Architecture at UCLA

Models and graphics taken from the UCLA architecture exhibition hall.

...a sheath for airplane wings?!

Having been in the West Coast for close to two months now, I've had a chance to have a taste of the recent fad that is CNC milling, both in SCIArc and in the UCLA School of Architecture. It almost seems like the attention to craft and handiwork (more so in UCLA than in SCIArc) has been relegated to a thing of the past, now that the milling machine or stereolithographer can do it better than anyone can anyway.

Yet, where does this lead to? Might we see a swing of the proverbial pendulum towards a design direction that places full emphasis on how nicely curvaceous one's architectural forms are (similar to how you might describe a lady vamp), and therefore, a misplaced emphasis on much mastery over the modelling tools you have. Except that I could be wrong - what seems, to me, to be a dangerous fad could actually be the harbinger of a new "ism" in architecture and construction!

This is tangential to the titular post, but a similar swing of (again) the pendulum can perhaps be attributed to our attitudes towards 3D animation cartoons. When Pixar released Toy Story back in 1995, we heaved a collective "whoa". When whatever studio it is releases Happily N'ever After in 2007, we yearn for the latest Studio Ghibli production, or the Disney classics of yesteryear (as far as animation goes anyway). Notwithstanding even a great storyline or the most lovable critters one has ever seen, the fad of 3D animated films seems to have wore very, very thin.

Toy Story, Pixar, circa 1995

Happily N'ever After, (?), circa 2007

Howl's Moving Castle, Studio Ghibli, circa 2004

Same goes for photorealism in architectural visualisations. What were awesome visualisations, in 3D Studio no less, in the 1990s now look terribly cheap, in the light of what Brazil, V-ray and other engines can achieve. There is no end to the quest for photorealism in visual simulations, yet, after a while, would anyone really care how photorealistic your images really look?

Which leads me to this. There's a talk on the quest for impossibly photo-realistic images at the UCLA Broad Art Centre (kudos to Jawn for the heads-up), scheduled for 13 February. (More info here, down the middle of the page.)

An excerpt on the matter of discussion:

"Historically, the holy grail of the computer graphics community has been to produce highly realistic images simulating lifelike environments, objects and characters. As advances in photorealistic CG tools, realtime graphics and displays race ahead, we can begin to wonder further: How and when will digital content eventually afford the viewer immersion and transport to holographic, alternate phantasms for entertainment and education? What are the stepping stones along that path? Let's turn an examining light on our energetic, unselfconsious quest for this holy grail. We’ll rewind and fast forward our thoughts on the topic with experts from the research and film communities."

In some ways, it is actually very encouraging (and for me, previously unencountered) that members of the creative industry are actually going, hey, let's stop this for a while and take a step back, and see where we've come and where we could be headed. Much, much resource has been put into the quest for photorealism - the development of newer, better, best rendering engines, the massive processing power needed for these efforts, the massive number of man-hours that have been put in in order to make the leaves on every single tree in the animation rustle, when more could've been put into screenplays, storylines - or in the case of architecture, the architecture itself.

So maybe, a few years down the road, we might just see the same thing happen in architecture, insofar as an over-reliance on CNC milling, parametric design, etc. are concerned.

I could be wrong, of course. Much of what is deemed meritorious in any creative vocation is, after all, a question of taste.

Under Surveillance

A hovered spaceship
A city under surveillance
Presence imposed, insolently

Run as I might,
Fly as I might,
I escape not its gazing reach.

In that panoptic disc, they sit.
Through the tinted screens, they peer
And wield, that extra-terrestial power

A hall of justice, they say.
A UFO, we say.
If only fear would fly away.

Pedagogy in Liberal Arts Colleges

Hi all, this is a general post but more directed to Ronald, given his background as an undergraduate in a liberal arts college. I'm curious as to how the architectural pedagogy in liberal arts colleges is like, and why I'm curious is because many of us come from architecture schools which are either housed within a separate department (and which more often than not tends to want to segregate itself and function almost autonomously), or architecture schools that are self-serving and self-sufficient (SCIArc, the AA). These schools (and some departments), we've read of and know a lot about, as they usually tend to be at the fore of any discussion pertaining to architectural education in any major publication.

While it's probably a good guess that your education was not focused towards the vocational aspects of the profession, what were its mainstays? And how, if at all, can you use what you've learned at Wesleyan in your work with your current firm (in your current capacity anyway)?

Just being nosey. ;)

random architecture-related comic

Dudes, I haven't checked in for so long and suddenly the blog looks so... professional! Good work!

Then and Now - Further Elaborations

In response to Hann’s response, I find a need to elaborate and further meditate upon my “Then and Now” posting of Alfred Wong’s National Theatre alongside our new Esplanade performing arts centre. My intentions for the original post appear to be misunderstood.

Rather than to elicit a purely formal comparison between both buildings, my intention was to place both buildings in an active dialogue, bearing in mind the contexts surrounding their births. Different as their contexts were, the intentions for both buildings’ constructions were uncannily similar-- to impress onto the built environment (and thereby onto public imagination) the prevailing aspirations for their respective ages through architectural expression. Both were flagship public projects which enjoyed state patronage.

If I may raise an example to prove this similarity, it is the medium of the postcard. A Singapore postcard from the 1960s was likely to feature the National Theatre, as uncannily as how a Singapore postcard from today would feature the Esplanade as an icon of Singapore. (The image of National Theatre here was indeed a postcard image.) In both cases, architecture played a symbolic role through their urban presence and image. Given this similarity, the true reason for their difference rests in the prevailing contexts.

The National Theatre came into being at a time of uncertainty. The nation of Singapore in 1965 was then an untested artificial concept, and its survival questionable. At a time when the hitherto-colonial city’s inhabitants were disparate Chinese, Malay and Indian communities, only an overarching national aspiration could unify the people toward the goal of a viable nation-state of Singapore. Unsurprisingly then, the source-material for the expression of the National Theatre was not from the vernacular culture of the disparate communities of Singapore, but rather the national flag. (a artificially constructed symbol of statehood that was only created in 1959)



Axially (and structurally) weighted on the five spokes, each spoke symbolised each of the stars on the Singapore flag: democracy, peace, progress, justice and equality. The curvaceous form of the sculptural fountain was the crescent of a Singapore flag: representing a young nation on the rise. Although its cantilever was formally dynamic, it was nonetheless strictly symmetrical and centrally unified. The theatre would be a statement on a nation aspiring to modernity, resting on a base of social discipline.


Perhaps the picture above would elucidate my point more clearly. Here, an imposing National Theatre stands witness to marchpast ceremony for the 1968 National Day Parade. The strict rhythm of National Theatre’s façade echoes the discipline of the uniformed police contingent. The stage is set for nation building. The very bystanders watching the marching regiment in awe are the target-audience on whom the building was to impress. The semiotic message behind the building was that of a modern socialist independent nation.

If the National Theatre symbolised an aspiration to modern statehood, the Esplanade’s ambition was to urban cosmopolitanism. The primary message was not that of Singapore the nation, but of Singapore the city – or rather, the world-class global city. It was the outside world that the Esplanade sought to impress, not the average man-in-the-street. (even though it did awe the man-in-the-street) The image it sought to convey was that of cultural maturity – of the occidental city variety. Its source reference is, therefore, the Sydney Opera House. Perhaps a comparison of the two images of celebratory cosmopolitanism below will do my point justice.



Hann mentions that the brises-soleil is the feature that is unique, or at least, it’s the medium through which identity show through. I concur and say that it does possibly resemble an Asian basket-weave, or the king of all fruits. But if one were to critically read into the building, one notices that the Singaporean uniqueness of the building rests literally just on the skin. The body-massing and plan on which the skin sits is generically cosmopolitan. (a la Sydney Opera House. Designed by Michael Wilford, no less.) Perhaps uncannily, the Esplanade encapsulates the paradox of Singaporeaness, or its identity-oblivion thereof. That maybe we are not as Asian as we claim to be. Hopefully though, not quite like the picture below.


Do not mistake my opinion. Controversies notwithstanding, I believe that the Esplanade is imaginatively successful. It has drawn city inhabitants to a place like no other building has, where city dwellers make memories and are awed by the image of a city. Yes, it symbolises our aspiration for Singapore to be a world-class city. Yet, the Esplanade still sits on the fence between being what it feels like it ought to be, and what it wants to become. Perhaps this is merely symptomatic of where Singapore is at this moment of its history. Hopefully that will change with we make more personal memories there, and the place starts to take on a different meaning.

This entry is very much inspired by my dearest professor of architectural history, Joseph Siry, who taught me how to weave every individual building a single broad narrative, from whom I learnt how to make my own discoveries from the work of every master.

Lightouch Design Competition 07

http://www.lightouch.org/

Hey Jawn, Crystal might be interested in this?
Or any of you guys for that matter?

Quote of the Day

A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
- Margaret Mead

Made you think eh??
Now let's sit down and be thoughtful.....

Evolving Aspirations

Since we're on the topic of aspirations, local vs global, I'd like to share the contents of a conversation I had with a friend who used to be from a certain committee in a certain planning authority in Singapore.

We were talking about Marina Bay, and how countless fingers have pointed at it accusingly that it is catering only to the elites, and have no room for the locals. And he said yes, that is exactly what Marina Bay was meant to be, a playground for the elites. If you want a piece of the local pie, go to Chinatown, go to Little India, go to Geylang. Our nation needs a place like Marina Bay to complete the picture the authorities are painting for the world.

That comment confirmed the validity of my questions I had in mind. But it hasn't answered them. My question was, is this what we should be portraying to the world? Is there room for the average Singaporean in Marina Bay, the New Downtown which, for many – resident, visitor, or one who’s never been here – inevitably becomes the metonym for Singapore? I guess there's no right or wrong answer, and the answer to this question depends on your values in life.

Let me paint a scenario: I am married with 4 kids, and my family has been supporting me for the past 10 years during down times. Things have picked up recently, thanks to them, and now I have the opportunity to cast away this shadow of my past and get a job that is high paying and shoots me into superstardom. The only problem is that not all my kids are smart, and my wife is not as pretty as the secretary they picked for me. What should I do? Is there room for my family in this bright prospect of a future?

Up until this point, you may be wondering. Am I in the correct blog? Where's the architecture? That, incidentally, was also the same question my friend asked. Do Architects really need to dwell into the realm of politics? Can't Architects simply focus on creating nice spaces to enrich people's lives?

Well friends, that's the question I pose to you too.

Response to "Then and Now"

I had trouble posting a comment on the blog (which will be ironed out once the interface and template are ported over to the new Blogger), which resulted me in typing the following three times. (The first two times I was stupid and uninformed, the third time I had an epiphany and decided to type in MS Word instead!)

In any case, this is a response to Ronald's previous post, "Then and Now". First up, thanks, Ronald, for the very interesting posts and the very evocative imagery (particularly in the Cambodia post!!) that you've given us over the past week. Most enlightening (again, thanks the Cambodia post - I'd never encountered these architectural gems before.)

Well, here goes nothing. ;)

----

“Which do you prefer?” That’s pretty hard to answer. Which do I prefer, simply by looking at the two photographic images? (Which are inherently propagandist and nonobjective by virtue of the selection of the scene by the photographer?)

Or, which do I prefer, by virtue of the architect’s expressions in tandem with the “spirit of the age” in which they found themselves?

It seems unfair to either building that either of them has been made to compare with the other, without any basis for comparison, and without anything new learned even if I told you which I preferred. It seems unfair that either building has been reduced to an image to be compared with, as an image and not as a space, not as a product of any inherent cultural/artistic catharsis that may have happened to result in either building.

Perhaps the only similarity they share is that they’re both performing arts venues. Whether they’re both in Singapore or not is irrelevant as neither image suggests that, but yeah, that’s another similarity. As you rightly pointed out, they were borne out of different times, different desires for the nation to express itself (and express itself with), and (this we all know) different architects.

Well, I can’t respond to either of the above questions, simply because I have to explore a piece of architecture in order to know what it does (or does not do) to me. Naturally I can’t do that for Alfred Wong’s theatre now – if only I’d been born earlier / if only they hadn’t torn it down. I can’t respond to the second question either: “which of the architecture (vis-à-vis their ‘spirit of the age’) do you prefer”, as I wasn’t around in the 60s and 70s, (nor had I the intelligence in the 80s and 90s to make my own opinions).

That said, I DO in fact like the Esplanade building. Well, I’d say “complex” rather than building, because I like it as a whole complex. If you’re talking about the “shells” themselves though – I prefer the space under the shell, rather the shell as a form (but even that in itself has an intrinsic, evocative, cultural reference). The space under the brise-soleil provides for excellent photography, and the quality of light that comes through can be brilliant, depending of the time of day. I’d imagine that space to retain an equally charming quality – if not even more charming – if the Esplanade wasn’t air conditioned. The weave of spikes in the Esplanade’s shell brings to mind the basket weave (or more recently, plastic weave) that your moms and aunts used to cover your food with to prevent flies from getting to it. In fact, when I first visited the Esplanade, the first thing that came to mind was one of those food cover things – is there any nomenclature for those things? – rather than a durian or a fly’s eye or a bra cup that the Esplanade has so often been associated with. This has probably got to do with the weave-pattern skin. It would be interesting if the Esplanade were non air-conditioned – the experience beneath the brise soleil shell would be very different indeed.

Another thing it brings to mind is a large giant fishtrap (again because of its skin, and some deviant imagination on my part). Which does lead to the interesting question if the building were not air-conditioned – what would the “pigeons flying in : pigeons finding a means to escape” ratio be? (Again, fishtrap inference – once in, can’t go out.)

Hmmm. Yet, from the various photographic remnants of Wong’s National Theatre, and with a very small leap in imagination, I imagine myself liking to be there as well. A few factors contribute to this: the nice lawns out in front with the nice fountain (I really like the coconut-cusp form from which the fountain jet emerges – that really looks ahead of its time!!), the “retro-whore” that I am, the spokes (also partly reminiscent of Niemeyer’s cathedral and the Institute of Foreign Languages in Cambodia which you earlier posted), and reminiscent of the ribs of animals used to line the side of tribal drums, for stretching the animal-hide to create the diaphragms for these drums. Yes, I’m very piqued by the culture-specific references and the resulting feelings that such forms evoke.

Both buildings are naturally evocative in terms of the feelings they have evoked in me, as far as cultural references are concerned. It’s a pity though, that I can’t experience the space behind the drum spokes (or within the building for that matter) of the National Theatre, nor imagine what it would be like. It’s in fact a little sad that that potentially remarkable (and environmentally-relevant, as your ballerina has avowed for) space has been reduced to a nice picture postcard, which is the only form I’ve seen it in. Sure, the exteriors are highly iconic and possibly emblematic during its time, but I’m sure there’s more to that building than meets the eye. To Alfred Wong – R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

Yet, as it is, there is little basis of comparison between the two highly meritorious buildings.

Well, to “which do you prefer”… which do YOU prefer? ;)

Then and Now

National Theatre (1964, demolished 1986) by Alfred Wong


Esplanade Theatres-on-the-Bay (2002) by Michael Wilford & DP Architects

I thought that it would be interesting for these two buildings to appear side by side, to see how differently the spirits-of-the-age were represented in iconic performing arts architecture in Singapore, 40 years apart. One represents national aspirations, the other represents global aspirations. Both played witness to world-class performing acts and momentous cultural events. How similar, how different.

Which do you prefer? (The retro-whore in me opts for the former, while the spoilt-by-air-conditioner me opts for the latter. )

"The five-pointed facade represented the five stars of the Singapore flag in the same way as the fountain was supposed to represent the crescent moon....... Ballerina Dame Margot Fonteyn once described it as 'the perfect one for this sort of climate.'" (click on link to read more about the National Theatre)