Monday, February 7, 2011

One Fish, Two Fish, Flying Buttress, Blue Fish (Part I)

Om nom nom
When most people think of fish, they think of dinner. When architects think of fish they think of one of nature's most beautiful gifts to mankind. The slippery little animals have given them more ideas about form, structure, and movement than any other animal on earth. True, few architects intend for their work to actually look like a fish (unless you're Frank Gehry, but we'll get to him), but many of its basic tendencies can be found in almost all modern architecture.

Let's take a better look at our new best friends. The influence of fish on architecture can be broken into two categories: form and structure. Like any good building, a fish's outside provides beauty, protection, and movement, and it's internal structure gives it strength and efficiency.

Hey, sexy
This is a cod. While it makes for a delicious taco, we will concern ourselves more with it's outside. The cod is a good example of a basic fish shape. Like most fish, it's longer than it is tall and taller than it is wide, has a generally symmetrical shape that curves inward at first, then gradually back out to form the tail. You'll find a similar shape everywhere from leaves to airfoils. Its gentle but defined curves are pleasing to look and allows it to slip easily through the water. These basic principles are applied directly to some of the most beautiful and ingenious modern buildings. 

The obvious place to start is Gehry's fish. The fact that one of the most influential architects of the late 20th and early 21st century lends some weight to the importance of the fish. Its shape can be seen in much of his work, from furniture to concert halls. This, however, is his most famous fish. It sits atop a building in Barcelona and is perhaps the most iconic example of the shape's simple but powerful beauty. Gehry also uses the idea of scales in many of his buildings, another point for the fish.

But Gehry is not the first to obsess over our underwater muse, and he will certainly not be the last. The list of all the world's fish buildings could go on for days, so we'll focus on a few exceptional examples. While they are a lot less literal than the one above, their fishiness should be apparent if you keep the basic shape in mind.
This one happens to be a fish market


Zaha Hadid's Plan for the Performing Arts Center in Abu Dhabi. Am I the only one who thinks beached whale?


Here is one from my sketchbook.
You must surely be craving this by now

Stay tuned for part II, in which we'll talk about the inside of the fish and how it has shaped the inside of buildings

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Urban Farming (AKA Dog Vomit Part II)

Daniel Libeskind's new tower
Earlier I talked about a little green ooze called Slime Mold. While they are not nature's prettiest creature, they do give us some good ideas on how our own cities could function. One of their most amazing characteristics is that certain species have discovered farming. Certain cells become "workers", who tend to bacterial orchards right on top of the mold. In this way, the mold is entirely self sufficient and vastly more efficient than any human society.
The trick is, as is often the case, location. Unlike our cities, the farms are built right into the basic structure of the society. Whereas we have to use valuable resources to maintain and connect massive farms miles from urban areas, the mold keeps them millimeters away. But how would we do this in our modern civilization without completely redesigning the very cities themselves?
Well, let's use Manhattan as our test subject, as it is one of the most densely populated places on Earth. Try this: go to the planning office and tell them you want to build a farm. They will giggle profusely and have you carried out. No, with modern techniques, farming in Manhattan seems impossible. Even newly popular rooftop gardens could never sustain a population of that size. 
That's why we need to move. In the future, urban farming will be anything but horizontal, and we need great architecture to facilitate it.
One big idea is to build enormous, city block engulfing, farming superstructures. Like open-air skyscrapers, each floor could specialize in a different crop. Irrigation would be easy, relying on existing water infrastructure. Sunlight would be gathered by building the farms in a stair-step structure, like the picture on the right. Farms like these would be a simple and beautiful solution to food demand (and also air quality), but cost would get in the way. Even conventional skyscrapers are enormously expensive to build, especially in times like these.

Another solution is vertical gardening. Blasphemy! Plants can't grow sideways! Yes they can. A relatively inexpensive mesh can cover the sides of buildings which allow soil and irrigation systems to be suspended. Plants then use natural sunlight to give the building a nice green paint-job. The advantage here is that these vertical gardens can be used on existing buildings, eliminating the need for new construction. And as a plus, it's beautiful. Imagine walking through Manhattan surrounded by buildings like these and actually being able to breath. 
Soon you'll be able to reach out the window of your studio apartment and grab breakfast. If we ever want to make self-sustaining cities a reality, vertical is the way to go. 

Drifting


This is the Drift Deck, a project by Near Future Laboratory. It works by guiding its user seemingly randomly through the city. The Deck gives random instructions on how to better interact and appreciate urban environments. For example, you might be prompted to enter new and seemingly mundane places and better appreciate their beauty.
One card reads, "An Alley: Explore. Linger. Document what you find. If there's anything truly curious, photograph it and call it treasure." It's small actions like these that allow Drift Deck to transform the mundane into the extraordinary.
This is the Drift Deck, a project by Near Future Laboratory. It works by guiding its user seemingly randomly through the city. The Deck gives random instructions on how to better interact and appreciate urban environments. For example, you might be prompted to enter new and seemingly mundane places and better appreciate their beauty.
One card reads, "An Alley: Explore. Linger. Document what you find. If there's anything truly curious, photograph it and call it treasure." It's small actions like these that allow Drift Deck to transform the mundane into the extraordinary.

Dog Vomit Utopia

Slimehattan is attacked by Roachzilla






See that? That's a slime mold. This particular specimen, lovely though it is, is aptly named Dog Vomit. A slime mold is a collection of individual cells that function together (sound familiar? We'll get there...). Each cell is assigned a specific task; some help move the mold, some are farmers (what? be patient...) and a lucky few sacrifice themselves in the glorious name of sex.


But the amazing thing about these little cities is that many species are almost entirely self sufficient. They grow their own food, harvest their own sunlight, move by themselves, and look convincingly like something you wouldn't like on your shoe (but it will invariably get there if you live on the Olympic Peninsula) all by their little selves. They are socialist utopias on a microbiological scale.


This is just another example of the interconnectedness of architecture and nature. If our cities were as efficient and perfect as these molds, we would live in a far more peaceful world. Everyone is assigned a job, which they do with stunning efficiency. Everything is mobile, nothing is concrete. They are socialist utopias on a microbiological scale.

This blog was supposed to be about architecture!


And that's where architecture comes in (finally). Like beehives, ant hills, and corals, these molds provide a concrete example of how structure can be both derived from and enable function. Unlike in our societies, the food source is not seperated from the consumer; instead they are integrated into the structure of the "city" itself.


This brings me to the subject of urban farming, which I will discuss in excruciating detail tomorrow. Unless you are reading this in the future, in which case check the archives and enjoy your APPLE THAT WAS GROWN ON THE SIDE OF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING. Hold on to your pants, people.