My building form serves as the arbiter of nature to the concrete jungle. As such, the experience should be one that accurately conveys the feeling of being both beneath and inside the canopy of a natural Louisiana forest without appearing to be contrived or disingenuous.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Plans and Sections
My building form serves as the arbiter of nature to the concrete jungle. As such, the experience should be one that accurately conveys the feeling of being both beneath and inside the canopy of a natural Louisiana forest without appearing to be contrived or disingenuous.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Placelessness in Place
Activity surrounds. Hubbub. Busyness. Loneliness in the crowd. You are definitely somewhere, but where? You're here, but where is that? Do you fit amongst the crowd of buildings that seem to rush, tower, and judge all at once?
You are a parking garage: the illegitimate brother of the LaSalle Building. Encircled by meaning and activity and place, your existence is only partially justified. You crave meaning, place, activity, and deliberate attention.
You shall receive.
What Is and What Can Be
Our site is:
But with a little help it can be:
- barren
- placeless
- desolate
- vast
- isolated
- disorienting
- windy
- horizontal
- uniform
- open
- bright
But with a little help it can be:
- inviting
- open
- connected
- enlivened
- integrated
- inspiring
- engaging
- warm
- rooted
- flowing
- natural
A Sense of Place: CTK
In searching for a location that has a real sense of place, I wanted to avoid picking the obvious locations that make reference to history. The easiest way to endow a location with a sense of place is to somehow connect it with the historical use of the site or to orient it within a larger historical context. Finding a place that does not use history as a primary means of establishing itself as a “place” was difficult.
One particular type of location that I believe creates a strong sense of place without needing to use history is the basilican church. The Catholic church on campus, Christ the King, is a recently constructed axial church with a length shorter than it’s width. Though it is not a typical basilican plan, it does exhibit the same features such as an axial orientation toward the altar, a triumphal arch, repetitive columns, and flanking side aisles which create the three part interior (arcade, triforium, and clerestory.) These spatial features endow the church with a clear orientation toward the altar and a formal, regimented quality.
The entire church is oriented on a north-south axis, allowing maximum sunlight to enter the clerestory near dawn and dusk. On bright summer days, the entire sanctuary can be filled with a soft, golden light that gives it a cheerful and contemplative quality. This orientation connects the interior with the natural world beyond. Perhaps unintentional, but important to note is the character that the space takes when a storm is brewing outside. Not only does the interior space lose a great deal of natural light, but the materiality of the roof transfers a slightly muffled sound of falling rain that echoes throughout the sanctuary. The interior of the church has a completely different quality of place depending on what is occurring in the natural world.
Only once the church has created its own distinct interior qualities does it make reference to the older church structure that lies adjacent. One would not notice until exiting the church that the main aisle is lined up with a row of doors on the northern side of the old church. Though the new church could stand completely on its own as a church, this historical orientation lends it additional credibility and compositional strength.
One particular type of location that I believe creates a strong sense of place without needing to use history is the basilican church. The Catholic church on campus, Christ the King, is a recently constructed axial church with a length shorter than it’s width. Though it is not a typical basilican plan, it does exhibit the same features such as an axial orientation toward the altar, a triumphal arch, repetitive columns, and flanking side aisles which create the three part interior (arcade, triforium, and clerestory.) These spatial features endow the church with a clear orientation toward the altar and a formal, regimented quality.
The entire church is oriented on a north-south axis, allowing maximum sunlight to enter the clerestory near dawn and dusk. On bright summer days, the entire sanctuary can be filled with a soft, golden light that gives it a cheerful and contemplative quality. This orientation connects the interior with the natural world beyond. Perhaps unintentional, but important to note is the character that the space takes when a storm is brewing outside. Not only does the interior space lose a great deal of natural light, but the materiality of the roof transfers a slightly muffled sound of falling rain that echoes throughout the sanctuary. The interior of the church has a completely different quality of place depending on what is occurring in the natural world.
Only once the church has created its own distinct interior qualities does it make reference to the older church structure that lies adjacent. One would not notice until exiting the church that the main aisle is lined up with a row of doors on the northern side of the old church. Though the new church could stand completely on its own as a church, this historical orientation lends it additional credibility and compositional strength.
Initial Site Impressions
My initial impression of the site is that it is completely void of any sense of place. The rooftop is not anchored to any of the surrounding urban fabric by orientation, shape, or similarity. This is not to say that there are no opportunities to have our design respond to the urban environment in a meaningful way and create a sense of place.
On one side of the site, there are a number of buildings in the skyline that could provide a meaningful orientation to our development including the state capitol and the hancock bank building. On the west side of the site, the river view provides an opportunity for a compelling natural orientation.
Incidentally, this parking structure plays a large role in Baton Rouge’s Downtown Master Plan. Planners have decided that they want an entertainment venue to anchor the north end of Third St. adjacent to the Hancock building across the street. Our parking structure will no doubt play a large role in accommodating the additional traffic generated by this entertainment venue.
Some challenges to the site are integrating our structure with the current parking structure, keeping our impact on the current use of the structure (for parking) minimal, providing adequate shading from the intense Baton Rouge heat, and creating a comfortable and natural outdoor environment.
My initial thoughts on developing this project are to orient it to Third St. to align it with the developing entertainment and arts district. This orientation also allows us to use landmarks in the urban skyline to inform our design. This north-south orientation will minimize direct exposure to sunlight from the south and help control solar heat gain. I’d like my design to be read as separate from the parking garage, but integrated with activities at ground level. The first objective can be achieved by simply stepping my structure back and not aligning it with any of the garage’s main volume. Connecting my building to activities on the ground may be a more challenging task that requires some experimentation.
Our Daily Space, Light, and Order
The title of this blog is part of a quote of Corbusier's about New York. His ideas for urban design often ended in disaster (especially American "Urban Renewal" of the 60s). His love for the automobile is probably the reason we are designing on top of a parking garage in the first place. I think this quote particularly demonstrates his mixed feelings on the urban condition:
“A hundred times have I thought New York is a catastrophe and 50 times: It is a beautiful catastrophe.”
In the blog I hope to gain greater understanding of what it means to be a part of creating these "beautiful catastrophes" we call cities and just how that understanding might affect my designs, starting with the studio development atop our beloved parking garage.
“Space and light and order. Those are the things that men need just as much as they need bread or a place to sleep.”- Corbusier
“A hundred times have I thought New York is a catastrophe and 50 times: It is a beautiful catastrophe.”
In the blog I hope to gain greater understanding of what it means to be a part of creating these "beautiful catastrophes" we call cities and just how that understanding might affect my designs, starting with the studio development atop our beloved parking garage.
“Space and light and order. Those are the things that men need just as much as they need bread or a place to sleep.”- Corbusier
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