Spring 2011

Published by The American Institute of Architects FO

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eFORWARDChristina A. Noble, AIA, LEED AP - DirectorSarah Sobel, AIA - Assistant Director

NATIONAL ASSOCIATES COMMITTEE MISSIONThe National Associates Committee is dedicated to representing and advocating for Associates, both mainstream and alternative, in the national, regional, state, and local components of the AIA.

FORWARD MISSIONTo be the architectural journal of young, aspiring architects and designers of the built environment specifi cally targeting design issues.

Spring 2011. Volume 11, No. 1. Published biannually by the AIA.

THE AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF ARCHITECTS1735 New York Ave., NWWashington, DC 20006-5292

P: 800-AIA-3837 or 202-626-7300F: 202-626-7547www.aia.org/nac

NATIONAL ASSOCIATES COMMITTEE (NAC) OFFICERSWilliam Turner, Assoc. AIA - National Associate DirectorAshley Clark, Assoc. AIA - ChairWayne Mortensen, Assoc. AIA - Advocacy DirectorClarice Sollog, Assoc. AIA, LEED AP BD+C - Community & Communications DirectorTu-Anh Bui, Assoc. AIA - Knowledge & Programming Director

NAC COMMUNICATIONS COMMITTEE Christina A. Noble, AIA, LEED AP - Forward DirectorSarah Sobel, AIA - Forward Assistant Director Jesse Wilmoth, Assoc. AIA - AssociateNews Assistant Editor

ISSN 2153-7526 Copyright and Reprinting: (C) 2011 AIA. All Rights Reserved.

SUBMISSIONSForward welcomes the submission of essays, projects and responses to ar-ticles. Submitted materials are subject to editorial review. All Forward issues are themed, so articles and projects are selected relative to the issue’s spe-cifi c subject.

Please contact the Forward Director, Christina Noble, at Christina.Noble@gmail.com if you are interested in contributing.

FALL FORWARD 211Adaptation

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TOPICS 3by Christina A. Noble

BORDER LINES 6by Eddie Jones

MEDELLÍN PUBLIC SPACES: 14PERCEPTIONS + RECONNECTIONS by Ernest Bellamy with assistance from Carlos Bueno Rivero,Emerson Marín Parra, Avni Patel and Sophia Tan

CARTOGRAMS OF MEMORY 20by Saskia Jordá

ART, EXPERIENCE, MEMORY 30by Aaron Herring

CONVERSATION: AN INTERVIEW WITH 37THE ARTIST, CHRISTO interviewed by Christina Noble and Aaron Herring,edited by Christina Noble

CONNECTING THE DOTS: INTERSTITIAL LAND USE 49AND THE IMPLEMENTATION OF COLLECTIVE DESIGNSTRATEGY by Jenna Didier and Oliver Hess

THE UNSEEN SITE 59by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

LANZAROTE, A CHANGING CLIMATE, THE 70‘ENVIROGRAMMIC’ RESPONSE by Mark Smout and Laura Allen

NETWORK TRACE-UNTRACE 80by Claire Sheridan

TOPICS

by Christina A. NobleLANDSCAPE

“Landscape architecture is not simply a refl ection of culture but more an active instrument in the shaping of modern culture.”1 James Corner

Landscape is often ignored as passive and neutral – something that just is. Perhaps we take landscape for granted because we rarely recognize its importance to our daily lives – we see it as a tree here, or a bush there. We think of it as only vegetation. However, when we glimpse the larger view – like when we fl y and look out our window at the city below – we can ascertain landscape’s ubiquity. We can imagine the opportunities offered by landscape’s expansive scale to shape our cities and drive progressive change.

For example, the High Line stretches through lower Manhattan, repurposing abandoned industrial rail lines into a manufactured landscape with wild plantings, lounge chairs and auditorium seating suspended over a busy Manhattan street. The project generates a pedestrian-friendly city amenity by turning an abandoned and no-longer functioning raised rail structure that divided one neighborhood from another into an art-piece that celebrates the uniqueness of what the abandoned rail had become over time – an ephemeral and wild landscape forgotten in a city of 8 million people. Beyond the aesthetics of improving a deteriorating, non-functioning and out-dated infrastructure, a signifi cant aspect of the project is its intention to incentivize economic development along its 1.45-mile length. New York City offi cials anticipate that the park will bring $900 million in revenue over 30 years and as of 2008 had generated over $4 billion dollars in private investment. The High Line illustrates the fundamental shift in our economy from one that builds into one that manages, offers services, and designs. Former industrial rail lines that shipped goods now offer a place of leisure in an information and service-based economy. The shift in our economy and how we work has transformed how we view the world – amenity spaces such as public parks are the new infrastructural investment for a creative class of workers.

The High Line illustrates the power of one project to encourage economic investment on an urban scale within the modern economy.

In addition to economic development, we can also consider how the practice of landscape design can assimilate, comment upon and address challenging issues related to geo-politics and cultural identity. For example, the article “Medellín: Public Spaces Perceptions + Reconnections” asks: How has the city of Medellín, Columbia emerged from decades of fear driven by drug cartel violence to create new public plazas as “instigator[s] for transformation and possibility”? J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout designed tactile and whimsical beach-like surfaces within a public plaza to pique the curiosity of residents enough to emerge from their barricaded homes and participate in public life and public space. Landscape is more than greenery that heals decades of violence and fear – it is a strategically designed plan that opens civic society both physically and metaphorically.

In another example of the power of landscape to shape and comment upon issues critical to contemporary society, Eddie Jones discusses his offi ce’s design for the Mariposa Port of Entry. He asks: Can an “oasis in the sky” alleviate the wounds along a politically charged Arizona-Mexico border? Must the border be a harsh line dividing the two countries? Jones Studio contends that this need not be the case and instead understands the border as fl ows – fl ows of people, money and goods that are critical to both countries. The Port of Entry is responsible for managing these fl ows every day across an imposing wall that clearly defi nes the political boundary but ignores how blurred the border condition really is. The border is more infl uenced by the economic rules of supply and demand – the US has a strong demand for workers and goods while Mexico has a surplus – than the imposing height, length, or security measures of a wall. Expanding upon Jones’ ideas of fl ows, just as the economics of the border are more complex than a simple “mine vs. yours” stance, so are identities along the border. Southern Arizona wasn’t acquired by the United States from Mexico until the Gadsden Purchase in 1854 when Mexican families suddenly found themselves to be US citizens regardless of their cultural and familial ties to Mexico. Mexican and American families shared their communities and everyday spaces. Some early territory leaders were of Mexican heritage (Arizona didn’t become a state until 1912). Today’s political climate, however, ignores the complexity of the shared history between the two countries and instead magnifi es fear already exacerbated by our own recent economic struggles. Although building cannot solve racism or political intractability, perhaps design can become a process of social and cultural change. Through design we can question why our borders manifest themselves in a particular way and if that is how we want to represent

Christina A. Noble, AIA, LEED AP Forward Director Ms. Noble owns her own practice, Contour Architecture, located in Phoenix, Arizona. She believes in the power of design to incite positive change for the betterment of local communities. Christina graduated from Rice Univer-

sity with her Bachelor of Architecture.

ourselves to our neighbor and economic partner. By purposefully making the Mariposa Port of Entry a welcoming and calming contrast to the harshness of the border wall and desert environment, perhaps we can generate conversations regarding our attitudes and biases toward Mexico and understand the border condition not as a divisive boundary, but blurred cultural identities and economic cooperation and co-dependence.

Artists Christo and recently passed Jeanne-Claude face boundaries head-on. Their projects’ expansive scale stretches across legal borders to force collaboration between a multiplicity of citizenry, governmental agencies and institutions. Running Fence, located in Sonoma and Marin Counties in California required the granting of a temporary easement across private property belonging to fi fty-nine farmers and ranchers as well as approval of building permits by two county building departments. One of the results, intended or not, was to use property ownership regulations to impose upon governmental agencies and local citizens with a more practical mindset to question, consider, and judge what is and what is not art and whether it should be constructed regardless of one’s opinion of the specifi c piece. Neighbors, individual property owners, and governmental agencies all had to agree and cooperate in order for the project to proceed. Although the piece would only be in place for two weeks, the process and surrounding discussions lasted forty-two months, eliciting a discussion of what is and is not art to a population that otherwise would not have taken the time to participate.

As Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s practice illustrates, art, architecture and landscape need not be a passive background to our everyday lives – it can be a process that forces discussion, questions the status quo and transforms society. Design is strategic thinking on a multiplicity of scales that engages economic, cultural, political, legal, and geographical processes to actively shape and transform our communities.

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by Eddie JonesBORDER LINES

Border Lines A weight carried by two Weighs only half as much.

The world on a map looks like the drawing of a cowIn a butcher’s shop, all those lines showingWhere to cut.

That drawing of the cow is also a jigsaw puzzle,Showing just as much how very wellAll the strange parts fi t together.

Which way we look at the drawingMakes all the difference.We seem to live in a world of maps:

But in truth we live in a world madeNot of paper and ink but of people.Those lines are our lives. Together,

Let us turn the map until we see clearly:The border is what joins us,Not what separates us.

Alberto Ríos, 2003

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Fig. 1. Earthrise by Frank Borman, 24th December 1968 from Apollo 8

Border Lines [Líneas Froterizas] was commis-sioned in 2003 by then Governor Janet Napol-itano in honor of the visit of Mexico’s Presi-dent Vincent Fox to Arizona. Ríos wrote these words for “public purpose,” and in it, Ríos reminds us of our responsibility to each other, despite and because of, the invisible borders we draw around ourselves each day.

There are eight offi cial land ports of entry in Arizona. The third busiest port in the USA is Mariposa, located 5 miles west of downtown Nogales, Arizona with its neighboring Mexi-can border town Nogales, Sonora. Nogales is 70 miles due south of Tucson, Arizona. Jones Studio has redesigned and expanded the en-tire 57 acre port.

One can surround him or herself with a border of preconception and prejudgment, thereby limiting communication and personal growth. Nations, however, fi nd the concept of borders a necessary control device relative to commerce, trade and labor pools. Make no mistake; crossing a border is big business! Up until 1963 the US/ Mexico border and the US/ Canada border were less about security and more about monitoring imports and exports. Then, President John F. Kennedy was assas-sinated and for the fi rst time in history, the borders were closed… because of the ultimate human motivator: fear.

Nevertheless, a fundamental labor shortage in the southwest United States remained, and a surplus of labor in Mexico weakened the Mexican economy. To understand the direc-tions of immigration one must understand the balance of push/ pull. The US encour-aged Mexican labor to move north, matching Mexico’s inclination to push its surplus north.

It is mathematically and socially predictable to expect any geopolitical balance to eventu-ally run its course. As we have experienced in Arizona over the past 20 years, the imaginary cow line which once joined us with Mexico has morphed into the butcher’s line which separates us.

Still the Mexican, Central and South Ameri-can crops get harvested to supply the USA with 65% of the produce we consume. It all arrives in trucks, having been processed and inspected at the Mariposa Land Port of Entry. This fl ow is big business. (Fig 4).

Mariposa Land Port of Entry:Nogales, Arizona/ Nogales, Sonora

Christmas Eve, 1968 Astronaut Frank Borman, Apollo 8 Commander, snapped “Earth Rise” … the picture that launched the environmen-tal movement. (Fig. 1) The image of the Earth as a “big blue marble” remains imprinted in my mind. Its appearance from space made clear to me the artifi ce of political borders - there are no countries, no politics and no borders.1

Coming of age in 1960’s America infl uenced my intellectual fi lters to lean left. I now con-sider it amusingly ironic to fi nd myself lead architect in a project hell-bent on negotiating the politics of immigration, economic inequal-ity, national security, law enforcement and “Welcome to America” at a time when nation-al debate is escalating regarding the nature of our borders and the future of immigration in the United States.

Given the negative alliance of our state legis-lators, one could assume Jones Studio would be subject to partisan political pressure inhib-

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Fig. 2. Mariposa Land Port of Enryrendering by Jones Studio

iting a sympathetic design approach. Fortu-nately, the development of American ports is under Federal, not State jurisdiction. Further-more, and to America’s credit, we have what’s called “The Design Excellence Program,” which mandates that new federal buildings be of the highest representation of democracy and dignity. We have to do a great job; it’s required.

What to Do

Marilu Knode, then senior curator at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art, wrote in 2009:

“While many government buildings hide behind dense bureaucratic processes and an urban context to conduct their business, the Mariposa Port project is an exposed, lighten-ing rod of building, sitting on one of the most contentious borders in the Americas, at the eye of the maelstrom of debates over liberty, migration and trade.” 2 (Fig. 2)

For 200 years the United States celebrated and symbolically embraced diverse immi-grants. “Melting pot” describes what I believe underlies America’s perceived cultural pre-eminence. However, despite lip-service to a multi-cultural society, an intimidating, metal fence meets our southern neighbors, appear-ing in valleys and disappearing over hills as far as the eye can see (Fig 3).3 Most lines of demarcation express abstracted conceptions of separation, like the lines of the butcher’s cow drawing. Often, the lines only exist as an ideal without a physical reality. However, in the southwest United States, a tangible fence clearly identifi es the usually invisible separa-tion between nations rather than serving as a line of connection as Rios’s poem suggests.

Despite architecture’s limited abilities to directly address the inevitable changing pat-terns of global politics, security operations and commercial trucking, it is undeniable that architecture’s connections and infl uence must not be ignored. To address these border condi-tions, the design team aspired to replace anxi-ety, danger and extreme temperatures with expressions of respect and extensive modu-lated shade. We wished to embed ourselves in the unique opportunity to effect debate. The experience of the present Mariposa Port is one of inescapable heat, dirt, intimidation, danger and fumes – not only for the visitor, but also for the customs agents who experi-ence this all day, every day. For the inbound traveler, both American and Mexican, there is the added anxiety of being on the defensive. A more sympathetic environment can mitigate these experiences. As a design team, rather than perpetuate fear, we instead asked, “What if this gateway to America was a walk in the park? What if our gestural gift at the border could be a garden?”

A Desert Oasis

The Arizona border’s topography is a carved maze of hilly landforms and arroyos. The

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Fig 3. Border Fence along Arizona-Mexico Border. Photography by David McNew

Fig. 4 After the NAFTA treaty, Mexican, Central American and South American imports increased exponentially to the point of ten-hour wait times during harvest season

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original Mariposa Port of Entry’s 45 acres is a balance of cut peaks and fi lled valleys. To physically enlarge the site to 57 acres for the expanded program, engineered fi ll was exca-vated from a nearby supply and compacted behind massive gabion retaining walls, utiliz-ing demolished concrete paving (Fig 6). The facility now under construction integrates new environmentally responsible structures with the image of building on a plateau. It conceptualizes a garden with distinct edges that would appear elevated on a plinth, like a landscape “in the sky.” (Fig. 5) 4

Imagine extending your arm, hand out, wide palm up, towards an approaching stranger. This is a universal signal, a positive gesture. It is as if you hold the word “welcome, bi-envenida”. Your hand is the plinth, the im-plied word the garden, the oasis, the big blue marble. It is also notable that when one is inside a land port, you are, legally speaking, nowhere. Not in one country or the other. You are suspended.

Although the postcard depiction of the fa-mous Sonoran Desert typically and accu-rately silhouettes the mighty saguaro cactus against a brilliantly colored sunset, our site also represents the reality of a parched, hostile landscape - still beautiful but a challenge to human survival. An obvious architectural solu-tion would recall the romantic notion of oasis, inherent to the experience of these conditions. Although we strived to create an oasis in the desert, offering a welcoming respite from the extreme heat, (Fig. 7) a man-made oasis in an arid climate would be irresponsible unless it was self-reliant. Therefore, a major design determinant was rainwater harvesting and reclamation of building system condensate. We have found that most people assume there is not enough precipitation in the desert to be a dependable irrigation source. However, those who experience the desert monsoon season will recognize the potential for storing huge quantities of water. Mariposa has a one million gallon underground water storage res-

Fig. 5. Walpi, Hopi Village; Ansel Adams, 1941

Fig 7. Mariposa Land Port of Enry. Rendering by Jones Studio

Fig. 6. Mariposa Land Port of Enry gabion walls of recycled, demolished concrete paving. Photography by Jones Studio

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Fig. 8. Centralized safe zone, fully landscaped and scaled to a small town street Mariposa Land Port of Enryrendering by Jones Studio

Fig. 9. The oasis will be visible from the pedestrian processing lobby and will be the foreground view for all administration and port busines offi ces. Mariposa Land Port of Enry rendering by Jones Studio

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ervoir. The hundreds of newly planted trees will not require any potable water. All on-site trees will be watered from the 267,000 square feet of collected roof rainwater stored in the underground tank.

The new, self-reliant and sustainable oasis will mark a centralized safe zone in the Mariposa Land Port of Entry that is fully landscaped and scaled to a small town street (Fig. 8). This oasis will be visible from the pedestrian processing lobby and will be the access and foreground view for all administration and port business offi ces (Fig. 9).

Additional forward-looking and sustainable strategies were incorporated into the Mariposa project. Power needs for the new expanded port could place a negative demand on the already under-designed local utility infrastruc-

Fig. 10. Photovoltaic canopies at the Mariposa Land Port of Enryrendering by Jones Studio

ture. Therefore, we have included a 2,500 kilowatt photovoltaic array to offset electrical demands, and are on track to have the fi rst net zero and Platinum LEED port in the world (Fig. 10).

Jones Studio was, from the beginning, well aware of our inability to affect policy in Nogales, Sonora. However, we always be-lieved we could extend a metaphorical open hand. This gesture takes the form of an archi-tecture that honors the dignity of all people while respecting the seriousness of law en-forcement. In this way, we propose that Mari-posa could represent a dignifi ed and benevo-lent aspect of the United States (Fig. 11).

“Cultural renewal in America’s melting pot has reached a new place: perhaps the country is no longer able to absorb everyone who comes

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Eddie Jones, AIA Edward (Eddie) Jones, with his business partner and brother Neal, were raised in the oil fi elds of Oklahoma. From a very early age the two bothers aspired to be architects and

share a studio.Eddie was born in 1949 Texas and moved to the Sonoron desert in 1973 after graduating from Oklahoma State University. He founded Jones Studio, Inc. on June 8, 1979, 3 months before his 30th birthday. It was not until years later, he realized he had begun his professional career on the birthday of his two major heroes… Frank Lloyd Wright and Bruce Goff. For the past 30 years the Jones Studio family has grown to include 20 highly motivated and enthusiastic individuals. They enjoy an unusually broad list of building types - the list includes museums, research facilities, performing arts centers, golf club houses, an NFL training facility, town halls, softball-soccer stadiums, and an entire college campus.Having been honored with over 183 design awards, the small studio was recognized during the summer months of 2006 when they were asked to be an exhibit in the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art. To the best of anyone’s knowledge it was a precedent setting fi rst time example of an architectural exhibit involving the relocation of an entire fi rm to a museum gallery. They were the exhibit… fully functioning, on public display for 4 months.Eddie has the privilege of lecturing frequently and sharing his love for discussing architecture around the United States and abroad.

here. If that is the case, then it is likely our po-litical policies need to understand that strong economies to our south are crucial to stem-ming the tide of migrants to the country. While NAFTA was primarily about a less restricted fl ow of money and goods across borders, al-lowing for easier return travel at sites such as the Mariposa Port of Entry recognizes the de-sire immigrants have in keeping connected to their homes. As a new administration grapples with incontrovertible issues of trade, migration and crime, new ways of thinking about our permeable border must be found.

Political policies shape borders, but it is indi-viduals who must negotiate them every day.”5

NOTES

1. Borman, Frank. “Earthrise.” December 24, 1968. <http://tlr05.wordpress.

com/category/adventy/>

2. Knode, Marilu. “On Boundaries and Lines, Buildings and Politics: Refl ections

on the Reality of Project Development Process and Ideas in the work of Jones

Studio, Inc.” March 18, 2009.

3. McNew, David. “Border Fence.” < http://www.zimbio.com/

pictures/74bSjESudg9/Construction+Continues+Border+Fence+Drug+Violence/

FpDeBakb98>

4. Adams, Ansel. “Walpi, Hopi Village.” 1941. <http://sadredearth.

com/2009/01/09/>

5. Knode, Marilu.

Fig. 11. Mariposa Land Port of Enry Rendering by Jones Studio

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by Ernest Bellamy with assistance from Carlos Bueno Rivero, Emerson Marín Parra, Avni Patel and Sophia Tan

MEDELLÍN: PUBLIC SPACES PERCEPTIONS + RECONNECTIONS

Plaza Cisneros: pathways, rows of bamboo and benches are interspersed throughout the clusters of light poles. Photography by Ernest Bellamy. M

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Helping to evolve a metropolis away from confl ict and towards unity, newly constructed Medellín public spaces are evoking safer ideals and a freer public lifestyle. During a month-long stay in the fall of 2009, I experienced the newly built public spaces and studied how each project has become an instigator of change, breaking down previous existing physical and social barriers that have pervaded over the past 30 years. These new spaces have developed out of a past dominated by the global use of illicit drug that rose during the 1970s followed by the Columbian government’s subsequent outlawing of the crops used to produce those drugs. Throughout this period, drug cartels have altered the way of life for many Columbians.

With abundant violence occurring on the streets of major cities like Bogotá, Medellín and Cali, people became more defensive and less willing to coalesce outdoors beyond need. This phobia lead to decreased interest in communal spaces and more conservative attitudes.

In Medellín, a coincidence of efforts gathered momentum towards a turnaround when the Colombian government invested heavily in the public safety of the city during the mid 90’s, leading to the fall of the Medellín drug cartel. An independent effort by the local government in the late 90’s for better governmental regulation and improved programs for citizens’ welfare partnered with the initiatives of private sector

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leaders to promote a unique change in the people’s consciousness.

Parque de los Pies Descalzos, 1999by J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout, Giovanna Spera and Ana Elvira Velez

Parque de los Pies Descalzos, Bare Feet Park, is a tactile escape from the urban confi nes of the headquarters for EPM, Empresas Públicas de Medellín, Medellín’s public utility company. Designed by J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout, Giovanna Spera and Ani Vélez, Parque de los Pies Descalzos was a private venture embedded with public activities, intended to be a midday retreat carved out of the desert of parking lots surrounding EPM’s headquarters. Instead of designing an unadorned oasis in the asphalt, the designers established a new convention of open space for the public and a client open to new ideas.

“The project was a break point in the history of public spaces... prior to this, Medellín didn’t spend a lot on public spaces... quality and design came as a major selling point of the project for the client.” 1

What resulted was a park full of tactile experiences for the feet, most of which mimic the sensation of being on the coast, an inverse experience to the corporate or urban lifestyle previously dominant on the site. Although Medellín rests only 130 miles from the nearest coast, the trip is a lengthy seven-hour journey down the mountainous terrain of the Andes. Parque de los Pies Descalzos takes elements of the beach to the front door of the central business district and challenges all to remove their shoes and experience the world with their feet. In addition to the park’s sensory facets, the site incorporates other programs that aide in retaining a constant fl ow of visitors in circulation – for example, a row of

Parque de los Pies Descalzos: child playing in the plaza fountains. Photography by Ernest Bellamy.

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eateries and an EPM-sponsored, interactive children’s museum.

“Because of the lack of public spaces within the city, [Parque de los Pies Descalzos] gained public notoriety as a regional metropolitan park. Given the multitude of people who came to the site, the project stimulated the city government’s interest for more spaces [of quality] like this.”2

Parque de los Deseos, 2003by J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout

With a successive era of progressive mayors taking power, long-stalled projects geared toward improved quality of life gained momentum. A concerted effort to revitalize the establishments bordering the Sevilla and Moravia sectors was a crucial part of the new city redevelopment plan. With a University, Botanical Garden, Planetarium and

recreational park all located across from one another, city planners seized upon the area’s potential synergy to develop an expansive leisure and learning zone for the city.

“In the new north, at the historic border between the city center and the northern slums, we’ve made a great urban and social transformation... Zona Norte presents the most powerful example of the concept of Social Urbanism, in which great works are located in the heart of communities most in need. Fully designed and implemented simultaneously, these projects are the means to make profound cultural and social changes” 4

- Alejandro Echeverri, Director of City Planning 2002-2006

Following the success of Parque de los Pies Descalzos, Uribe was approached by EPM to work on renovating the aging,

Building throughway and view towards offi ce building. Photography by Ernest Bellamy.

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Parque de los Pies Descalzos, photography by Ernest Bellamy

Parque de los Pies Descalzos, photography by Ernest Bellamy

Parque de los Pies Descalzos, photography by Ernest Bellamy

Parque de los Deseos, photography by Ernest Bellamy

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poorly attended, planetarium into a cross-town extension of the popular interactive museum located within Parque de los Pies Descalzos. Instead of replicating past ideas, Uribe proposed an alternative approach centered on extending the planetarium outdoors while adding additional exposition space. His plan appropriated the remainder of the Planetarium’s block to create a subtly sloping plaza dividing the spaces of the old planetarium and the new exhibition space. Over the course of the day, the central plaza plays multiple roles in education and entertainment. Evening outdoor activities are worked into the site’s facilities - guided stargazing of the night skies, cinema star gazing on the big screen as weekly movies are projected off the planetarium’s façade. The evening activities have a way of instantly displacing visitors into a serene sense of escape from the surrounding city, and into a world beyond.

What began as a simple planetarium renovation expanded into a broader park, retaining the planetarium while housing the intended exposition gallery plus a host of other amenities ranging from practice facilities for the city’s music students to a gallery of eateries. This project’s greatest success and inherent power lays in the social and interactive experiences it enables.

Plaza Cisneros, 2004

Biblioteca by J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout | Plaza by Juan Manuel Peláez | Pylons by Luis Fernando Peláez

Plaza Cisneros has a long history in Medellín. When locomotive transportation dominated, Plaza Cisneros served as Medellín’s front door and main crossroad for commerce and travel. With urbanization and the subsequent transformation of the way people and goods travelled, Plaza Cisneros lost its prominence. In early 2002, an effort was made to redesign

and redefi ne the lost luster of the former hub.

“The project is part of the revitalization process of the sector of Guayaquil which has represented one of the sectors with great energy within downtown. Guayaquil has an important historical architecture; the gradual abandonment of some buildings made the sector signifi cantly degrade to the extent that the sector would disappear from collective memory.”3

- Juan Manual Peláez

Juan Manuel Peláez designed a contemporary plaza that broke from the historical context of the surrounding neighborhood. Conveying a conceptual theme of the plaza’s relationship to the city as analogous to light in architecture, Peláez formalizes the site of the plaza’s former market shed. Where the former shed sat, Peláez demarcated openness by facing city hall and connecting to programs directed at illuminating the mind. One of these is the Biblioteca EPM by J. Felipe Uribe de Bedout with implanted pieces meant to brighten the night, like sculptural pylons by Luis Fernando Peláez. With the use of soft colors, grey stones, refl ecting pools and bamboo gardens, the Plaza provides moments of tranquility within the bustling traffi c enveloping the site.

These three projects have aided in striking a renewal of derelict sectors of Medellin’s city center. Not only have they spurred change with political decision makers, they’ve fostered a culture of leisure and tourism in an atmosphere once stigmatized by violence.

The success of these public spaces stems from their abilities to offer unique spaces that cannot be found elsewhere in the city’s system of parks and plazas. Much like the public space treasure troves of Chicago’s Millennium Park, Miami Beach’s Lincoln Road, or Paris’s Centre Pompidou, these projects incentivize citizens to interact with and reinvest in their

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surrounding neighborhoods. In the past 2 years since these projects’ implementation, Medellín has experienced an uptick in violence. All hopes are that this is in part due to the city’s remaining gang’s struggling for supremacy amongst their ranks and the global economic downturn. With local politicians’ and planners’ efforts to create a more safe and sociable atmosphere, only time will tell if these projects and the city’s greater urban planning and political efforts will have the staying power to truly aid in a continued reduction in violence and routing of negative perceptions.

NOTES1 Uribe, J. Felipe, interview by Ernest Bellamy. Felipe Uribe Interview

(September 21, 2009).

2 Ibid

Casa de Musica, Parque de los Deseos, photography by Ernest Bellamy

Ernest Bellamy, Assoc. AIAreceived his B.Arch with a minor in urban studies from Illinois Institute of Technology, where upon graduating in 2009 he won the AIA-Chicago

sponsored Martin Roche Travel Scholarship, which he used to investigate the striking changes in Medellín. Ernest currently works on design competitions while working as a consultant for TSAO Design Group in Miami, FL.

3 Peláez, Juan Manuel, interview by Ernest Bellamy. Plaza Cisneros Questions

(July 28, 2010).

4 Alcaldía de Medellín. “Medellín cambia de piel.” Chap. 8 in Del miedo a la

esperanza, translated by Ernest Bellamy, 290. Medellín, Colombia: Alcaldía de

Medellín, 2007.

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by Saskia JordáCARTOGRAMS OF MEMORY

Bound – Size 7, 2010 (Detail with model)Industrial Eco-felt and hand embroidery.Image by Saskia Jordá

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“A map is made so we can fi nd our way from one place to another whether in nature or in the mind, not only once, but also again and again.”1 - Yiannis Christakos

Mapping has been part of my work for the past ten years, weaving in and out like a meandering road. I collect maps: aerial maps, road maps, geological maps, urban planning maps, and more. I am interested in the spaces these maps invite us to navigate, the way the eye interprets the graphic informational display, and the emotional yet analytical response maps evoke. However, my ends are devious: I am not interested in reading, following, or making a map accurately or precisely; on the contrary, I want to extract, dissect, and recombine the information into a fi ctional map, one that becomes a personal map or a map of memory.

Cartograms of Memory uses the experience of ‘displacement’ as a point of departure and the vocabulary of mapping as the mode of expression.

Cartograms often represent geographical space in unique ways, distorting the typical view. They can be thematic: graphing travel-time or a country’s population. This distortion intrigues me. I use maps of places I have lived or have traveled through to build abstract and distorted sculptural cartograms that speak of mobility, migration, displacement, and in the end, the fi nding

Cartograms of Memory, 2010Industrial felt and cord. Dimensions Variable.

Installation view at Modifi ed Arts, Phoenix, Arizona Photograph by Saskia Jorda

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of new ‘placement.’ Large forms are cut out of felt, then pieced together by sewing. A portion of this installation forms a suspended mesh of abstracted maps, representing ‘displacement,’ while the opposite end rests grounded on the fl oor like a topographical map, referencing the sense of ‘placement.’ The two ends are connected by a mid-section that acts as a transition, the space between chaos and order, emotion and rationality, displacement and placement.

Along with this sculptural installation, Cartograms of Memory features a collection of smaller embroidered maps that are fi ctional combinations, extractions, and fragments of land, water, and memory places. Together they create a story of remembrance.

This project is partially funded by a grant from the Arizona Commission on the Arts.

NOTES:1. Christakos, Yiannis. Personal Geographies. Translated by Lia Noufarou and Yiannis Christakos. Athens: Futura

Publications, 2005.

Bound – Size 7, 2010 (Detail)Eco-felt and hand embroidery. Image by Saskia Jordá

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Cartograms of Memory, 2010 Installation in progress, view at Optima Studio, Scottsdale, Arizona.

Industrial felt and hand embroidery. Dim. Variable.Image by Saskia Jordá

Unbound, 2010Industrial Eco-felt. Approx. 36” H x 92” W x 31” D. Installation view in progress at Optima studio, Scottsdale, Arizona. Image by Joan Baron

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Cartograms of Memory, 2010Industrial felt and cord. Dimensions Variable.

Installation view at Modifi ed Arts, Phoenix, Arizona Photograph by Saskia Jorda

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You are Here – Part I: Migration, 2010 Hand embroidery on mesh. Approx. 83” H x 90” W x 50” D

Installation at the Phoenix Art Museum, Phoenix, Arizona. Image by Saskia Jordá

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You are Here – Part I: Migration, 2010 Hand embroidery on mesh. Approx. 83” H x 90” W x 50” D

Installation at the Phoenix Art Museum, Phoenix, Arizona. Image by Saskia Jordá

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You are Here – Part I: Migration, 2010 Hand embroidery on mesh. Approx. 83” H x 90” W x 50” D

Installation at the Phoenix Art Museum, Phoenix, Arizona. Image by Saskia Jordá

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You are Here – Part I: Migration, 2010 Hand embroidery on mesh. Approx. 83” H x 90” W x 50” D

Installation at the Phoenix Art Museum, Phoenix, Arizona. Image by Saskia Jordá

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Saskia Jordá Saskia Jordá is an interdisciplinary artist working on site-specifi c installations, drawings, and performances. Scientifi c research has been

a departure point for Jordá’s work since her undergraduate studies at Arizona State University. This relationship developed further in the work she did for her Master’s degree at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. Since then, her work has referenced obscure anatomy, the evolution of a second skin, and the body as an alternate artifact. Earlier this year Jordá received an Artist Project Grant from the Arizona Commission on the Arts and in 2009 she was the recipient of the Contemporary Forum of the Phoenix Art Museum Artist Grant. She has exhibited throughout the United States and internationally and currently lives and works in Arizona.

Triangulation, 2010Color pencil and hand embroidery on industrial felt. 12” H x 12” W

Image by Saskia Jordá

Mar Caribe, 2010Color pencil and hand embroidery on industrial felt. 12” H x 12” W

Image by Saskia Jordá

Zona Intertropical, 2010Color pencil and hand embroidery on industrial felt. 12” H x 12” W

Image by Saskia Jordá

Lago, 2010Color pencil and hand embroidery on industrial felt. 6” H x 6” W

Image by Saskia Jordá

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by Aaron Herring

ART, EXPERIENCE & MEMORY:THE UPCOMING WORK OF JEANNE CLAUDE AND CHRISTO

Over the River, Project for the Arkansas River, State of Coloradoby ChristoCollage 2010 in 2 parts12 x 30 1/2” and 26 1/4 x 30 1/2”Pencil, fabric, pastel, wax crayon, charcoal, enamel paint, twine, aerial photograph with topologic elevations and fabric samplephotography by Andre GrossmanCopyright Christo 2010 Ref #135

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By Christo’s account, his and Jeanne-Claude’s massive sculptures are “irrational, foolish, and absolutely unnecessary.” Their tempo-rary, environmental-scale installations are designed without a tangible function. Christo and the recently deceased Jeanne-Claude, collaborators of over 46 years, are the artists responsible for the upcoming Over the River installation, a fourteen-day, 5.9 mile stretch of fabric panels suspended along 42 miles of the Arkansas River in Colorado. The magnitude of mobilizing the labor, environmental stud-ies, travel, communication, meetings, hear-ings, and permitting required to accomplish these artistic endeavors is disproportionate to the two-week duration of the exhibition. One could argue that Jeanne-Claude and Christo are devoted to an egomaniacal fulfi llment of self-expression whose only discernable achievement is massive intrusiveness. Yet Jeanne-Claude and Christo carry on enthusias-tically with parental fondness for their artistic labors-of-love.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s art career began nearly 50 years ago using fabric to wrap small scale items and has since progressed to large scale ‘fabric sails’ and fabric wrappings of in-frastructural items like buildings and bridges. In those fi fty years, Jeanne-Claude and Chris-to’s artistic endeavors have been arduous and lengthy. Over the River is the artists’ latest project to cross laborious political and plan-ning hurdles. Conceived by Jeanne-Claude and Christo in 1992 and expected to be com-pleted in 2011, this 19-year design odyssey will result in an exhibit that will last only four-teen days before it will be removed, it’s com-ponents recycled, and the physical traces of its existence gone. Once removed, the project will remain in fragments, digital photos, Chris-to’s handcrafted artifacts, and thousands of individual memories. The political, permitting, and planning process is a stark contrast to the short duration of the installation. The exhibit’s antagonizingly short duration seems more like a prank than a conceptual tool. In the roughly

50 years it has taken to realize a handful of their projects, the complexion of the art world has changed. In that time, could the temporal nature of their art have been devalued by the mass reproduction aesthetic of Andy Warhol, the graffi ti art of Basquiat, digital imitation, virtual worlds and gaming, or the increasing availability of rapidly consumable and dispos-able items? Does Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s art lose relevance in intervening years await-ing political acceptance and logistical resolu-tion?

Jeanne-Claude and Christo differentiate their spatial art from the abundance of two-dimen-sional illustration art by doing something radi-cal - building their fantastic visions. Despite the changing complexion of the art world and digital imitation, their artwork distinguishes itself from illustration in two signifi cant ways. First, the construction of Over the River means subjecting an ideal vision to the unpredictable scrutiny of physics and politics. The physi-cal magnitude of Over the River will affect a large number of people, institutions, as well as site ecology. Invariably this work will elicit opinion, support and resistance. Not so subtly, Over the River will enter into the public, po-litical and planning spectrums. For instance, preparation for such a massive undertaking has taken several years and generated an Environmental Impact Statement amounting to 2029 pages. On one of Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s earlier projects, approval to wrap the Reichstag, Germany’s parliamentary building, hung precariously on a vote from parliament. This sort of entry into public debate has had the effect of more clearly gauging public senti-ment as to role of art in political and public realms, the nature of what constitutes art, and reassessing the value of art as it is measured between necessity and indulgence.

Secondly, the work’s physical existence cre-ates a non-replicable moment. Over the River is located very deliberately between Salida and Cañon City Colorado along the Arkansas

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River. Several physical and operational crite-ria infl uenced the selection of this particular site. The steeped banks of the river, the east-west orientation exhibiting dynamic sun light at sunrise and sunset, the elevation change across the installation’s length, the ability to view the installation from above along an ad-jacent access road, as well as the possibility of viewing it from the rafting waters below. The artwork relies on the surrounding landscape and topography as a co-contributor to the pro-duction of the artistic expression. Thus, the relationship created permanently links unique place with event, artifact with landscape. The artistic world of illustration is much less physi-cally imposing and less integral with ecology.

Over the River will remain both permanent and impermanent. Without context, this site-specifi c art will cease to exist. It will have existed once, as a spectacle - an event linked to a specifi c time, geography and context.

Its permanence will be suspended by liv-ing memory, an evolution of stories and the faint physical traces left on the landscape. Is it possible that the signifi cance of Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s work derives from its physical and occupiable presence? Are their spatial artworks formative in the construction of memory, as opposed to illustration, which may rely on reference to existing memory?

ART IS NEVER JUST AN OBJECT and NEITHER IS ARCHITECTURE. Due to large-scale public misperception and professional misrepresentation, it is a radical departure to consider architecture’s primary intent as creat-ing opportunities for experiences rather than constructing objects.

“For instance, a chair is a practi-cal thing. You can see it, use it. It’s there. But when he wraps it, that’s another thing. With every great painting, there

Over the River, Project for the Arkansas River, State of Colorado by ChristoDrawing 2008 in 2 parts - 15 x 96” and 42 x 96”

Pencil, pastel, charcoal, wax crayon, enamel paint, fabric sample, twine, aerial photograph with topologic elevations and technical dataphotography by Wolfgang Volz

Copyright Christo 2008 Ref #68

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is a moment, a very special moment like when the sun sets and dusk comes. That is the moment of art.” - Christo’s broth-er, Anani, attempting to explain his broth-er’s work. 1

Art is the confl uence of three acts – a transfor-mative experience, a vehicle that sparks such an experience, and memory. Art may rely on objects, visuals, performances, sounds, tastes, odors, or textures, as a means of connecting to an audience. For many artists and architects, the very detailed construction of objects and buildings are the byproducts of a result driven, object fi xated profession. It is, however, the transformative and enriching connection forged with an audience that constitutes art. The unique construction of an object or a per-formance may be the means for eliciting such a connection between art and audience, but a connection to an audience may also rely on memory and personal references. The hard-est part to come to terms with intellectually is that intangibles, such as serendipity, timing and luck may be just as essential in making connections that enable art to reach full reso-nance. As much as material and place, timing is a strategic component in art.

The effectiveness of art depends on the es-tablishment of an intellectual and emotional connection. The inconsistency of art to make a personal connection could explain our in-ability to agree on what art is, and what it is not. This may also help explain some more perplexing pieces of work that have garnered critical acclaim. For instance, why is it that Marcel Duchamp can display a urinal, “Foun-tain” – 1917, (replica displayed 1964 Tate Modern, London) and it is considered art, while other urinals scattered across public bathrooms all over the world are either disre-garded as simply utility or viewed with dis-gust? If we were to repeat the exhibit in an art museum would it be considered art? Marcel Duchamp’s piece has many interpretations, but this work is certainly concerned with the

relationship of the object (urinal) with its cul-tural context (the selective and sacred space of an art museum).

Over the River depends on site and time as collaborators in the production of the artwork. If you were to consider the installation Over the River on the basis of its physical compo-nents, the sails and cables alone, you would miss the contextual relationship between the insertion of an alien object and a geographi-cally unique place.

“Jeanne-Claude and myself borrow space and create little disturbances for a few days. By borrowing that space, we inherit everything. Everything that is inherent to that space be-comes a part of the art.” (Christo Interview).

Bureaucratic, ecological, and political com-plexities are as entrenched and as infl uential in informing Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s work as the physical limitations imposed by site. Such examples are abundant, yet unique to all of their projects. Over the River inherits very detailed constraints such as appropriate locations for anchoring cables. An installa-tion with large fabric sails of this scale might have to accommodate certain migratory bird patterns or a specifi c rock outcropping. Over

Christo, Jeanne-Claude and collaborators survey the Arkansas River to select a site for “Over the River.”

Photpgraphy by Wolfgang Volz-Copyright Christo and Jeanne-Claude, 2000

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Over the River, Project for the Arkansas River, State of Colorado by ChristoCollage 2008 in 2 parts - 12 x 30 1/2” and 23 1/4 x 30 1/2”

Pencil, fabric, pastel, charcoal, wax crayon, enamel paint, aerial photograph with topographic elevationsphotography by Wolfgang Volz

Copyright Christo 2006 Ref #120

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the River is also obliged to consider existing dynamic systems affected by their installations as well as unknown systems such as crowd mitigation, navigation of expected traffi c and unexpected visitors. This project must consid-er, plan and accommodate all of these without harming native vegetation or local business. The political process surrounding these “in-herited” concerns, specifi c to time and place, often initiates lengthy debate. Context and timing are explicitly intended, public reaction is left to chance.

Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s installations have taken centuries to realize as a result of a lengthy political, permitting, and planning process. The political resonance of their work however, has been contingent on fortunate timing. Christo admits that the fortuitous tim-ing of their work has a great deal to do with luck. Jeanne-Claude and Christo may have to trust the political process to proceed with their art, but they certainly do not leave the length of their exhibits to chance. What is it that constitutes lasting value in the temporary installations of Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s exhibits?

“Do we not have a love and tenderness for our childhood, because we know it will not last? We have a love and tenderness for our life because we know, we will not last. This quality of immersions or special tenderness is an additional quality given to

our work. The work of art carries all of that because everybody is aware that the work will be gone tomorrow.... that this will be a unique experience and that urgency will be translated to the public.” (Christo Inter-view)

Jeanne-Claude and Christo believe that an audience is more likely to connect emotion-ally and to have fond memories of their ex-hibits because of a common bond with the fragility and fi nality of our own existence. If we are able to distinguish between making and referencing memory in art, architecture shares the advantages of ‘memory-making’ with the Over the River project. The spatial concerns of architecture, like those employed in Over the River, are intent on creating a con-nection to place and time through a palette of memorable places and experiences. But how might more permanent architecture convey the ‘urgency’ that the temporal quality of Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s works hope to achieve? If we are to believe that our memory is empathetic to that which is fl eeting, can architecture achieve endearment or fondness without temporality? Certainly objects have the power of permanence, but architecture has the sophistication of both permanence and potential of artfully empowering fl eeting moments.

Flexibility, expandability, and adaptability have become fashionable strategies in the ar-chitectural profession for work that anticipates a long lifespan. The ability to accommodate ever-changing modes of technologies, peda-gogies, lifestyles, social settings, and resources have prompted the industry to address these concerns. In turn, architects grapple with creating durable and fl exible spaces. If Over the River was durability tested, subjected to the test of time, could it maintain its experien-tial gravitas? If the names of the fallen soldiers on Maya Lin’s Vietnam Memorial scrolled digi-tally across the face of the monument would it resonate with such solemnity? If we were to

Christo, presents ‘Over the River’Photpgraphy by The Gazette, Colorado Springs

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consider architecture a practice of designing opportunities for enriching experiences, then perhaps we could have both, lasting objects worthy of our fastidious craft, as well as artful experiences rich in meaning and memory – however fl eeting.

I am assured by writing this article and there-by entering into a conversation initiated by Jeanne-Claude and Christo, that I am making a small contribution to their art, perpetuating the debate about their work, circling the pur-pose of art, and ultimately attending to their legacy. I have yet to visit one of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s works in person, but expect to visit Over the River. I am anticipating that the objects will be well-made. At the same time, I expect the scale of the installation may seem intrusive, intimidating, and awesome. I expect to arrive with some uncertainty and discover some surprises. I certainly hope that my expectations are exceeded amidst all these predetermined expectations. My desire to experience Jeanne-Claude and Christo’s work is compelled by art that exceeds materiality. I want to fi nd art because transformative experi-ences are extraordinary. We trust art to have that power - might we trust that of our archi-tecture?

NOTES:

1 Chernow, Burt. Christo and Jeanne-Claude: a Biography. St. Martin’s Press

New York. 2000: p304.

Aaron Herring, Assoc. AIA Aaron Herring is an artist and architectural designer. He led two fi nalist design competition entries: Urban Grass (2009), for the City of Phoenix’s Gimme Shelter:

National Ideas Competition for Urban Shade, and Flip-a-Strip, the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Arts’ New Ideas for Old Strip Malls (2008). Aaron has also been a lead designer and contributor to two other competition entries; Fences and Gates, an artistic proposal of two enclosures for the City of Phoenix, and Canalscape, an AIA sponsored competition to promote development along Arizona canals. In spring 2008, he team-taught at Joseph Zito Elementary School as part of the Phoenix Department of Arts and Culture ‘Artspace’ program. The curriculum, titled (Re)Play, engaged students, family, and communities to “(re)imagine, (re)place, and (re)build public play space.” An ASU faculty associate from 2006-2008, Aaron taught second year Architectural Studio for undergraduates. Aaron received his BA in Studio Art with an emphasis in fi gure drawing & sculpture from Indiana University Bloomington in 2000, and his Masters in Architecture from ASU in 2006. He currently works for Gould Evans in Phoenix, Arizona.

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Interviewed by Christina Noble & Aaron Herring, edited by Christina Noble

CONVERSATION: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ARTIST, CHRISTO

Christina: How do you fi nd inspiration for your more contemporary projects, let’s say your Over the River project that’s coming soon?

Christo: …Sometimes we have the site - like we had Central Park [for The Gates]… But sometimes we have the idea, like the Running Fence or Umbrellas or Over the River, for example. We titled [Over the River to suggest the idea of] suspending fabric panels way above the water and then experience the project from the banks of the river walking from above, walking down near the water, or rafting to experience the project above your head…

Most of the great rivers in the United States are born in the Rocky Moun-tains. The Rocky Mountains divide the water, some of the rivers fl ow to the Pacifi c Ocean, some of the rivers fl ow into the Mississippi River and Gulf of Mexico. In the summer of ’92, ’93, Jeanne-Claude and myself and our friends investigated eighty-nine rivers in the Rocky Mountains in the states of Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico. From the eighty-nine rivers we identifi ed six possible sites...

The Umbrellas, Japan-USA, 1984-1991by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

Copyright Christo and Jeanne-Claude 1991photography by Matt Jalbert

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1935

Bulgarian industrialist family.

Jeanne-Claude: American, French-born Jeanne-Claude Denat de Guillebon, June 13, 1935, Casablanca, of a French military family, educated in France and Switzerland. Died November 18, 2009, New York City.

1952Jeanne-Claude. Baccalaureat in Latin and Philosophy, University of Tunis.

1953-56

1957He studies one semester at the Vienna Fine Arts Academy.

1958Christo arrives in Paris where he meets Jeanne-Claude.Packages and Wrapped Objects

1960Birth of their son, Cyril, May 11. Cyril Christo is a poet. He studied at Cornell University and graduated from Columbia University in 1982. Five books of his poems have been published. In 1998 he married Marie B. Wilkinson. Their son Lysander Christo was born September 22, 2005.

1961Project for the Wrapping of a Public BuildingStacked Oil Barrels, Dockside Packages at Cologne Harbor. Tarpaulin and rope. Duration: 2 weeks.

1962Iron Curtain-Wall of Oil Barrels, Rue Visconti, Paris, 1961-62 240 barrels. Height: 4. 3 meters (14 feet). Width: 3. 8 meters (13 feet). Depth: 1. 7 meters (5 feet 6 inch). Duration: 8 hours.

Stacked Oil Barrels, Gentilly, near Paris.

Wrapped Woman 1962

Showcases.

1963Store Fronts and Show Windows

1964Establishment of permanent residence in New York City.

1966Air Package 1966. Stedelijk van Abbemuseum, Eindhoven, The Netherlands. Rubberized canvas balloon and rope Diameter: 5.18 meters (17 feet.). Duration: One month.

and Wrapped Tree 1966.

42,390 Cubicfeet Package 1966 at the Walker Art Center and the Minneapolis School of Art. Length:18 meters (60 feet) Polyethylene: 720 square meters (8,000 square feet). Manila rope: 914 meters (3,000 feet) Duration: Three days.

1968Wrapped Fountain and Wrapped Medieval Tower, Spoleto, Italy Polyethylene and ropes. Duration: 3 weeks.

Wrapping of a Public Building "Wrapped Kunsthalle Berne 1967-1968" Fabric: 2,430 square meters (27,000 square feet.) Rope: 3,050 meters (10,000 feet.) Duration: 7 days.

5,600 Cubicmeter Package, Documenta 4, Kassel, Germany 1967-68 An Air Package 82 meters (280 feet) high, six concrete foundations arranged in a 275 meter (900 foot) diameter circle. Fabric: 1,980 square meters (22,000 square feet) Weight: 6,350 kilograms (14,000 pounds). Rope: 3,657 meters (12,000 feet) Duration: two and a half months.

Corridor Store Front, total area: 135 square meters (1,500 square feet).

1,240 Oil Barrels Mastaba, and Two Tons of Stacked Hay, Philadelphia Institute of Contemporary Art.

1969Wrapped Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. Tarpaulin: 900 square meters (10,000 square feet) and rope. Duration: 40 days.

Wrapped Floor and Stairway. Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. House painter&Mac226;s cotton drop cloths, 252 square meters (2,800 square feet) and rope. Duration: 40 days.

Wrapped Coast, Little Bay, One Million Square Feet, Sydney, Australia, Erosion Control fabric: 90,000 square meters (1,000,000 square feet) and 58 kilometers. (36 miles) of ropes. Duration:Two months.

1970Wrapped Monuments, Milano: Monument to Vittorio Emanuele, Piazza del Duomo, Milano, Italy. Polyethylene and rope.Duration: Two days.

Monument to Leonardo da Vinci, Piazza della Scala, Milano, Italy. Polyethylene and rope. Duration: Seven days.

1971Wrapped Floors, Covered Windows and Wrapped Walk Ways, Haus Lange, Krefeld, Germany. House painter's cotton drop cloths. Duration: 30 days.

1972

(1,250-1,368 feet). Height: 56 &Mac246; 111 meters (185- 365 feet). Nylon polyamide fabric: 12,780 square meters (142,000 square feet). Steel cables: 49,895 kilograms (110,000 pounds); 800 tons of concrete. Duration: 28 hours.

1974The Wall, Wrapped Roman Wall, Via V. Veneto and Villa, Borghese, Rome, Italy. Polypropylene fabric and Dacron rope. Height: 15 meters (49 feet). Length: 250 meters (820 feet). Width varying between: 4 and 5,5 meters (13 to 18 feet). Duration: 40 days.

Ocean Front, Newport, Rhode Island. Surface: 128 x 97 meters (450 x 320 feet). 13,500 square

1976Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California, 1972-76. 5.5 meters. (18 feet ) high, 39.4 kilometers (24-1/2 miles) long, crossing 14 roads. 2,050 fabric panels: 192 square meters (240,000 square yards) of woven nylon fabric suspended from 144 kilometers (90 miles) of steel cables. 2,080 steel poles, each: 9 cm. (3-1/2 inch) diameter, 6.4 meters (21 feet long). Duration: 14 days.

1977The Mastaba, Project for United Arab Emirates, in progress.

1978Wrapped Walk Ways, Loose Park, Kansas City, Missouri, 1977-78 12,000 square meters (15,000 square yards) of woven nylon fabric over 4.5 kilometers (2.8 miles of walkways. Duration: 14 days.

1983Surrounded Islands, Biscayne Bay, Greater Miami, Florida, 1980-83. Pink woven polypropylene

days.

1984Wrapped Floors and Stairways and Covered Windows, Architecture Museum, Basel, Switzerland. House painter&Mac226;s cotton drop cloths. Duration: 30 days.

1985The Pont Neuf Wrapped, Paris, 1975-85. 40,876 square meters (454,178 square feet) woven polyamide fabric. 13,076 meters (42,900 feet ) of rope. Duration: 14 days.

1991The Umbrellas, Japan-U.S.A., 1984-91. 1,340 blue umbrellas in Ibaraki, Japan; 1,760 yellow umbrellas in California. Each umbrella: height: 6 meters (19 ft 8 in), diameter: 8.66 meters (28 ft 6 in). Valley size in Japan: Length: 19 kilometers (12 miles). Width: 4 kilometers (2. 5 miles). Valley size in USA: Length: 29 kilometers (18 miles). Width: 4 kilometers ( 2. 5 miles) Duration: 18 days.

1992Over The River, Project for The Arkansas River, Colorado. in progress.

1995Wrapped Floors and Stairways and Covered Windows 1995. Museum Würth, Künzelsau, Germany.

the glass of the windows. Duration: 3 months.

Wrapped Reichstag, Berlin, 1971-95. 100,000 square meters (1,076,000 square feet) of polypropylene fabric. 15,600 meters (51,181 feet) of rope and 200 metric tons of steel. Duration: 14 days.

1998Wrapped Trees, Fondation Beyeler and Berower Park, Riehen-Basel, Switzerland 1997-98. 178 trees. 53,283 square meters (592,034 square feet) of woven polyester fabric, 23 kilometers (14.3 miles) of rope. Duration: 21 days.

1999The Wall,13,000 Oil Barrels, Gasometer, Oberhausen, Germany,1998-99. An indoor installation. Height: 26 meters (85 feet). Width: 68 meters (223 feet). Depth: 7.23 meters (24 feet). Duration: 6 months.

2005

panels, anchored to 15,006 steel bases on 37 kilometers (twenty-three miles) of walkways. Duration: 16 days.

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20142014Over the River, Colorado 1992-2014, 5.9 miles of fabric panels over 42miles of the Arkansas RiverDuration:14 days

Graphic Timeline by Aaaron HerringArtwork by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

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Now, you should understand all our projects are temporary works of art, design[ed] for a particular season of the year. For example, The Gates proj-ect was a winter project because we like to have leafl ess trees so you can see the gates… The Over the River project was a summer project because we like to have the rafters. The rafters only go down the river in the sum-mer…

By the end of ’96, early ’97 we came to consensus that for aesthetical pur-poses, construction purposes and many other purposes, this 42 miles of Arkansas River between Salida and Cañon City running east-west was the most suitable for our project…While we have the site of the Arkansas River, we start[ed] working on the permissions. And permission is the most dif-fi cult part of our project. Everything in the world is owned by somebody…We [discovered] right away that almost the entire 42 miles of Arkansas River, 98%, is owned by the United States Federal Government Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management… The Bureau of Land Management is really in charge to manage the land. Basically they rent the land to states, to corporations, ranchers, … sometimes they even sell the land…Basically, we need[ed] to get permission from the owner, the old leaser - the states of Colorado, a variety of different agencies, and two private entities. During the Clinton administration, we [had] great support from the Department of Interior - at that time the secretary of the interior was Bruce Babbit, former governor of Arizona and a big admirer of our work. Mr. Babbit helped us to move the permitting process.

Actually I remember, [we gave] a presentation about Over the River. He

The Umbrellas, Japan-USA, 1984-1991by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

Copyright Christo and Jeanne-Claude 1991photography by Matt Jalbert

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summons[ed] all his employees at ten o’clock in the morning that day, so they could ask questions … but in 2001 something happened for the project we start[ed] in 1979, called The Gates.

The project was start[ed] in ’79…and when a friend of ours for many years was suddenly elected mayor of new York City, Mr. Michael R. Bloomberg, we conserved our all resources to fi nally achieve permission for The Gates project, this is in 2001 … and only in 2006, we return[ed] again to working on the permits for Over the River. At that time it was the Bush administration. We had a very diffi cult time with the Bush administration, but a number of employees of the Department of the Interior [were] still the same and fi nally the Bush administration accept[ed] our request for an environmental impact statement…

Our application with the Over the River project is called the Christo-Jeanne-Claude Over the River project the standard/signed planning report. The statement is 2,029 pages and cost us one and a half million dollars. The federal government hire[d] another independent company that we [couldn’t] talk to – [we could] only pay their bills to prepare our environmental impact statement. Our environmental impact statement is part of the very important law signed by the very unusual president for this time in apparently 1970, President Nixon, called the NEPA, National Environ-

Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California, 1972-1976 by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

photography by Jeanne-ClaudeCopyright Christo 1976

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Both Images: The Gates, Central Park, New York City, 1979-2005by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

photography by Wolfgang VolzCopyright Christo and Jeanne-Claude 2005

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mental Policy Act. That law addressed that any human endeavor of enormous size, like building airports, highways, dams, or construction of bridges that they will go to review of national environmental policy act.…This was the fi rst time in the his-tory of the NEPA that ever a work of art had an environmental impact statement. Actually, in the NEPA, art is not part of the discussion… The 16th of July the Federal Government release[d] that study for comments [until September 14th]. [The com-ments] will be compiled, and classifi ed, for example traffi c, wildlife, … and will be given to the federal government, [then] sometime in late April will issue the ROD, meaning the record of decision…But that is only for the Over the River.

That is, each project has its own story.

Christina: It sounds like your aesthetic considerations help you select the site and then you deal with all the permitting issues secondarily - is that accurate?

Christo – No. No, not at not at all, like the architect I don’t have a clear vision right away. No, aesthetically the project is crystallized by the permitting process or to the working of the site. I can tell you one important thing - I should say all our projects [have] a unique image meaning that we will never build another running fence, never build another gate, will never wrap up another parliament. Beneath their im-age, we do not know how it will look and of course, I do drawings, collages, scaled models, but scale models cannot substitute the real things. This is why all our proj-ects we [create] in a secret place, somewhere far away where nobody can see us, life-sized scales, meaning one-to-one scale not of the entire project, a one-to-one scale section of the project. We can elaborate the materials - the steel, ropes, the cables, all these things, and I can spend time with all the engineers, Jeanne-Claude and myself decide what kind of fabric, what colors, how should we build many things. And, this life-sized test is done for all the projects. For the Over the River, on a private ranch, far away from Arkansas River, near the Colorado-Utah border, we had a small brook and lot of similar confi gurations like the banks of Arkansas River. We conducted four life-sized tests in the late 90s- ‘97, ‘98, and ‘99 we fi nal-ized the material, the cables everything…The project [went] through a lot of work, very much like a building, a skyscraper, [as] part of the permitting process when we [made] the application to the federal government all this was part of our applica-tion…

Christina: Are there any projects where they’ve asked you to make concessions and instead you choose not to do it or say well, we’ll just wait and try again.

Christo: [This is] why we not do commissions, because the permitting process is very essential for a work of art. A work of art builds her own identity through the permitting process…

We always say the work of art [has] two distinct periods, the software period and the hardware period. The software period is the working of the drawings the sketches, the scale model, and the mind of a thousand people who try to stop us and the mind of a thousand people who try to help us. The work does not exist. And that is the software period. When we get the permission, we [are in] the hard-

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ware period and we are working with the physicality of the work.

But you understand that it is important that it is gratifying for any artist that the people discuss the work of art before the work exists… All works exist before they physically exist. Of course that is a very important part of the work of art. The work of art is all the years of preparation and organization. There [are] not only the fourteen days of exhibition. All that period of years - sometimes three years, sometimes twenty years, and sometimes ten years - that is all the work of art.

Aaron: I was wondering how collaboration works for you and your partners and if you can describe that a little bit for us.

Christo: You’re very right that this project is not only done by Jeanne-Claude and myself. [It would be] impossible to do the project if we didn’t have an incredible team of people...For example, we cannot do Over the River without the team of Mr. Davenport and his wife, Jonita, the project director of Over the River. He is the chief engineer in construction - you know there

Wrapped Reichstag, Berlin, 1971-1995by Christo and Jeanne-Claude

photography by Wolfgang VolzCopyright Christo 1995-2005

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are people you live with who you know for nearly 20 years, and of course now we have this nucleus of friends. And for Over the River we [hired] professionals who are all kinds of specialists in Colorado.

For all our projects we have two types of work force, we have professional people -[like an] average construction job, we have steel workers, construction workers… [And, for] the fi nal installation we need non-skilled workers…[The non-skilled workers will] go one week, then there’s training at the site to learn how to do things.

Christina: There are also environmental or experiential qualities that surround your projects…

Christo: Yes, the dynamics of our projects is an important part. [For the Over the River project] we completed many wind tunnel tests with the fabric, but it became like cement – [we tried] solid fabric like the domes, like the fabric in the Denver Airport, but it did not move with the wind…For Over the River we are using a heavy woven polypropylene fi ber because it is very loosely woven…From above, the fabric will have a silver color that will actually absorb the light of the sun. This is one of the reasons we chose the Arkansas River - because we have morning light [at the] east entrance of rosy, pinkish light, we have in the middle of the day the sun on the top, and at sunset we have we have this gorgeous golden light in the west. The project will climb from fi ve thousand, eight hundred feet altitude to seven thousand feet altitude at the western end, with much open sky.

The project will take you one and a half hours to see by driving. It will take three to four hours to experience the project inside. Inside the project meaning the fabric is above you - sometimes about eight, nine feet above you and sometimes it is ten feet above you. And the fabric is not always horizontal because one bank of the river is higher than another. And this very intricately moves all the time. Through the fabric you can see a cloud formation and a quarter of the mountain. It is very different, a totally different perception. And the folds of the fabric [will be] sewn with the movement of the water [to] create an incredible play of shadow underwa-ter. This is very intricate, [we made a] life-sized test to create the movement of the wind, meaning that each fabric panel moves totally separately like the waves in the ocean. …It is incredibly mesmerizing - you see how the wind carries through that fabric. Actually, the wind became visible, you cannot see the wind, but with the fabric we can see the wind.

Christina: We’d also like to talk about your ideas of lasting memory with your proj-ects. Your projects are only in place for a short duration of time - what do you think is the relationship between that short duration of time and what people’s memory of your work should be?

Christo: Jeanne-Claude [said] the history of art for thousands of years did all kinds of things - the fresco, television, writing instruments - different qualities of tech-nique, marble, wood, bronze - all kinds of different materials, religious, profound, abstract - all kinds of art, but they never used tenderness and love. We have some-

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thing that does not last. We have a love and tenderness for our childhood - we know it will not last. We have a love and tenderness for our life because we know we will not last. This quality of immersions or special tenderness we like to give to our works of art, it is an additional quality the works of art will carry because everybody is aware that the work will be gone tomor-row…Because we never do the same things again, this will be a unique experience and that urgency is translated to the public. The Gates exist[ed] only once in February of 2005 for sixteen days. I did drawings about The Gates. There are still photographs about The Gates, the fi lm about The Gates, the books about The Gates, but The Gates only [lasted] sixteen days. The same thing for all our projects and this is why we are very different from other artists.

Some will think that it is a bad thing. I’ll tell you an example, for twenty-fi ve years we were working very hard to get permission for the wrapping of the Reichstag. There are many drawings, many scale models, but for fourteen days in 2005 in June, July there was the Reichstag Wrapped. We see many

Wrapped Reichstag, Berlin, 1971-1995, view of West and South facadesby Christo and Jeanne-Claude photography by Wolfgang Volz

Copyright Christo 1995

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fi lms about the Vietnam War - the blood and killing, but there is no blood in the movie theatre…This is why most of art today is illustration, but our project is not il-lustration. We borrow - I can tell you this is a very important part of all our works...The three-dimensional image, the three-dimensional work of art, the painting is a fl at, fl at surface on the wall. [With sculpture you can] go around the object, all around, sometimes the sculpture can be very big, like Alexander Calder, you can go inside it. But all that space is organized by the artist. The artist has full control of that space. And this is how the three-dimensional work of art exists. Now, there is another space we think very little about. The moment you walk out of your home, you start to walk on the sidewalk. Somebody designed this sidewalk. You cross the streets, you have a red and green light. Somebody designed this… Jeanne-Claude and myself, we borrow that space and we create a little disturbance for a few days. By borrowing that space we inherit everything what is inherent to that space to be-come a part of the work of art. We did not invent the NEPA environmental impact statement, it was there, we inherited that. Now, we didn’t invent the decision of wrapping of the Reichstag or the politics of the Reichstag, we inherited them by doing that project, meaning that the work of art is so big, so complex that we can never absorb or understand what the work means to the people…And that is the important part and this is why this unique moment when the work is for fourteen days it translates that uniqueness.

Christina: Do you see inheriting a site or structure’s qualities or characteristics as the same thing as highlighting or calling attention to them?

Valley Curtain, Rifl e, Colorado, 1970-1972by Christo and Jeanne-Claude photography by Wolfgang Volz

Copyright Christo 1972-2005

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Christo: No, we are not masochists. We [would] like to have the project be as easy as possible…But actually there is a lot of humor in that. There is a lot of humor, you don’t understand how there is humor, but there is a very, very delicate humor. Imagine that we [could] get the permission in a much easier way from the federal government, but the federal government was caught and we play[ed] games like a fi sherman who throws the net, the hook, we threw the hook and the federal government grabs the hook. That the permitting process became so complex gave this incredible dimension to the work that we, Jeanne-Claude and myself, [were] not aware…In the very end how we go to this seven-million dollar expense is so foolish for 14 days. We paid all the money, [it wasn’t] taxpayer money… During the pub-lic hearing just last week, some young man [commented] that this project is bigger than Louisiana pollution because we’ll never have so much discus-sion about drilling in Louisiana and…getting permission for Over the River was a simple project for fourteen days…I always said how the project there is irrational, foolish, absolutely unnecessary. And the government is caught and they play our game and we play the game and they see our project go out of proportion like the case of the Reichstag, [where the project went] to the parliament for a decision. All that gives this enormous dimension to the work, enhancing the work. Of course, we [would] gladly like to do it much less expensively much [more] simply. Well, we try but we fail.

Artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude displaying “Over the River” in Denver, Colorado. Jeanne-Claude passed away November 18, 2009. Photography by Ed Andrieski

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11 Aaron Herring, Assoc. AIA is an artist and architectural designer. Aaron received his BA in Studio Art with an emphasis in fi gure drawing & sculpture from Indiana University

Bloomington in 2000, and his Masters in Architecture from ASU in 2006. He currently works for Gould Evans in Phoenix, Arizona.

Christina Noble, AIA, LEED AP Forward Director owns her own practice, Contour Architecture, located in Phoenix, Arizona. She believes in the power of design to incite positive

change for the betterment of local communities. Christina graduated from Rice University with her Bachelor of Architecture.

Aaron: Do you think that the Over the River project is that much more important now because of the current events that surround the things you were talking about?

Christo: Absolutely, yeah, exactly - the same thing with the Reichstag. But that is why we don’t do commission…Imagine the gratifi cation we have that we synthe-size for hundreds of thousands of people through Colorado, outside of Colorado, to visualize how the project will look beautiful. And actually it was not secret, you know I would go to many public hearings and when I [went] to speak, I [turned] to an opponent of the project who was there and said that I was very happy that you here, because you make my project more important. They [were] very furious.

Aaron: So there is a perfect time for each project to be built for you, would you say?

Christo: I think so. I can tell you a lovely story with the Reichstag project. The Reichstag project was refused in 1977. And there [were] two editorials against the Reichstag, one was in one of the most important German newspapers – it is the national newspaper in Germany - who was against the project. Another was the Pravda in the Soviet Union. Now, I knew very well that I would get permission before the Wall collapsed in 1989, and of course the Pravda was saying that the wrapping of the Reichstag is taking down capitalist art. If we wrap[ed] the Reich-stag during the cold war, it would be a footnote in the cold war history. But by do-ing the project after the fall of the Wall the project [had] a much greater dimension to all of Germany…

Aaron: Are there upcoming projects and/ or have you learned from the projects that you’ve done in the past and how would you implement them in the in the future? Do you still have a body of work you want to complete?

Christo: We don’t learn anything in the past…The most terrible, the most stupid thing is to approach a project with the naiveté that the other project will help you…We try to apply the things we learned before, but they [are] not as easy, they [are] not the right way and we need to go another way. This is all [from] our laziness to be comfortable, we try to apply something we know… But you need to trust people, how much you can trust people, how much can talk, how much you can acknowledge you know better, they know better. How you know is very compli-cated. I cannot give you advice on that.

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by Jenna Didier and Oliver Hess

CONNECTING THE DOTSINTERSTITIAL LAND USE AND THE IMPLEMENTATION OF COLLECTIVE DESIGN STRATEGY

Studies revealed how densities of pattern produce different resolution of featheringdrawings by Nick Gelpi

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In the urban mesh, gaps exist – vacant spots that even the most vigorous developers have not been able to monetize. Most U.S. cities also lack open space per capita. Los Angeles, for example, has barely one acre of open park space per one thousand residents[1]. Los Angeles, like many cities also has a large amount of apparently abandoned and blighted piece of land mostly in depressed regions of the city that are especially park poor. Why do we not use the empty spaces already embedded in our communities? We suspect that is is because residents and property owners alike lack engagement and a true sense of ownership over their immediate environment - this is especially true in badly blighted communities. Similar to banking and commerce, elaborate mechanisms

Bubbles, 2007 design by FoxLin, Non Design, Brand Name Label and Axel Kilian. Photo by Coy Koehler. Materials: Steel, con-crete, ripstop, mylar tubes, fans and sensors, CNC cut HDPE.

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control the built environment, leaving the average person feeling powerless to exert meaningful infl uence over even his or her own street.

In direct response to this crisis of non-engagement, Materials & Applications (M&A) offers a site for experimentation in architecture and landscape. Our experimental courtyard space and community programs function as a platform for emerging designers and as an entry point for anyone curious about architecture’s tools, ideas, and implementation. These complimentary goals work to coalesce specialists and enthusiasts

who share knowledge and ideas, while building aptitude in craft, construction and problem-solving.

Many of the past decade’s most interesting architectural designs have existed only as digital renders. As an early research priority, M&A sought to realize these elaborate virtual spaces into actual places, and explore how they fared once gravity, material, and budgetary limits were imposed. Exhibitions in our outdoor courtyard were the starting point and continue to be at the core of our programming. M&A accepts proposals on a rolling basis from architects, artists, or anyone

Light Frames, designed by Gail Peter Borden. Opening. Photo by Chris Ball.

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with a great idea that can show suffi cient levels of competence and passion to complete a project. The courtyard is 40’ x 25’, bounded on two sides by neighboring buildings and fl anked by a sidewalk in a pedestrian-friendly, newly-boutiqued neighborhood. Since the unsupervised courtyard space is open to the public, free of charge for twelve or more hours a day, projects must be durable, safe, and site-specifi c. A winning proposal challenges the boundaries of what can be done, even to the point of risking failure.

Over the span of eight years since M&A opened in 2002, fourteen installations have been completed on site. Interestingly, from small budget projects of $5,000 to large budget projects of $40,000, the costs of

materials and manufacturing did not follow a simple upward swing of a line chart relating funding to quality of environment. In fact, some of the installations that received popular approval, attention in the press, and AIA Design Honor awards, like Ball-Nogues’ Maximillian’s Schell or Didier Hess’ Here There Be Monsters, had the smallest budgets.

Here There Be Monsters evolved when a hole in our program opened as no exhibitor wanted to show after Maximillan’s Schell, an installation that even today defi nes the genre that we are interested in. We decided to create an installation ourselves for the space, using almost no budget we simply defi ned the criteria that we wanted an installation at M&A to possess and went about creating it as a

Here There Be Monsters, 2006. Didier Hess in collaboration with Workshop Levitas. Photo courtesy M&A. Materials: Bamboo, zip ties, EDPM liner, submersible pumps, aquatic plants, surveillance equipment, electtronic hardware and software, rainwater.

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111Yakuza Lou, by Eddy Sykes. Photograph by Brian Janeczko

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Fat Fringe MatterAPP workshop at Fix Gallery led by LAYER, 2010. Photo by Henry Cheung.

template for future developments. We looked for experts in various fi elds to collaborate with, including Bruce Danziger from Arup who engineered the bamboo bridge. Drawing on our own skills, interests, and a volunteer community we fl ooded the entire courtyard with rain water, built the woven bamboo bridge over it and submerged 48 variable frequency drive pumps in the 18” deep water which were all computer controlled. We spent the summer honing the software that controlled the pumps to respond with various patterns of burbling jets to human gestures, facial expressions, and simple hand or arm motions. We also analyzed the performance of the materials we used in the building of the piece. After a six month run, the installation was demolished, with nearly all the materials recycled or reused except some fasteners. It was a project built for research not just in the building method but also in the performance, wear, and after-life of materials. We set a new standard to demonstrate how we want M&A to be used for artists and designers. The goal is to provide an opportunity to explore how the infl uence of an installation will extend months and years in the future. In many ways, that is what makes architecture an important fi eld, it traditionally had a responsibility to the creation of culture through the durability and signifi cance of construction itself. Buildings typically are designed to last, and so to the responsibilities of time, survival and cultural

merit exists in the work of M&A.

In addition to the exhibition series, M&A has programs that invite anyone to participate in the practice and dialogue of architecture through full-capacity, design-related lectures and open-air discussions as well as hands-on workshops covering topics as diverse as green roof construction or thin shell ice structures. Our desire to engage architectural practitioners as well as laypeople led to a series of workshops where specialists in related fi elds taught business and property owners storm water management and rainwater catchment design. M&A produced a bilingual brochure for the series that is still in use.

As an extension of our programming, over the past couple years, we have developed a new hybrid approach for both workshops and exhibitions that encourage hands-on learning and group collaboration in the conceptualization and execution of design. As suggested by Dennis Dollens, we call the new format MatterAPP and base it on a meritocracy of social building where the group focuses on a selected problem, such as “how could we create shade that is light and permeable?” A specialist in a related fi eld begins the fi rst session with a presentation and guided model making which leads to the group creating working models whose strategies can be assimilated or used in another iteration. The models are passed around the group, and some may ultimately develop into an installation at the M&A courtyard or other off-site location.

MatterAPP resolves problems in a multidimensional space that cannot be effectively modeled any other way. Understood as a kind of social computer, the organization tackles issues such as fatigue analysis, fabrication techniques, technical training, socializing, materials testing, community insight, and cultural rehabilitation -- all optimized and balanced for the needs

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of those involved. For example, MatterAPP explores how the wisdom of crowds can act as an optimization of evolutionary design to overcome the creative decomposition seen in vertical design infrastructures where bureaucracy and engorged budgets reduce details and shrink boldness.

There is a procedural form to the adage “wisdom of the masses” that we try to explore when we create a matterApp project. By priming participants with informed research, talks or lectures, and encouraging the participation of a variety of people with differing backgrounds, the average of what they produce creatively should be useful. Beyond that, the outlying concepts defi ne a terrain of exploration that in an iterative approach a team can effectively traverse. In the paper folding for Fat Fringe designed by LAYER, we found during the four workshop series, a mix of people from greeting card makers to fi lm sound mixers would attend, and although on fi rst glance they would share little in common vis-a-vis the forms they were creating, a random insight from any one of them during our frequent critique sessions would spark the jumping off point for the next round of development. We quickly grew a taxonomy of hundreds of small paper models that illustrated what a strong, beautiful, easy-to-assemble tile would probably look like. Because we built so many and shared all the details, individual egos were removed from the process - ie. nobody felt bad about physically ripping apart a model, or disassembling to trace and make their own version to add onto. Because there is no learning agenda and people participate voluntarily, the quality of social and technical development is appreciated by everyone involved.

With each project that we undertake we create workshops that explore the development of ideas and techniques. Frequently this means bringing in experts to

Fat Fringe Origami Experiments. Photo by Jenna Didier.

Fat Fringe by Layer. Photo by Henry Cheung.

Fat Fringe by Layer. Photo by Oliver Hess.

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inform us about the challenges that lie ahead with a specifi c design or concept that has been proposed. However sometimes it is a latent interest that we wish to bring to the forefront for no other reason than spurring more proposals or projects that share a particular approach within our community. In 2005 we invited Dr. Robert Lang, the noted origamist to come and discuss his perspective on surface folding and shape making. We recognized that a great deal of the work that was interesting to M&A was CNC-based fabrication and we wanted ways to relate the human process back to the repetitive construction steps common in parametric

products. Origami seemed like the perfect bridge for development. Besides the obvious contrast of a fl exible 2D material becoming a strong 3d form. Numerous projects have now been produced which reference origami, some directly and some indirectly; including Yakuza Lou from Eddy Sykes which developed into an amazing series of mechanical systems and Fat Fringe which will no doubt spawn an interesting lineage of it’s own iterations.

M&A’s next goal extends our programming to blighted, interstitial urban zones. For example, a recent case study by Nicholas de Monchaux[2] for the UCLA WPA 2.0

Food Pyramid, by Didier Hess. Photo by Scott Mayoral.

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Bank, and subsequently distributed to meals programs throughout the City.”[3] Their goal with the Victory Garden was to popularize urban gardening - encouraging city-dwellers to grow their own produce and thus shrink their carbon-footprint. The urban gardening movement is growing steadily, although the goal of 100% self-reliance is still a ways off.

Our experience in this area is focused on stacking functions - that is, using the effort it takes to resurface a parking lot, repair a facility’s gutters, and plant vegetables and shade trees by pooling resources to achieve all of these and more. In 2008, we were commissioned by the Environmental Resources Department of Los Angeles in response to the linked problems of polluted storm water fl ushing into the ocean from Los Angeles, the lack of water infi ltration in this city, and the worsening water shortage. Our solution was to target small business owners and encourage them to transform their parking lots from water sheeting and heat amplifying nightmares into oases that are rimmed with trees, vegetable gardens, and infi ltration swales that channel stormwater through vegetated areas before fl ushing out to the stormdrain. Over a series of weekends, we held workshops led by specialists in rainwater catchment, stormwater management, and stormwater-friendly landscaping. The result is now a vegetable and fruit tree garden surrounding a busy parking lot where both tenants and employees grow their own vegetables and herbs, and the parking lot no longer fl oods during rains. The facility captures 300 gallons of its own rainwater off the roof to use on vegetables, and the air conditioner off the south facing wall of the building drips condensation onto a vine that grows up the wall and reduces the thermal impact of the sun on this side of the building, therefor reducing the reliance on air conditioning.

Building off our experience in the parking lot,

competition sponsored by UCLA Citylab, (wpa2.aud.ucla.edu) mapped the blighted, government-owned properties of San Francisco to reveal that these areas also defi ned the areas of highest heat island effect and problematic stormwater runoff - as well as higher crime rates and poorer health of the communities bordering each site. Taken as a whole, these areas of San Francisco comprise a square acreage as large as Golden Gate Park. Monchaux speculates that addressing the blight through greening and stormwater management strategies would decrease if not eliminate the need for more expensive utilities upgrades to sewers and electrical supplies to these areas. By strategically tackling small, problematic sites, Monchaux could achieve a much broader goal of providing sustainable solutions that add valued community space, eliminate problematic community blight, and reduce additional loads on community services.

Both The Studio for Urban Projects and ReBAR have taken action to green parts of San Francisco that were previously nothing but asphalt. The temporary Civic Center Victory Garden these two design-based organizations created in 2008 is a great example as is the current Urban Wildfl ower Meadow that ReBar is collaborating with Pollinator Partnership to design. The 2008 Victory Garden existed in the great plaza in front of City Hall as a large series of planting beds that defi ned by sand bags and over-fl owing with thriving vegetables. All the labor was provided by volunteers. “Wedged between San Francisco’s Civic Center, an area that contains many of the city’s largest government and cultural institutions, and the Tenderloin, a neighborhood shackled with signifi cant poverty, homelessness, and crime, the garden stood as a true social and political experiment. Within weeks, this new ‘Garden of Communities’ was producing approximately 100 lbs of fresh organic produce a week, all of which was donated to the San Francisco Food

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similar to the UCLA Citylab project, we would target blighted, interstitial urban zones in a methodical and rigorous manner that focuses on the needs and resources of a site to arrive at the optimum design solution that promotes community engagement while making positive environmental impacts. In Los Angeles, many tracts are too small to develop and are left over from adding a turning lane or removing the city’s historic streetcars. A recent survey commissioned from the County Assessor reveals color-coded vacant parcels:

Many of these areas may be donated or “leased” to a community for extended periods of time. This would allow the small spaces to be fi tted with small but signifi cant improvements to aid the community. We propose a kind of “urban acupuncture”[4] transforming these sites in order to stimulate the local community. Community members would take an active interest in their neighborhoods by providing a sense of control over their surroundings.

Through workshops we would empower individuals to execute the labor required and take ownership over radical and exciting new creations targeted to their neighborhood. Geospatial analysis and KMZ maps are integral to this process - for locating potential sites, and encouraging people in these neighborhoods to participate in selecting the best site for a transformation via cell phone or website. To achieve these goals, M&A will collaborate with groups who are already engaged in community-focused uses of the creative process to inspire neighborhood building and a sense of place. An updated call for proposals will anticipate a shift in expectations such that the M&A courtyard would become a proving ground for future installations that would be relocated to a pre-selected, legally and physically cleared site. This design strategy would assess the needs and resources at the remote site to arrive at a design that encompasses the curb

and landscape conditions to include Low Impact Design (LID) and greening strategies in neighborhoods in need of revitalization and greening.

Regaining a sense of control over our surroundings can be achieved through community-engaged transformation of small areas of blight scattered across every city. The budgets to transform each site are not large compared to current impacts upon city resources, health, safety, and the environment. Their small, manageable scale makes them feasible as community projects, to be completed over several work-weekends. M&A has proven that unskilled volunteers, when guided by architects and other professionals, can design and build high quality, exhilarating constructions that provide stimulus for greater civic participation and pride in a neighborhood. In the future we hope to continue to serve as a center for exciting ideas and forward minded people to continue to grow and transform our built environment.

NOTES

1. The National Recreation and Parks Association recommend 10 acres of park

space per 1,000 residents. Los Angeles barely reached 10% of this national

standard with a mere 1.107 acres per 1,000 residents. In a recent study, the

Trust for Public Land found that only 34% of children in Los Angeles were

within one-quarter of a mile of a park. This compares with Boston where 78%

of children are within one-quarter of a park; New York with 59% and Atlanta

with 43%. Source: Los Angeles Neighborhood Land Trust

2. Local Code : Real Estates uses geospatial analysis to identify thousands of

publicly owned abandoned sites in major US cities, imagining this distributed,

vacant landscape as a new urban system. Using parametric design, a landscape

proposal for each site is tailored to local conditions, optimizing thermal and

hydrological performance to enhance the whole city’s ecology—and relieving

burdens on existing infrastructure. Local Code’s quantifi able effects on energy

usage and storm water remediation eradicate the need for more expensive, yet

invisible, sewer and electrical upgrades. In addition, the project uses citizen

participation to conceive a new, more public infrastructure as well —a robust

network of urban greenways with tangible benefi ts to the health and safety of

every citizen. Source: http://vimeo.com/8080630

3. http://www.rebargroup.org/projects/victorygarden/

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4.Urban Acupuncture is an urban environmentalism theory of Finnish architect,

Professor Marco Casagrande which combines urban design with traditional

Chinese medical theory of acupuncture. Casagrande views cities as complex

energy organisms in which different overlapping layers of energy fl ows are

determining the actions of the citizens as well as the development of the city.

By mixing environmentalism and urban design Casagrande is developing

methods of punctual manipulation of the urban energy fl ows in order to create

an ecologically sustainable urban development towards the so-called Third

Generation City(post industrial city). Casagrande has developed the theory at

the Tamkang University of Taiwan. Source: http://helsinkiacupuncture.blogspot.

com

Jenna Didier is in pursuit of a new approach to the built environment. A lifelong interest in the creation and

use of public space led her to Los Angeles and dual careers in water systems design and public art. In 2002 Jenna founded M&A. She and Oliver Hess collaborate on public art commissions. Currently they are working on several, including a new gateway over the 101 freeway for downtown Los Angeles in collaboration with Ned Kahn. She received the 2009 Neutra Spirit Award for professional excellence.

Oliver Hess constructs responsive environments and the technical systems that support them. He uses skills developed from his work in visual effects and technical direction to create art that has been displayed in galleries around the globe and to assist other artists, architects and designers with new media installations. As a partner of the art collaborative Didier Hess and co-director of M&A, he oversees technical aspects of the installations and collaborates on the conceptualization and design development of each piece. He was a 2009 TED Fellow.

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by Ted Shelton and Tricia StuthDESIGNING FOR THE UNSEEN SITE

Vertical Horizontalphotography by Cynthia Pachikara

The porch ceiling of our recent project, the Ghost Houses, is painted blue. (Fig. 1) It is a pleasant surprise in a project whose exterior is other-wise relentlessly black and white. For us this act offers more than a visual counterpoint within the color palette. Painting the ceilings of porches blue is a regional vernacular practice, a response to a wives’ tale claim-ing this will deter insects. (We can verify that this is untrue.) Perhaps less familiar to East Tennesseans, the particular hue comes from Polychromie Architecturale, a color system created by Le Corbusier. This design act

Polaroids of the original houses taken by the City Codes Violations Inspector and collected as part of condemnation proceedings in 1987. Photographs courtesy of the City of Knoxville Archives, Permits and Violations.

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Fig. 1. Blue porch ceiling of the Ghost Houses. Photography by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

ties the project both to a universal discourse surrounding the practice of architecture since the turn of the twentieth century and to local building traditions that predate that strand of inquiry. We call opportunities like this ‘design-ing for the unseen site’ and enjoy the recipro-cal potential it invites. Whereas the particulars of the physical site – and mixed residential/industrial neighborhood just outside of down-town Knoxville, Tennessee - suggest little connection to the regional vernacular and none to the work of Le Corbusier, by attach-ing these ideas to the site we both expand our understanding of place and allow comple-mentary interaction of otherwise divergent concepts. Something as simple and affordable as paint allows the project to exceed bound-aries of time and location. The unseen site is the environment of ideas, histories, and cultural practices in which a project is im-mersed. Designing for the unseen site allows us to augment the physical dimensions of the project’s location, the “land as it lay this way and that.”1 The dimensions of the unseen site

can be defi ned through our own interests and curiosities or might be attached to the physical site through the force of statute. By manipulat-ing the unseen site we modify the landscape in which we are operating to create the possi-bility of accomplishing something worthwhile, authentic, and meaningful. This landscape of ideas, what Carol Burns has termed the “con-strued site,” escapes temporal limitations and interacts with the physical site to give rise to new understandings and readings.2 Working in this way allows us to transcend functional and spatial problem solving. While a new project’s fi rst design moves are always con-cerned with fundamentals of the physical site such as view, topography, access, and solar orientation, often aspects of the unseen site provide our fi rst signifi cant design foothold. This article examines the importance of the unseen site in three of our projects.

Ghost Houses

The aforementioned Ghost Houses grew out of a contradictory combination of the physical and unseen site. Yet, the project exists because of, not in spite of, these challenges. The proj-ect’s location is a residential lot in an inner-ring urban neighborhood. Three nearly identi-cal houses were built on the site around 1915. When we purchased the lot only the center house remained, the others had been de-molished in the 1980’s despite efforts to save them. (Figure 2) Due to its age and detailing the county deemed the house historically sig-nifi cant and assigned a historic zoning over-lay to the lot. Yet, the underlying zoning was typical of suburban residential development, having little to do with either the neighbor-hood or the lot’s history. This zoning allowed no additional construction on the lot. (Fig 3)

Thus, two aspects of the unseen site were in confl ict – how the site was remembered and valued, and how it was legally described. While code is typically the most intractable aspect of the unseen site, the memory of the

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Fig. 2 - The historic house and lot as it appeared when we purchased the property in 2005. Photography by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

lost houses provided a lever that we used to overcome restrictions. The historic homes existed in ephemera such as photographs and newspaper articles and in the clear accounts of longtime neighborhood residents and census data. By repeatedly attaching these memories to the lot, we were able to acquire the many variances and approvals required to proceed.

Evocation of the unseen site orders the de-sign of the project as well. We assumed the massing of the lost houses and developed a market rate duplex and a single–family home that oscillate between the archetypal and the unique in response to timely and timeless concerns. While the houses’ envelopes are strictly defi ned by the form and massing of the lost houses, matching their fl oor line, eave line and roof pitch, their interiors are ordered by the dictates and desires of their current inhabitants. Thus, the unseen site creates a challenge requiring advanced spatial play in order to defi ne spaces for contemporary living within volumes originally conceived accord-ing to very different economic, technical, and social constraints. The result is a composition of three structures, two new and one historic, whose reading oscillates between now and then. The unseen “ghost” houses manifest themselves once more through the new con-struction. (Figs 4-6)

Fig. 4 - The “light chimney” in the single family house reinterprets a formal gesture found throughout the historic neighborhood; inherent proportions however serve alternate daylight, ventilation, and water

heating needs, to begin. Photography by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

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Fig. 3 - Zoning regulations for the site were refl ective of suburban development and inconsistent with the neighborhood’s fabric. More than three times the lot area is required to build the proposed density. Permission for the project required fi ve public meeting, issuance of a certifi cate of

historic appropriateness, a rezoning, review and approval of a development plan, and numerous variances for setbacks and off-street parking, to begin. Illustration by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth.

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Fig. 5 - The porch of the new duplex at night. Thin, steel pipe columns support the hip roof and produce a lightness associated with contemporary structures that is sympathetic to both the historic and the industrial landscapes in which it is situated. Photography by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

FIg. 6 - The west facade of the single family house in context. .) The new structures use traditional materials in a contemporary mode, paying hom-age to but not being derivative of their predecessor. Photography by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

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visual and mobile privilege along the radiating lines of the prison’s plan. Patrolling the long corridors fl ooded with natural light, he is privy to a world hidden from the prisoner. His gaze is charged with control and power. (Fig 8) This scheme is undoubtedly descendant from Jeremy Bentham’s (1748-1832) Panopticon, which allowed a central guard to surveil every cell. While the effect at Eastern State is slightly different, the central importance of the gaze is undeniable.

Point | Counterpoint

Built in 1829, Eastern State Penitentiary is a National Historic Landmark. Operational from 1830 – 1971 the prison is now a museum, curated as a managed ruin.3 Our installation there, Point|Counterpoint, was part of its an-nual arts program and examines the building as an idealized typology for the purposeful ordering of space. The installation initiates a conversation with the prison’s architect, John Haviland (1792–1852), about Eastern State’s infl uential role in establishing an architectural type — the radial prison. (Fig 7) Based on Quaker concepts of penitence, Eastern State ‘‘linked solitude with moral and vocational instruction, exemplifi ed the Pennsylvania System of penology, and became a model for over 300 prisons worldwide.’’4

Haviland’s scheme can be read as an attempt to control vision, and through this manipula-tion, alternately empower or isolate the occu-pants. In the cell, the prisoner’s view is limited in every direction — held in by the opaque walls. The only visual outlet afforded to each prisoner is an oculus that directs one’s view toward God, if it is free at all. Conversely, the guard’s view is extended and enhanced throughout the facility. The guard exercises his

Fig. 7 - Left: Aerial photo of Eastern State Penitentiary (USGS) overlaid with plan of prison. Right: Plan of Eastern State Penitentiary, 1994. Dark grey indicates original cell blocks; light grey indicates cell blocks added subsequently. (©Marianna Thomas Architects) from Eastern State

Penitentiary: Crucible of Good Intentions.

Fig. 8 - Historic photograph of central rotunda, Eastern State Peni-tentiary. Michael J. Cassidy’s book Warden Cassidy on Prisons and Convicts (1897) Patterson and White: Philadelphia, page/plate not

numbered but between pp. 38-39.

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Fig. 10 - View Captured – an observer looking down the corridor and “through” the portal is confronted with something completely unexpected – fi rst a cell door and then, beyond, the solid back of the cell itself. This imposition visually terminates the axis of the corridor. Color photograph by

Barry Halkin Photography, Others by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

Figure 9 –Turning the Tables –Mirrors placed at 45 degrees to the primary axis of the corridor are concealed within the frameworks of two X-shaped portals. This arrangement diverts the view of anyone looking down the length of the cell block (green), while also creating a visual link between the two cells located diagonally across from each other (red ). Thus, the view of the guard is captured and contained while the prisoner’s view is

extended and linked. Color photograph by Barry Halkin Photography, others by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth.

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Fig. 11 - View Extended – from within the cells, the mirrors visually double the width of the corridor. Monochromatic screens slanted against the back walls of the cells receive raked sunlight from the occuli. The glowing, seemingly edgeless fi elds de-materialize the back walls of the cells and extend

views beyond the prison confi nes. Cells are visually linked, providing prisoners previously forbidden contact and ending their “lateral invisibility…[the] guarantee of order.” (Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of a Prison) Color photograph by Barry Halkin Photography, others by authors.

Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

Fig. - 12 - View Escaping- From certain cells, prisoners are granted a view of the previously unknown light-fi lled corridor in front of them. Depending on which cell it is seen from, this corridor leads to one of the two forbidden and highly symbolic places – either outside the prison or the central rotunda. These

escaping views imply two possibilities subversive to Haviland’s scheme. The fi rst is the opportunity to attain a path leaving the prison. The second gains access to the rotunda, and with it, the power of privileged vision. Color photograph by Barry Halkin Photography, others by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

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Although visible, the luminous environment’s phenomenal aspects, changes revealed over time, obscure their implications from the casual observer and thus become a part of the unseen site.

Astronomers, at least while practicing their craft, are nocturnal. They separate themselves from the society to observe light that is vis-ible only in the dark and even then may be extremely faint. This light is old, having been emitted or refl ected as much as billions of years previous. The astronomer is engaging in the optically tenuous practice of looking back in time. This idea structures what is typically the most mundane part of a program – the parking lot.

In our proposal a series of photovoltaic panels orders the parking lot. By day, panels convert light energy from the sun (a star) to stored electric power that facilitates the nighttime observation of light from other stars. Thus the project participates in the time-shifting nature of astronomy. Furthermore, the photovoltaic panels are situated to shield the viewing fi eld from the headlights of oncoming cars, protect-ing the precious darkness that is so easily shat-tered. (Fig 14)

The second aspect of the unseen site explored in the Kielder project is a literary association. While working on the project we were re-

Our project turns the tables. Through an in-tervention of screens, mirrors, and thresholds, the view of the guard is captured and con-tained within a cell; meanwhile, the prisoner’s view is extended and linked not only to that of other prisoners but ultimately to an implied ‘‘horizon’’ brought in through the oculus. This effectively dissolves the back walls of the cells and extends the prisoner’s view beyond the walls of the prison while simultaneously visually linking cells to each other providing prisoners with forbidden contact and ending their, “lateral invisibility . . . [the] guarantee of order.5

Constructed within a National Historic Land-mark that allows no permanent anchoring or alteration, the installation was of necessity light and ephemeral. Yet, this very materiality becomes part of the counterpoint; deploying mirrors and screens to dissolve steel and ma-sonry. While the project proposes an alternate reading, it does so within the relentless geom-etries and axes of the existing plan. Much like a rhetorical debate, the seeds for questioning the original thesis are found within its very logic. The installation serves as a counterpoint to the ideas embodied in the prison, becom-ing a device to reveal part of the unseen site. (Figs 9 – 12)

Kielder Observatory

A RIBA competition entry, the Kielder Obser-vatory serves specialist and amateur astrono-mers, scientifi c researchers and school groups under England’s darkest skies in Northumber-land. Despite Kielder Water & Forest Park’s picturesque setting, the site for the observa-tory was logged, yielding a forlorn landscape of stumps. (Fig 13) This tabula rasa provided little initial direction. We turned instead to two aspects of the unseen site – the nature of astronomy and our own associations evoked by this unusual landscape. The interplay and reversal of the luminous environment that sur-round the practice of astronomy form a sig-nifi cant part of the unseen site for this project.

Fig. 13 - The site, Black Fell, is a clear felled area within Kielder Forest & Water Park. Photograph courtesy of RIBA Competitions.

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Fig. 14 - The telescope housing/court is dynamic, comprised of fi xed and movable elements that open and close, hinge and roll, to support daytime and nighttime uses and visitors. Illustration by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

Fig. 15 - From left, (1) As with Calvino’s city of Thekla, constellations are used as a metaphorical blueprint. Constellations of tree stumps left by logging stand in as earthly substitutes for patterns of stars; (2) The primary telescope housing, individual viewing platforms and the warming room are all located on the existing slope; taking their clues from the location of the stumps; (3) The slope is interlaced with pathways that connect the

otherwise scattered locations. Particular stumps that describe the pathways are lit with red LED’s at low level to point the way. Illustration by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

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minded of the following passage from Calvi-no’s Invisible Cities:

If…someone puts his eye to a crack in a fence, he sees cranes pulling up other cranes, scaffoldings that embrace other scaffold-ings, beams that prop up other beams. “What meaning does your construction have?” he asks. “What is the aim of a city under con-struction unless it is a city? Where is the plan you are following, the blueprint?”

“We will show you as soon as the working day is over; we cannot interrupt our work now,” they answer.

Work stops at sunset. Darkness falls over the building site. The sky is fi lled with stars. “There is the blueprint,” they say.6

This passage prompted us to reconsider the stump-dotted landscape. If the organic pattern of the stumps was understood as an earthly proxy for the random pattern of stars in the night sky then they might present a blueprint for ordering the site as Calvino suggests. Con-sequently pathways were placed to engage the stumps and their tops painted white to refl ect carefully shaded low-level red light for way-fi nding. Likewise, the circular concrete view-ing platforms for amateur astronomers were inscribed within various groupings of three stumps yielding a range of sizes and locations. The literary association linked the ground to

the night sky and revealed overlooked possi-bility in a physical site. (Figs 15 - 16)

Conclusion

Michael Pollan suggests that all design can be understood as a negotiation between “there” and “here”; that is, between abstract cultural notions of the wider world and the concrete reality of a place.7 We agree with this formula-tion as far as it goes. However, we would add that this exploration of how the non-physical interacts with the physical gives rise to a new understanding of site; one where ideas are attached to place with each responding to and modifying the other. It is in this augmented landscape of the unseen site that we strive to operate.

NOTES

1 Annie Dillard, An American Childhood (New York: Harper & Row, 1987), 3.

2 Carol Burns, “On Site: Architectural Preoccupations” in, Drawing/Building/

Text: Essays in Architectural Theory, Andrea Kahn, ed., (New York: Princeton

Architectural Press, 1991), 154-164.

3 James Timberlake and Stephen Kieran, Manual: the Architecture of Kieran

Timberlake (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 2002), 82.

4 Pennsylvania state historical marker outside the entrance to Eastern State

Penitentiary.

5 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison (New York:

Random House, 1975), p. 200.

6 Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978),

127.

7 Michael Pollan, A Place of My Own: the Education of an Amateur Builder

(New York: Random House, 1997), 104-107.

Ted Shelton, AIA and Tricia Stuth, AIA are assistant professors at the University of Tennessee and partners in the fi rm curb. He is a former Fulbright Fellow. She is a recipient of the 2010 AIA Young Architects Award.

Fig. 16 - A star-gazer’s viewing platform hovers between constellations of stumps and stars. Illustration by Ted Shelton and Tricia Stuth

by Mark Smout and Laura Allen

LANZAROTE, A CHANGING CLIMATE, THE ‘ENVIROGRAMMIC’ RESPONSE

Ground Cloud. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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human impact within the natural world.

Our architectural design research work explores a design-based approach to architecture, landscape and climate change via political, technological and artistic disciplines. Our work proposes that the built environment can develop a reading of and synergy with its changing surroundings, informed by understanding the complex interaction of living and artifi cial systems. Our proposal for a technological topography for the Lanzarote lava fi elds and ash pits is conceived as drawings laid over and into photographic surveys of the geographical curiosities that dominate the island landscape.

Montañas del Fuego coach tour takes a predetermined route around the most scenic geological features of the Timanfaya Na-tional park. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

W J T Mitchell’s Landscape and Power (Chicago University Press, 2002) examines landscape as an instrument of cultural force. In the opening page, the author makes contrasting readings about the ambiguity and status of landscape, stating, “Landscape is a natural scene mediated by culture. It is both a represented and presented space, both a signifi er and a signifi ed, both a frame and what a frame contains, both a real place and its simulacrum, both a package and the commodity inside the package.” These polarities go a long way to defi ning the complexity of our relationship with landscape. However, unfolding global perils of climate change in recent years have increasingly precipitated knowledge of the intricacies of

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Current Accumulator. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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Lanzarote Lava Fields

Lanzarote has fi rmly established the built environment as an active component in the rewriting of our experience of landscape. Through the island’s careful governance of its unique and dramatic landscape it has acted as a model for managing development in a sustainable manner and shown how landscape can be critical in providing a summarized or abbreviated vision of nature’s complexity and beauty.

Lanzarote is the only whole island to be designated a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve recognized under UNESCO’s Man and the Biosphere Programme, which innovates and demonstrates approaches to conservation and sustainable development. The island is still under national sovereign jurisdiction yet it shares its experience and ideas regionally, nationally and internationally, within the World Network of Biospheres. Lanzarote’s designation is due to its unique combinations of volcanic, geothermal, and extraordinary agrarian landscapes, (fi g. 1), its bio-diversity, genetic resources and endemic species of fl ora and fauna, as well as its moratorium on touristic development.

The island’s inclusion in the UNESCO programme can in part also be attributed to prescient attitudes toward land use. In 1991 the local council adopted a radical policy for protection of its most precious natural resources in the form of the Island Zonation Plan. Conceived under the infl uence of artist César Manrique, the plan curbs excessive touristic development while utilizing Lanzarote’s extraordinary physical geography to attract tourism and hone visitors’ appreciation of their surroundings.

Curious traditional land use and farming practices, in addition to the unique geology, are the focus of touristic activities. The Timanfaya National Park (fi g. 2) was established in 1974 and covers the extensive

and inhospitable lava fi elds that were created over 6 days of volcanic activity in the 1730’s. This fi eld of craters and craggy rope lava is protected from human alteration and therefore acts as a living laboratory for the study of slowly emerging fl ora and fauna. To protect this fragile environment, the coach tour’s designated route restricts visitors’ experience of the landscape to the purely scenic. The visitor experience is choreographed into vistas that enable controlled, distant views of the elemental force and biodiversity of nature.

In this design project, three separate structures, the Current Accumulator, the River Reversed and the Ground Cloud use and adapt emerging and dormant environmental technologies and vernacular processes to re-establish the surrounding environment as the architecture’s energy source. They also demonstrate the hydrologic cycle — the model of the movement of water above, on, and below the surface of the earth. Global climate change scenarios for the scarcity of water, drought and desertifi cation, and conversely river fl ooding and sea level rise, refl ect the complexity of hydrological processes and their role in environmental activity.

In 2008, the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) reported climate predictions for the regions of Macaronesia (The Azores, Madeira and the Canary Islands), of a 0.35m sea level rise, a 2.1°C air temperature rise, a decrease in the power of the north-westerly trade winds and an increase in the prevailing eastern winds from the Sahara . Lanzarote’s vulnerability to climate change is compounded by both the island’ s high ratio of coastline to land area, which means that sea level change will affect a large proportion of land mass, and by its relatively small size resulting in a lack of both habitat diversity and availability which reduces the chance of plant and animal species being able to successfully relocate into suitable local environments.

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Le Geria vineyards, thousands of semi-circular hollows harbour individual vines planted in black volcanic gravel (picon) to preserve moisture from dew. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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River Reversed. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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Current Accumulator

The Current Accumulator (fi g. 3), a landscape of solar ponds, mass walls, walkways and connecting structures, acts as a representation of the power of environmental forces and the complex pattern of dynamic ocean currents that fl ow around the globe. This global movement, infl uenced by many factors such as wind, heat, salinity, gravitational pull and the topography of the ocean fl oor affects climate, biodiversity and the environment even far inland. The Canary Current, a cool and nutrient-rich branch of the North Atlantic Current that is responsible for the enhancement of West African fi sheries, tempers the Lanzarote climate by bringing cooler seawater than would otherwise be expected at this latitude.

Solar ponds, reservoirs of saline water, exploit naturally occurring extreme gradients of salinity and water temperature to generate power using specialised turbines. This energy source is typically used at small scale in developing countries to power local industry. In the Current Accumulator power is gradually built up as a store of potential energy in large tensioned armatures and a network of cables that suspend the ponds from the surrounding rock landscape. As energy is released the ponds are elevated and slowly shift, rise, fall and rotate, mimicking the fl ows and cycles of ocean water.

River Reversed

Lanzarote is a dry island receiving an average of 200mm rainfall annually. Through history the islanders have adapted the landscape and built environment to harness water for agriculture and drinking; fog and dew catchers, cistern fi elds, check dams, storage tanks, banked and cross-terraced fi elds can still be seen throughout the island. More recently, to meet increasing fresh water demands from tourism and urbanism, the

islanders have constructed energy ineffi cient and costly desalination plants that produce 97% of the islands water although they are only able to build up a water reserve of 5.6 days.

River Reversed (fi g. 4) responds to the island’s precarious reliance on industrialised processes and its own hostile environment. Lanzarote has no surface and groundwater in the form of rivers or springs and what water there is remains as droplets of dew or fog. Our projects aims to materialise fl owing water from apparently ephemeral material. The project also alludes to the fl ow of water through the hydrological cycle via the transient process of evaporation as well as to the geomorphological phenomena of ‘endorheic’ or salt lakes where topography prevents drainage out to sea, and where instead the basin loses water by evaporation.

The scheme adapts Henri Coanda’s “Apparatus for Purifi cation of Undrinkable Water” which he devised and patented in the 1950’s but which was never adopted for use. The system exploits the technology of solar chimneys where an updraft tower, more commonly used to provide ventilation, condenses water extracted by evaporation from a glass covered saline pond. The tower has a refl ective internal surface to multiply available light whilst absorbing radiation on its external surface to minimise heat loss through its mass. The chimney therefore superheats the moisture-laden air to vastly increase the volume of air passing through the system and therefore the quantity of condensate collected.

The emerging fl ow of fresh water is directed into a culvert cut from the surrounding rock landscape that transforms it into an artifi cial river fl owing in a compressed meander through the site. The river is exposed to the sun’s heat, while it also seeps into the concrete structure. What began as a torrent becomes a stream, then a trickle, fractioning out minerals as it travels. As the

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the ‘sea of clouds’ that can provide orographic precipitation. However, around the northern hills airborne moisture can be harnessed with fog nets suspended high against prevailing winds. This technique is currently being tested as a means of reforesting Lanzarote’s barren slopes and produces between 2 and 5 litres of water a day that can be fed to saplings via a pumped drip irrigation network .

Our Ground Cloud proposal for an array of framed fog nets is deployed up the hillside facing towards the sea mists. The frames are constructed from a laminate of two materials with different rates of thermal expansion and which are held in a curved position whilst

Food Pyramid, by Didier Hess. Photo by Scott Mayoral.

course reaches the basin, the river runs dry, representing in reverse the hydrological cycle from rainfall to ocean.

Ground Cloud

Lanzarote’s climate is a microcosm of contrasting weather systems. It is defi ned as subtropical in respect to temperature and dry and sub desert in regard to rainfall. Cold ocean currents and trade winds moderate temperature, but Sirocco winds from Africa regularly cause temperatures to peak and smother the island in a haze of Saharan sand. Unlike other Canary Islands, the topography is too low for Lanzarote to take full advantage of

Ballistic Devices. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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they accumulate moisture in the early hours of the morning. At sunrise, when there is a signifi cant change in air temperature, the differing thermal properties within the frames cause them to tension and in doing so apply pressure to a sprung release mechanism. When the pressure becomes too great the spring release gives way and the frames shake and jerk into new confi gurations. A cloud of droplets is instantly airborne and an ‘atmosphere’ of vapor momentarily created. Microclimates and even verdant environments are created where the droplets fall. During the night, as air temperatures decrease, the frames relax back and reset for the following day.

Each of these three designs for Lanzarote, the Current Accumulator, the River Reversed and the Ground Cloud, attempts to explore the tangibility of technology and physical laws and phenomena that are inherent in

the local and global environment. We have chosen Lanzarote as a test sight for these conceptual pieces as its extraordinary physical and cultural contexts allow us to contrast and magnify political and geographical environments to better illustrate the synthesis between the natural and the synthetic worlds. They are designed to challenge assumptions of architecture as an inert body and instead propose a positive and responsive interaction between the built and natural environments.

We intend our demonstrations to provide a heuristic context for the understanding and advancement of architecture as an ecological system that can function through apposite principles of sustainability for the future of urban and rural landscapes.

Envirographic Prototype. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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Laura Allen and Mark Smout are Senior Lecturers at the Bartlett School of Architecture, UCL where

they run Postgraduate Unit 11, Direct the Postgraduate Thesis and Undergraduate Architecture Programme. Their Architectural Design Research practice concentrates on conceptual and theoretical design projects that operate with the ephemeral and enduring forces of change in our environment. Vernacular techniques and passive systems are reinvented to enhance the latent qualities of the site and the architecture that inhabits it. New strategies for inhabiting territories of change, such as disintegrating coastlines, provide a model for an unfamiliar architecture that adapts with the restless landscape. Meticulous drawings and intricate models that propose synergies between architecture and landscape, representation and instrumentation, technology and vulgar knowledge typify their work.They recently published the best selling book Augmented Landscapes, PA28, in the prestigious Pamphlet Architecture Series. Their contribution to architectural design and technology teaching is acknowledged by numerous national and international accolades for innovation and excellence in education awarded to themselves and their graduating students, including 4 RIBA President Medals winners and the Royal Academy of the Arts Architecture prize in 2005. Smout Allen lecture and run teaching workshops internationally and their new work, “Envirographic Architecture” will be showcased at the Nevada Museum of Art, Reno in 2011.

Reterating Village. Image courtesy of SmoutAllen.

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In the fi rst half of the 20th century, “America at Large” was born. The population spiked, the economy boomed and a new domestic urban fabric was constructed: the strip mall. It was designed and planned as a driver-friendly-parking-lot urban form, taking advantage of the blossoming car culture and consumerism. It came for convenience and ease and now exists anywhere and everywhere. The fi rst strip mall opened in Kansas City, Missouri in 1922. Regardless of its origins, it has been reproduced and reworked to exhaustion. Through nearly endless iterations across the American landscape and in the collective imagination, the strip-mall and its attached parking lot have exhausted

by Claire SheridanNETWORK TRACE-UNTRACE

The Strip Mall and the Light Bulb offer a cultural lens to critically analyze and display positions of culture and society. Together they provide scenarios that trigger recognition and embodiment enhancing traces of times past and present. Image by Claire Sheridan.

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their presence in the city; and this mass ubiquity has led to its now near invisibility.

The contemporary world is electrifi ed and digital, fast and sleek. It is a world both tangible and intangible. The light bulb, invented in 1879 by Thomas Edison, profoundly changed how human existence interacted with our surrounding environments. The act of illumination changed our everyday conveniences and connected our lives to an intangible network of electricity forever. The light bulb’s role in this work is its metaphoric ability to shed light on issues of invisibility and its object-hood. While existing as a

designed object in a designed world, light bulbs are also disregarded and forgotten after use.

Network trace–untrace utilizes the logic of the archive and the strip-mall to investigate spacial traces and ask: “Are we moving from a visible past to an invisible one?”

The work began with the journal article, Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire, by Pierre Nora. His writing challenges the factual truth of history and memory, and considers how we treat the experience, or traces, of history. He states:

Image by Claire Sheridan.

Previous Page: The ambiguity of these atmospheric and spatial conditions separate the strip-mall from its once ideal urban development and aims to project alternative histories. They also seek to consider the tension between aesthetic value and ethical value and invite consideration of the

strip-mall and light bulb as archive. Disinterested satisfaction through time and economic downturns allows us to disregard these banal conditions. This work intends reconsider these monotonous conditions as places and objects. A recovery of rich ambiguity? A critique of mass banality? An

archive of America at large? Image by Claire Sheridan.

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This project takes issue with history and place and how we individually, nationally, and globally record and process it. The work is challenged by current trends of corporation, storage, globalization and information science. It aims to contend with the generalizations of American spaces and bring cultural discussions of banality and value to the surface. It considers the digital networks we rely on, and questions the objects these networks tie us to. This work intends to expose issues of embodiment, to re-frame the ubiquitous and banal, and make conditions of quantity and quality visible.

Gillian Rose writes in her essay Building a Restless World: “Our sense of place has gone global. So interventions have to happen not in the local, or at least not only in that, but in a world stretched out and strung around, a world patched together by a wide range of differentiated, variable, and erratic processes in which the human and the non-human are hard to distinguish.”2

Network trace–untrace: challenges

“No society has ever produced archives as deliberately as our own, not only by volume, not only by new technical means of reproduction and preservation, but also by its superstitious esteem, by its veneration of the trace. Even as traditional memory disappears, we feel obliged to assiduously to collect remains, testimonies, documents, images, speeches, any visible signs of what has been, as if this burgeoning dossier were to be called upon to furnish some proof to who knows what tribunal of history. The sacred is invested in the trace that is at the same time its negation. It becomes impossible to predict what should be remembered–whence the disinclination to destroy anything that leads to the corresponding reinforcement of all the institutions of memory. A strange role reversal has occurred between the professional, once reproached for an obsession with conservation, and the amateur producer of archives. Today, private enterprise and public administration keep everything, while professional archivists have learned that the essence of their trade is the art of controlled destruction.”1

Traces left behind, infrastructure exposed, repetitive spatial tendencies, tangible and intangible spaces are created that are now revealed through

networks and displays of light.

Image by Claire Sheridan.

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The transformation of the strip-mall into strip-malls on top of strip-malls is both its death as a strip-mall and its transformation into documented

archive. Images by Claire Sheridan.

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the physical experiences of our spatial environments to intervene, linger, and engage us at multiple scales. The context of these inquiries is the strip mall and the archive. Archives allow exploration (in a physical realm) into the ideas of collection, storage and our own manifestation of objects. They also can address the ever-increasing amount of data and objects that fl oat in and out of our existence everyday. While the strip-mall provides a critical eye to look at American spaces, their quality and more importantly their mass quantity. Currently, strip-mall vacancies are reaching the highest they have ever been with more and more strip-malls closing their doors and boarding up their windows than ever before. The strip-mall and their parking lots are dieing and leaving behind the question: what are we to do with them?

Using the space of strip-malls to position ideals of ‘America at large’ allowed me to take issue with how we currently construct place, what we value, dispose of, and what we disregard. The strip-mall as archive is

structured to provide moments of pause and contention, as well as interest and debate; these investigations are both value laden and archival. For me, the strip-mall in its sheer abundance and repetitive existence confronts ideas of place, quality, as well as duration and lifespan. As our built conditions change, adjust and transform, the role of “privatization” is changing as well as the role of “collective” sharing in our spatial and digital frameworks. This work aims to challenges different levels of intimacy and nostalgia, while critically commenting on our current spatial practices and the mass of their existence.

Objects (light bulbs) have the ability to reveal history based on their lifespan, materiality, and inherent qualities. Objects, for me, circulate questions of value, importance, duration and purpose. While some are lost and then found or passed down from generation to generation, others connect us to intangible networks, while still some are purchased, replicated, and disposed of. I intend to raise discussion about what holds

Light as object and bulb remembered, and light as atmospheric conditioning (designed). This translation hopes to preserve, reveal, and curate essential visual and spatial ambiguities and redundancies. Image by Claire Sheridan.

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economic value versus those that rely on personal value. The cultural conditions of this will be explored through the utilization of the light bulb as an object of importance, as it applies to the strip-mall site, and fi nally how it has been challenged and altered by the digital age of today.

The light bulb is treated both as object and as network, to trigger thoughts about physical objects and the invisibility of the networks

that structure our daily lives. The scale of an object and the network that is inherent to it is just as important to my work as the scale of the strip-mall and its relationship to our urban environment. Spatial importance and experience is driven from that which it contains, where it sits, and at what magnitude it interacts with our everyday experiences. Spaces have the ability to evoke feeling and emotion. My work and interests here, draw from historical contexts and practices, yet,

Images by Claire Sheridan.

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Twelve typical typologies of the often disregarded strip-mall have been drawn in plan, overlapped and merged to reveal concepts of America, our spatial conditions, stereotypes, demographics, and material pallets to question, provoke and display issues concerning the quantity and quality of

the domestic spaces that surround our houses, neighborhoods, cities and suburbs. Images by Claire Sheridan.

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The banal. The alike. The Same. The Copy. The strip-mall as archive of mass urbanity. Images by Claire Sheridan.

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Image by Claire Sheridan.

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Claire Sheridan, Assoc. AIA is a recent graduate from the University of Michigan: Taubman College of Architecture and Planning, where she received her Masters

of Architecture and a Masters of Science in Architecture: Design Research, with distinction. She assisted in teaching Design Fundamentals 1 and Architectural Theory. Claire was a Booth Fellowship Recipient in 2009 which took her to Rwanda to assist in the building and documentation of a hospital in the northern region of the country. Claire aspires to establish herself as an educator and architect that challenges design to be better as well as smarter. She grew up in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where the land of enchantment continues to ask her questions about landscape, design, site and place.

focus on the global “fl atting” of place and culture everyone is experiencing. Vacancy, and nondescript spaces highlight the object and network into archival conditions. This re-presentation of the (un)familiar invites us to look again, to consider the built world and the standards that it increasingly is built up with.The intention here is to question and explore what can be gained from these moments of mass urban banality as well as to consider what is being lost: are we moving from a visible past to an invisible one?

NOTES

1. Nora, Pierre. “Les Lieux de Memoire.” Representations, Volume 0, Issue 26

(Spring 1989): 7-24.

2. Rose, Gillian. “Building a Restless World.” Augmented Landscapes / Smout

Allen. Pamphlet Architecture, no. 28, ed. Mark Smout and Laura Allen (New

York : Princeton Architectural Press, c2007): 22.

What can the light bulb do to the light bulb? What can the Strip-Mall do to the Strip-Mall? What can the light bulb do to the Strip-Mall? The light bulb and our reliance on what it provides attaches us to an intangible network. This object and network is sited together with the strip-mall to re-

present the strip-mall to frame and display aspects of our cultural disposition to render it more visible. This re-presentation invites us to look again, in effort to make the strip-mall and light bulb conspicuous. Through new conditioning by representing elements in both familiar and unfamiliar

ways. Image by Claire Sheridan.

FORWARD 111SPRING

LANDSCAPE