Hasta La Ideas

The way we build must fundamentally shift to harmonise with tree and carbon cycles in order to realise the Timber Revolution, writes Smith Mordak.

There’s an argument that’s often trotted out against building with timber: there isn’t enough of it. The fear is that if we built everything out of wood there wouldn’t be a tree left standing.

This fear seems to be rooted in the idea that sustainability is about substitutions. For example, swapping out concrete, steel, and masonry for timber, but otherwise carrying on exactly as we have been. If we did that, we could well deforest the earth; meeting our targets while catastrophically missing the point. The pursuit of sustainability shouldn’t be to find a ‘green’ way to destroy ecosystems – yes I’m going to poison you, but don’t worry, the poison is organic – it should be about finding a way to live as part of a healthy, regenerative ecosystem.

The pursuit of sustainability shouldn’t be to find a ‘green’ way to destroy ecosystems

I sometimes detect an accompanying undertone to the not-enough-trees argument that almost suggests building buildings out of living things is somehow wrong; that exploiting bio-based materials is worse than exploiting ‘dead’ stuff; some kind of extreme architecture veganism. I wonder whether this comes from the idea that what would be best for Earth is if humans buggered off: put a big KEEP OUT sign at the edge of the atmosphere and divert humanity into little uber-urban enclaves on other planets.

Some might accept the premise of not-enough-trees and tackle it with supply and demand logic: sure, humanity is demanding too much stuff, but that’s okay – we just need to innovate on the supply side by finding ways to grow more trees faster, thereby permitting us to take more trees faster. It’s tempting to accept that argument and leave it at that, because then we don’t have to confront this deep-seated ideology that nature gives and humans take.

There’s a very seductive myth around trees being the original givers in this dynamic: that trees evolved and promptly forested the world to create a cosy oxygen-rich environment that allowed humanity to come forth. However, despite so many sexy tree-woman depictions of Mother Earth (just google it, you’ll see), I don’t buy that trees’ destiny is to provide for us.

Yes, wood is pretty amazing stuff: from a structural engineering perspective it works in compression, tension and bending making it super versatile, and it’s got a strength-to-weight ratio any gladiator would dream of. Combining these properties with its ability to suck up and store carbon from the atmosphere, it’s no wonder wood is hailed as the superfood of the built environment salad. But using timber needs to be more than a fad diet. We’re not going to address the long-term sustainability of creating habitats for humanity with the engineering equivalent of a juice cleanse.

Trees do have form when it comes to calibrating the atmosphere, but they didn’t create Earth for our liking. Early plants colonised land from around 470 million years ago, and sucked up so much carbon from the atmosphere it was never the same again. Within 50-ish million years, oxygen reached present day levels such that it was possible for large, breathing animals to evolve. This incredible feat was achieved in collaboration with fungal mycorrhizal symbionts. The plants’ fungus buddies could access the rock-bound nutrients that made all that lovely growth possible.

But this was a big change for those early plants. They were used to getting lashings of carbon dioxide through their open stomata without having to worry about drying out. In the now-carbon-dioxide-depleted environment, they were losing water fast so needed a better system of sucking up moisture from the soil. Enter lignin. Lignin is what makes your barbeque taste like barbeque, and also, one of the forms of organic polymer that create robust drinking straws for woody plants. It’s these tough, dead cells that allowed plants to evolve into towering forests.

Using timber needs to be more than a fad diet

Which brings us to another myth. This is lesser known, but you might have heard the theory that there was a lag between the evolution of lignin and the evolution of microbes and fungi that could break it down, resulting in billions of trees growing, falling over, not rotting, piling up, and eventually being squished down to create great fat seams of coal. It’s a great story, but the evidence doesn’t back it up.

There are indeed fat seams of coal that were all deposited at around the same time, but this peak actually occurred because wet tropics coincided with nice big basins for collecting the future-coal as part of the assembly of the supercontinent, Pangea. And yes, all that carbon sequestration did cool temperatures. It was an important factor in bringing about the Late Paleozoic Icehouse.

We started extracting from these thick ‘Carboniferous’ coal seams a couple of hundred years ago, and have since been making quick work of transferring all that sequestered carbon back up into the atmosphere under the auspices of ‘nature gives, humans take’. The last few decades we’ve been worrying that there’s not enough for us to take. Not enough coal, not enough oil, not enough timber, not enough ecosystem services.

We don’t seem to appreciate that we’re never really taking stuff, we’re just breaking it down and moving it about, often making it useless to the ecosystem in the process. We never really consumed that carbon, we just shifted it into the atmosphere and a few people amassed great privilege in doing so.

We characterise emissions and other toxic effluents as pollution; as stuff that’s leaked out from where it’s supposed to be to where it isn’t supposed to be. We seem to think that the solution to the climate crisis is to tackle this pollution by working out how to stop things from leaking. We seem to think that we have that much control! But we can’t detox our built environment by swapping out fossil-fuelled building materials for timber any more than we can detox ourselves by swapping out our lignin-flavoured barbeque for a juice cleanse.

What if, instead, we stopped trying to solve the problem of an unhealthy ecosystem by trying to build impenetrable walls between the ‘good’ parts and the ‘bad’ parts: walls between nature and humanity, between humans and polluting industrial processes, between polluting industrial processes and the atmosphere? What if instead we accepted that we are continuous with everything on Earth and, like those early plants, need to nurture our relationships with our buddies – fungus and otherwise – to ensure we slot into an ecosystem that can support life as a whole?

We should definitely build with timber, but not because nature is there for us to pilfer

It’s just like skipping (or jump rope). You’ve got two friends spinning the rope and you want to jump in. You don’t just career in and steal the rope. You watch, you listen, you internalise the rhythm, and then at a carefully judged moment you make a dash, and keeping pace with the rotations you jump, jump, jump as the rope goes round, round, round. It’s true for the rotations of the skipping ropes and it’s true for the water cycles, carbon cycles, nutrient cycles, rock cycles – all the cycles. We need to observe, understand the rhythm, and then keep pace.

We should definitely build with timber, but not because nature is there for us to pilfer and not because it’s a silver bullet for balancing the carbon budget. We should build with timber because we and trees evolved in the same oxygen-rich environment, so we can cohabitate; we can share our water and nutrients and carbon and lifecycles.

This means slotting our buildings into the big game of carbon jump rope in such a way that respects and keeps pace with the rhythm. This means building buildings such that the resources we use to make them can regenerate within the building’s lifetime. We should cohabitate with trees because they’re the best Earth-mates a human could dream of.

Smith Mordak is a multi-award-winning architect, engineer, writer and curator and the incoming chief executive of the UK Green Building Council.

The photo is by Jason Leem via Unsplash.

Timber Revolution
This article is part of Dezeen’s Timber Revolution series, which explores the potential of mass timber and asks whether going back to wood as our primary construction material can lead the world to a more sustainable future.

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Vaulted ceilings and earth-toned furnishings feature in this house in Puglia, which architecture practice Studio Andrew Trotter has converted from a 19th-century school.

The home, named Casolare Scarani, transforms a girls’ school dating back to 1883 that was abandoned in the 1960s. Through its renovation, Studio Andrew Trotter aims to bring life back to the structure while retaining its original character.

“Prior to the renovation, the school was totally abandoned, with plants growing inside, no doors, and falling plaster,” studio manager Marcelo Martinez told Dezeen.

“The house was beautiful, old, with so much character, and not too big,” he continued. “We wanted to bring it back to life without destroying its essence.”

Having discovered the building a few years before recommending it to its client, the studio was drawn to the abandoned school due to its unique qualities that resemble features of two traditional Puglian buildings – lamias and masserias.

“In the countryside you usually find small lamias, which are stone sheds for the local landowners to store equipment; or very large masserias, where the affluent landowners would have once lived,” said the studio.

“It was quite unusual to come across a building that had the style of a masseria, but the size of a small villa.”

Studio Andrew Trotter aimed to keep as many of the building’s original features as possible, including its stone portico that has a vaulted ceiling and looks out onto the garden.

“We tried as hard as possible to leave the exterior patina where we could,” said the studio. “Together with the clients, we spent days scraping off years of flaky paint, to reveal the beautiful stone of the portico.”

Inside, the former school’s vaulted ceilings were kept intact and covered, along with the walls, in a lime plaster created by a local artisan.

The rooms are finished with earth-toned finishes and furnishings, such as traditional stone flooring made from crushed rocks and mortar, which nods to the original design.

An arched doorway to the side of the portico leads to the living room, which sits underneath a star-vaulted ceiling. To one side of the room, an existing recess that was once used for cooking has been kept intact and transformed into a seating area with built-in benches and a fireplace.

“The recess in the living room is one of the building’s original features,” said Martinez. “We believe it was used for cooking and staying warm.”

The garage and stable of the original school have been replaced with a kitchen and dining room, while an old donkey house now contains a laundry room. The kitchen features a wall of unglazed orange zellige tiles.

Other rooms in Casolare Scarani include a main bedroom suite, which is located on the first floor, along with two downstairs bedrooms.

To extend the existing structure, Studio Andrew Trotter added two blocks to the back of the house to contain ensuite bathrooms connected to the bedrooms on the ground floor.

Based in Barcelona, Studio Andrew Trotter has worked on various other projects in Puglia, including a villa made from locally sourced sandstone and a holiday home amidst olive groves in Carovigno.

The photography is by Salva López.

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Dutch designer Piet Hein Eek has joined Dezeen Awards 2023 as a judge. Here he selects five projects that best reflect his studio’s work.

Eek, who describes himself as “a designer, producer and distributor of my designs,” says his projects, which range from furniture to architecture, reflect his unique perspective and approach to design.

“Respect for what the world offers is the starting point of all my work,” he told Dezeen. “Material, technique and craft are where I begin all my designs.”

Currently, Eek is working on a redevelopment of the Nyma Textile Factory at Nijmegen, as well as smaller projects and ongoing commissioned designs for objects and interior projects.

Piet Hein Eek among Dezeen Awards 2023 judges

Dezeen Awards 2023 launched on 15 February in partnership with Bentley Motors. On Tuesday we announced the first five Dezeen Awards judges including architect Farshid Moussavi and art director Patrizia Moroso, who will be joining designer Eek on the judging panel.

The early entry period ends on Wednesday 29 March. Click here to submit your project and save 20 per cent on entry fees.

Read on to find for Eek’s views on the five projects that best represent the work of his studio.

RAG building, Eindhoven, the Netherlands, 2019

“This building was the engine room of an industrial area which was demolished to make room for housing.

“Our own studio building, the RF building, and the RAG building were the only remaining buildings. We redeveloped all of them.

“The RAG building was not so easy because of its size, which is nearly 1,000 square metres. By making one opening, we broke through the building and created its own street.”

Piet Hein Eek’s studio, Eindhoven, the Netherlands

“I think what we realised in our premises – with our workplace, showroom, store, restaurants, hotel and studios, which feel like home for so many – feels like my biggest achievement.”

Oak Chair, Eindhoven, the Netherlands

“I like it because the chair is specifically designed for our way of producing in small quantities – series are never bigger than 100 – and instead of moving parts through a factory, almost the complete chair is made on one machine.”

“All traditional techniques to make a chair were abandoned. The chair is made with a lot of attention and skills but not in a traditional manner.”

Zambia project, Haarlem, the Netherlands

“I was asked by an old friend I studied with to design chairs and tables to be produced in Africa for the European market. The project was funded by a church in Haarlem, and the goal was to create jobs for people who became disabled because of the war.”

“The chairs and tables were made and transported to Holland but we found that transporting the chairs over land was as expensive as the making costs. The price of a chair was too high so the project stopped.”

“Years later we found out that the disabled carpenters actually made a living by making my designs and variations of them. Unexpectedly, it became one of the most successful projects I’ve ever contributed to.”

Mavaleix, Chalais, France, 2015

“In 2005 I bought a ruined old water mill in Mavaleix, France. It took more than 10 years to rebuild the two buildings.

“After years I realised that the river was used to transport the huge stones to the construction site as well as the iron wheels or the mill itself coming from the forge a mile upstream!

“200 years ago they understood better what nature provides because they didn’t have a choice. Now we think we have a choice, but I think we should always keep in mind what the world has to offer, not what we want the world to provide to realise what we want!

“It’s more or less the way I work; creating with what the world offers. The mill gave me a story covering all of my work!

All images courtesy of Piet Hein Eek.

Dezeen Awards 2023

Dezeen Awards celebrates the world’s best architecture, interiors and design. Now in its sixth year, it has become the ultimate accolade for architects and designers across the globe. The annual awards are in partnership with Bentley Motors, as part of a wider collaboration that will see the brand work with Dezeen to support and inspire the next generation of design talent.

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Bulbous steel tanks hang from where carcasses used to be suspended at the ÅBEN brewery in Copenhagen, which local studio Pihlmann Architects transformed from a slaughterhouse into a a restaurant and bar.

Located in Copenhagen’s Meatpacking District, the brewery is housed in a 1932 butchery that has been used for various commercial activities since the early 1990s.

Pihlmann Architects maintained and restored many of the slaughterhouse’s original features as part of the renovation for Danish beer company ÅBEN.

“Turning the space back into a food production facility, with all the pragmatic measures we had to keep in mind, generated our ideas from the very beginning,” studio founder Søren Pihlmann told Dezeen. “Bringing back the authentic character of the space was key.”

Arranged across one open-plan level, the brewery features the original gridded rail system from which 980 carcasses used to hang when the space was a slaughterhouse.

Pihlmann Architects replaced the carcasses with conical fermentation tanks that are reached via a low-hanging galvanised steel walkway – also suspended from the listed building’s original sawtooth roof.

Geometric clusters of white wall tiles that have been preserved since the 1930s were also kept in place, echoing the brewery’s original purpose.

“Bringing the key elements back to a worthy condition was more of a task than deciding on which [elements] to keep,” noted Pihlmann.

Spaces are delineated by slaughterhouse-style semitransparent curtains, which cloak various dining areas that are positioned around the restaurant’s central open kitchen where visitors can experience the brewing process up close.

Furniture was kept simple and “unfussy” in order to emphasise the restaurant’s industrial elements, including angular chairs and bar stools finished in aluminium and wood.

“The [material and colour] palettes are true to function on the one hand and [true to] history on the other,” said Pihlmann.

Crimson red flooring runs throughout the brewery, which was in place when the building was purchased. It was maintained to add warmth to the otherwise clinical interiors.

At night, the restaurant’s electric light absorbs this colour and reflects from the fermentation tanks, creating a more intimate environment.

Making the food production processes visible was at the core of the design concept, according to the architecture studio.

“It’s not only about the preparation of the food, it’s more about the brewing taking place,” continued Pihlmann.

“The space which produces thousands of litres every day is open for everyone to step into, and actually see how and where the product they consume is produced.”

“Today, we are so detached from what we consume, we just go to the supermarket and pick it up from the cold counter having no clue where it’s coming from,” she added.

“I’m not that naive to think that ÅBEN alone will change anything, but I’m convinced that it’s important to change this detachment.”

Pihlmann described her favourite aspect of the project as “how the elements we’ve added both submit to and utilise the existing space, not just visually but also through their structural function”.

“The building is built to carry a huge load,” she reflected. “Back then, it was tonnes of dead meat. Today, it’s enormous serving tanks from the ceiling.”

Founded in 2021, Pihlmann Architects was included in our list of 15 up-and-coming Copenhagen architecture studios compiled to mark the city being named UNESCO-UIA World Capital of Architecture for 2023.

Previous slaughterhouse conversions include a training school for chefs in Spain that was once used to butcher meat and a cultural centre in Portugal that is currently being developed by Kengo Kuma and OODA.

The photography is by Hampus Berndtson.

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The idea of a Bluetooth speaker that doubles as a lantern for outdoorsy adventures is nothing new. But when the execution of this dual utility is outrightly unique, it calls for that perfect product that holds merit in the current gadget industry.

GravaStar who’ve surprised geeks with mecha-inspired Bluetooth speakers in the recent past have added another sci-fi speaker cum LED lamp to their line-up. Dubbed Supernova, the accessory looks like a three-legged robot, something anyone would want to sport in their geeky den.

Designer: GravaStar

The Bluetooth speaker besides looking really inviting to own, fairs well when it comes to the overall build quality, functionality, and hardware specifications. It is crafted out of a solid zinc alloy metallic body standing on GravaStar’s iconic tripod legs that we saw in their previous designs. The accessory with a 3-inch full-range speaker has 25 watts of power, 90db of output, and half-inch high-frequency tweeter for rich, crisp sound delivery.

The USP here is the transparent tubed center that beams light to double as a lantern for outdoor adventures or even indoor fun. There are three different modes of lighting, one of which emulates a flickering campfire. In the music-playing mode, this light can synch to the rhythm of the audio for partygoers.

GravaStar Supernova weighs 2.2 pounds in total and churns out approximately seven hours of playback on a single charge. Pair two Supernova speakers together and you are in for an encapsulating sound experience while listening to music, watching movies, or seeing viral content. The device has a Bluetooth range of 20 meters which should be more than enough for most users.

This accessory will definitely tick all the checkboxes for a geeky setup, given its ultra-modern sci-fi vibe highlighted by the peculiar robotic element. For a price tag of $180 Supernova is well worth the spend. If it’s already piquing your interest, the Bluetooth speaker can be pre-ordered right away, with shipping promised by April 9, 2023.

The post Robot-inspired GravaStar Supernova speaker doubles as lantern for outdoor enthusiasts first appeared on Yanko Design.