Glorified Space

I have reached a point where the exterior massing of my building is mostly set. The structural grid is [mostly] settled upon, and I have an idea of enclosure. But building the larger model has allowed me to think about the interior space of my project in an entirely new way:
I have a shell. I am rewriting the interior.

It is a strange paradoxical situation, where the exterior was first formed by a now irrelevant configuration of interior programming. When finding form, we are often faced with the chicken and egg problem – do you let the interior determine the form or do you create an interesting massing first? There are benefits and criticisms to either; I seem to have stumbled on a way to do both.

I now have a 6 story contemplation space. It is narrow, long, and extremely tall. It has light on all four sides. It has the potential for procession and ceremonial entry. I have the space to make sweeping staircases, tiered balconies, hanging masses. In other words, I have a completely flexible volume of divine space.
So now I have to ask : what is divine space anyways?


Church of Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg


Koln Cathedral


Giant Buddha at Wat Tham Sua temple, Thailand

The obvious for awe-inspiring space ring throughout any religion: vast, opulent, intricate, light filled. While the majority of my mental images are Christian spaces, the same can be true of temples, shrines, and ceremonial spaces.
It is not the subject that inspires awe, but the opulence. The representation of divinity has more to do with money than god. It is not what the cathedral represents that makes our heart leap- it is the space itself. Were the mosaics of the Spilled Blood to be of any other subject, their effect would not be lessened. Were the giant golden Buddha just a statue, the overwhelming power of 30 feet of gold towering above you would be the same.
It is a cruel irony that the “divine” is most easily felt through an exploitation of human weakness: the lust, greed, and envy of great wealth, our extreme bias for outer beauty. We retreat to these places because they make us feel small; we are reminded of a higher power; or, perhaps, for the freedom from the ‘real world’ into one of pure beauty and personal detachment.
Churches are the Heterotopias for the soul.
From here, the Vatican is equal to Las Vegas: a city scale Heterotopia, disconnected from reality, designed to remove entirely your sense of self responsibility. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What is said in confession, stays in confession.


Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Berlin


Jewish Museum, Berlin

So as a creator of sacred space, which way to I turn? is opulence and grandeur justified by its proven power to inspire? Or, more true to the humble characteristics of most deities, do I design a modest environment?
Both paths can be successful.
In Berlin, there are two famous examples of each: Eisenman’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews and Leibskind’s jewish museum. Eisenman’s space is stark: architecturally simple and unassuming. His space is brilliant and powerful, but only because it forces a procession through horrifying information that overwhelms; the strength is in subject, not the space itself. Visiting his monument ruined my weekend.
Liebskind’s museum, on the other hand, is a beautiful and iconic collection of symbolic form. The information presented is typical museum fodder, but the architecture itself is the draw: a series of voids transformed into physically powerful experiences. Visiting his museum made me ill.

I have a hole: is it filled with procession or is it filled with form?

Model Shots

Review went pretty well. I stayed up late working on a very large foamcore model (which is still not done, but has served its purpose), and I found a few of the photos I took of the models I've done so far.


Spatial Icon (the sculpture from the first two weeks)


Spatial Icon again


After the acrylic layer box model, we made our first "real" models to start thinking about facade. This is my first iteration.


First iteration again... the main corner (entry)


The Gold Standard - my very incomplete iteration 2... working through new massing definitions. Also called "Church of 1000 minarets"

As always... more on the picasa album here.

scale and process

I'm beginning to realize that I will likely go the entire semester kicking and screaming and moaning about the process imposed by my professors, and then want to immediately take it back.
Evidence #1: the acrylic box model. I was horrified when we all had to create the exact same "shelf" model, with a given size and structural grid. I thought our projects would all turn out the same - uninventive, without personality, boring. I thought I would hate the process.
But I was wrong. The shelf model is an incredible way to initially start out organizing space - you work through section, elevation, and plan all at the same time. Instead of getting stuck in the 2d, you are immediately thrown into the 3d. There is no way to avoid space.

Evidence #2: the 16th facade study model. I thought it was too early and that drawings should be made.
I was wrong. Again... a physical model says so much more than a drawing or digital model. The space is so much more tangible.

Evidence #3: the 1/8th model. I am still not done (currently working). I thought it was too early to go so large.
But my god, was I wrong! Working at different scales simultaneously tells you so much more about the space. I have never built such a large model before. It is 20"x20"x12" and you can literally get inside the space. And I'm realizing there is so much that needs changing.


So here's what I've learned so far:
-Avoid getting stuck in the 2d by jumping directly into the 3d. But let it be meaningful (based on plan) and changeable (so you don't fall in love with one iteration)
-Work at different scales... big scales, small scales, and drawing... all at the same time. Significant issues can be caught and adjusted early on in the process, before it's too late.
-Spend personal time thinking about experience and emotion, but don't get caught up in it. You can find it in the things you've done, but get something out there first.
-The lasercutter is your friend.


Pictures soon.

Screens, plane

I made a new model last night/this morning working out a few of the major issues in my building. I spent two hours cutting shiny gold paper into 3 densities of screen. I decided that if my GPA has to go down for these professors, I'll do it in style. Haha.

But surprisingly, my desk review went incredibly well- they like my building and didn't mind the gold at all.

So now I'm thinking about the potential of screens for defining complex space. Screens are a pretty incredible facade option... having the potential for both translucency and opactiy; rich materiality; ornamental form or pattern.
By obstructing half of what happens behind them, screens reduce the three dimensional to a complex collage of 2d. Sort of like polarizing lenses for a building's interior activity.

Anyways... a few cool screens for my own inspiration:






I need to keep my imagination open.
Islamic; slats; metal; brick; translucent; green; orthogonal; circular; shadow; folding; reflective; perforation.

School Update

Spatial complexity; spatial legibility; spatial coherence; spatial fluidity; spatial transparency; compositional balance; material clarity;


Writing about space, that intangible, ambiguous, amorphous air that fills crevices, flows around blocks, hangs heavy or dances freely through line, arch, mass... is hard.

This semester, despite my initial notions about program, has been (and will likely continue to be) about purity of space.
Although it's not what I expected, I can't really think of any more perfect ending to my studies at IIT. My studio is horribly time consuming, completely subjective, dependent on a keen eye, obsessive about the concept of materiality, and as vague as Visual Training.
It has reignited my respect and passion for composed space; the quietness and subtle balance of Modernist form.
I realize now that pursuing a narrative-based, research-based, environmental-based, or digital design-based studio would have been utterly inappropriate for my final semester. It means too much for me to come to terms with my education, my beliefs, and my interests after 5 years of exploration and uncertainty.

But because writing about space is hard, I'm going to try to do it every day. New Goal: reflect daily.

This weekend was Camras weekend: tons of prospective students flooded the campus to sit for interviews and tour the school. As Crown Scholar, it is my duty to go around with the prospective architecture scholars for an evening of Chicago architecture and dinner. I enjoy it every year, but this Thursday was especially good for me. When talking with people about their burgeoning interest in architecture or why they might want to attend IIT, I am inevitably reminded of my Crown interview weekend and how I felt the first time I walked into Crown Hall. All I remember thinking was "I could be so happy working here." The openness, lofty ceilings, yet strange intimacy in each section; the views, the sense of shelter contrasting the sense of freedom. It felt like a space of big ideas and collaboration.
And it's only now, after reading Colin Rowe's Transparency: Literal and Phenomenal (PDF), that I understand, architecturally, where that feeling comes from. The intimacy comes from the division of space through materiality shifts; the openness from the open ceiling and upper clear windows; the shelter from the hanging ceiling and semi-opaque walls; the space for ideas and dreaming by the height and connection between studios.
At least in Modernism, though I think in almost any great space, it is the clarity of phenomenal transparency that makes it. Even the architects who we normally consider anti-Modernist, avant-garde, or otherwise non-Miesian employ this tactic... consciously or not.
It is, in the most visually obvious sense, the continuation of datum lines.


I also feel the need to clarify. I do not mean to suggest that Modernist composition is the only good architecture. I am still fascinated by ornamentation, concept, augmented reality, and self-sustaining environments. However, clarity of composition has been somewhat abandoned in recent practice in favor of these others; pure space exists without influence of programmatic juxtaposition, environmental context, or fancy additions. It is both Utopian, achievable, and utterly real.