“Background building” is a term of derision. As architects, we understand and appreciate the necessity of background buildings. Gehry’s Bilbao wouldn’t have its “effect” if not framed by centuries of dense urban fabric. Unfortunately, architecture has become a zero-sum game. To stand out we must stand apart. To be heard we must be loud. To be new we must destroy, forget, ignore the old. Like so many aspects of modern culture, architecture is entrapped under the tyranny of the OR instead of enriched by the genius of the AND. Larry Speck’s Health Learning Building on the Dell Medical School campus is a design that attempts to reject these simplistic false choices. The design would not be considered “traditional” architecture. It features the latest trend in staggered window fenestration, sustainability bling, and the ubiquitous community stair found in so many academic buildings. However, Speck has been careful to assure the building fits in to the urban fabric and natural environment in which it is sited. In the years to come it will fulfill the role of being a background building, but like the talented architects of the past like Borromini, Bernini and Wagner, it’s unique personality and detailing will bring it to the foreground for those whose tastes have matured beyond magazine cover money shots.
Photo by Richard Jaimes
Mehr Dunkelheit
Consider Darkness. Most architects seek to animate a space with light. Goethe’s last words were said to be “Mehr Licht! Has anyone ever said, “More darkness”?
I wonder if that’s precisely what the designers of the “W” Hotel’s interiors said…“More Darkness!” Darkness appears to be a design element that is used to advantage both interior environment and hotel guest. Darkness helps create a mysterious place, a hidden place, a sexy place. The record room, restaurant bar, tequila bar, and of course the secret bar have their own properly calibrated level of darkness. Reducing visibility helps extend the space and blur boundaries. The stair between 1 and 2 is fantastically dark. The translation between floors is safe, but also an adventure.
Is this darkness just an aesthetic of shadowy clubbiness? Perhaps, but if one compares it to the light filled spaces of the South Congress Hotel you might find the W uses darkness to welcome a wider range of clientele. Both hotels have no shortage of beautiful people; however, the W has created a place for the rest of us. Darkness helps hide middle age wrinkles, cellulite, varicose veins and the libidinous motives behind offering your lover one more drink.
Ceiling at SOCO Hotel entrance photo by Christopher “Kit” Johnson
An Unexpected Mess
The recently completed South Congress Hotel by Michael Hsu is the latest addition to the studio’s portfolio of work. Many, such as myself, were excited about the conversion of a parking lot into a street friendly Michael Hsu masterpiece. Sadly, I have this impression of the hotel—it’s a mess.
This building lacks a clear idea. The idea could be to pack several functions into one building and allow each function to be it’s own entity. If this is the idea it fails. Rather than a clear separation of function, the resulting composition is a blur of materials.
The material palette has most of Austin’s architectural staples. There is raw site cast concrete with it’s smooth form liner face. Raw steel is smattered about ready to patina. Clear coat pine and terra cotta screening add warmth to the composition. The gold window frames harken vintage 60’s chic, but come off with dated 80’s faux fanciness. But herein lies the problem—too many materials. There is one bright moment in the design—the ceiling lights at the entry. I wish the building could take a cue from this brief moment of restraint and edit the mess to such simplicity.
Silence and Light
A worship space speaks loudest when it’s empty. The first moment I stepped into the sanctuary of La Tourette it was the deafening silence that struck me. Empty and dark—barely illuminated by the sun. Silence and light. This was the way I encountered Agudas Achim by Lake | Flato. The Rabbi left us alone in the silence. I don’t want to equate Agudas Achim with La Tourette’s spartan beton brut rawness. The space itself is rich, welcoming and comfortable. Silky smooth concrete, and steel painted with a dark warm french gray is furthered warmed up with oak paneled infill and furnishings. I found the steering of daylight equally as impressive as the silence. Filtering in through side slits, overhead orifices and modulated through the layers of stair & sloped balcony the space is not dark, not bright, but just right. Layers of light, pools of light, and wonderful silence. The space incarnates the spirit of Louis Kahn. His palette of concrete and wood. His idea: silence and light. I’m reminded of a favorite passage….”And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood.
Look, Think, Ask…..Ask, Think, Look
Biking up to Scogin and Elam’s Federal Courthouse I encounter a “stop” sign. It’s not a true stop sign, but a red octagonal sign that causes me stop and read its words…words which are
LOOK
THINK
ASK
I don’t know why the sign is here, but it’s a good approach to encountering a work of architecture. Look—really look—at the work. Look at the materials, the massing, the order or lack of. Look at the parts to the whole. Think—think through how one approaches, enters and moves through a building. Think through the relationships between the architectural work and how it relates to the neighboring buildings around it. Think through the relationships of the rooms inside. And ask questions. How does this work reflect its cultural milieu? What is the architect trying to say though this work of art? Will this building transcend time? How does this building address the urban context around it? Is it a good neighbor or an aloof prima-donna? Is it civil toward the natural environment. Does it work with nature or ignore it? How does it embrace the people in its shadow and its volumes? Ask, think and look some more.
FOR ALL...It’s Why I’m Here
“For All” The words grabbed my attention as I flew by on my bike. I didn’t read them as much as they grabbed me. Their bluish neon pink caught the corner of my eye and the marquee sign of the Paramount caught the other. I wasn’t ready to start my homework but it worked—the garish glow scattered on both sides of Congress grabbed my attention and I had to stop. I pulled over to read once again fresh like the first time, “WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL.” Sans serif, eight foot tall, neon pinks and blues. “FOR ALL” That’s what it’s about right? That’s why we are here. This is why I’m here—stopping my bike—clicking pictures. I’m here because that’s what I want. I want liberty and justice for all. I want the same joy, equity, and full life for everyone. More specifically I want to share the beauty of architecture for all the wonderful people around me. This is why we are here right? In this class? In this school? That’s what we want. We want to share what we believe in. We want to share what brings us joy. This is why I’m here.