Hasta La Ideas

This conceptual design for a family home by postgraduate architecture student Gonzalo Vaíllo Martínez features a fluid structural frame, a skeletal staircase and a skin incorporating blinds that open and close like gills (+ movie).

Starting with the standard functional spaces required by a single family residence, Vaíllo Martínez based the form of the house on scientific advances in fields such as microcellular systems and biogenetics.

“Everyone has in mind what the standards of a normal house are today,” Vaíllo Martínez told Dezeen. “They are the principles established in Modernism, where spaces were separated by function and the aim was how to relate these spaces to one other and the surroundings.”

“This project is based on this distribution of the program in a very simple but strict way,” he continued. “The house is an exercise in blending a much more complex, multiple and emotive architectural language with a common single family house program.”

Designed as a modular system that can be adapted to any site, this version of the house was developed for a sloping plot at 2217 Neutra Place in California, which is located between two houses designed by Modernist architect Richard Neutra. Vaíllo Martínez feels these houses represent the outmoded typologies of twentieth century architecture.

“When the system is moved into a real location it evolves and mutates according to the constraints defined by the surroundings,” he explained. “It can be placed anywhere and the specific conditions of each location will modify the house in one way or another.”

The house comprises three interconnected units, with an entrance leading to pods containing various services which are partially submerged in the hillside and connected to the main living areas below by a fluid staircase.

A third unit housing the bedrooms and a terrace is detached from the main structure and raised above the ground at the bottom of the site.

Using 3D computer modelling processes that enable surfaces to expand, contract and respond to different parameters, the shape of the house was animated and deformed to match the topography of the site.

The fluid skeleton is intended to be constructed from structural concrete, with the complex facade panels and tangled supporting framework produced using 3D printing processes.

Organic louvred panels incorporated into the building’s skin open and close like gills, while other openings stretch and widen to adjust the amount of light entering the interior.

Vaíllo Martínez suggested that, although the building may appear unrealistic, it could be constructed today using contemporary technologies and manufacturing methods.

“We have more than enough technology not only to design projects such as this one, but also to materialise them,” he claimed. “This is not science fiction or something possible in the near future, it is possible today if we push the boundaries of the resources we have now. Budget is another issue.”

The project was developed by Vaíllo Martínez during his postgraduate studies at the University of Applied Arts Vienna, and follows his proposal for a cave-like auditorium for the Tate Modern gallery which he designed as an undergraduate at Spain’s Universidad de Alcalá.

Here’s some more information from Vaíllo Martínez:

2217NPL House,  Gonzalo Vaíllo Martínez

Located in the outskirts of Los Angeles, the starting point of the design is based on the standards of a single family house. The exuberance of the form is the tool that develops an aesthetic able to corrupt the original principles and establish a negotiation with the contemporary way of life in a day-by-day house.

The project is thought as a continuous mixture of conventional elements that create an emotional empathy with something that is familiar for everyone (social memory), combined with external contaminations that brings new behaviors and perceptions of the spaces.

The house is divided into three units. The first one is a half-underground piece, which contains the main entrance and the services of the house. The public areas are located in the second one (on the ground) and in the last one appears the private rooms, which detach from the ground. In this way, the three units are positioned in the same height and it is the relationship with the sloped topography that defines each piece structurally.

The aggressive exterior made out of the combination of a wire-linework, mobile facade panels and metallic surfaces, creates a contrast with the soft and continuous interiors.

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based on biogenetic forms appeared first on Dezeen.

Fairytale story Alice in Wonderland becomes the backdrop for a dystopian world filled with fantastical structures in this competition-winning project by writer Kevin Wang and artist Nicholas O’Leary.

Wang and O’Leary, who studied together in New Zealand but are now based in England and Norway, won the competition run by New York organisation Blank Space to develop a modern fairytale set within a fantasy architectural environment.

Penned as the final chapter to Lewis Carroll’s famous story, Chapter Thirteen imagines “a bucolic yet futuristic world” where a grown-up Alice is battling to escape a wonderland that has become confining and frightening.

“The images were not intended to present an ‘ideal’ world, but one that is somewhere between dark and light, somewhere open for interpretation, a world between natural landscape and constructed cityscape,” Wang and O’Leary told Dezeen. “The architecture was integrated as architecture should be integrated – as an auditorium for life.”

“We tried to draw from nature to create the architecture of each image,” added O’Leary. “These floating balls were modelled on the structure of beehives, while other forms were inspired by mushrooms and fungi.”

The images were designed as a vertical journey through space, and gradually change colour from a yellowish green to a rich red. “We imagined a linearity from morning through to evening,” said O’Leary.

The project was chosen ahead of 300 other entries, judged by a panel that included architect Will Alsop, interior designer Nigel Coates and University of Minnesota professor Jack Zipes.

“The need and will to communicate universal messages resonates with every entry to the competition,” said Alsop. “Each entry is infused with topics and themes both inspired by the participants’ extremely diverse cultural backgrounds and from commonly shared thoughts and preoccupations about architecture’s role in today’s world.”

Scroll down to read the story text:

Chapter Thirteen

Tonight, I will end this life.

This is not the world I grew up in. A chess piece pinned on a two hundred square foot white box. Bounded. Absolute. Unrelenting walls inexorable after the hours I stare. Whispering a language without articulation, its only response the occasional pounding from the other side. A glimpse of life beyond these walls in the briefest of moments returns stoic as the door slams shut. Severed from desire, yearning of what is beyond reach. A barrier exists unseen and unnoticed. Few inches of air that separate its surface to me. I clean, I polish, I scrutinize over these encapsulating shells. They surround my life, yet recede into the background. There is no reason for contact. There is no reason to exist.

I am tired of these blank walls confining me. These lines are static. They are unforgiving. My English Ivy at the corner never made her reach to the window, she would not last the winter. Her shriveled yellow leaves scattered on the floor mixed in with strands of my fallen hair, barely a foot away from salvation. Her remains will slowly decay along with the carcasses of the rats that rule this city; the shadows that inhabit a world between ours.

Inside. Outside. They are no longer any different. Over-sized openings show me another interior enclosing my own prison. The world out there. Another cage with more restrictions. More rules. More limits. More of the cold steel, and hard concrete walls. Endless, and anonymous. They grow taller every year; perhaps reaching for fresher air, perhaps searching for a spot further away from the rest. I see open windows beyond my own, they show me adjacent bodies remaining completely unaware of the next, longing for signs of life. I am no different from them. No more free. No more wiser. Each compartment dressed for escape. Paintings, photographs, elaborate sculptures, all reminders of places far from here. I was once an eagle, the Queen of my world. Now a battery chicken, a body without organs. Feeding this city.

Don’t follow me. The unyielding pavement pounds against the bottom of my soles, vibrating the city up my spine. Don’t follow me. The cold pierces through my skin and pricks at my bones. Don’t follow me. The smell is nauseating, it lingers and reappears in my sleep. Don’t follow me. The stench of rot and fading life penetrates the city, disguised by chemicals of ocean fresh, lavender blossoms, white linen. I am pursued by those I cannot see. Constant noise wherever I go. Sharp sirens and low horns. Bangs of the steam pipes. Creaks of the floorboards. Stilettos against marble lobbies, and rattling of trains. A living corpse, this is the machine. This is the city.

I am disengaged with all that surrounds me. The footpath leads me to places I do not wish to go. This alienating city is bitter. Day after day I wake, I walk, I stand, and I sit. I am incarcerated within the flesh that has betrayed me. It takes me to spaces swarming with other lifeless forms, smashed inside a moving sardine can, transfixed to the sickly warm glow of the screen in their fat sticky fingers. Longing for connections in a virtual world. There is a thin film of slime on every surface. The metal bars smeared with fingerprints leave suggestions of previous life. Life, that is promised behind the posters. Life, that exists elsewhere. Vacant glances down to the ground, out of the darkened portholes partly obscured by the humid interior steaming up against the glass. Moist and stale. Suffocating. Occasional glimpses of flickering lights, and scribbles on surfaces defiant of the city. Still, there is no escape.

Where can I go? The city rejects me. Pounding lights and deafening sound, mixed in with smells of alcohol, smoke, and sweat, find me no refuse. Flocks of a new religion, looking for machines of freedom. Dripping bodies grinding against the next faceless form provide no more connection than my lifeless walls. It numbs whatever was left at the end of the day. Accepted obscenity in a neat box, with a cherry on top.

My body aches, movements prescribed. The city is the architect of my body, the puppeteer with invisible strings. It tells me where to walk, where to stand, and where to sit. I am judged wherever I go. Eyes from behind the curtains, above the newspapers and dirty magazines. They see me, they judge me, and they haunt my every move. See what good little girls and boys are made of. We stand in colored lines, moving one step at a time motioned by flashing numbers overhead. The factory floor of the human farm. Order inscribed into our psyche is not without constant reminders. Signs and lights burn into my eyes wherever I look. They say,
No Standing Anytime.
No Climbing.
No Sitting.
Keep Off, Private.
Green.
Orange.
Red.
Stop.
Every inch of this city screams at me.

No more attachments with this city, nothing would remain. I will not be missed, a headline soon forgotten. They called me crazy when I was younger. Last time I fell there was more. A world that moved me. A world with life. A wonderland created for the girl I was then. Now stuck in this moment that I’ve been told as truth, constructed with glittering gold. No more wandering blind. I have to get back.

I will fall. I will succumb to the city. Return to the blank slate, and we will be bound together in flesh and mind.

Eternally,
Alice L. Dodgson

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wins architectural fairytale contest appeared first on Dezeen.

A nomadic city moves from place to place like an enormous tank in this conceptual proposal by architecture graduate Manuel Domínguez.

Entitled Very Large Structure, the futuristic megastructure is designed to wheel itself from one location to another to find better economic and physical conditions. Rather than using up the resources of the places it visits, it would be able to produce its own energy and establish new buildings before moving on.

“The VLS is a territorial manager, a synergistic machine within its environment,” explained Domínguez. “It is not a machine that uses the local resources until it finish them and then leaves to the next one, in fact is the other way round, since its aim is to restore the territory.”

With a length of 560 metres, the city would be made up of three levels. The lowest would function as a warehouse and construction area, while the middle would accommodate mechanical functions such as waste disposal and air conditioning, and the top storey would be used as a living deck where new architectural structures can be tested.

Domínguez says the project could actually be built, as he based it on preexisting systems and technologies that include mining machinery, transport infrastructures, eco villages and robotics.

“I think it’s feasible because it’s made with existing technology but I’m not sure if it’s desirable,” he said.

The structure is based on a giant gantry crane. A total of 36 oversized crawlers would allow it to move, propelled by the kinds of electric engines used in large sea vessels.

“VLS is a theoretical utopian project trying to be as realistic as it can get, and even though everything is technically calculated as if it was going to be constructed, I perfectly know and assume it’s just an assertive investigation,” said the designer.

“The drawback I guess is the amount of energy and land surface reinforce it will need in order to move,” he added.

Domínguez, who is a member of architectural collective Zuloark, completed the project for his masters thesis at the Escuela Técnica Superior de Arquitectura de Madrid.

Via Fast Co.Design

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tracks by Manuel Domínguez appeared first on Dezeen.

This conceptual technology by architecture graduate Chris Kelly would allow individuals to project digital imagery over their perception of reality and then manipulate it like the layers of a Rubik’s Cube (+ movie).

Chris Kelly developed the concept for his graduation project at the University of Greenwich, exploring how flaws in human perception can cause contradictions with reality and how virtual environments can be used to reveal more about a person’s surroundings.

“Our understanding of space is not always a direct function of the sensory input but a perceptual undertaking in the brain where we are constantly making subconscious judgements that accept or reject possibilities supplied to us from our sensory receptors,” he says. “This process can lead to illusions or manipulations of space that the brain perceives to be reality.”

The idea is based around the science that the senses gather various streams of data every second, which are then selected or rejected by the human brain. Kelly proposes a digital device that could compile all of these pieces of information and relay them back to the individual within the limits of their physical space.

“The redirection techniques and the use of overlapping architecture allow the same physical space to hold a much larger virtual space,” he told Dezeen.

Referencing existing virtual reality technologies such as bionic contact lenses and the voice-controlled Google Glass headset, Kelly explains that the technology could be used in endless scenarios.

“One of the more obvious uses is in the gaming industry. Another possible use is in the architectural design process, where rather than creating fly throughs or models that can be viewed on a screen it would be possible to actually move through a virtual mock up of a design or even work from inside a virtual model whilst editing it in real time,” he says.

Chris Kelly completed the project for Unit 15 of the architecture diploma course at the University of Greenwich, now led by the Bartlett School of Architecture‘s former Vice Dean Neil Spiller. The unit is a reincarnation of the Bartlett’s successful film and animation module, which boasts Kibwe Tavares’ award-winning Robots of Brixton project as one of its products.

See more of this year’s graduation projects, including a series of towering seaside structures and a shape-shifting ballet school.

Here’s a short description from Chris Kelly:

Rubix

The project was conceived as a complementary exercise to the written architectural thesis Time and Relative Dimensions in Space: The Possibilities of Utilising Virtual[ly Impossible] Environments in Architecture that explores the way in which virtual environments could be deployed within the physical world to expand or compress space. The thesis investigated existing research in neuroscience, psychology and philosophy, which was added to with empirical primary tests, to identify gaps in our perception that lead to a contradiction between our perception and reality. It was found that when moving with natural locomotion, such as walking in a physical space our perception of distance and orientation is incredibly malleable and can be manipulated by replacing the visual sense with a virtual stimulus that differs from what we would experience in reality. This manipulation can take the form of redirection techniques, such as rotation and translation gains and overlapping architecture which result in a stretching or compressing of distances in the virtual environment we see whilst moving through a physical space. This effect creates a TARDIS space which allows vast expanses of virtual worlds to be explored within a small physical space without ever reaching the limits of that space.

The aim of the rubix project was to develop an animation that described a conceptual tool for deploying these malleable virtual environments that could be used by their creators to shift space around us. The rubix concept stemmed from the need for an algorithmic formula for controlling the use of redirection techniques; it allows for many different spatial combinations whilst a level of control is constantly maintained. In the animation the initial Escher-esque space is a representation of our perceptual system where huge amounts of information arrive in the brain from multiple streams. The process of perception involves the brain selecting and rejecting contradicting pieces of information leading to a perception of reality that only gives us glimpses into the world we are in.

The animation represents a journey through the chosen site that was explored during an earlier project which was a stretch of the Docklands Light Railway between Beckton and East India stations. The virtual journey is compressed into 5 minutes using transitional spaces that enclose the explorer whilst the environment shifts around them. The redirection techniques deployed in the film have been exaggerated in some parts to make them more identifiable but as explored in the thesis it is also possible to deploy them subtly so the shifts in the environment would not be perceived. The development of products such as Google Glass and bionic contact lenses at the University of Washington mean it is becoming increasingly possible to overlay virtual information on the physical world. In the future this information could be overlaid so subtly and convincingly that it is possible that distance and space will become increasingly malleable and cavernous virtual spaces could exist within a small physical space, with Doctor Who’s TARDIS becoming a perceived reality.

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Chris Kelly appeared first on Dezeen.

London’s Battersea Power Station is transformed into a museum of architecture and surrounded by a giant roller coaster in these competition-winning proposals by French studio Atelier Zündel Cristea (+ slideshow).

The conceptual plans were awarded first prize in the international competition coordinated by ArchTriumph, which invited applicants to suggest how the crumbling brick landmark could be used as an exhibition centre dedicated to architecture.

“Our aim was to imagine a new cathedral to architecture, a building that will challenge its sister structure, the Tate Modern, for international acclaim,” said Atelier Zündel Cristea, explaining how they looked to Herzog & de Meuron’s renovation of the Bankside Power Station for inspiration.

A curved scaffolding structure would weave in and around the building, creating a network of pathways between the exhibition spaces and providing the tracks for the roller coaster running along on top.

“We conceived of a double-faceted project,” said the architects. “On one hand, a calm and contemplative interior, dedicated to the collection’s display; on the other, an exterior opening upon the surrounding landscape and providing breathtaking views.

Designed by architect Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, Battersea Power Station was constructed in the 1930s and spent over 50 years generating electricity for London. Over the years since its decommissioning, the building and its surrounds have invited dozens of development proposals and the site is currently earmarked for a mixed-use complex of apartments, shops, offices and a theatre.

Past proposals for Battersea Power Station include Rafael Viñoly’s plans for a 300-metre tower and an “Eco-Dome” and Terry Farrell’s idea to convert the building into a park. There was also an offer to convert it into a football stadium. Read more about Battersea Power Station.

Another extreme proposal for an iconic building released recently was a plan to extend the Guggenheim Museum in New York by continuing the spiral upwards.

Here’s a detailed description from Atelier Zündel Cristea:

Battersea Power Station London

The Site

London stands on the River Thames, its primary geographical feature, a navigable river which traverses the city from the southwest to the east. The city is home to numerous museums, galleries, libraries, sporting events and such cultural institutions as the British Museum, National Gallery, Tate Modern, British Library, Wimbledon, as well as over 40 major theatres.

The Battersea Power Station, which was built between 1930 and 1955, is situated a few miles south of Marble Arch on the south bank of the Thames, facing the borough of Chelsea. The decommissioned station is one of the best known landmarks in London and an excellent example of Victorian architecture. It is also the largest brick building in Europe, notable for its original Art Deco interiors and decor.

The area surrounding the site is characterised by a mix of residential, commercial, and industrial uses, with the presence of warehouses as well as rail infrastructure. Battersea Park, situated on the banks of the Thames towards the west, is an important element in the makeup of the neighbourhood. Like the power station, Battersea Park has its own fascinating history, from the Fun Fair which began as the Pleasure Gardens of the 1951 Festival of Britain, to the new century’s Millennium Arena.

A Temple of Power

The Battersea Power Station was built, due to the proximity of the cooling presence of water, on a 61,000m² plot of land situated on the south banks. From its inception, the station was very popular. It symbolised progress, industry, and a new type of power: the Power of the People.

The structure is made of a steel frame with brick cladding, similar to the skyscrapers built in the United States around the same time. The building’s large dimensions measure 160 metres by 170 metres, with the roof of the boiler house extending to over 50 metres high. The four chimneys are made of concrete and reach a height of 103 metres.

After being in operation for 40 years, the two wings have both ceased generating electricity, A station in 1975, B station in 1983. Over its seventy year history, the station has taken on iconic status, having been represented in many forms of popular culture, from films to music videos to video games.

A New Site for Architectural Pleasures

Our project envisions the regeneration of the Battersea site within a new park combining leisure and architecture, in creating a popular spot welcoming to all, dedicated to the pleasures of mind and body, replete with unique experiences. A space for learning, relaxation, and discussion; an architectural and cultural village in the heart of the city.

A museum of architecture, based on the Parisian Cité de l’Architecture model, will through a series of galleries present a panorama of architecture and cultural heritage from the Middle Ages to today. A highly varied collection of materials will illustrate the major changes that have taken place in international and British architecture throughout the centuries. Abbeys, cathedrals, historic city mansions display the wealth of their sculpted and painted decor, as well as the complexity of their structures. Train stations and skyscrapers attest to the technological and formal innovations of the modern era. Public and residential buildings bear witness to the changes in society and lifestyles.

The originality of the collections stems as much from the monumental scales of the displayed volumes as from the remarkable variety of supporting materials: stained glass, scale models, drawings, books, films, and prototypes… The discovery of which invites visitors on an architectural journey through time and space.

We tried to keep in mind the principal reasons for why people would visit the new Battersea Museum of Architecture: the opportunity to see and experience architecture while learning about it as a profession and discussing it with others; people watching and mingling amongst fellow visitors; exploring the architectural setting of the power station; revisiting familiar works of art and architecture. Our aim was to imagine a new Cathedral to Architecture, a building that will challenge its sister structure, the Tate Modern, for international acclaim, and establish a new visual reference point for the city.

A Playground for the Mind and for the Body

The development of culture is one of the highest possible human ideals. Therefore, in every museum it is not the exhibition of works that has meaning, but the presence of visitors and their wandering through and exposure to displays of works that stimulate meaning.

We have introduced the foreign element of a rail into the space of the power station, which will function above all in animating the empty space. It will offer visitors entering the structure a primary pathway, allowing them to take in the essential layout of the building with a minimum of effort. With the pathway determined by the presence of the rail, the simple fact of moving through the exterior and interior spaces of the station begins to make sense.

In its spatial ambition, our project encourages play and fun, categories largely devalued in the traditional world of art. Conceived in this way, cultural spaces are liable to attract new types of visitors. Our project puts the power station on centre stage, the structure itself enhancing the site through its impressive scale, its architecture, and its unique brick material. Our created pathway links together a number of spaces for discovery: the square in front of the museum, clearings, footpaths outside and above and inside, footpaths traversing courtyards and exhibition rooms.

The angles and perspectives created by the rail’s pathway, through the movement within and outside of the structure, place visitors in a position where they can perceive simultaneously the container and its contents, the work and nature. They come to participate in several simultaneous experiences: enjoying the displayed works, being moved by the beauty of the structure and the city: river, park, buildings.

The project has the strength of evoking the dimension and scale of man in the contemporary era, putting into question our relationship to the structure. It is not only a matter of showing, but also of suggesting post-industrial poetry. We conceived of a double-facetted project: on one hand, a calm and contemplative interior, dedicated to the collection’s display; on the other, an exterior opening upon the surrounding landscape, providing breathtaking views.

Museums are NOT FUN! Museums are FUN!

Can we design a museum in which new design ideas are explored, architectural experimentation is encouraged, and the profession challenged, while attracting large numbers of visitors? Alongside certain serious and important topics, the element of fun in museums is important!

For some people, “fun” is a loaded word. Some people would consider words like enjoyable, pleasant, worthwhile and so on, better terms of evaluation for the experience of visiting a museum. For a certain proportion of regular museum goers, “fun” is simply not a word they would consider using in describing the museum experience, implying as it might for them dumbing down, simplification, or out of place hands-on activities, commotion and even noise. Unsurprisingly, almost all of these respondents are over the age of 50. When it comes to younger respondents however, “fun” is a word often used to describe the museum experience, and in very positive terms. But the use of the word “fun” in describing the museum experience should no longer be limited to a particular generational or social category.

We believe that museums can make learning “fun”, therefore museums can be “fun”. As young adult architects with children, we often seek out experiences that combine fun and culture. Museums can provide artistically qualitative but fun activities for the entire family. And this is a trend we are delighted to see taking shape, the positive connotation of “fun” for many people with regard to museum going. Generally, museums are indeed fun, and we hope that increasing numbers of people come to view them as such, regardless of age.

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Power Station by Atelier Zündel Cristea appeared first on Dezeen.