, the basic under-

lying spatial organizing principle is fundamentally different from the continuous domi-

nant central spaces that anchored the Grange and Galleria sample plays. Here, the

scheme’s dominant organizing feature takes the form of three continuous parallel roofs.

This design strategy allows the design of space under each roof to develop freely and

independently from the organization and articulation of space in adjacent bays.

In S1, space follows the tripartite division suggested by the roofs. In S3, two zones have

full-height spaces while floors of standardized height are stacked in the remaining zone.

In S4, packing and stacking rooms under the roof maximizes the amount of available

served or use space. In S5, a pyramidal roof interrupts the continuity of the running roofs

and space underneath runs perpendicular to the zones. At the points where the building

ends, one roof and half of another extend outward to define major outside space.

Sample Play 4.3

Running Roofs

Plan and section are developed in parallel. Each plan

segment is added to the last in order to build the whole.

It is useful to work simultaneously on both the ground floor

and roof plans.

S2

S2

S3

S3

S4

S4

S5

S5

S6

S6

S1

S1

Sequential cross-sections

138 DESIGNING IN CROSS-SECTION

Special Topic

Catching and arraying light to organize

a built field

Museum Ludwig and Philharmonic Hall, Cologne (1986) Busmann + Haberer, Architects

The roofs of the Museum Ludwig and Philharmonic Hall work together as a major

unifying and organizing design element of the diverse forms and spaces below. They

jointly function as a rhythmic directional field, organizing the overall composition of

each building in plan, in section and in light. Continuous series of light scoops raised

above the flat roofs of both forms introduce parallel luminous bands of light throughout

the buildings. Entering light is then shaped in various ways, incorporating a great deal

of small scale adjustment, lateral shifts, stops and starts, etc. in response to the specific

requirements of the architecture, its overall organization and program. It is diffuse in

multi-story public spaces, filtered in bands or in grids of arrayed squares in galleries.

4.13 Aerial view from the Cologne Cathedral. Photo © 1986 Thomas Robbin, courtesy of

the photographer

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 139

Sectional design, when fully integrated into the design process, contributes formal

clarity and solidifies design concepts. Variations on a particular sectional theme may

also serve to unite buildings of very different origins and styles.

During the extraordinary period of the late 1920s, three villas − R.M. Schindler’s Lovell

Beach House, Konstantin Melnikov’s House and Le Corbusier’s Villa Baizeau − were

similarly designed around variations on one particular sectional theme: spatial inter-

lock between double-height spaces that face one another and are vertically offset by

one story.

Diagram the section of each house, drawing only major horizontal and vertical defining

elements. Document the proportions accurately and observe the relationship of various

key dimensions to human scale.

• What patterns of rhythm and alternation between single- and double-height floors do

you observe?

• How do the three buildings differ?

• What elements reveal whether each section cut is transverse or longitudinal?

Research and locate the corresponding floor plans:

• How does correlating plan to section expand your understanding of each building?

• How do light and circulation work with the longitudinal direction of the building?

To cap this structured observation:

• Design a sectional variation based on the theme of interlocking double-height spaces.

• As in Plays 4a and 4b, use your section as the base move of a sectional transforma-

tion sequence.

• After creating the sequence, create a building by extruding the series of sections

into modules and connecting them.

How easy is it to create a rich sequence of spaces by morphing your own Schindler-

Melnikov-Le Corbusier section?

4.16 Villa Baizeau. Tunis (1930). Le Corbusier, Architect

Drawings © 2013 Andrés Mignucci, based on drawings by

the architects

4.15 Melnikov House. Moscow (1929). Konstantin

Melnikov, Architect

4.14 Lovell Beach House. Santa Monica, California,

USA (1926). R.M. Schindler, Architect

Structured Observation

Interlocking section

140

A dance of grid, topography and invention

In 1839, sea captain and surveyor Jean-Jacques

Vioget was commissioned to create a plan for

Yerba Buena, a sleepy Mexican territorial outpost

of tents and cabins. Vioget laid out a modest grid of

streets following the cardinal directions. It featured

a central plaza surrounded by 412' (126m) × 275'

(84m) orthogonal blocks, nestled in the fields

between scattered steep hills and a bayside cove.

Fuelled by the California Gold Rush and the

Mexican-American War, the diverse “boom town”

population grew from 50 to 25,000 between 1844

and 1850. The urban grid of “San Francisco” was

hastily extended. By the time the advantages of

adjusting the grid and terracing roadways into the

steep hills became apparent, it was already too late

to halt construction and renegotiate property lines.

Instead, owners adjusted prevailing building types

to suit their particular slope, orientation and building

entry points one building at a time.

5.1 Topographic Map © 1960, courtesy of Planning

Department, City and County of San Francisco,

California. Image from Earth Sciences and Map

Library, University of California, Berkeley

As a direct consequence of that grid, San Francisco

is renowned for picturesque Victorian architecture;

stunning and unobstructed urban vistas of hills,

beaches, bridges, towers, bays, islands and

coastlines beyond; and four dozen distinct and tight-

knit neighborhoods nestled against hillsides and

spilling down across the coastal plain.

More important than the end product was the

additive process residents invented to forge a city.

It created a singular culture − one that continues

to celebrate invention, innovation, improvisation,

individual freedom, optimism and moving and

looking steadily forward with resilience.

141

5Start with a simple section comprised of two walls and a roof. Transform it into a more

elaborate form, step by step.

Design steadily forward, resisting any temptation to make revisions.

Think a few moves ahead and

improvise,

unphased by

unexpected turns.

Learn not to cling

to preconceptions.

Trust that your journey

will succeed.

Visualization and Resilience

142 VISUALIZATION AND RESILIENCE

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Plays 1−4 encouraged players to explore alternatives risk-free − to sidetrack, plunge

forward, retrace steps and redirect design at will. In design performances based on

open-ended give-and-take with form, the goal was to ultimately arrive at a full, coherent

and interesting sequence of moves while mastering discrete tools, methods and skills.

Play 5 focuses on designing forward, removing sidetracks and “do-overs.” It is intended

to solidify your ability to think form and introduces no new tools, approaches or struc-

tured observation. The emphasis is on designing forward − thoughtfully, intuitively and

resiliently. After exploring design in section in Plays 3 and 4 and focusing on design

in section in the mind’s eye in Chapter 4, this play hones your ability to think ahead,

envision and retain in the mind’s eye a series of optional moves and where each one

leads − to mentally compare alternative directions, select the most promising one and

commit to it. Only then should you begin to draw.

The goal is to create a transformation sequence in cross-section from start to finish

in one steady unbroken linear design progression. As in a live performance, there is

no reconsidering, second-guessing, backtracking, erasing, taking back or “un-doing.”

As in calligraphy or the so-called “touch-move” rule in chess, every move, once begun

hands-on, “counts”: Every time you start to draw a move, it is carved in stone.

Exploring alternatives in the mind’s eye is an essential design habit. The hands-off

visualization in this play encourages you to follow your intuitive preferences and see

where they lead. It requires an ability to foresee possible sequences of moves and

a fair amount of self-confidence. Particularly throughout the first rounds of perfor-

mance, it is likely to require a great deal of resilience and improvisation.

• Think carefully before you act.

• Do your considered best and move on.

• Allow your errors to stand in the harsh light of public scrutiny.

• Accept the unforeseen consequences of your actions.

• Don’t look back.

It’s not the note you play that’s the wrong

note — it’s the note you play afterwards

that makes it right or wrong.

— Miles Davis

Introduction

PLAY 5 − DON’T GO BACK! 143

INITIAL RULES OF PLAY

Base form

Start from the base form provided.

Develop each move fully in the mind’s eye and commit to it prior to drawing

The first time through the play, this requirement may be relaxed to allow quick diagram-

matic exploratory sketches.

Shape the site

Performing Play 5 includes designing its site as an integral part of the overall design.

Draw in section

Record each move in one unaccompanied section drawing.

Moves and adjustments permitted throughout play:

• transforming the site profile

• adding new forms and elements

• penetrating walls, floors, ceilings and roofs

• adding connectors to link parts of the form

• stretching or shrinking parts, including the base form

Play 5

Visualization and Resilience

or

Don’t Go Back!

c> E-" ~... .

I ~

" I E~ ~~, (')

3'-4"

1.00m

J6~O:'"

4.80m

3'-4"

1.00m

4'-4"'1 .50m

8"'2Ocm1'-0"'30=2'-0"'60=

" I E~ ~~, (')

144 VISUALIZATION AND RESILIENCE

Disallowed moves

• Do not remove parts once they have been added.

• Do not retrace your steps to undo moves that you regret.

No shortcuts

For designers who enter play with particularly strong visualization skills already in

place, leaping ahead is often a problem. In this play, a disciplined step-by-step record

of your design process is necessary to review moves with a critical eye.

Number of moves

Continue until you feel you have documented coherent form as a proof of concept and

reached a good stopping point.

Repeat your performance

Repeat this play until you build sufficient visualization skills to design hands-off with

confidence.

ADDITIONAL RULES FOR ADVANCED PLAY

In this play’s most austere and challenging form:

There are no tryouts

Experimental pre-move “try-out” sketches are not permitted.

Alterations to existing form are severely limited

• The size, location and proportion of buildings and parts, once drawn, cannot be

adjusted.

• Fundamental geometries may not be altered.

• While the site may be adjusted, building forms may not be reshaped in response.

• Openings in building surfaces and connections between parts may be added.

• No other portions of any drawn form may be erased.

Playing in an unforgiving manner quickly forces players to perform at their best and

boosts their ability to “think form.” It is, moreover, consistent with the idea of conversa-

tion with form:

As in verbal conversation or posting on the Internet: Things, once stated, can never

be unsaid.

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 145

STRATEGIES

Don’t “Just do it!”

Overly impulsive design moves are likely to create hurdles a few moves later. Always

consider alternatives before moving. Whether or not you experience eureka! moments

during environmental design, it is always a process of envisioning, exploring and

weighing series of alternate creative solutions, applying judgment and foresight to

select the best option.

Keep moving forward

Balance deliberation and action. Move the rhythm of design steadily on, as if it were

an improvised live performance. Do not allow the design process to stall by getting

sidetracked into endless exploration of possibilities.

Pace yourself

Forward motion must resolutely occur one single meaningful move at a time. Creating

rhythmic sequences of distinct moves enhances your general ability to move forward

in design evenly and gracefully.

Mentally record the paths not taken

Be prepared to retrace your steps and point out alternatives that were identified and

explored but set aside. Be prepared to explain why.

Evaluate your sequence

The dual prohibition against taking back moves and/or covering your tracks makes

this an ideal play for assessing your design instincts:

• Where, in retrospect, should you have moved differently?

• Where did your design instincts or ability to project and envision alternative futures

fail you?

• Where was a strong-willed decision to plow forward − or to take a long detour to get

more or less back on the original track − a mistake?

Practice, practice, practice

In all performance, talent is developed through repeated play. Given the open-ended

nature of this play, the benefits of repetition hold particularly true.

In-Depth Considerations

146 VISUALIZATION AND RESILIENCE

BEAR IN MIND

Holding design up to continuous scrutiny

Reevaluating moves and considering options is essential throughout any design process.

Our legacy charrette design ethos − dating back to the Ecole des Beaux Arts − advo-

cates continuous design and presentation improvement up to the very last moment …

provided that the last-minute changes hold up under critical scrutiny. Conversely, few

sins are deadlier in academic studio culture than cutting short design inquiry and “miss-

ing opportunities” or glossing over messy problems.

That academic training carries over into practice: Contracts anticipate a certain amount

of aesthetic redesign. Building dimensions, systems, components and details adjust

throughout design and construction. Built details that fail to look as imagined may be

demolished, redesigned and rebuilt.

Resilience

Nonetheless, many problems remain beyond the designer’s control. There are also

unyielding constraints such as budgets and schedules. Renovations and fast-tracked

new construction rarely allow for adjusting initial conditions in order to design forward

optimally or turning back the clock, going back to the drawing board, wiping the slate

clean and starting over.

Building upon existing constraints and inherited problems without compromising design

outcomes requires improvisation and innovation. Above all, it requires the ability to:

• creatively transform drawbacks into springboards for successful design;

• think a number of moves ahead in three dimensions;

• effectively communicate solutions on the fly, in words and sketches;

• design forward at times when the project cannot stop or reverse course;

• visualize alternative ways out of a tight spot; and

• accept what cannot be changed, even in simple matters of form.

When the inherent limitations of your own previous moves come to light in Play 5, you

may identify design strategies ways to steer around the problem; cycle back by devoting

subsequent moves to retrofitting the form as a correction; or seek inspiration in the new

situation to reenergize design and relaunch it in new and promising directions.

However you proceed, you must move forward with resilience.

SAMPLE PLAY 5.1 − THE MOON HOUSE 147

The Moon House transformation sequence follows the less severe initial rules of play.

Its depiction of structure is deliberately simple and cartoon-like. Exaggerating the

dimensions and line weights of key details during initial design often conveys innate

properties and draws distinctions better than strictly accurate and neutral portrayal

would. Rooting the drawings in physical reality while also skewing a bit from the real

world makes the sections readable and evocative, but also open-ended and playful.

It also helps the designer to continually register and bear in mind material properties.

The rendering style emphasizes the basic contrasts and intrinsic possibilities of the

systems, while highlighting how and where the systems meet and how loads are

supported by structure. Even at this diagrammatic stage, the exaggerated rendering

style indicates two distinct systems. The battered walls start thick and taper inward

as they extend vertically, conveying the stacking of unspecified heavy material. The

triangle of the roof does not reveal whether it is a wooden or steel truss, although

subsequent moves suggest timber posts and beams.

The massive vault-like walls invite carving to create penetrations: simple punched

openings, niches, beam pockets and bearing shelves. The lighter roofs and interior

bearing structure suggest some variety of wood or steel framing that might also incor-

porate any number of alternative flooring assemblies, from structural tongue and

groove flooring to a composite light concrete floor.

Shaping, sloping, excavating and carving the site is integral to this sample play.

A few regrettable moves create problems or point in undesirable directions:

• In the aftermath of M9, the relationship between the building’s entrance and its

interior space remains unresolved.

• M11 attempts to improve unfortunate aspects of the spatial organization.

• M13 and M14 do undoubtedly partially “correct” it.

• Although the addition of the moonlit landscape that appears in the last move to

some extent justifies M14, the view appears to have been invented after the fact.

Sample Play 5.1

Visualization and resilience

or The Moon House

MOON HOUSE DEVELOPED FINAL STATE

148 VISUALIZATION AND RESILIENCE

BASE FORM Two bearing walls support a roof.

M6 A new portico to the right

M1 Additional height accommodates a new

floor

M7 Another to the left

M2 Widening the section requires a column

to support the span.

M8 The ground form is carved out to the left;

an arched opening allows access to this

space.

SAMPLE PLAY 5.1 − THE MOON HOUSE 149

M3 The column is displaced to the right.

M9 The basement floor is dug deeper.

M12 The roof is raised by extending the walls

that support it.

M4 A partial basement is carved out.

M10 A level change in the ground form with a

new set of steps to the outside

M13 An opening is cut from the basement to

the outside porch.

M5 Additional height allows clerestory

lighting on both sides.

M11 The basement is fully excavated.

M14 A window is cut to open the view to the

moon and the sea.

150 VISUALIZATION AND RESILIENCE

This play was created in two rounds, following the more severe Additional Rules For

Advanced Play. Each move fully incorporates without change all previous moves.

During the first “lightning round,” the design was rapidly envisioned then recorded

in quick gestural sketches. The final rough sketch inspired the expanded Channel

House transformation sequence. In the extended play sequence, each step consti-

tutes a simple discrete move and is depicted in a different color to highlight the strictly

additive and linear nature of the two-step design process: The primary form is first

established through M3. It is then articulated throughout M4−M9.

Play starts with a room-sized C-shaped form of enclosure that incorporates floor,

wall and roof. The form appears to be prefabricated, perhaps steel or concrete. It

is intrinsically open and predisposed to interlocking spatially with other channels.

Those inherent properties of the form are further enhanced by the uneven length of

the legs, all of which makes for ease of play centered on dynamic interlock of space.

M2 offsets and mirrors the starting section, establishing the spatial relationship

between the two primary form-giving elements. M3 encloses the primary volume and

adds a small solarium with the introduction of a second smaller channel-shaped form

composed of an unspecified glazing material.

Waiting until M4 to introduce the ground form is certainly counterintuitive. However,

as in Sample Play 5.1, the site is neither a given nor a pre-determined existing condi-

tion. As a designed component like any other, it is added subject to the designer’s will,

judgment and preferred design sequence.

It is also quite possible that the section of the whole was already fully formed in the

designer’s mind: The remaining question was then what would become building and

what would be shaped as landscape. In early design diagrams created by Wright or

Scarpa, for instance, materially undefined shapes and objects often appear where

needed in the built field to add spatial and dimensional definition. Some subsequently

become building; others freestanding built forms; and yet others planting beds.

As a whole, the Channel House illustrates how rich and complex spatial readings can

build when very simple elements are combined in an equally simple linear progression

of moves.

Sample Play 5.2

Visualization and resilience

or The Channel House

M1

M2

M3

M4

M5

BASE MOVE

“Lightning Round” sketches

SAMPLE PLAY 5.2 − THE CHANNEL HOUSE 151

M1 A second channel is reflected and

displaced from the first.

BASE MOVE: A channel-like form offers partial

containment.

FINAL STATE

M4 A ground form is introduced.

M7 A stair connects the two main levels.

M2 A glazed channel spans the two

larger channels.

M5 A ground form level change

M8 A cantilevered balcony extends the

terrace.

M3 A thick wall closes off the section and

implies earth retention.

M6 Railings overlooking the double-height

spaces

M9 Door openings with protective

overhangs appear.

152

Architectural systems drive design

An essential underpinning of thematic design is the understanding

that all architecture − local vernacular, everyday buildings and

signature architecture alike − is built on structured combinations

of design principles, rules and building systems. Systems represent

a common wellspring of inspiration of great architecture, for

both signature and thematic buildings. They offer the potential to

reinforce and extend the essential culturally shared character and

quality of good built environment. Bodies of work such as Wright’s

and Le Corbusier’s similarly build upon systems approaches.

6.1 Column syntax. Ministry of Social Welfare and Employment,

Amsterdam (1990). Herman Hertzberger, Architect. Copyrighted

drawing courtesy of the architect

153

Use architectural systems to structure, define and articulate building form and varying

spaces within and beyond the building.

Create a variety of

distinct forms and spaces

built upon common systems.

Each remains

fundamentally unique

while obeying similar rules of

combination and

expressing related architectural

identity.

Thematic design relies on systems.

It need not be confined by them.

6 Working with a Primary Architectural System

154 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

Chapter 6 explores what systems are, their parts and rules and the generative design

role they play in defining a given architecture.

Individual design methods and objectives vary: Some architecture rejects any

semblance of systematic design or logic in order to project theoretical or sculptural

inspiration, artful accretion of form, material collision, arbitrariness or even whimsy.

Nonetheless, all design is ultimately developed by following a process of systems

evaluation and selection followed by the establishment of orderly, hierarchical and

coherent relationships between parts. Architects therefore compose, communicate

and construct form using combinations of systems.

Over the course of an additive series of partial plays, Play 6 explores the use of systems

to build formal and stylistic character. In the process, the plays reveal, expand upon and

confirm the rules of combination that ultimately define each system, its appropriate

use and architectural capacity. They then begin to shape a unique architecture under

the hands of each player.

Throughout each performance, designers are encouraged to systematize formal

design moves and decisions. Yet it is left to each designer to determine how the inher-

ent strengths and characteristics of selected systems will drive design: Play 6 lends

itself particularly well to furthering your hands-on feel as a designer for how and when

to break the rules.

Defining architectural systems

Systems are predefined sets of elements that are assembled following specific rules

to form complex wholes. In thematically coherent built environment, systems and

subsystems also play an important sociocultural role: They embody shared ideas and

preferred ways of building. That mechanism weaves common understanding into envi-

ronmental fabric.

Architecture tends to be defined by its constructional, stylistic, environmental and clad-

ding systems. Architectural system is an umbrella term that may be applied to any such

ordering system that intentionally and substantially shapes building form. The rules

and elements of such architectural systems may be explicitly defined by legal codes

or manufacturers’ specifications. Or they may be implicit in widely shared cultural prac-

tices and traditions. The term building system variously describes structure, construction,

cladding, environmental controls, utilities or services including communications and

security networks, etc. Whether or not these are “architectural” systems depends on

whether the designer uses them consciously to shape form.

Introduction

INTRODUCTION 155

Systems that are defined by code or introduced into the marketplace by manufactur-

ers have well-documented and easily identified parts and rules. By contrast, vernacu-

lar systems start out open-ended and implicit. As increasing numbers of individuals

successfully adopt similar ways of combining similar parts, they may become fixed and

codified over time — as occurred with the North American wood stud framing system.

Vernacular systems otherwise remain defined by social practices and local building

cultures and identified by observation and comparison.

Using and combining systems

Systems jointly build the form, style, structure and image of architecture and regulate

its performance. They also form a basis of common understanding among players who

combine well understood limited selections of elements in agreed upon ways to arrive

at a given result.

No coherent aesthetic vision can be realized without carefully selecting and combining

structural, material and component systems. In projects such as the Barcelona Pavilion

of Mies van Der Rohe or Le Corbusier’s Villas La Roche-Jeanneret and Savoye, poetic

invention is married to rationalized structure, manufacturing and building production.

Architects and builders rely on particular combinations of systems to offer consistently

satisfactory aesthetic and technical design and performance. Placed within electronic

libraries, specifications and performance standards, they allow design teams to call

upon preferred, pretested and previously coordinated combinations of systems, parts,

details, interfaces and scopes of work. The alternative — reinventing, developing, coor-

dinating and field testing unique combinations accompanied by new details, specifica-

tions, scopes of work and erection sequences for each project — would be prohibi-

tively time-consuming while exposing projects to additional risk.

The decisions that underlie the selection of particular combinations of architectural

systems are by no means purely pragmatic: The parts, rules of assembly and compat-

ibilities of each building system imply specific formal character and capabilities.

Systems unite to create open-ended design armatures of architectural character and

possibility. Those frameworks contribute to the underlying spatial, structural, construc-

tional and experiential character of form. They scaffold subsequent intervention as

new systems, formal transformations and environmental players follow.

All systems limit the range of form by specifying particular design methods, elements,

materials and relationships between components. For instance, structural systems

set parameters that directly influence a range of possibilities: height; bay size; fenes-

tration; how members carry or resist loads and support cantilevers; where and how

natural lighting can or cannot be introduced; and the sequence, means and methods

of construction. Secondary and subsystems further fill in the outlines of design, physi-

cally and conceptually.

The 2/3rds rule

Vernacular systems emerge organically over time with

conventional − rather than codified − rules and parts.

Therefore, they exhibit a good deal of variation. This

renders their definition difficult and potentially ambigu-

ous. When environmental forms are observed to exhibit

significant overlap of both certain parts and associated

implicit rules about 2/3rds of the time, that overlap may

be considered to define a system.

156 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Architectural styles employ particular system selections in combination to maintain a

similar look and feel across buildings. Often, styles symbolize and embody sociocul-

tural, economic and political meaning. Styles that primarily reflect the aesthetic predi-

lections and values of their designers and/or showcase current trends may or may not

reflect broader cultural values.

Designing with specific systems in mind

System selections and combinations are often ad hoc, tailored to a specific situation

and design intent. For instance, building envelopes vary widely. Depending on the

primary structural system, mid-rise building façades may be composed using store-

front, curtain wall or structural glass wall systems or individual windows. Designers

may decide on either “punched” or “trimmed out“ windows, carefully designing indi-

vidual window sizes and shapes. Or they may opt for curtain walls and detail structure

and attachment accordingly. Aesthetic preferences, design intent and performance

specifications then determine the rhythm, proportion, color, finish, opacity and mullion

and glazing attributes that determine interior and exterior architectural, spatial and

urban character.

Beginning with specific systems already in mind at the start allows ongoing dialogue

between selected systems to inform architectural design while also allowing the

designer to tailor them individually and in combination toward specific aesthetic ends.

In conditions such as a glazed roof bearing upon structure, understanding of the over-

all design, character and details can only progress beyond a rudimentary point by

selecting and understanding specific systems and how to combine them: Does the

glazing frame bear directly upon the structure in a series of point loads, or is an interme-

diary light structure used to transfer those loads? In the latter case, is that intermediary

system a space frame, a series of light steel or laminated wood trusses or a precast

concrete structure? Are the lower walls precast or sitecast concrete? Are they bearing

masonry or prefabricated panels attached to a structural concrete or steel frame?

Ultimately, all architectural systems and subsystems are thematic: They come with

selections of parts and rules that must be consistently adhered to … with occasional

exceptions: Overstepping the boundaries, ignoring normal constraints and/or occa-

sionally introducing foreign elements into the mix is also very much part of the game.

SPECIAL TOPICS 157

This sequence of play variations was inspired by a structural and spatial motif found in

two 20th century projects: the Richards Medical Research and Goddard laboratories

by Louis I. Kahn and the Centraal Beheer office building by Herman Hertzberger.

While maintaining certain elements found in those precedents, the play reduces

the essential module/base form from its original institutional size − roughly 900ft²

(100m² ) − to a more residential 144ft² (13.4m² ) small-room-sized scale.

To begin, Play 6a builds over the course of three parts. Part I focuses on initial two-

dimensional exploration of the system, arraying series of modules and their compo-

nent parts in various ways to create a building footprint and site plan. It is a study in

how even simple systems with limited selections of parts can generate a coherent,

well-formed and architecturally interesting plan.

Taking the ground floor / site plan as a point of departure, Part II then introduces the

complete three-dimensional module and its variable kit of parts as a base system.

Players add to and reconfigure the modular base form as necessary and transform the

building and site plan in the process of generating a 3D design.

Part III adds further systems and begins to transform the three-dimensional array of

parts and forms into architecture.

Play 6a sets up an initial exploration of the use of systems. It serves as the basis for two

advanced plays: In 6b, the architectural framework of 6a is transformed by overlaying

it with a style system chosen by the individual player. 6c takes design to the next level,

testing the architecture of the base building and inserting partitioning and further

articulating the plan to illustrate how it will look, feel and function.

Special Topic

Kahn-Hertzberger variations

Introduction

6.2 Module used in Kahn's Richards Laboratory

6.3 Module used in Hertzberger's Centraal Beheer

158 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

In the University of Pennsylvania’s Richards Medical Research and Goddard Labora-

tories, Louis Kahn created a series of linked stacks of square column-free labs, each

the size of a small building. The lab modules align along a series of parallel datum lines,

organizing a built field that is highly directional but does not balance form around a

dominant formal axis. In plan, the bilateral reflective symmetry of the individual labs,

their planning grids and perimeter serrations seems almost bastion-like in its inward

focus. In elevation and section, however, Kahn directly builds upon the design of

pioneering architects including Frank Lloyd Wright and Gerritt Rietveld to dissolve

the heavy masonry and bring the surrounding exterior world and sunlight in via open

glazed corners. Borne by slender concrete cantilevers, layer upon layer of the towers

appears to float suspended in the air.

Translating Kahn’s emerging architectural vision into built form required rigorous

research and development related to building systems. It led to the creation of a unique

structural module in which building loads are transferred by a 50ft² (15m²) crisscross

of prefabricated beams shaped like a tic-tac-toe (noughts and crosses) grid. The

analytical drawings by Enric Xercavins i Valls clarify how the double cantilevers at the

corners are supported. The beams step upward, reducing their depth as they approach

the corner, where the bending moment decreases. Beneath that carrying structure,

offset pairs of columns located within the middle third of each perimeter wall carry the

transferred load down at each floor. As a result of this pioneering architectural system,

every corner can be wrapped by 270 degrees of unobstructed light.

Kahn spatially separates the small-building-sized modules that create his floor plan.

Connecting them with slender corridors allows each module in the assembly to read

and function as an independent configuration. Quick visual analysis reveals that Kahn

used a regularly repeating tartan grid as a planning module to guide the placement

of building elements. He then aligned the fields to create a strong primary direction.

To what extent did Louis Kahn’s vision drive the system? To what extent did the archi-

tecture draw inspiration from the inherent form-defining character and possibilities of its

structural system? At a certain point, such distinctions had become meaningless: In the

final building, the vision and the system it spawned had grown inseparable.

6.5 Step-by-step assembly of the kit of parts to

form a three-dimensional module. Copyrighted

drawings by Mark Oberholzer and Philip Baraldi,

courtesy of Mark Oberholzer

6.4 Exterior. Photo © Michael E. Reali Jr., courtesy of the

photographer

Special Topic

Kahn-Hertzberger variations

Richards Medical Research and Goddard Laboratories Philadelphia (1965) Louis I. Kahn, Architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 159

6.7 Ground Floor Plan. Copyrighted drawing from

the Louis I. Kahn Collection, The University of

Pennsylvania and the Pennsylvania Historical and

Museum Commission, reprinted with permission

6.6 Axonometric of prefabricated structural system

with key details. Drawings © 2003 Enric Xercavins i

Valls from “La prefabricación en edificios singulares,”

courtesy of the author

4 3

2

3

2

4

2

2

160 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Kahn’s revolutionary design was followed several years later by Herman Hertzberger’s

Centraal Beheer office building. The primary module looks strikingly similar in diagram-

matic plan drawings. However, differences in dimensions, rules of assembly, materials,

aesthetics, massing and spatial character add up to a very different architecture.

Both Kahn and Hertzberger establish directional fields with parallel series of demar-

cations (datum lines) rather than formal axes. But while Kahn’s plan is fundamentally

linear, Hertzberger’s is non-directional. While Kahn extrudes the ground floor building

footprint upward to create a highly articulated tower, Hertzberger aggregates modules

entrepreneurially in three dimensions. The result is a visually complex non-directional

multi-story spatial field that measures 10 modules by 10 modules on the ground and

ranges from 1 to 5 stories in height. Within the highly articulated interior space of

the three-dimensional built field, spaces for designated uses alternate with multiple

height openings. Those voids allow light to penetrate down into the building. They

create views that sometimes focus beyond the exterior and at other times visually link

successive spaces and passageways.

Hertzberger, like Kahn, uses a tartan grid as an ordering device. In this case, the zones

locate the 30' (10m) modules, while the margins accommodate interior bridges and

general circulation and also function as lanterns lit by the glazed roofs.

As in the previous example, the primary building system in Centraal Beheer is at once

structural, material, geometrical, spatial and aesthetic.

6.8 Interior. Copyrighted photo by Willem Diepraam,

courtesy of the architect

6.9 Interior. Copyrighted photo by Jan Derwig, courtesy

of the architect

Special Topic

Kahn-Hertzberger variations

Centraal Beheer Apeldoorn, Netherlands (1972) Herman Hertzberger, Architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 161

6.11 A basic kit of parts of five plan elements –

window, glass block and opaque corners,

niche walls and columns – is freely combined

to articulate space and fine-tune visual

and acoustic screening, closure, openness,

indirect light, opacity, etc.

6.12 Plan. Copyrighted drawing courtesy of the architect

6.10 Herzberger’s module. Traditional load-

bearing masonry wall systems place punched

openings away from the corners. Glazed

corners are achieved by shifting the load-

bearing elements toward the center third of the

perimeter walls while resisting shear with the

carrying structure. An aggregation of four

modules defines a three-dimensional vertical

space reserved for light and circulation.

20 m20

162 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Play 6a − Part I

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Design the Ground Floor and Site Plan

RULES OF PLAY

Base form

Use the Single Base Module as your base form.

Define material components

Define the material of the system. (Precast concrete is suggested, particularly the first

time around.)

Define the site

Designing both the building form and the site is crucial to this play. In Part I, maintain

a simple flat site. Feel free to work within additional contextual constraints, such as

placing your site within a particular characteristic urban fabric.

Additional elements

The columns and walls that compose the base module may also be used indepen-

dently to build site definition. Site walls may be extruded to any length.

Freely superimpose and combine like elements when merging modules

Columns and walls have sufficient bearing capacity to support parts of several abutting

modules. They may therefore be shared when mirroring or otherwise joining modules.

End result

At the close of Part I, your final form should present the footprint of your building,

together with site definition.

Record the rules

Record the final plan and also the explicit or implicit rules of combination that govern

form-making within the system.

12' × 12' (3.7m × 3.7m) Single Base Module

PLAY 6A − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART I 163

STRATEGIES

Explore the configuration’s capacities and limitations in plan

Explore the endless series of flexible building forms and interior compositions that can

be generated by arraying single base modules and recombining them. Note that despite

its architectural specificity, the module allows for an infinite range of possibilities.

Try on a different perspective

Freedom to move in new directions is frequently gained by seeing what is firmly in

place in a different light − perhaps by redefining component configurations or even

flipping or inverting the design to view it from an entirely different angle.

BEAR IN MIND

Trust the system

Trust in architectural systems – or in arriving at favorable design outcomes via open-

ended processes – does not always come easily. Nonetheless, entering into dialogue

with form requires trusting in incremental development and understanding that rich and

elaborate configurations can grow from stepwise series of small open-ended moves.

Anticipate subsequent development

With each move, try to anticipate and evaluate multiple alternatives for subsequent

moves. In laying out your form as an initial framework for subsequent design, try to

anticipate how alternative moves will influence the developing architecture overall,

throughout Play 6a and beyond.

Directional and non-directional fields

There are two primary ways to array systems horizontally as you generate a built field:

Directional fields reinforce a primary direction. Their zones and margins tend to run in

parallel, with no limit to the number or length of zones. Movement in secondary direc-

tions will differ in character and articulation in ways that can be readily organized and

reinforced by the zoning system.

Non-directional fields extend simultaneously along two or more directions, with no

dominant direction as form grows by accretion. Otherwise, in the special case of non-

thematic non-directional fields such as churches, temples or buildings such as Andrea

Palladio’s Villa Rotonda, it may embody strict reflective symmetry across multiple axes.

In-Depth Considerations

164 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Converting the original square module (M0) into a double module (M1) creates direc-

tional form. Adding perimeter walls (M4) to enclose the design transforms the exterior

into figural and positive designed space instead of remnant leftover space … a design

strategy whose notable precedents include Ludwig Mies Van der Rohe’s Patio Houses.

Sample Play 6.1

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Part I: two-dimensional exploration

M0 Single base module M1 Mirroring the single base module,

removing interior T-shaped columns and

replacing them with round columns at

the perimeter creates a double module.

M2 A nominal 4' × 4' (1.2m × 1.2m) tartan

planning grid of zones surrounded by

margins is set. Two additional double

modules are placed parallel to the first.

SAMPLE PLAY 6.1 − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART I 165

6.13 Patio House Project (1931−8). Ludwig Mies Van der

Rohe, Architect. Drawing © 2013 Andrés Mignucci,

based on drawing by the architect

M3 A covered gallery with one lateral

extension unifies the modules and

provides a principal circulation spine.

M4 A territorial perimeter wall further

defines a series of interconnected

courtyards and gardens.

M5 The courtyards and gardens are paved

and planted.

166 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Play 6a − Part II

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Three-Dimensional Exploration

Base system modules and elements

Building Modules:

Single Base Module: 12' × 12' (3.7m × 3.7m)

Double Module: 12' × 24' (3.7m × 7.4m)

Niche wall

Columns

Plan Sections showing roof elements6"(1

5cm

),

10'-6

"(3

.15

m)

9'(

2.7

m)

9'(

2.7m

)6"

(15

cm)

l'(3

0cm

i

4'

1.2m

12'(

3.6m

)

4'

1.2m

4'

1.2m

9'(

2.7

m)

6'-3

"(1

.9m

)

N~

3

rq (;)

N~

en3

2-

N~

3

4'(

102m

)

6'-6

"(2

m)

CIl ~ g'

18"

(45c

m)

2. CIl ~ g' 318

"(4

5cm

)-CIl ~ g' 2.

PLAY 6A − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART II 167

RULES OF PLAY

Start with the site

Start with the site plan you generated in Part I.

Build the 3rd dimension

Array the various parts to build 3D space based on the 2D plan.

Slope the site

Next, introduce a sloping ground profile and transform your building to adjust to it.

Assess the system’s capacity to adapt to various site changes.

Make additional sectional adjustments on the fly

As you play, freely adjust the site plan to compress or expand the height of interior

spaces and introduce level changes in the ground form.

Modules

• Single and double base modules may be aggregated in any way, as long as they

follow the modules’ geometry and are buildable.

Columns and beams

• Any of the three column shapes − T-shaped, cruciform and round − may be used at

any time.

• Columns and beams can be used outside the module to form porticos, balconies,

canopies, colonnades and other architectural features.

Niche walls

• Niche walls can be placed anywhere along the building perimeter, except at corner

bays.

• They can also subdivide space … but as a rule only under the beam lines.

• Exception: They may also be placed in the middle of the central bay of modules.

Roofs

• The flat roof can be stacked or used for roof terraces.

• The vaulted roof is intended for use with the double module.

6.14 Roof vaults. Sangath, Ahmedabad, India (1981)

Balkrishna V. Doshi, Architect. Photo © Aga Khan

Award for Architecture /St. Anne, Joseph N.

168 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

STRATEGIES

Start by making the kit of parts

This hands-on three-dimensional design performance requires ready access to all parts.

Model them in advance, either physically or digitally, based on your available resources,

preferred working method and media.

Explore the system

Explore the capacities and limits of the system’s components and how they interact.

Take advantage of the freedom inherent in partial transformation

Within larger configurations, identify smaller parts to independently manipulate. Observe

as you elaborate or act upon only one part while keeping others constant.

When changing the kit of parts seems necessary …

Maintain the basic elements of play. Starting with the least important elements first,

evaluate thematic variations. Component parts that combine to assemble each part–

whole configuration element can also be switched. For example: Before abandoning the

use of columns, consider changes to their profile, material properties and construction,

base, capital and bearing details.

What is already in place should inform what follows

Introducing non-thematic elements into everyday environmental fabric is a significant

act: It should be undertaken neither arbitrarily nor capriciously. Just as historic churches

incorporated dimensions, architectural systems, materials, details, surface treatments

and styles from surrounding built environment and fit in as if they were inevitable, in

successful thematic transformations, new forms ideally evolve out of what has already

been created.

Willingly suspend disbelief

The poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge described the necessary willing suspension of

disbelief that allows the narrative of fiction to succeed. So, too, with form: In creative

dialogue with emergent form, it is essential to listen to what various themes might have

in store rather than willfully imposing a solution. One mark of a skilled designer is the

ability to quickly and intuitively identify several potential ways to move forward. Equally

important is foresight in weighing options and selecting directions that will continue to

open up further possibilities.

Add a non-thematic element Try enhancing the whole by adding a one-time special

feature: a carefully selected “non-thematic” configuration that markedly deviates from

the system’s parts and rules.

In-Depth Considerations

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 169

BEAR IN MIND

A single system is rarely sufficient

Building design brings numerous systems into play. Each subsequent system adds

richness and completeness. No single system is – or should attempt to be – sufficient

to encompass a complete and rich design. Don’t design and articulate an entire build-

ing using only the provided kit of parts!

Use building planning tools to position uses and elements

Utilize zones, margins, modules and grids to define relationships between physical

elements and create a framework for positioning them.

Keep relations constant

Thematic transformation builds upon established relations between parts. Their rela-

tive positions tend to remain constant. Examples: When an arch is substituted for

a lintel, its placement remains constant relative to supporting elements. Inserting a

column base between column and floor rarely offsets or displaces the column. Game-

changing alteration of such fundamental thematic relationships arguably marks the

beginning of a new and different play.

Systems outcomes are open-ended

Particular systems and their kits of parts often anticipate and favor particular design

approaches, forms or styles. However, all thematic systems allow for enormous variety.

They neither prescribe outcomes nor provide recipes for specific final forms.

Every system has limits

The inherent selections and exclusions of each system carry formal implications and

limitations. Each system precludes certain architectural directions and limits a build-

ing’s capacity to accommodate certain uses in ways that may become obvious only as

design progresses.

Break your own rules

Once the parts of the system have been arrayed in strict accordance with the place-

ment rules, observe how intentional deviation from thematic principles — creating

unique space that varies from the norm in size, span, shape or materiality — may offer

incidental advantage and/or design counterpoint and may require the introduction of

out-of-system elements.

Don’t get lost in play

Taking the opportunity to explore the limits and capacities of the system is every bit

as important as demonstrating how skillfully you can array and stack the elements to

craft architectural form.

170 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

This axonometric sample play is roughly based on the kit of parts of Play 6a − Part II,

with the notable absence of vaulted roofs. The play breaks down into three succes-

sive explorations: M0−M6 explores the base system’s digital kit of parts and how to

build the sorts of principle structures previously depicted in plan in Sample Play 6.1. In

M7−M8, the plan from Part I is built up into three dimensions. M9−M11 then begins to

transform and articulate the design laid out by the kit of parts framework: It introduces

a series of ground form level changes, increases the height and hierarchical impor-

tance of the central module and begins to explore a roofing system.

The presentation approach is effective and efficient. It makes no attempt at elegant

depiction of the design. Nonetheless, the sequence of images as a whole carefully

introduces and explores the pieces and how they come together. That said, particular

strategies for combining prefabrication and site fabrication and how individual parts

of the various walls and the perimeter beams come together and attach to the rest

of the system seem inadequately explored. Because this is an abstract digital repre-

sentation and not a physical model, it was easy to depict the totally unsupported roof

grid positioned in three-dimensional space. Omitting the sequential move of placing

the perimeter beam and allowing the grid to visually float unsupported for a series of

moves is ill-advised, particularly since the kit of parts provides no hint regarding how

the perimeter beam is assembled or manufactured.

At the conclusion of Part II, we have completed a substantial exploration and visualiza-

tion of the kit of parts, the rules that govern assembly and also of the three-dimensional

possibilities of the forms, relationships and sophisticated design strategies proposed

in Part I. The end result may be viewed as a framework or armature for succeeding

steps that would actually create and articulate an architecture.

Sample Play 6.2

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Part II: three-dimensional exploration

M0 AXONOMETRIC KIT OF PARTS

• Prefabricated structural elements: piers, columns, roof grids and

perimeter beam (sample corner section shown)

• Sitecast elements: low and high walls (small sample low pier shown)

• A grid square of 7×7 units

SAMPLE PLAY 6.2 − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART II 171

M1 The basic building unit is expanded by adding modules to the roof

grid. Intermediate perimeter columns are introduced below the

midpoint of the roof grid alignment. They are round, signaling that they

will not form corners.

M2 A double module is introduced.

M3 The defining characteristics of this system-based architecture are now

present: open corners, double modules, several alternative varieties of

structural columns and a gridded flat roof structure assembled on a 4'

(1.2m) square planning grid.

M4 The roof grid is transformed by enlarging the principal square at each

of its four corners. As a result, the open corners persist; however, they

have shifted and become less dominant.

172 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

M5 Combining multiple grid squares sets the stage for designing a larger

and more complex field.

M6 Three double modules are placed upon the expanded grid.

M7 Arrays of exterior columns link the three modules. M8 The addition of perimeter walls transforms the leftover open space to

a bounded figural and spatially defined entity. It unifies a compound

of courtyards juxtaposed with building modules.

SAMPLE PLAY 6.2 − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART II 173

M9 The ground form is articulated by a series of level changes. M10 The roof of the central module and its hierarchical importance

are raised.

M11 A roofing system is added.

174 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Part III builds directly upon Part II. It begins to add secondary systems as it translates

the diagrammatic model of the building compound into architecture. No additional

base forms, base system components or strategies are specified.

RULES OF PLAY

It’s your move

Each designer at this point must follow his or her own preferred path, technique and

rules in transforming the diagram and projecting the beginning of an emerging evoca-

tive architecture.

Make it explicit

Each addition you make to the existing systematic framework requires both a selec-

tion of parts and a set of rules to be fully comprehensible. Document any additional

rules, parts, objectives and forms sufficiently for another designer to both understand

and take over and continue play at any point.

Media

Representation may include any mix of drawings, photographs, digital or physical

models and written vignettes.

Play 6a − Part III

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Projecting an Architecture

BEAR IN MIND

Continue to design thematically

Although one singular strong formal move may seem to give the design increased char-

acter and strong focus, it is important to focus on thematic design in ways that can be

expanded systematically.

Evoke a building / don’t produce one

The idea of this proof of concept is not to design an entire building, but to develop central

ideas, approaches and vignettes that point toward a subsequent architecture. Stop when

you feel you have adequately illustrated the design direction, its look and feel.

In-Depth Considerations

SAMPLE PLAYS 6.3 AND 6.4 − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART III 175

Architecture builds upon far more than skillfully composed primary systems. The initial

forms we create provide a framework for articulation. They must build a sense of hier-

archy, flow, character, presence, style, materiality, relative closure vs. permeability,

openness vs. privacy, etc. And their structure must remain open to the incorporation of

complex environmental qualities in response to the needs and preferences of owners,

inhabitants and the future.

In the follow-up to Part II: 3D Exploration, two distinct approaches to developing an

architecture based on a diagrammatic framework — and two profoundly different

aesthetics — emerge in the quick sketch exercises of Sample Plays 6.3 and 6.4.

Sample Play 6.3 is a fairly direct and literal extension of M11, with further expan-

sion of the system and thematic exploration of its capacity. Employing the same quick

axonometric sketch technique, it appropriates and expands the depicted form-making

system and underlying design principles as well as the physical size of the site and

building complex. It expands the initial kit of parts and adds supplementary systems

such as visual screens of varying opacity. It also introduces a new series of roof forms

and an expanded series of ground plane moves and standardizes two new formal

motifs: Standardized square flat-roofed pavilions — both single- and double-height —

are arrayed throughout the built field, either as autonomous forms or branching off

from the linear array of bays. Within the walled and partially sunken complex, the exte-

rior walls and passages of the interconnected main building are now entirely enclosed.

Sample Plays 6.3 and 6.4

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations

Part III: projecting an architecture

Sample Play 6.3: Articulated architectural form based

on M11

176 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Street elevation of the compound, showing

three modules along the perimeter wall

Longitudinal section through compound

Front elevation of module Side elevation of module

Sample Play 6.4

SAMPLE PLAYS 6.3 AND 6.4 − KAHN-HERTZBERGER VARIATIONS, PART III 177

Sample Play 6.4 adopts a fundamentally different approach. It is less about exploring

a system and its limits and more about understanding how to start with a system and

end up with a convincing and evocative urban architecture. Its exploration focuses on

the human experience of architecture and urban design and how — even in abstract

and diagrammatic form — complex and coherent built fields can evolve out of small-

scale design decisions.

Building upon M11, the designer shifts gears, explores a small piece of the walled

compound and articulates an architecture in a combination of drawings: a longitudinal

section/elevation, elevation drawings of a case study module and a street elevation

that projects a series of façades in theme and variation. The goal is to explore simulta-

neously the emerging spatial and aesthetic character of the whole compound and of

its individual parts. The street elevation suggests an additive approach to urban design.

It is, in essence, a quick exploration of starting with a base building module and building

a large aggregate collective form.

As is often the case when walled communities and compounds are observed from

outside the wall, we perceive little of the urban or sectional organization of the built

field behind the wall. At the same time, we have a clear idea of the urban face, scale

and character of the design and the rhythm of entries. At the architectural scale, we

see an emerging exterior kit of parts, where and how elements are set within the

façades and how they look and feel as an ensemble. Perhaps in counterpoint to the

plan, the urban face of the project introduces strong compositional balance, in which

the reflective symmetry of the central 1- or 2-story module is counterbalanced by

the placement of secondary add-on façade elements, entryways and the carefully

composed massing and dimensions of the perimeter walls.

In evolving two profoundly different architectures out of a common diagrammatic

model, Sample Plays 6.3 and 6.4 demonstrate the versatility inherent in working with

an architectural system − particularly when its elements are assembled with rigor,

geometric discipline and a sense of exploration, invention … and play.

The street elevation in Sample Play 6.4 hints at a further question about extending

building design to the urban level:

What similar themes, common elements and rules are crucial to coherence when devel-

oping a collection of varied buildings along a block?

178 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

In selecting architectural systems, it is useful to think in terms of stereotomic and

tectonic properties.

Combining systems that tend toward heavy, solid, cave-like earth- and gravity-bound

form with tensile upward-reaching open light-filled frameworks expresses the primal

opposition of sticks and stones. It touches on the tension between our deeply rooted

sense of gravity and attempts to tower above it.

The joining of stereotomic and tectonic systems often takes on phenomenological,

metaphorical, cosmological and/or poetic significance: Buildings root in the solid

ground and trunk and branches extend upward as they reach for the heavens. In so

doing, they provide objective correlatives for various accompanying states of mind.

They unite the protection of cave dwellings or Le Corbusier’s underground chapel

at Sainte-Marie de la Tourette with the light and open frameworks of E. Fay Jones’s

Thorncrown Chapel or Jean Nouvel’s Institut du Monde Arab.

Special Topic

Tectonic and stereotomic families of form

One tends toward the light and the

other toward dark. These gravitational

opposites may be said to symbolize the

two cosmological opposites to which

they aspire; the sky and the earth.

− Kenneth Frampton

6.15 The cave. The archetypal stereotomic form.

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

6.16 The house as cave. Setenil, Spain. Photo ©

1983 Andrés Mignucci

6.17 The cave reinterpreted. Casa Poli,

Península de Coliumo, Chile (2005). Pezo von

Ellrichshausen Architects. Copyrighted photo

by Cristobal Palma, courtesy of the architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 179

6.20 The tree rejoins the forest. Thorncrown Chapel.

Eureka Springs, Arkansas (1980). E. Fay Jones,

Architect. Photo © 1998 Jonathan Teicher

While stereotomic and tectonic building systems may be used independently, they are

commonly paired, as when wood or steel framing rests upon a stone, concrete or block

foundation. The less similar the fundamental character of the juxtaposed systems, the

more likely that associated properties such as containment, lightness, openness, etc. will

strongly contrast, in ways that may assume broad architectural significance.

In cave-like forms, beams of direct natural light are framed by openings, with gradations

of secondary indirect light shaped by wall and ceiling surfaces. In contrast, the varying

thickness and density of branching elements creates diffuse non-directional filtered light

within tectonic frameworks. Combining these families of form contrasts the earthbound,

the heavy and immovable against the lightweight, sheltering and sky-directed; the rock in

contrast to the tree; the dark and secluded space against the light and outreaching form.

6.18 The tree. The archetypal tectonic form.

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

6.19 The tree trunk as column. Photo © Silvia

La Ferrara, courtesy of the photographer

180 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

The highly structured stereotomic form of southern Europe’s hilltowns is fine-grained

and complex. Each town is the product of a long-term build-up of fairly simple and

systematic moves that have occurred continuously throughout the aggregate form.

The recognizable character and coherence of each place results from consistently

integrating vernacular systems and patterns at many dimensional scales and times.

Within each town, series of similar acts have evolved over time into fundamental

patterns in theme and variation. Long slender streets wind along contours. They follow

the large-scale landscape direction and adjust to accommodate local site features.

Lots are laid out to accommodate houses of a prevalent local type and an anticipated

range of uses. Streets build up gradually by accretion and are eventually lined with an

unbroken wall of building fronts. As they wind along the contours of the steeply sloped

site, they collectively form a continuous wall, a quasi-urban infrastructure. Building with

similar systems and patterns yields similarity and continuity.

6.21 Whitewashed aggregate form rising above

foothills. Casares, Spain. A renowned white village

of the Mediterranean

6.22 Low-lying forms along switchbacking streets

carve into a rock escarpment. Montefrío,

Spain. A Moorish castle crowns the hilltop

Special Topic

Vernacular systems

Southern European hilltowns

SPECIAL TOPICS 181

At the same time, individual building forms freely adjust both to local site conditions

and to the larger topography, geology, views and range of use of the whole. Cease-

less variation results from the build-up of countless fine-grained decisions and unique

adjustments that produce each individual entry sequence and form. Those changes

result in variations in size, structural system, bay size, dimensional system, surface

materials, finishes, color palette and placement of fenestration. They reflect differ-

ences in site; topography; owner, builder and user preferences; and changes in mate-

rial, systems, uses and local culture over time. Much of the uniqueness of each building

site can also be ascribed to overlap, adjustment, compromise or patterns of interfer-

ence between myriad systems or form making on different scales, as when streets,

houses, arches, planes or material surfaces meet in unanticipated ways. The rest is

attributable to human nature.

In sum: Each hilltown building is unique. Yet in theme and variation, the buildings follow

certain key rules that govern room and building size, window alignment and position-

ing, symmetry, story heights, etc. While each building is created and maintained inde-

pendently, it is their collective form that tends to be recognized.

Copyrighted photos 6.21−6.23 by Maurice K. Smith from

the Intrinsic Attributes of Built Form Assemblage special

library collection of MIT Dome digitized content, courtesy

of the photographer

6.23 Built form moves up and over the hill. Gordes,

France was colonized by Celts, Romans and

subsequently by artists including Marc Chagall and

Victor Vasarely

182 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Just as stone buildings in southern European hilltowns vary significantly from place to

place, traditional vernacular systems for building wooden houses in Japan also vary

regionally. In all cases, the rules of construction subsume a broad range of considerations.

Conventional wood building systems such as North American stud wall framing are

generally concealed and considered to be devoid of stylistic or value-laden meaning.

They limit form based only on code, practical or technical bases. Such is not the case

in traditional Japanese vernacular architecture: Here, each bit of joinery participates in

any one of a number of builderly and aesthetic traditions and the basic nominal 2'-11"

(90cm) dimensional module of the tatami mat width carries a great deal of association.

Historically, the overall size of a given room − measured in tatami mats − has implied a

specific range of dimensions and three-dimensional proportions.

Special Topic

Vernacular systems

Traditional Japanese architecture

6.24 Restored Edo Period (1600 –1868) rowhouse

storefront. Hida Takayama, Japan. Copyrighted

photo by Jonathan Teicher

6.25 Yoshijima House sake brewery. Hida Takayama,

Japan (1908). Nishida Isaburo, master carpenter /

builder. Copyrighted photo by Timothy M. Ciccone,

courtesy of the photographer

SPECIAL TOPICS 183

6.28 A surprisingly fluid solution allows rooms to align.

When a 5-tatami-wide space abuts two smaller

rooms with five tatamis plus an intermediary wall, the

end walls should be displaced by the width of the

partition. To avoid misalignment, the module itself

adjusts: The room incorporates some tatami mats

that are either wider or more slender, depending

on local preference. Drawing © 1998 N. John

Habraken, from The Structure of the Ordinary

6.27 Measured drawing of a traditional teahouse

plan in the sukiya style

6.26 Traditional Japanese house roof framing systems

Drawings 6.26, 6.27 © 1964 Heinrich Engel from

The Japanese House: A Tradition for Contemporary

Architecture, courtesy of Rose Engel

Design principles and selections in classical Japanese house forms frequently embody

social hierarchy, cultural history and geomancy as well as local building culture. They

often determine building size and mode of assembly, orientation, modular and propor-

tional design, detailing, joinery, ornament and placement and porosity of screens. The

resulting form embodies a coherent aesthetic, sociocultural, phenomenological and

practical worldview.

The structure of many Japanese building types is based on conventional plans. Each

individual framing structure can therefore be described in simple carpenters’ diagrams.

Traditionally, these have been left in the rafters to guide future generations of carpenters

as buildings grow and change over time.

184 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

As a reigning non-thematic architectural system over the course of more than 2500

years, classicism offers an unparalleled example of cyclical transformation of a system.

Initially, the system codifies and makes explicit ways of building that are intimately

linked with local materials. As the system spreads and the locus of building, associated

materials and technologies change, the system may become dematerialized and find

new expression more appropriate to local building.

Classical architecture debuted in the 6th century bc in Paestum and elsewhere. The

evolving regional Doric, Ionic, Tuscan, Composite and Corinthian orders each took

into account the structural properties and workability of local stone using available

technologies while also incorporating local varieties of religious, cultural and aesthetic

expression via proportion, spacing, quantity, entasis and designated ornament.

Early Greek temples also embodied an inherent and unresolvable tension between

ideal form and execution: Columns were intended to stretch heavenward as continu-

ous slender tree forms, but technological limitations led builders to assemble them by

stacking and carving solid drums of stone. While temples sought to be eternal, bronze

age tools would only permit the quarrying and carving of relatively soft and porous

materials.

As regional ways of non-thematic building were appropriated, they became more

abstract, disassociated from their original materials. Classical architecture traveled

with conquering armies, embodying the hegemony of rising Bronze Age city-states

over their colonies. Subsequently, Rome became the standard-bearer for classicism

and built form edged further away from direct expression of material. For the first time,

the widespread introduction of iron age technologies permitted the quarrying, cutting,

shaping and transporting of massive blocks of timeless granite. Nonetheless, effi-

ciently and economically cladding thick composite walls of concrete, brick and rubble

in granite only where visible proved irresistible.

A thousand years after the height of the Roman Empire, classical architecture was “redis-

covered.” When France overran northern Italy, the classically inspired Renaissance archi-

tecture of Leonardo da Vinci in Florence, Sebastiano Serlio in Rome, Andrea Palladio

and Vincenzo Scamozzi in Vicenza and Venice again traveled with conquering armies.

Special Topic

Evolution of systems

Classical, neo-classical and related styles

6.29 Systemic variations of bases and Ionic capitals

from Isaac Ware’s A complete body of architecture:

adorned with plans and elevations, from original

designs

SPECIAL TOPICS 185

Palladio’s The Four Books of Architecture combined woodcuts of measured draw-

ings of monumental Roman-era buildings with his own classically inspired work. In the

wealthy mercantile Renaissance-era Veneto of Palladio, the glory of classical columns

was often cost-effectively reproduced in brick covered in marbleized plaster. His work

became influential and widely translated.

For centuries, Palladianism − and subsequently post-Enlightenment neo-classicism −

traveled via networks of the educated European elite and continued to spread through-

out the world, where they continued to be assimilated and reinterpreted according to

local building culture. For instance, fluted columns and classical porticos were quickly

grafted onto local vernacular building types to establish “Greek revival” architecture

throughout 18th and early 19th century Northern Europe and North America. Hollow

wooden millwork columns required no bases and often eliminated them. In the late

19th century, decorative columns began to appear as cast iron. In the late 20th century,

non-structural columns had progressed to molded fiberglass.

6.30 The Pantheon. Rome (ca. ad 126). Often

attributed to Apollodorus of Damascus.

Drawing from Monumenti di Fabbriche

Antiche by Giovanni Battista Cipriani

6.31 Il Redentore. Venice (1577). Andrea

Palladio, Architect. Photo © 2013 Wolfgang

M.A. Moroder, reprinted with permission of

the photographer

6.32 Krier House. Seaside, Florida (1989). Leon Krier,

Architect. Copyrighted photo by Steven Brooke

from Leon Krier: Architecture and Urban Design

1967–1992, courtesy of Leon Krier

6.33 Villa Capra (Rotonda). Vicenza, Italy (ca. 1570)

Andrea Palladio, Architect. Copyrighted photo

with permission of Edwin Smith / RIBA Library

Photographs Collection

186 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Frank Lloyd Wright’s unique and far-ranging body of “organic” architecture continues

to have lasting stylistic and philosophical influence worldwide.

During certain key periods, Wright produced large numbers of freestanding resi-

dences linked by particularly strong thematic character. Those individual collections

of homes in theme and variation − notably his early period Prairie School, American

System-Built, Usonian, Californian and Desert Southwest homes − often combined

particular building systems, spatial progressions, uses of light, surface textures, details

and use of figural motifs. Their combined coherence and beauty ultimately led them

to be expressed in a number of distinct emerging regional vernacular styles and ways

of building.

Wright’s work spanned three-quarters of a century. As it spread throughout the world,

it also incorporated profound industrial shifts from orthogonal building in traditional

natural materials to reliance on concrete, glass, aluminum and steel and the incor-

poration of electricity, elevators and environmental control systems into buildings of

unprecedented geometry. His ability to maintain stylistic coherence over so large a

body of work relied on ironclad systematic application of the principles of the internally

consistent formal rules that traveled with his unique formal system.

That consistent systematic quality, present from the very beginning, added aesthetic

depth to Wright’s architecture. No less important, it allowed him to convey the formal

principles of his work to his dedicated band of followers and made it possible for

disciples as diverse as Richard Neutra, Rudolph Schindler, E. Fay Jones and Paolo

Soleri to sketch, detail and oversee construction of his singular, intricate and rigorously

consistent projects. Wright’s design principles and motifs were rigorously applied by

the architect and his apprentices to multiple scales, to buildings, interiors, fixtures,

furnishings, dinner plates and even stationery. On at least one occasion, Wright was

so overcommitted that he delegated primary responsibility to a trusted disciple with an

admonition to “make it look like a Frank Lloyd Wright building.” Nothing in that charge

was particularly open-ended or ambiguous.

Eventually, Wright’s systems approach, preferred systems, details and design motifs

were translated and exported around the world.

Special Topic

Frank Lloyd Wright’s systems

6.34 Exterior photo. Herbert and Katherine Jacobs

House 1, Madison, Wisconsin (1936). Frank

Lloyd Wright, Architect. Copyrighted photo by J. D.

Steakley, courtesy of the photographer

SPECIAL TOPICS 187

6.35 Living rooms with bedroom wing visible beyond. Pope-Leighey

House, Alexandria, Virginia (1941). Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect.

Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, HABS,

Reproduction number HABS VA,30-FALCH,2−1

6.37 Partial street elevation. Darwin D. Martin House. Buffalo, NY (1905).

Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs

Division. Photo (1965) by Jack E. Boucher, HABS, Reproduction

number HABS NY,15-BUF,5−3

6.36 Plan. Pope-Leighey House, Alexandria, Virginia (1941).

Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. Library of Congress, Prints &

Photographs Division, HABS, Reproduction number HABS

VA,30-FALCH,2—002

6.38 Site and main floor plan. Darwin D. Martin House. Buffalo, NY (1905).

Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. From Ausgeführte Bauten und Entwürfe

von Frank Lloyd Wright [The Wasmuth Portfolio]

188 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Antonio Gaudí has long been renowned for his extraordinary and wildly idiosyncratic

handling of façades, roofscape, sculptural detailing and surface treatments. Projects like

Casa Milà celebrate the resulting tension between the building and its vernacular context.

Careful observation of Gaudí’s masterful Casa Milà further reveals how the architect

painstakingly follows the urbanistic rules laid out for Barcelona’s Eixample (the 19th

century extension created by Ildefons Cerdà i Sunyer). Its overall massing, story and

window heights, primary cladding materials, use of projecting bays and decorative rail-

ings also build thematic consistency with its contextual surroundings.

Equally important is the building’s unseen selection of technical systems. In particular,

its early adoption of steel frame structure and of a curtain wall system to create a self-

supporting façade was highly innovative … if not revolutionary.

In sum, the building is at once both powerfully thematic and non-thematic. Straddling the

two worlds allows it to contribute to the larger whole of the context in which it stands. That

setting in turn enriches Casa Milà’s singular architecture.

Special Topic

Incorporating industrialized systems

Casa Milà (La Pedrera) Barcelona, 1905 Antonio Gaudí, Architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 189

6.40, 6.41 Exterior Views. Photos © 2008 by

Andrés Mignucci

6.39 Casa Milà in urban context, Cerdá’s

Eixample district, Barcelona. Casa Milà, at

the center of the photo, is recognizable for

the distinctive curvilinear forms of its façade

and the elliptical voids carved out of its core.

Aerial photo © 2013 Google Image/ Institut

Cartogràfic de Catalunya

190 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

By the 1920s, profound and growing disconnects between the traditional forms and

appearances of buildings and ongoing radical shifts in the organization and produc-

tion of built environment were apparent. Local materials assembled onsite had long

defined vernacular built environment. By now, there was often little or no connec-

tion between how buildings presented inside and outside and their actual construc-

tion based on factory produced systems and materials. For many architects, finding

authentic stylistic expression for architecture based on industrialized systems produc-

tion became a leading quest.

6.42, 6.43 Views from the street and within the multi-

story salon

Copyrighted photos by Georg S. Rotne from Da Verden var

Ung: Modernisme og industriel arkitektur i Frankrig, courtesy of

Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, Schools of Architecture,

Design and Conservation and the photographer

Special Topic

Incorporating industrialized systems

Maison de Verre (Maison D’Alsace) Paris, France (1932) Pierre Chareau, Bernard Bijvoet and Louis Dalbet

SPECIAL TOPICS 191

Four years after Rietveld attached his concrete, glass and steel Schröder House

(1924) at the end of a row of thoroughly conventional brick bourgeois suburban

rowhouses in Utrecht (Netherlands), and while Le Corbusier was designing the exur-

ban Villa Savoye, the French interior architect Pierre Chareau set off in a different

direction, creating the Maison de Verre (Glass House), working in close collaboration

with Dutch architect Bernard Bijvoet and French metal craft worker Louis Dalbet.

There were notable similarities between Chareau’s project and Rietveld’s: Interior parti-

tioning was dynamic, adjusted by sliding and pivoting screens and doors. Chareau’s

aesthetic similarly celebrated painted steel columns with exposed rivets, industrial

glazing systems, glass block room dividers, rubber floor tiles, perforated metal screens,

exposed piping and conduit. The details he and his co-designers perfected showcased

20th century building systems, transforming them into decorative elements with rhythms,

patterns and geometries that were heavily influenced by classical Japanese architecture.

By the 20th century, the Parisian hôtel particulier had evolved in many directions,

including the block-long apartment buildings that lined the Boulevards of Haussmann

and countless tasteful bourgeois courtyard townhouses. Chareau’s project was to be

sited in an example of the latter. Chareau’s original plan may well have been to demol-

ish the building in entirety and insert a modernist building into the heart of its traditional

fabric. But in the end, only the first three stories of the back and one side of the court-

yard building were ultimately demolished.

In their place, the designers inserted the iconic space with its multi-story salon and

steel framework of patterned glass. In addition to serving as a medical clinic, the salon

of the Maison de Verre was a meeting place for anti-fascist intellectuals, Surrealist

poets, film-makers and artists including Walter Benjamin, Jean Cocteau, Joan Mirò

and Louis Aragon. Then, as now, the masterwork was visible to passing outsiders only

briefly, when the gate of the residence at 31 Rue St.-Guillaume swung open.

In many ways, the Maison de Verre was a harbinger of contemporary practice, in

which design is often expressed through exquisite selection, placement, detailing and

assembly of industrialized systems and their elements. It is also emblematic of a world

in which iconic signature works of architecture often remain hidden from sight and

inaccessible, known almost exclusively through published images.

192 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

The orthogonal character of preceding examples should not be misinterpreted: Noth-

ing in systems approaches to design inherently limits building geometry. The Hysolar

Institute employs two basic orthogonal modules − a rectangle and a square. However,

geometric inflections in the relative position of the elements create a spatial corridor

and an architecture that is rich, complex and open.

Special Topic

Incorporating industrialized systems

Hysolar Research Institute Stuttgart, Germany (1987) Behnisch & Partner, Architect

6.44 Aerial view. Copyrighted photo courtesy of

Behnisch Architekten

6.45 Exterior. Copyrighted photo by William Veerbeek,

courtesy of the photographer

SPECIAL TOPICS 193

6.48 Diagrammatic design plans. Copyrighted drawing

courtesy of Behnisch Architekten

6.46 Interior. Copyrighted photo courtesy of Behnisch Architekten 6.47 Diagram showing square and rectangular

design modules. Copyrighted drawing by Andrés

Mignucci, based on the architect’s drawings

diagram of plan modules

194 WORKING WITH A PRIMARY ARCHITECTURAL SYSTEM

Advanced Play − Combining Systems

Some designers easily start to envision the architectural potential of a building system

based on a sparse array of elements. Others, by virtue of different education, skills

and natural affinities, prefer to focus first on the building shape, its façade and/or the

character of its interior spaces, secure in the knowledge that a structure to order, build

and support it can surely follow.

It is natural for a designer to have strong predilections and lean toward designing

in certain ways rather than others. However the intent of thematic design plays is

to enhance the fundamental versatility and resilience that permit a designer to start

… anywhere. Hopefully, whether you start with a building system, building type, style

or thematic series of spaces, the end result is a well designed, rational, articulated,

constructible, inspiring and ultimately appropriate and useable built form. That ability

to begin from any number of points of departure and design confidently is necessary

for successful design intervention in complex built environment.

Play 6b − Introduce a particular style

• Start with the final three-dimensional form of Play 6a as your design framework.

• Develop the design, incorporating a new and different style of your choosing.

• Articulate that theme through a number of moves.

It is not necessary to design a whole building for the purposes of this play. However, the

resulting design should provide a strong indication of the look and feel your building

would achieve, if carried further as a formal exercise in building design.

Play 6c − Extend design down to the level of partitioning

• Explore various wall thicknesses and heights, partition types and details.

• Assemble a kit of parts for interior partitioning.

• Begin to define rooms and partitions in a sequence of step-wise additive moves.

Frameworks of basic system elements presented in exterior models, axonometric

drawings and elevation studies are insufficient for exploring the essential experiential

character of inhabited interior space. As a proof-of-concept for your design, start to

look at how you would partition the interior to create places of specific character. While

you may chose to complete the interior partitioning of space throughout, or extend it to

more than one floor, it is sufficient to suggest via limited examples or vignette sketches

a range of types of rooms, partitions and partitioning strategies.

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 195

At the end of Chapter 6, it is useful to once more return to the built field beyond the

studio and observe the systematic character of its widely shared architectural systems.

To start, select a few buildings that appear to be “of a kind” − i.e., that seem to share a

somewhat similar set of elements and formal approach. They may represent everyday

buildings that follow a similar typology, style, ethos and/or method of construction.

Or they may be far-flung examples of a specific building type or style; the products

of a particular “school” of architectural design; or a series of buildings designed by a

particular architect.

Try to gain access to the buildings, themselves. (If that fails, gather plans, sections,

elevations, photos and other descriptions.) Focus on one or two physical systems

that contribute strongly to the common architectural character of the ensemble. They

might be structural systems, recurring combinations of cladding, fenestration and

exterior detailing or recurring elements that define a specific design system or style.

Compare buildings and try to identify specific recurring elements together with the

underlying rules that seem to regulate their placement.

Record your findings in words, drawings and images.

Now consider the limits of the architectural system:

• What can it do?

• How far can it be pushed?

• Does it easily accommodate growth upwards and/or horizontally? If so, how?

• What is the character of the normal spaces it provides?

• How are larger served spaces created? What characteristics do they share?

Prior to proceeding to the concluding section of this chapter, carefully assess and

double-check your environmental observation:

• Is your analysis of the elements, rules and capacities observed accurate?

• Is it complete, or are there rules and/or parts you failed to record in describing

the system?

• How would you more thoroughly describe the observed system?

Structured Observation

Analyzing systems

196

7.1 Opera House. Sydney, Australia (1973). Jørn Utzon,

Architect. Copyrighted photo by Matthew Field,

courtesy of the photographer

197

Begin with architectural systems

Combine multiple systems

to create unique

hybrid form –

places as rich, complex and dynamic

as everyday environment

7 Combining Systems and Controlling Complexity

198 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

PURPOSE OF THE PLAY

This chapter focuses on the rich architectural meaning and formal possibilities inherent

in juxtaposing multiple systems. Architecture − whether thematic or non-thematic − is

defined by the ways in which each designer combines systems. Mastering the ability

to select architectural systems, combine them and express their materiality, strengths

and spatial characteristics is of paramount importance.

Play 7 is about combining systems to jointly structure three-dimensional form, space

and experience. The design of overlapping or interweaving systems is a challenge

in itself. The play also serves as a vehicle for further hands-on exploration of zoning

and distribution of material in three-dimensional space. It provides an opportunity to

observe the reciprocal influence between a system’s parts and the zones that struc-

ture their placement.

The methods and explorations presented in this chapter anticipate architectural

intervention in the context of large and complex everyday built fields, which ordinarily

comes about under the hands of multiple players.

Stacking systems

Architecture is rarely composed using a single form making system: Architectural

systems tend to be arrayed in combination, for reasons that are first and foremost

formal and conventional, rather than technical.

There are a vast number of ways to combine and superimpose systems. Perhaps the

most fundamental way is to stack them vertically. Architecture is shaped in large part

by the combined character of the systems selected and by how and where the transi-

tion from a lower system to an upper system takes shape.

Until the 20th century, physically and visually lighter systems were generally placed on

top of heavier ones. Traditional vernacular architecture continues to place wood upon

stone or brick when both varieties of material are locally available. Juxtaposing heavi-

ness and lightness is one way to make built form speak.

On a primal level, the material properties of stone, brick, block and other massive stere-

otomic systems are associated with earthbound ground forms. They rely upon mass to

transfer forces and are naturally strongest and most efficient in compression, some-

what weaker in tension. Inherently, they work most efficiently when directly transfer-

ring vertical loads. Horizontal slabs of natural stone − or, less frequently, brick − may

Introduction

INTRODUCTION 199

be laid on the ground to form structural platforms. They may otherwise be stacked to

create bearing walls or piers or laid on end to form columns. They may also extend

outward horizontally to define protected space below, when expertly corbelled, arched,

domed or reinforced with a secondary material to maintain constant compression, or in

carefully engineered simple or complex cantilevers.

Wood assumes many different forms as it structures log, post-and-beam and stick-

built buildings, arches, planar roofs and domes. Because wood is ideal for creating

lightweight frameworks, it is closely associated with upward-reaching tectonic frame-

works or sky-forms. Wood is somewhat weaker in compression but far lighter in weight

and stronger and more efficient in tension and bending than stone. It is therefore an

ideal natural material for spanning horizontally and easily transfers horizontal forces

vertically through bending and/or use of tensile connections.

These primal materials can be shaped and refined in a number of ways to create

diverse architectural systems for varied purposes. Combined systems may be as

simple as wooden posts resting upon solitary stones, timber frameworks set on or into

stone platforms or walls or stud walls bolted onto concrete or block foundations. Most

commonly, combined systems lift wood up to protect it. No matter how elaborate the

combination becomes, it provides solid bearing, transfers loads down into the earth

and avoids or mitigates contact with the destructive combination of moisture together

with air.

How systems are elaborated and set into place in combination makes all the differ-

ence. Wide-ranging vernacular examples include:

• relatively light mud brick upper walls bearing upon massive stone lower

walls. Urban fabrics of such buildings have appeared with increasing sophistica-

tion since rise of the Anatolian town of Çatalhöyük (7500 BC) and similar Neolithic

settlements.

• wooden frameworks of columns and beams. Traditional wood frame struc-

ture often bears on a stone platforms or column bases. Japanese minka are notable

for their addition of delicate infill panels to create closure.

• table-like timber column and roof structures resting on massive stone

platforms are a common feature of pavilions and temples throughout many build-

ing cultures.

200 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

Traditional combinations of systems vs. the new game

Traditionally, pairings of systems have evolved in response to the preferences of social

groups and local building cultures. Those systems subsequently become bound to one

another, to one or more building types and to mental images and hands-on traditions of

how to build in a particular place. Experience, expedience, tradition and collective iden-

tity then extended those thematic ways of building everyday places to the construction

of non-thematic buildings wherever possible.

Local combinations of systems contribute to the coherence of extant built environ-

ment, respect local ways of building and capitalize on local strengths and advantages.

They have often been optimized to perform together efficiently with minimal invest-

ment of material or labor. At other times, they are jointly structured to convey power,

privilege, identity and/or religious significance … or simply to radiate beauty. Whatever

the defining purpose, combining systems that are locally familiar serves to maintain

operational clarity: Their method and sequence of construction, interface and detailing

has become second nature. Commonsense therefore often favors working with locally

appropriate combinations over importing systems that are exotic or invented − and

potentially poorly understood.

7.2 Stacking wooden boxes on concrete frames

Lovell Beach House, Newport Beach, California

(1926). R.M. Schindler’s architectural decision

to combine building systems provided structural

durability, privacy, openness and seismic isolation

while also minimizing onsite work. During

construction, light and open structurally independent

boxes framed in wood were manufactured offsite,

hoisted up into place and secured within the awaiting

array of concrete frames. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

7.3 A wooden framework bears directly on stone in this

preserved gassho-zukuri style minka farmhouse (Ogimachi

Village, Japan). The walls and foundation support a reed and

straw thatched roof. Copyrighted photo by Bernard Gagnon,

courtesy of the photographer

INTRODUCTION 201

The use of systems based on natural and regionally available building materials −

both field-assembled onsite and fabricated in local factories − has been declining for

several centuries. They have given way to systems based on synthesized or composite

materials that require equally new technologies of assembly. New systems incorporat-

ing new materials − reinforced concrete, extruded steel, aluminum, vinyl and other

plastics, structural glass panels and various composites, etc. − have joined or replaced

traditional stone, brick and wood construction. These global changes have accompa-

nied revolutions in structural analysis, fastening systems, adhesives, building produc-

tion and supply chains.

Two comparatively new materials now dominate stereotomic and tectonic building

systems in contemporary architecture: Reinforced concrete has supplanted the use

of traditional brick and stone, while steel has replaced older structural systems based

on wood.

The creation of uninterrupted large-scale open spans used to require massive arches,

domes, triangulated trusses or bents. Advanced materials, structural analysis and

engineering have now revolutionized the design of long-span architecture. Today, vast

unbroken spans have grown commonplace. Traditional structural configurations are

joined by vierendeel trusses, multi-story box beams, space frames, various tube and

tensile structures and any manner of laminated structural wood forms − from straight-

forward built-up beams to invented forms such as the elaborate roof brackets that hold

up the Council Chamber Roof at Alvar Aalto’s Säynätsalo Town Hall in Finland.

In short, change − both in contemporary materials, settings, uses and systems and

in the rules and social and technical organization of building − has transformed the

game. Architects still benefit from the traditional form making knowledge embedded

in ancient places and typologies that have persisted for hundreds or thousands of

years. However, the tight mutually defining bond between a people, its culture of build-

ing, primary building typology and chosen combination of architectural systems has

loosened. As in many non-architectural facets of life, we have moved from cultur-

ally prescribed one-size-fits-all solutions to open-ended mix-and-match pairings of

systems that are often market-driven. Together, these changes offer a previously

unimaginable palette of formal and technical possibilities.

Average building size, complexity, number of incorporated systems and performance

requirements have increased. The range of forms, options, assumptions, technolo-

gies and requirements is also different and greatly expanded. The increased variety of

systems and freedom to combine them demands a full understanding of the system-

atic nature of the art of building and hands-on mastery of the skills necessary to make

good form.

7.4 Long-span laminated wood beams. Caserne des

Pompiers (Fire Station), Limbourg, Belgium (1998).

Baumans-Deffet Architects. Copyrighted photo by

Alain Janssens, courtesy of the architect

202 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

Compose a number of built fields utilizing the depicted systems and incorporating a

planning grid to organize design. The goal is to create series of varied forms out of a

given combination of systems while respecting the architectural integrity and expres-

sion of each individual system.

Play 7

Stacking Systems

Base systems

Upper system: Steel frame

arrayed steel posts supporting beams above

Intermediate system: Prefabricated

reinforced concrete

Precast “table”: prefabricated column, beam and

topping slab assembly

Lower system: Cast-in-place concrete

pier/column/wall and beam assemblies

continuous concrete channels

reinforced slabs

grid

16' (4.8m) planning grid with 12' × 12' (3.6m × 3.6m)

zones and 4' (1.2m) margins

12'(3.6m)

4 '(1.2m)

.6m).6m).6m).6m)

.6m).6m).6m).6m)

PLAY 7 − STACKING SYSTEMS 203

RULES OF PLAY

Setting up play

• Start with the systems, zones and margins provided.

• Allow the form to build incrementally, rather than designing based on a predeter-

mined volumetric envelope.

Including and stacking systems

• Avoid changing the relative ascending order of lower, intermediate and upper

systems.

• Every play should incorporate the table system.

• For practical or architectural reasons, design may extraordinarily exclude either

other system in whole or part, particularly during your first play. The table system will

then function either as a lower system or as an upper system.

Adjusting systems

• The elevation height of the top of any building system may rise in whole or part to

accommodate changes in the ground form or to accommodate a particular served

space or use or elevate its importance.

• Conversely, stacked systems may compress down in total height. Two or even three

systems can exceptionally be stacked within a single story.

• More generally, bearing heights may freely move up or down within a single struc-

tural bay or even point-by-point.

Modifying design systems and elements

• Do not eliminate any margins.

• Freely extend the 7 × 7 module starting grid.

• Punched-hole openings of reasonable size may be introduced into concrete slabs

and channels.

• The kit of parts of the steel upper system may be expanded to incorporate a roofing

system.

Media and presentation

• Perform and present this play in the media of your choice.

• Compose a minimum of three plays.

• Your performance need not produce a functional building design; however, the step-

by-step final presentation should make sense as a narrative of making form.

• Any rules you have adopted for positioning parts and configurations in relation to

zoning should be self-evident in the final form.

• The final design of each layered system should work as an autonomous form with

its own architectural identity.

204 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

STRATEGIES

Expand form incrementally

Build form move by move, as opposed to creating an overall volume and infilling it.

Maximize the benefit of zones, margins and (perhaps) grids

Use building planning methods to rationalize and coordinate the juxtaposition of multi-

ple systems in three-dimensional space.

Use zones and grids strategically

Building planning and zoning grids are tools to achieve good form. Use them to the

extent that they help to achieve that purpose.

Adjust margins

Adjust and fine-tune the dimensions of the margins. Expand or contract them freely as

required: globally, in certain areas only or individually.

Stop and start systems as desired

Systems may exceptionally start and stop, appear and disappear. For instance, the

upper systems may be eliminated such that a lower system rises up to directly support

a roof; the steel frame upper system may exceptionally extend directly down to the

ground plane.

Decide how and where stacked systems meet

A great deal of the look and feel of design reflects the character of how and where

systems connect.

Refine systems based on use and placement

Refine the character of each system based on its function in the stacking sequence.

When lower systems carry loads, make them heavier. When systems form the top layer

of structure, consider making their structural elements lighter.

Explore unanticipated lateral connections

Vertically displacing zones of transition may sometimes build lateral connections

between hierarchically distinct systems. Explore the formal potential of such unantici-

pated connections.

In-Depth Considerations

IN-DEPTH CONSIDERATIONS 205

BEAR IN MIND

Building planning

The dimension of the planning module corresponds to the plan dimension of the prefab-

ricated square table structures of the intermediary system. Together, they establish the

dimensional range of a normative small-room-sized spatial module throughout the

built field. The tartan grid also incorporates margins that provide freedom and a rule

structure to guide you as you shift form horizontally to expand use areas and organize

dedicated three-dimensional space for a system of horizontal and vertical circulation.

Transitions between systems

Architectural systems tend to overlap, interact back and forth or interlock in zones

of transition. The location, character and extent of such zones will vary greatly. Their

design in plan, section or elevation helps to define architectural character.

Vertical transitions between stacked systems commonly occur along elevated hori-

zontal planes that correspond roughly to floor heights. Yet there are many variations:

The horizontal plane where upper and lower system meet can rise and fall to reflect

the spatial volume, use or symbolic importance of interior space, or simply to create

a powerful visual interlock. As the variety of conditions increases, so does the oppor-

tunity to articulate alternative details to accommodate fenestration, door openings,

changes in wall materials, etc.

Downward flow of force

As noted earlier, architecture often benefits from freeing up structural elements and

allowing them to adjust slightly at the edge of margins, rather than rigidly stacking

supporting members on each floor. Depending on the ability of the upper system to

transfer vertical loads and of the lower system’s elements to carry them, it may be

possible to position load-bearing columns without restriction within the upper configu-

ration, as when light wood framing bears upon a concrete waffle slab.

To shift or not to shift

Shifting primary building geometries, dimensions, grids and/or alignments is a power-

ful form making technique. It should be weighed carefully and used strategically. When

building forms shift, the inevitable break of interior planes, alignments and planning

zones at the point of inflection bears major design implications and creates complex-

ity. Its resolution echoes throughout all subsequent design, detailing and construction.

Secondary directions should be introduced in ways that avoid discontinuities which are

unintentionally jarring. Executed skillfully, such intensifications can convey significant

meaning and add richness.

206 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

The abstract form-making systems introduced in Play 7 provided the point of depar-

ture for this play. The individual and combined capacities and limits of the systems are

tested without particular regard to defining habitable spaces in a building.

The multiple systems and their elements freely shift in both plan and section. A broad

range of juxtapositions results. For example: In one area, the heavy lower system rises

up 2+ stories. Elsewhere, one table exceptionally bears directly upon the ground plane

with no intervening lower system. Zones, margins and grids help to rationalize and

coordinate the somewhat open-ended juxtaposition of systems in 3D.

Served space throughout the form is marked by vertical and/or horizontal transloca-

tions, often combined with the omission of some system components.

Sample Play 7.1

The Red Column House

SAMPLE PLAY 7.1 − THE RED COLUMN HOUSE 207

M4M3

M1 M2

208 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

For reasons of convention and commonsense, transitions between façade systems

commonly occur above the first or second story at about floor height. The vertical zone

of transition is generally marked on the façade by a change in cladding material, often

emphasized by a belt course.

Betanzos, a well-preserved capital city of the ancient Galician Empire, is renowned

for the architectural character of its combined façade glazing systems. The lower

system forms a stereotomic granite-and-masonry base. It builds upward, articulating

the ground form of each building. The lighter tectonic frameworks of white multi-story

glazed galleries are hung across the uppermost part of the building as a secondary

system. They start at the roofline, project outward beyond the plane of the façade and

extend downward one or more stories.

The zone of exchange between the two vertical systems varies from building to

building. As a rule, a vertical spatial connector between the two systems is intro-

duced: An ornate intermediary balcony with tall open space immediately overhead

is generally hung below the gallery. Spanning the width of the building, it provides a

material stop for the upward climb of the lower system. As a result, the two systems

never actually touch.

Throughout the varied designs, the two systems and their respective kits of parts and

rules hold constant.

Special Topic

Stacking façade systems

Betanzos, Galicia (Spain)

SPECIAL TOPICS 209

7.6 Descending vertical zones of transition

Photo © 1983 by Andrés Mignucci

7.5 Stacking of façade systems along a street

Measured documentation drawing © 1983 by Andrés

Mignucci and R. Thomas Hille

210 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

There is nothing accidental about forms in and around the historic Piazza della Signoria

and its immediate surroundings: Since its beginnings, the urban public space that

symbolizes the political, financial and military seat of power of the former Florentine

Republic has remained subject to constant design scrutiny and control. History, poli-

tics, internecine struggles, rising and falling fortunes and fashions are preserved in the

physical record of successive upgrades of its street façades.

Although transitions between heavy lower systems and light upper systems − and/or

between thicker and thinner structural elements − generally occur at floor level, the

building façades that surround the Piazza della Signoria tend to mark transitions 1-½

stories above ground, at the height of the windowsills. This marking may simply entail

the placement of a slender decorative belt course that interrupts a uniform continuous

surface extending from top to bottom. Or it may involve a transition from heavier to

lighter material, from rusticated to finer stone finishes, stucco or some other material.

At other times, the actual physical transition from heavier to lighter construction actu-

ally occurs at a different height, which may also be expressed in the façade.

From a systems perspective, the meaning of the transitions that are uniformly observ-

able throughout the Piazza della Signoria are often indeterminate: At times, they

signal profound changes in the building’s structural systems that ripple throughout the

façade, underlying structure and detailing. At other times, they are entirely unrelated

to systems or building structure, added to the façade simply to build urban continuity.

7.7 Palazzo Vecchio approach

Special Topic

Stacking façade systems

Piazza della Signoria Florence (12th century onward)

7.8 Façades along side street leading to the Palazzo

Vecchio

SPECIAL TOPICS 211

7.9 Piazza view to the northeast

Figs. 7.7–7.9 photos © 2012 Sam Teicher, courtesy of

the photographer

212 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

Special Topic

Combining tectonic and stereotomic systems

Casa De Blas Madrid, Spain (2000) Alberto Campo Baeza, Architect

Ancient builders often had recourse to few − if any − viable alternative combina-

tions of systems. Today, by contrast, advances in building engineering, technology

and material science, combined with the increasing variety and availability of systems,

often renders the selection a question of architectural expression. The Casa De Blas

stresses contrast and separation between superimposed tectonic and stereotomic

systems with a highly disciplined geometry. The first floor − an enclosed stereotomic

continuous surface geometry with minimal openings − contrasts with a top floor made

as light and transparent as possible, rendered in glass and steel.

7.12 Interior view of concrete base form

7.10 Exterior approach

Copyrighted photos by Hisao Suzuki, courtesy of

the architect

7.11 Interior view of terraced top floor

SPECIAL TOPICS 213

Sky Form System

Steel post and beam structure with glass infill

Ground Form System

Continuous surface masonry ground form structure with

punched-hole window openings

Elevation

The elevation shows the simple stacking of both

architectural systems − tectonic above and

stereotomic below.

7.14 Sky form and ground form plans and

side elevation. Copyrighted drawings

courtesy of the architect

7.13 Generative sketch diagrams. Copyrighted

drawings courtesy of the architect

~ f';' "uu.. do 7Tec.ro;Jl'C

11-< ~~c. + +t.c~t::

= .A- (I. ,{-H r;:-Cn V It f'

~~c.~~c.~~c.

~~c.~~c.

~~c.~~c.

~~c. ~~c.~~c.

~~c. ~~c.~~c.

~~c. ~~c.~~c.

~~c.

~~c.~~c.

~~c.~~c.

~~c.

~~c.

~~c.

~~c.

214 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

Architecture sometimes combines vertical stacking of multiple building systems with

horizontal layering of different systems. Continuous juxtaposition and interaction of

systems generates a three-dimensional built field, in which multiple systems jointly

define overlapping zones of territory, use and circulation and jointly create closure and

position wall openings, passages and transitions.

In the context of rocky, wooded, somewhat sloping terrain, Maurice Smith’s Blackman

House No. 1 reframes the age-old dialogue between stone foundational form and shel-

tering timber frame. Operating at a residential scale, it suggests the potential inherent

in stepwise juxtaposition of free flowing yet highly ordered arrays of systems orches-

trated by a single designer.

At ground level, a perimeter of massive single or stacked granite slabs begins to define

a built field. It partially encloses a freeform arrangement of variable height base walls

of concrete block. The granite walls subsequently become exterior site walls while the

block walls begin to act as lower system walls that define building spaces. They also

provide bearing for light wooden frames that are perched entrepreneurially above.

Roofs and various varieties of screens then complete the definition of space horizon-

tally and vertically. In providing closure, they define inside and outside, while filtering or

framing natural light and views to the broader landscape.

Blackman House presents a highly structured aggregation of smaller, partial and

somewhat autonomous moves. The built-up form is organized and unified by a subtle

underlying 4' (1.2 m) design grid and by the continued repetition of key dimensions

and of design motifs that recur at multiple scales.

Special Topic

Combining tectonic and stereotomic systems

Blackman House No. 1 Groton, Massachusetts (1963) Maurice K. Smith, Architect

7.15 Exterior view showing three principal systems −

granite, concrete block and wood frame

structures. Copyrighted photo courtesy of

Henry Plummer

SPECIAL TOPICS 215

7.18 Diagram illustrating underlying 4' (120cm)

planning grid. Copyrighted sketch courtesy

of the architect

7.16 Ground Form System

Granite and masonry block continuous

surface structure

7.17 Secondary System

Wooden post and beam structure

Copyrighted drawings illustrating ground form and

secondary system bearing upon primary system

by Andrés Mignucci, based on drawings by the

architect

216 COMBINING SYSTEMS AND CONTROLLING COMPLEXITY

7.20 Interior at twilight. Copyrighted photo by

Henry Plummer, courtesy of the photographer

7.19 Framed view. Copyrighted photo by

Maurice K. Smith from the Intrinsic Attributes

of Built Form Assemblage special library

collection of MIT Dome digitized content,

courtesy of the architect

SPECIAL TOPICS 217

Special Topic

Building the connections between systems

How built forms join and connect major systems is a defining characteristic of their

architecture. Designing the material and spatial character of those connections poses

a considerable detailing challenge and opportunity.

One notable architectural detailing approach to bringing together two systems is to

use an intermediary spatial connector: The systems remain physically separate. They

are bridged by a third mediating system, a spacer that provides a common interface

while also contrasting differences between the two primary systems. This is a particu-

larly useful form-making strategy in distinguishing what is old and what is new when

making additions and alterations to existing buildings.

Another design approach consists of creating “passing connections” in which each

primary system briefly connects with the other then continues through, as when beams

extend through and beyond tall bearing walls or split columns.

7.22 Horizontal and vertical passing connections are

both visible in this light structural framework of oak.

Blackman House No. 2, Manchester, Massachusetts,

USA (1993). Maurice K. Smith, Architect. Photo ©

1993 Barry Zevin, from the Intrinsic Attributes of Built

Form Assemblage special library collection of MIT

Dome digitized content, courtesy of the photographer

7.21 Intermediary spatial connectors highlight the

horizontal and vertical structural connections of

beams that support the canopy. Ecole Fonds-de-

Loup, Andrimont, Belgium (2000). Baumans-Deffet

Architecture et Urbanisme, Architect. Note as well

the passing connections of the wooden rafters and

purlins that bear upon the steel beams. Copyrighted

photo by Alain Janssens, courtesy of the architect

218

0.28 Exterior wall detail. The Kolumba, Cologne (2007)

Peter Zumthor, Architect. Copyrighted photo by

Andrés Mignucci

219

As architects, our form making visions negotiate between buildability and what is already

in place. Such constraints do not represent intrinsically opposing forces. Together, they

can actually open the floodgates of creativity and beneficially direct the flow of struc-

turing ideas, spatial concepts and forms.

Constraints in the academic design studio are often artful recipes, combining an

implicit theoretical stance, a site, a context, a rudimentary program and perhaps a

touch of building code and zoning. Professional practice multiplies those constraints.

Zoning laws, existing conditions above and below ground, politicians, building industry

conventions, multiple interleaved or overlapping planning and building codes, addi-

tional laws and regulations, complex clients and neighborhood groups, engineers,

financiers, insurers, budgets, programmers, builders, markets, schedules, etc. may all

shape design.

Constraints represent structures that are present in a given place, forces that are

not under the designer’s control. The hands-on knack of architecture is in large part

a question of becoming expert in improvisational and additive design: in building a

creative vision upon pre-existing structures and layers, within existing frameworks not

of one’s own creation, then adjusting and transforming them in unanticipated ways. An

architect at his or her best must be a pragmatic poet.

Thematic design recognizes additional constraints: It first seeks to observe the living

fabric of everyday environment, its rich underlying legacy of architectural, construc-

tional, territorial, sociocultural and historical structures and how they continue to

evolve. Not simply in an abstract academic or theoretical way, but in ways that directly

apply to design and form making. It challenges us to create architecture that smartly

and purposefully serves not just ourselves, our profession and our clients, but the built

environment as the essential, dynamic and complex collective setting of our lives.

Building Upon What is There

Afterword

220 AFTERWORD

This book about composing form has focused on observing and working with different

varieties of design frameworks − armatures that can directly structure the making of

buildings at varied scales through a sequential process of transformation. The specific

ways in which buildings, configurations, systems, assemblies and parts connect and

how many different dispersed and diverse groups of designers assemble the design,

how they choose to layer in what is already in place and how they design the physical

assemblies that define the architecture are no less important.

Physical assemblies

From large-scale territory down to architectural detailing, the physical, systemic and/or

operational transitions where systems, configurations and parts come together locate

the bounds of autonomous units of potential transformation. In essence, the place-

ment, coordination and detailing of such environmental assemblages (assemblies,

interfaces or joints) set the parameters of subsequent change. Those parameters in

turn determine the ease and pace of change. Like control joints in concrete or snap

connectors in a children’s building set, they define places where transformation and

evolution can occur by design.

They also delineate the limits of building maintenance, rehabilitation, restoration and

repurposing. They often dictate how systems, parts and materials are repaired or

demolished, recycled or discarded. For these reasons, as increasing varieties of tech-

nical systems with vastly different useful life cycles are incorporated into architecture,

buildings and spaces must be primed for change.

Within each building, the boundaries, types of connections and degree of separa-

tion that transitional spatial connectors establish at every level of built environment

ultimately determine whether individual forms, systems and networks can freely trans-

form and adapt to changing uses, specifications, times and urban conditions. They

predetermine each building’s useful life and the freedom of others to transform it

throughout its existence.

Layers of intervention

The built environment represents a series of layered interventions. No one starts with

a totally clean slate, no one designs forward in complete isolation and control. Whether

other built forms are close or distant, ancient or subsequent − and whether they form

part of our own intervention, structure it or parallel it − what we design shares the built,

historical and sociocultural landscape with other eras, projects and designers.

Bringing Form Together −

Assemblages, Layers and Frameworks

BRINGING FORM TOGETHER − ASSEMBLAGES, LAYERS AND FRAMEWORKS 221

Every design − willingly or unwillingly − is framed by that pre-existing context. Its complex

structure has evolved and differentiated over millennia in order to permit growth, renewal

and sustainable transformation to occur at distinct levels and time frames. At the same

time, each new intervention becomes a framework for future interventions by others.

Some may be prominent, others quiet, subtle and anonymous. Nonetheless, the built

environment is the product of countless hands shaping context, purpose and meaning

within a dynamic process back and forth through time.

The question is what we choose to do with that understanding and how, among so

many alternative precedents, we address what is already in place.

222 AFTERWORD

URBAN LEVEL

Diocletian’s Palace, the Cathedral of St. Gallen and any number of great Roman

arenas illustrate the varied transformation over time of non-thematic architecture that

is built on a grand urban scale for a very precise initial purpose. As a rule, even such

monofunctional monumental forms are absorbed into the surrounding built fabric over

the centuries. Eventually, they serve as the foundation layer and context of endless

subsequent interventions over time.

The process can also reverse over time, as in Jerusalem. There, many thematic build-

ings that have grown up over the centuries around historical sites have been demol-

ished, the better to connect the modern city to its sacred ancient sites.

At other times, the vestiges of the original structures disappear, recycled and reab-

sorbed into the everyday built environment. Yet their urban imprint remains: a clear

objective correlative of building upon structures that are already in place, designing

within the context previously created by other designers.

0.29 Ruins of the original palace 0.30 Superimposition of the existing urban fabric

(red) upon the original palace (black). The

vestiges of Diocletian’s Palace eventually served as

a base form for a succession of interventions. Over

the centuries, it was gradually transformed into a

dense urban fabric.

Diocletian’s Palace. Split (Spalato), Croatia (ad 305)

Copyrighted drawings by Andrés Mignucci based on an

original documentation drawing (1764) by Robert Adam

BRINGING FORM TOGETHER − ASSEMBLAGES, LAYERS AND FRAMEWORKS 223

0.32 Roman amphitheater continuing to shape

buildings and public space. Lucca, Italy

Aerial view © 2013 Google Image / Digital Globe

0.31 Roman amphitheater absorbed into urban

fabric. Florence. Copyrighted drawing based on

a 1924 drawing by Corinto Corinti from Urban

Transformations by Rodrigo Pérez de Arce, courtesy

of the author

224 AFTERWORD

BUILDING LEVEL

After careful evaluation, the ruins of two ancient stone farmhouses on a hill were

spared demolition. However, they were not absorbed into the new building structure

onsite. Instead, a new and physically, systemically and visually distinct architectural

core was inserted into their midst.

Two very different systems of walls serve as integral parts of the resulting compos-

ite form. They are similarly stuccoed and painted white in the spirit of the vernacular

architecture of southern Portugal. Nonetheless, the two systems reflect the design

sensibility, architecture and construction of vastly different approaches set in different

eras. The vestigial stereotomic stone walls express the direct flow of structural forces

to the ground. By contrast, the contemporary design of the architect’s intervention in

reinforced concrete freely expresses itself in large cantilevers.

In the resulting dialogue between systems, forms, styles and eras, the juxtaposed

ancient perimeter walls and contemporary core never actually touch.

0.33 Site plan with ruin indicated in red. Copyrighted

drawing courtesy of the architect

0.34 Old (left) and new (right) are juxtaposed to form a unique new

whole. Photo © Daniel Malhão, courtesy of the architect

Casa em Alenquer, Portugal (2001). Aires Mateus, Architect

BRINGING FORM TOGETHER − ASSEMBLAGES, LAYERS AND FRAMEWORKS 225

0.37 Photo. The wall to the left is part of the original ruin.

Photo © Daniel Malhão, courtesy of the architect

0.35 Ruins prior to intervention. Photo © Francisco

Aires Mateus, courtesy of the architect

0.36 Sections. The original walls are indicated in red.

Copyrighted drawings courtesy of the architect

226 AFTERWORD

INFILL LEVEL

Within Carlo Scarpa’s architectural interventions in rich historical and formal contexts

such as the Querini Stampalia Foundation and Olivetti Showroom in Venice and the

Castelvecchio Museum in Verona, the idea of building layered conversations between

forms across the centuries is brought down to the scale of materials and detailing. The

designs physically express the idea of building upon the past and of intervening at a

fine-grained human scale.

Carlo Scarpa’s intervention in history rejects walling over the past, period restoration or

appropriation, imitation or mannerist reinvention of archaic styles. Instead, his design

celebrates history as backdrop and context. In bold and unapologetic contrast to its

pre-existing physical context, his intervention celebrates both what is old and what is

new, painstakingly intertwining a new layer of form with what is already in place.

His strategy for weaving disparate eras into a coherent whole relies to a great extent on

building transitional connectors to serve as zones of transition. Form moves between

the ancient and the new within three-dimensional margins in which intensive juxtapo-

sition and resolution of contrasting spaces, shapes, materials, geometries, textures

and styles occurs.

To strengthen the connection between disparate spatial and configurational design

elements within those spatial transitions, the architect selectively introduces physi-

cal and visual interlock within a zone of intensive back-and-forth exchange between

old and new forms. The fine-grained material surfaces are bathed in carefully shaped

direct and indirect lighting, surrounded by meticulously detailed material connections.

In the museum, the design of the form is interwoven with its contents, echoing its

precious materials, artifacts, art and sculpture.

In sum, Scarpa’s design approach intimately builds upon the traces of past interven-

tions. Each intervention − including Scarpa’s own − articulates a physical connection

to the past while remaining faithful to its own time. The result is an ongoing conversa-

tion between forms across the centuries.

BRINGING FORM TOGETHER − ASSEMBLAGES, LAYERS AND FRAMEWORKS 227

0.38 Interior. Palazzo Querini Stampalia, Venice (1952)

Carlo Scarpa, Architect. Copyrighted photo by

Christian Kerber, reprinted with permission

0.39 Exterior detail. Olivetti Showroom, Venice (1958)

Carlo Scarpa, Architect. Photo by Seier + Seier,

licensed under Creative Commons 2.0

228 AFTERWORD

FRAMEWORKS

Context

In the design studio, design within existing sites provides a carefully bounded simulation

that is intended to represent a much broader realm of complex contextual frameworks

and constraints. History, existing conditions, geo-climatic forces and, above all, histori-

cal vestiges serve as metaphors: Every act of environmental design is contextual.

This reality has been observed with ambivalence as far back as Andrea Palladio, whose

copious and painstaking illustrations omit any hint of surrounding buildings, vestiges

of buildings or other urban structures or fabric. In practical terms, context presented

no problem for Palladio, who built his reputation designing freestanding villas for the

landed gentry of the Veneto. Nor was it a problem for generations of architects who

followed: Until the late 19th century, architects and their powerful clients simply didn’t

concern themselves with the everyday built fields surrounding Architecture, let alone

intervene in their creation.

Systems

The environmental coherence that we observe and experience is the product of recur-

ring patterns, forms, systems and other structures and forms of social agreement.

Together, they create an armature that allows us to build form of an agreed-upon

character and establish each fabric of place.

Systems, their capacity and juxtaposition in three-dimensional space are therefore

key. They scaffold form, guiding it and allowing it to grow in an organized fashion, while

also separating various parts. The goal is often to orchestrate how domains of control,

systems, configurations and parts are brought together while maintaining appropriate

degrees of separation. Nonetheless, the surrounding issues are not technical. They

concern building with common understanding.

Coordinated transformation sequences are vehicles of growth, maintenance, repair and

evolution within the built environment. They embody agreement about how to transform

what is already in place, while establishing open frameworks for others who follow.

THEMATIC DESIGN AT THE DAWN OF A NEW MILLENNIUM 229

Increasingly over the past several centuries, the game, rules, playing field and scale of

architecture have changed. Among the changes:

• Buildings and their production are more complex.

• Although we still refer to monolithic built fields of any size as buildings, their scale of

intervention now often effectively straddles the urban and building levels.

• Buildings are now networked and technically complex.

• They require highly coordinated design across many distinct disciplines.

• No one designs alone.

• Multi-party design often takes place asynchronously in dispersed locations.

• The design, manufacture and assembly of buildings are now systems-based and

occur in distinct spheres of production.

In the 21st century, the tools and approach popularized by Palladio continue to work

well … up to a certain point and scale. But the design methods and tool kit assembled

in the Renaissance and further refined through the Beaux Arts era and the Modern

Movement also have both a scalar limit and a threshold of complexity beyond which

they cease to work.

In pre-modern Paris or Rome, we observe occasional singular non-thematic buildings

or squares or formal avenues interspersed within a continuous built field. Within block

after block of everyday thematic urban fabric, adjacent buildings of a similar type often

start out alike. The accumulated differences grow more pronounced over the years, as

each building grows and adapts. The buildings and units are by definition sustainable:

They have continued to grow, transform and renew themselves and their urban context

decade after decade. Their unit interiors also grow more varied.

Such persistence is no accident: It is the product of a design ethos and organizational

approach developed over millennia to accommodate, structure and carefully bound

change across systems, environmental levels, disciplines and timescales. At the time of

Vitruvius, Rome − a city of 1,000,000 inhabitants − was filled with diverse units through-

out its fabric of mixed-use urban courtyard villas and 5- and 6-story walk up insulae.

In the 21st century, we design and build with countless advances. Yet we have grown

incapable of producing vital variety at the scale of our buildings, of designing 50 or 100

or 1500 custom units in any single building, in ways that offer residential tenants the

potential level of accommodation and customization built-into the fabric of the insulae

and tabernae of ancient Rome’s fine-grained mixed-use fabric.

Thematic Design at the Dawn of a New Millennium

230 AFTERWORD

The chapters and plays of this book ultimately converge at one question:

Historically, how have large, complex, vital and sustainable built fields come into being

under the hands of multiple players, and what has changed?

The answer bring us full circle to once more observing long-term patterns of environ-

mental transformation.

Buildings that bridge the urban and building levels of the built environment

Urban-scale buildings − train stations, exhibition halls, covered markets, factories and

institutional buildings − grew commonplace in the 19th century. Servicing them within

expanding cities required branching urban networks of utilities: Modern versions of

the roads, aqueducts, viaducts, storm and wastewater sewer systems and indoor heat-

ing and plumbing that had served Imperial Rome were joined by electricity, gas, tele-

graph, telephone, air conditioning, security, LANs and Internet connectivity, etc.

The new building types, their scale of intervention and inclusion of increasing numbers

of utility networks embodied overarching changes in society, in its hierarchical, techni-

cal and social organization and scale. Development planning for such large projects

involved financial, social and technical infrastructures, interest groups, hierarchies

workforces, costs and levels of coordination commonly associated with urban design.

For many reasons, buildings whose scale bridges architecture and urban design

were rare in the past. They now account for the majority of investment in professional

architecture, its design and construction. Vast and ever-changing networks of service

systems within operate at multiple environmental levels in service to increasingly

mobile tenants. And, of course, sustainability, conservation, resource management

and stewardship are fundamental issues on a planet inhabited by more than seven

billion people. All of this requires buildings and systems that are more open-ended,

coordinated and choreographed than in the past.

STRUCTURED OBSERVATION 231

This concluding observational research occurs at the urban scale. It is intended for

group performance.

Procedure

• Observe and record change in a vibrant, thriving everyday neighborhood that you like −

one that has accumulated layers of interventions large and small over successive eras.

• Observe the broad characteristic outlines of its structure and fabric. At what intersec-

tions of levels, forms, systems and elements does transformation typically occur? What

consistent structural patterns does it reveal?

• If possible, interview local residents about the neighborhood’s key characteristics and

most desirable elements.

• Record your observations − including the neighborhood’s defining building patterns,

types and systems.

• After your observation is concluded, analyze and summarize the inherent capacity and

potential for future change of the neighborhood, the block and the individual buildings.

• Present your findings.

Focus

• Focus on the physical evidence of dialogue between evolving everyday life, physical

form and numerous designers.

• Observe in particular, the zone that extends from the façade to the street curb, and

from street level upward for 1–2 stories.

• Pay particular attention to architectural systems as coherent autonomous units of

design intervention that reveal change.

• Try to observe transformation through the lens of the seven preceding plays.

Questions

What systemic similarities extend across multiple buildings?

What particular combinations of systems are most evident?

What signs reveal the hierarchical relationship between various systems (i.e., which

systems, when changed, force other systems to change)?

What combinations of factors make a given urban district, street, building complex or

individual building desirable?

Structured Observation

Looking for signs

232 AFTERWORD

How many of the contributing factors you have identified have little or nothing to do with

aesthetic design?

What, in spite of messy vitality and variation, keeps the urban fabric coherent?

What universal characteristics do even relatively disparate forms share in common?

Which combinations of systems embody local and cultural preferences?

What physical signs point to different individuals electing to build and/or inhabit space

in similar ways?

What changes over time occur primarily in response to inhabitation, rather than techni-

cal obsolescence or wear and tear?

Take it to the next step

• Observe a collection of large new buildings with some architectural merit, buildings

that straddle the building and urban scale. They will most likely be located outside

the historic city center.

• Proceed to document those buildings in the same manner as above, looking for

signs of underlying structure revealed by transformation.

• Compare and contrast the qualities and capacities for accommodation and transfor-

mation of the two fabrics.

• During almost a century of research and practice, a vast and quite varied body of

knowledge has emerged regarding alternative ways to organize building design

processes and methods, and to construct buildings and details in ways that foster

lower level bottom-up freedom to build and increase capacity for tenant-generated

unit-by-unit customization. Identify and research some of the milestone projects and

the innovations they incorporate.

BEYOND CONVERSATIONS WITH FORM 233

Historically, the design and production of form has been primarily shaped not by indi-

vidual vision, but by interwoven and overlapping hierarchical constructional, sociocul-

tural and territorial structures and systems networks.

The smaller-scale and finer-grained environmental fabrics of prior eras were intrinsi-

cally structured to accommodate design by many players − simultaneously or asyn-

chronously, side by side or remotely, on the same environmental level or on vastly

different levels − each within a bounded framework established on a higher level. One

major task of higher-level intervention consisted of defining the bounds of lower level

space within a creative framework, setting key parameters and constraints while leav-

ing creative completion of lower level design at the level of inhabitation open-ended.

Hierarchical dialogue at the points of intersection between the urban and building

levels and between the building and infill levels played an essential role in creating

well-ordered, sustainable, vital and accommodating buildings.

As individual building projects and their individually selected forms, configurations,

materials and systems approach the urban scale, their design processes and patterns

of design control frequently embody innately institutional − rather than environmental

− structures. The design of such buildings now primarily reflects a combination of top-

down decisions, regulatory control and market factors. As a result, spaces, façades,

built-up virtual urban structures, building types, forms and articulating details have

ceased to reflect a mosaic of acts of transformation at multiple levels.

Where essential bottom-up local building types and patterns, local thematic character

and environmental variety dwindle, the architecture that replaces them is not vital, in a

very literal sense: Smaller-scale variations in such urban-scale building forms reflect

an individual signature, not the additive effects of change wrought by everyday life and

its actors.

The larger context of thematic design

Conversations With Form has introduced a thematic design approach and accompa-

nying tools for the design of buildings. Throughout this book, design play has focused

on solo design, honing observational skills and discrete individual skills in crafting form.

The plays extend roughly up to the scale at which a single designer can convincingly

execute a complete building design.

Most architects in contemporary practice work at a somewhat larger scale, within a

process of environmental intervention that has been restructured to parallel top-down

management structures. There are clear advantages and efficiencies to working this

way at the new scale of society; and it enables the structure of architecture firms to

interface well with the structure of their institutional clients.

Beyond Conversations With Form

234 AFTERWORD

However, the most crucial scale at which environmental variety is created is the

human scale, the lower level that throughout the history of the built environment has

introduced vital bottom-up creativity and much-needed variation in order to human-

ize design. When individual designers lose the ability to design freely within expertly

conceived and bounded design frameworks and when inhabitants and end-users can

no longer customize their own environments, spaces and details become stereotypical,

repetitive, standardized and interchangeable. With each degree of separation between

those who shape and control design and those who actually execute the hands-on

design on a given environmental level, architecture grows increasingly constricted,

coarse, rigid and unresponsive. Carefully designed model solutions for individual

rooms, wings or floors are copied and pasted, replicated, arrayed and/or extruded

throughout a vast three-dimensional field with little or no differentiation for particu-

lar inhabitants or end-users or accommodation for particular uses, needs or prefer-

ences. The underlying physical, technical and social organization of design frequently

prevents or discourages individualization.

Methodological frameworks

Which aspects of standard studio project design methods transfer seamlessly to the

design of urban-scale collective form?

Where and how do those methods break down?

In the 21st century, how can we design, build and nurture fabrics that are as accom-

modating and enabling as the most beloved cities, towns, neighborhoods, buildings and

individual dwellings handed down to us from past eras − without sacrificing our current

gains or restructuring society?

If designers are to once more jointly create vital and sustainable buildings at the new

scale of intervention, we must once again share certain bottom line assumptions and

agreements about form and how to build upon what is already in place, utilizing certain

additional tools and design methods. Taken together, the specific methods that allow

designers to create complex and open-ended multi-level built environment in theme

and variation, within the broader context and timeframes of social, physical, territorial

and technical structures, can pave the way for common understanding and mastery.

The environmental impact of thematic design is most evident at the urban scale of

contemporary buildings. That scale at which most investment in professional architec-

ture now occurs, is the point at which this part of the story concludes. The painstak-

ing choreography necessary to synchronize so many performers makes the need for

rationalized coordination of design unequivocal:

It requires appropriate design methods.

And that is the point.

BEYOND CONVERSATIONS WITH FORM 235

In a 21st century world of architecture whose hands-on practice would be unrecogniz-

able to Imhotep, Vitruvius, Palladio or even Frank Lloyd Wright, the tools and methods

of thematic design ultimately work toward re-establishing the natural and historical

relationship between individual and place. Their aim is to help restore both harmony

and variety throughout urban fields and from building to building; to create long-lived

places that current inhabitants or designers who follow may also freely transform; to

allow each set of hands to join in; to shape a larger built environment that is far more

than the sum of its parts.

236

0.40 Factory, single-family and multifamily housing

and mixed use along a canal, Amsterdam.

Copyrighted photo by Andrés Mignucci

237

Consider this hypothetical scenario:

You have demonstrated exceptional design ability and hands-on understanding of

thematic design methods, skills and tools, appropriately drawing upon observed prece-

dent in designing forward without nostalgia within existing urban fabric. The Redevelop-

ment Authority you first encountered at the begining of the book has accordingly invited

you to compete for a mixed-use project that bridges the building and urban scales: The

Planning Office and neighborhood coalition of stakeholders have approved plans to

demolish early 20th century buildings along the banks of an unspecified canal, consoli-

date lots and create a mixed-use project beyond the urban core. The architecture must:

• reflect an unapologetically contemporary sensibility, sustainability and urban approach;

• anticipate, accommodate, adjust, adapt and evolve in response to accelerating change

in urban patterns, demographics, tenants, uses, lifestyles and expectations; and

• fit in with the historic neighborhood and fabric. Co-existing is not enough: It must build

upon, repair and extend rather than diminish neighborhood coherence.

In addition:

• The new building complex must be designed and constructed to last 100–200 years.

• It must possess strong architectural character inside and out.

• Each custom unit will be created by a different designer with a great deal of freedom.

• Demised premises will expand and contract throughout the life of the building. Uses,

sizes, layouts and systems must remain continuously changeable.

• Interiors must be able to freely and independently change at will. Work involving the

walls, systems, appliances, fixtures etc. of individual tenancies must be self-contained:

Routinely reconfiguring, maintaining, upgrading or replacing room layouts, partitions,

systems or fixtures must never prove unviable or impact abutting units.

What additional background − specific hands-on methods and skills, discrete bodies of

knowledge, etc. − will you build upon to succeed in this large-scale intervention?

How will you structure the project and process to integrate the work of many hands

working at varied levels and time frames throughout design and construction?

How will the design actively promote fine-grained bottom-up variety and continuous

change created by individual tenants and inhabitants?

To what extent will variety within be expressed in the public face of the complex?

Should individual units be able to grow out beyond, customize or mark façades? If so,

how will they accomplish this physically and what are the implications?

Closing Scenario

This page intentionally left blank

ADDITIONAL READING 239

Additional Reading

Related publications by N. John Habraken

Habraken, N. John, General Principles about the Way Built Environments Exist. Open House Blue Cover

Booklet Issue 1. Eindhoven: SAR, 1979

“Notes of a Traveler: On the dilemmas of the researcher in architectural design methodology,” Journal

of Architectural Education, 32, 4–7. Washington, D.C.: Association of Collegiate Schools of Architecture,

1979

with J. A. Aldrete-Haas, R. Chow, T. Hille, P. Krugmeier, M. Lampkin, A. Mallows, A. Mignucci, Y.

Takase, K. Weller and T. Yokouchi, The Grunsfeld Variations: A demonstration project on the coordination

of a design team in urban design. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Grunsfeld Foundation / MIT Laboratory of

Architecture & Planning, 1981

Transformations of the Site. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Awater Press, 1983

The Appearance of the Form: Four essays on the position designing takes between people and things.

2nd edition. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Awater Press, 1985

“Reconciling variety and efficiency in large-scale projects,” in Large Housing Projects: Design,

Technology, and Logistics: Designing in Islamic Cultures 5, Margaret Bentley Sevcenko, editor, 46–53.

Cambridge, Massachusetts: Aga Khan Project for Islamic Architecture, 1985

“The Control of Complexity,” Places, 4 (2), 3–15, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1987

“Control Hierarchies in Complex Artifacts,” Proceedings, Conference on Planning and Design in

Architecture. Jean-Pierre Protzen, editor. Boston: International Congress on Planning and Design Theory,

1987

edited by Jonathan Teicher, The Structure of the Ordinary: Form and Control in the Built Environment.

Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1998

“Type as a Social Agreement,” Proceedings of the Third Asian Congress of Architects. Seoul: Third

Asian Congress of Architects, Nov. 1988

“Tools of the Trade: Thematic Aspects of Designing.” Draft report. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT

Department of Architecture, 1995. Available for download at www.habraken.com

edited by Jonathan Teicher, Palladio’s Children: Essays on Everyday Environment and the Architect,

London: Taylor & Francis, 2005

and Mignucci, Andrés, with an introduction by Josep Maria Montaner and Zaida Muxi, Supports:

Housing and City. Barcelona: Fundación Politécnica de Catalunya, 2009

240 ADDITIONAL READING

Recommended background reading – general reference and topical

Alexander, Christopher, A Pattern Language: Towns, buildings, construction. New York: Oxford University

Press, 1964

Bachelard, Gaston, Poetics of Space. Boston: Beacon Press, 1994

Davis, Howard, The Culture of Building. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006

De Quincy, Quatremere, A. C., translated by Samir Younés, The Historical Dictionary of Architecture. London:

Andreas Papadakis, 1999

Frampton, Kenneth, Studies in Tectonic Culture: The poetics of construction in nineteenth and twentieth

century architecture. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1995

Hertzberger, Herman, Lessons for Students in Architecture. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 1991

Space and the Architect: Lessons for students in architecture 2. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 2000

Palladio, Andrea, The Four Books on Architecture, translated by Robert Tavernor and Richard Schofield.

Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1997

Plummer, Henry, The Architecture of Natural Light. New York: Monacelli Press, 2009

Rapoport, Amos, House Form and Culture. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1969

Rudofsky, Bernard, Architecture Without Architects: A short introduction to non-pedigreed architecture.

Albuquerque, New Mexico: University of New Mexico Press, 1987

Schön, Donald A., The Reflective Practitioner: How professionals think in action, London: Temple Smith, 1983

Vitruvius Pollio, Marcus, translated by Morris Hicky Morgan, The Ten Books on Architecture. Minneola, New

York: Courier Dover Publications, 1960

Readings cited or implicitly referenced, by chapter of first mention

INTRODUCTION

Andrade, Jorge, Santamaría, Rodolfo and Govela, Alfonso, “Transformación de un entorno urbano: Santa

Ursula 1950–1977” in Arquitectura y Sociedad, no. 10, 27–31. México, D. F. : Universidad AutoÌnoma

Metropolitana, 1978

Brand, Stewart. How Buildings Learn: What happens after they’re built. USA: Viking/Penguin, 1994

Chastain, Thomas and Chow, Renee, “Observations of Turfan,” Places 4 (2), 21–32. Cambridge,

Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1987

Dubiez, F. J., Cornelis Anthoniszoon van Amsterdam: Zijn leven en werken ca. 1507–1553 [Cornelis

Anthoniszoon of Amsterdam: His life and works ca. 1507–1553]. Amsterdam: H. D. L’fann, 1969

Letarouilly, Paul Marie, Edifices de Rome Moderne. Paris: Bance, 1860

Olson, Charles, The Collected Poems of Charles Olson. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987

Perec, Georges, Species of Spaces and Other Pieces. London: Penguin Classics, 1989

ADDITIONAL READING 241

Reps, John W., Cities of the American West: A history of frontier urban planning. Princeton, New Jersey:

Princeton University Press, 1972

Pérez de Arce, Rodrigo, Urban Transformations. London: Architectural Association Publications, 1980

van Rooijen, A., De Oude Kerk te Amsterdam in vogelvlucht (A Bird’s Eye View of The Old Church of

Amsterdam). Amsterdam: Stichting Oude Kerk te Amsterdam,1985

CHAPTER 1

Benjamin, Asher, The American Builder’s Companion. Mineola, New York: Dover, 2009

Carver Jr., Norman, Japanese Folkhouses. Kalamazoo, Michigan: Documan Press,1984

CHAPTER 2

Frings, Marcus, “The Golden Section in Architectural Theory,” Nexus Network Journal, vol. 4 no. 1, 9–32.

Florence: Nexus Network Journal, 2002

Hille, R. Thomas, Understanding and Transforming What’s There: A look at the formal rule structure of the

residential façade zone in Victorian San Francisco. MIT thesis. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT, 1982

Le Corbusier, The Modulor: A Harmonious Measure to the Human Scale Universally Applicable to Architecture

and Mechanics. Basel & Boston: Birkhäuser, 2004

Mignucci, Andrés, Projective Architecture: Studies toward the meaning and generative language of associative

built form. MIT thesis. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT, 1982

Moudon, Anne Vernez, Built for Change: Neighborhood architecture in San Francisco, Cambridge,

Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1989

Neufert, Ernst. Vincent Jones, general editor. Architects’ Data, Second (International) English edition. Oxford:

Blackwell Scientific Publications, 1980

Zeising, Adolf, Neue Lehre von den Proportionen des menschlichen Körpers: aus einem bisher unerkannt

gebliebenen, die ganze natur und kunst durchdringenden morphologischen grundgesetze entwickelt und mit

einer volständigen historischen uebersicht der bisherigen systeme begleitet [New Theory of Proportions of the

Human Body: Developed from previously unrecognized basic laws of morphology throughout nature and art,

accompanied by a full historical overview of the previous systems]. Leipzig: R. Weigel, 1854

CHAPTER 4

Bosma, Koos, van Hoogstraten, Dorine and Vos, Martijn, Housing for the Millions: John Habraken and the SAR

(1960–2000). Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2000

Price, Lorna, The Plan of St. Gall in Brief: An overview of the three-volume work by Walter Horn and Ernest

Born. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982

Sheine, Judith, R. M. Schindler. London: Phaidon Press, 2001

Stichting Architecten Research (SAR) [Foundation for Architects’ Research], SAR65. Eindhoven: SAR, 1979

Toker, Franklin, Fallingwater Rising: Frank Lloyd Wright, E. J. Kaufmann, and America’s most extraordinary

house. New York: Knopf, 2007

242 ADDITIONAL READING

CHAPTER 6

Carver, Norman F., Jr., Form and Space in Japanese Architecture. Kalamazoo, Michigan: Documan Press, 1993

Cipriani, Giovanni Battista, Monumenti di fabbriche antiche estratti dai disegni dei piu celebri autori. Tomo III.

Rome: [s.n.], 1803

Engel, Heinrich, The Japanese House: A Tradition for Contemporary Architecture. North Clarendon, Vermont:

Charles E. Tuttle, 1964

Eliot, Thomas Stearns, “Hamlet and his problems,” The Sacred Wood. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1921

Rotne, Georg K. S. Da Verden var Ung: Modernisme og industriel arkitektur i Frankrig. Copenhagen:

Kunstakademiets Arkitektskoles Forlag [Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, School of Architecture Press],

2012

Sergeant, John, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Usonian Houses: The case for organic architecture. New York: Whitney

Library of Design, 1976

Frank Lloyd Wright’s Usonian Houses: Designs for moderate cost one-family homes. New York:

Watson-Guptill, 1984

Semper, Gottfried, The Four Elements of Architecture and Other Writings. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge

University Press, 2011

Smith, Maurice K., “Dimensional Self-Stability and Displacement in Field-Ordered Directional Alternations,”

Places, 5 (2), 72–86. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1988

Ware, Isaac, A Complete Body of Architecture: Adorned with plans and elevations, from original designs … in

which are interspersed some designs of Inigo Jones never before published. Farmington Hills, Michigan: Gale,

2010

Wright, Frank Lloyd, Ausgeführte Bauten und Entwürfe von Frank Lloyd Wright [The Wasmuth Portfolio]. Berlin:

Ernst Wasmuth, 1910

Xercavins i Valls, Enric, “La prefabricación en edificios singulares,” in Hormigón y Acero, no. 235 1er Trimestre.

Madrid: Asociación Científico-Técnica del Hormigón Estructural [Scientific-Technical Association for

Structural Concrete], 2005

CHAPTER 7

Plummer, Henry, The Potential House. Tokyo: Gingko Press, 1989

AFTERWORD

Adam, Robert, Ruins of the Palace of the Emperor Diocletian at Spalatro in Dalmatia. London: [s.n.], 1764

2/3rds rule 155

Abruña, Fernando 96

Adam, Robert 222

Amsterdam, Netherlands 2, 11–13, 23, 44, 97

Anthoniszoon, Cornelis 11

architects of record:

Aires Mateus 224, 224–5

Ando, Tadao 109, 109

Atelier 5 110, 110–1

Baumans-Deffet 201, 217

Behnisch & Partner 192, 192–3

Busmann + Haberer 138, 138

Campo Baeza 212, 212–13

Chareau, Pierre 190, 190–1

Coderch, José Antonio 64, 64

Correa, Charles 65, 65

De.Ar 95

Doshi, Balkrishna V. 167

du Cerceau, Jean 26

Erickson, Arthur 133, 133

Gaudí, Antonio 25, 188, 189

Hertzberger, Herman 157, 160, 160–1

Jones, E. Fay 178, 179

Jujol, Josep María 42

Kahn, Louis I. 113, 157, 158, 158–9

Krier, Leon 185

Le Corbusier 77, 112, 112, 139, 139, 155

Melnikov, Konstantin 139, 139

Mies Van der Rohe, Ludwig 155, 164, 165

Mignucci, Andrés 21, 66, 94

Onion Flats 94

Ortiz, Maribel 94

Palladio, Andrea 77, 185, 185, 228

Pezo von Ellrichshausen 178

Piano, Renzo 107

Richardson, H.H. 62

Rietveld, Gerrit 89, 158, 191

Rogers, Richard 107

Scarpa, Carlo 226, 227

Schindler, R.M. 116, 118, 130, 130, 139, 200

Smith, Maurice K. 214, 214–16, 217

Utzon, Jørn 92, 92

Wright, Frank Lloyd 107, 123, 123, 150, 152, 158, 186, 186–7

Zumthor, Peter 27, 218

architectural systems:

classicism 184–5, 184–5

Frank Lloyd Wright designs 186, 186–7

industrialized systems 188, 189–90, 190–2, 192–3

Kahn-Hertzberger variations 157–8, 157–9, 160, 160–1

tectonic and stereotomic form 178–9, 178–9

using and combining 169

vernacular 180–3, 180–3

assemblies:

building zones 83, 83

conceptual deconstruction 82, 82

hierarchy of 80

part-whole 81, 81

physical 220

Barcelona, Spain 25, 42, 64, 64, 188, 189

Bastia, Corsica 73

bay windows 23, 56, 57, 72, 73, 81, 83

Bern, Switzerland 110, 110–11

Betanzos, Spain 208, 209

Blaeu, Joan 2

Bologna, Italy 63, 63

Boston, Massachusetts, USA 62, 62, 72, 73

building codes 24

building planning tools, introduced 120

INDEX 243

Index

Page numbers in italics denote an illustration or illustration caption

244 INDEX

building program (building brief) 3, 6, 33–4, 40, 50, 78, 84, 87, 99,

102

building types:

defined 3

buildings, by type:

apartment:

Athens 95

Bastia, Corsica 73

Casa de La Marina, La Barceloneta, Barcelona 64, 64

Casa Milà (La Pedrera), Barcelona 188, 189

Casa Planells, Barcelona 42

Kanchanjunga, Mumbai 65, 65

barn:

Amish, Pennsylvania USA 119

tithe, Great Coxwell, England 132

basilica:

Sagrada Familia, Barcelona 25

Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome: 14, 14–15

canal house 2, 10, 22, 23, 23, 44, 97

cathedral:

St. Gall, St. Gallen, Switzerland 132

church:

Il Redentore, Venice 185

Kolumba, Cologne 27, 218

Old Church [Oude Kerk], Amsterdam 11, 11–13

Thorncrown Chapel, Eureka Springs, Arkansas, US 179

courtyard dwelling:

Turfan oasis settlement 28, 28

Casa Tavárez, San Juan, Puerto Rico 96

fire station:

Limbourg, Belgium 201

freestanding residential house:

Baizeau, Carthage, Tunisia 139, 139

Blackman No.1, Groton, Massachusetts, USA 214, 214–16

Blackman No. 2, Manchester, Massachusetts, USA 217

Capra (Rotonda), Vicenza 185

Casa em Alenquer, Portugal 224, 224–5

De Blas, Madrid 212, 212–13

Fallingwater, Bear Run, Pennsylvania, USA 123, 123

Jacobs, Madison, Wisconsin, USA 186

Krier, Seaside, Florida, USA 185

Lovell Beach, Newport Beach, California, USA [Schindler] 116,

118, 139, 139, 200

Darwin D. Martin, Buffalo, New York, USA 187

Melnikov, Moscow 139, 139

Poli, Peninsula de Coliumo, Chile 178

Pope-Leighey, Alexandria, Virginia, USA 187

Tischler, Los Angeles 130, 130–1

Violeta 113, San Juan Puerto Rico 66

Violeta 150, San Juan, Puerto Rico 94

hôtel particulier, Paris: 10

Hôtel de Sully, 26, 26, 191

Maison de Verre (Maison D’Alsace) 190, 190–1

institutional:

Centraal Beheer, Apeldoorn, Netherlands 160, 160–1

Hysolar Research Institute, Stuttgart 192, 192–3

Ministry of Social Welfare and Employment, Amsterdam 152

Sangath, Ahmedabad, India 167

Japanese, traditional wooden: 16, 67, 84, 182–3, 182–3, 191,

199, 200, 200

gassho zukuri style minka farmhouse, Ogimachi Village, Japan

200

Watanabe House, Tsuruoka, Japan 67

Yoshijima House sake brewery, Hida Takayama, Japan 182

laboratory:

Richards and Goddard Laboratories, Philadelphia 158, 158–9

museum:

Castelvecchio Museum, Verona 226

Guggenheim, New York 107

Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas, USA 113, 113

The Kolumba, Cologne 27, 218

Museum Ludwig and Philharmonic Hall, Cologne 138, 138

Pompidou, Paris 107

Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver 133, 133

palace:

Diocletian’s Palace, Split 222, 222

Katsura Imperial Palace, Kyoto 84

palazzo:

Querini Stampalia, Venice 226, 227

Olivetti Showroom, Venice 226, 227

Palazzo Vecchio, Florence 210–1, 210

performace space:

Opera House, Sydney 196

rectory:

Trinity Church Rectory, Boston 62

row house: 1, 10, 16, 16–17, 23, 34, 63

Azuma House, Osaka 109, 109

Back Bay, Boston 72

Betanzos, Galicia 208, 209

design convention and challenges 96–7, 108

design examples 109–10, 109–12, 112

design in longitudinal section 93–112, 114–115

hierarchy of space 96

Merchant’s House, Himeji 16, 16–17

Schröder House, Utrecht 84

Siedlung Halen, Bern 110, 110–11

structured observation task 114–15

Thin Flats, Philadelphia, 94

Unité d’Habitation, Marseille 112, 112

temple:

Pantheon 185

Victorian wooden house (San Francisco): 70, 74, 86, 86

school:

Ecole Fonds de Loup, Andrimont, Belgium 217

building zones 83, 83

INDEX 245

built environment:

coherence and invention 107–8

control of 4, 5–7, 8, 18

evolution of 3–7, 73–4

fine-grained 3–4, 7, 63, 87, 107, 180, 226, 229

inhabitation and use 50

layered interventions in 220–2, 222–5, 224, 226, 227, 228

non-thematic 4, 85

observing change within 10

signature add-ons 84, 84–5

space, assignment of 101–2

structure 2, 4, 10, 26, 29, 84, 86, 219, 222, 228–9, 231–4

thematic 3, 73–4, 84

unique sculptural form 107

built field see field, built

Cairo, Egypt 73, 73

capacity (environmental) 3, 7, 25, 228, 231–2

architectural systems 154, 169, 175

served space 50, 78, 96, 120

change:

bottom-up 3, 6–8, 25, 74, 232–4, 237

fine-grained 3–6, 181

Chastain, Thomas 28, 28

Chow, Renée 28, 28

classicism 184–5, 184–5

climatic conditions 102

coherence:

architectural systems 154, 157, 177 180, 183, 186

combining systems 200

cross-section, designing in 117, 119, 120, 125, 136

exterior elements 87, 90

interventions 226, 228

space allocation 100

urban fabric 107–8, 231

Colegio de Arquitectos y Arquitectos Paisajistas de Puerto Rico

(CAAPPR) 59

commodity 50

complexity:

architectural systems 154, 177, 180

built environment 3, 73, 221, 229–30, 234

combining systems 194, 198, 201

exterior add-ons 85

hierarchy of design 82

urban fabric 5

conceptual deconstruction 82, 82

continuity:

intervention 107–8

public space 210

recurring elements 118, 120, 127

roof, unifying structure 130, 136, 137

signature add-ons 85

vernacular systems 180

contraction 22

control:

of the built environment 6–7, 18

of change 4

of complexity 197–210

of design 33, 39, 76, 210, 219, 220, 233, 234

of form 8, 9, 20, 32, 33, 49

of territory 18, 26, 45, 54

Cuesta, Alexander 36–7

Dailey, Wendy 131

Dale, John R. 128–9, 128–9

del Toro, Alberto 96

design methods 6, 79, 87, 129, 154–5, 229, 234

design moves:

categorized 35

operationally defined 38

design plays:

principle features 32–4

teaching method 2, 7, 40–1

transformation sequence 36–7, 38–9

design sections 95

Eixample, Barcelona (Cerdà i Sunyer) 188, 189

Engel, Heinrich [Heino] 187

entresol 26, 26

entry porches 58–60, 60, 61

exterior wall:

claiming space inside 62–4, 62–4

expansion into interior 66–7, 67

terraces 65, 65

façade:

changes to 23

element library 87, 87

public/private space 54–5, 97

stacking systems 208, 209–11, 210

territorial claim 56, 56–7

façade systems, stacking 208, 209, 210, 211

field, built:

directional 138, 138, 160, 163

non-directional 163

organizational strategies 158, 160, 163, 214

structuring light within 133, 135

Florence, Italy 210–11, 210–11, 223

form of enclosure 150

form of transition 45, 68–9

front yard:

Back Bay, Boston 52

El Vedado, Havana, Cuba 47

galeria acristalada 73, 209

246 INDEX

Goeree, Jan 11

Gryboyianni, Christina 103, 103–4

Hajian, Paul 28, 28

hands-on design moves:

categories 35

transformation sequence 36–7, 38–9

Havana, Cuba 47, 63, 63

Hida Takayama, Japan 182

hierarchy:

of assembly 80, 154

of design and construction 78, 82

of environmental levels 8, 18, 85, 233

of space 35, 82, 96, 100

of systems 204

Hille, R. Thomas 86, 87, 209

Himeji, Japan 16, 16–17

hilltowns 180–1, 180–1

industrialization in the built environment 70, 73–4

informal sector building 25, 74

inhabitation:

and change 232

and use 50

interaction among designers 8–9, 34, 35, 198

internal subdivision 22, 78

intervention, sphere of 8

Kahn-Hertzberger Variations 157–77

kits of parts 56, 87, 158, 161, 168, 169, 170

Kyoto, Japan 84, 84

levels (environmental) 18–28, 30, 177, 194, 220–6, 229–34, 237

and exterior building form 76, 78, 85, 86, 91

inter-level relationships 8

zones of transition 68–99

light studies:

climatic influence 102

cross-sectional 126

directional form 113, 113

organizing function 133, 133, 138, 138

mashrabiya 73

Minami, Kazunobu 16, 16–17

mistakes, learning from 48, 49

model units 6

Mumbai, India 65, 65

negative capability (Keats) 49

observation:

common characteristics 26

field drawings 28–9

physical form 10

research tool 27

sequential transformation 11, 11–17, 14, 16

structured approach 30–1

ordering principles 10, 35, 72

Osaka, Japan 109, 109

Pantheon, Rome 185

Paris, France 10, 18–19, 19, 24, 26, 26, 73, 87, 107, 190–1, 229

part–whole assemblies 81, 91

patterns (Alexander): 1, 237

built environment 3, 7-8, 10, 228, 233

built form, changes to 22, 26, 29, 73–74, 84

design moves 35

row houses 114

vernacular systems 180

zone of transition 97

Pérez de Arce, Rodrigo 14, 15, 223

physical hierarchy, defined operationally 18

Plan of St. Gall 132

Ponce, Puerto Rico 58–60, 60

Pontevedra, Spain 57

positioning rules 87, 125, 181

precedent documentation 11, 11–17, 14, 16

primary volume 73, 78

proportion 77

reflective practice (Schön) 33

Rue Mallet-Stevens, Paris 87

running roofs 134, 135–6, 137

SAR (Stichting Architecten Research / Foundation for

Architects’ Research) 120

San Francisco, California, USA 70, 72, 86, 86, 140, 140

San Juan, Puerto Rico 44, 66, 82, 94, 96

Siedlung Halen, Bern, Switzerland 110, 110–11

signature add-ons 84, 84–5

squares, public:

Piazza della Signoria, Florence 209–11, 210

Place des Vosges, Paris 18, 19

Plaza de la Leña, Pontevedra, Spain 57, 57

Plaza Mayor, Madrid 20, 20

Public Plaza, Isabela, Puerto Rico 21

squatter settlements 25

sustainability 1, 6–8, 50, 221, 229–30, 233–4, 237

INDEX 247

systems, defined 154

tartan grid 120

tectonic and stereotomic form 178–9, 178–9

combined: 212, 212–16, 214

territory:

claiming 56, 57, 62–3, 62–3, 64–7

exterior space within 64–5, 64–5

façade plane 56, 56–7

public/private space 54–5, 62–3

threshold expansion 62–3, 62–3

thematic built environment, defined 3

thematic design:

constraints, working with 219

design analysis 86, 86

design control, effect of 233–5

development trends 229–30

space, assignment of 96, 102

thematic variants 60, 86, 87

theme and variation: 3, 41, 234

façade 23, 56

kits of parts 70, 87

vernacular systems 180–1, 186

zones of transition 68, 91, 177

timber barn building 119, 132

tokonoma 84, 84

top-down design 7, 87, 102, 233

transformation:

building level 22–4, 23, 224, 224–5

building over time 25–6, 25–7, 27

exterior articulation 73–4

frameworks 228

infill level 226, 227

room level 24

sequential 11, 11–15, 14, 16, 16–7

urban level 18, 19–21, 20, 222, 222–3

transition see form of transition, zone of transition

transformation sequence:

introduced 38

tripartite zoning 128–9, 128–9, 132, 132

Tsuruoka, Japan 67

Turfan oasis, China 28, 28

two-step design and building processes 72, 75, 90, 150

type see building type

urban fabric: 19, 24

Amsterdam 2, 11

Arab-Islamic Marrakech 19

coherence of 107

complexity of 5

Florence 223

Havana contrasted with Bologna 63

historical changes 3–7, 222, 222–3

level of transformation 18–24, 19–21, 23

Lucca 223

Paris 19

regional 84

Split (Spalato), Croatia 222

vernacular building:

design precedent 58–61, 60

Japanese wooden houses 182–3, 182–3

local site conditions 180–1, 180–1

vertical building zones 83

visualizing design 123

Vitruvius 50, 77

willing suspension of disbelief (Coleridge) 168

zone of transition 43–70, 97, 100, 204, 205, 208, 209