arcCA DIGEST, “Staying in Business”

ARCCA Archives, Relevance|

The economy seems to be going strong – although, as The Architects’ Newspaper reports, the Architectural Billings Index dipped in March for the first time in two years. So who knows? Rather than wait until things really head south, the second season of arcCA DIGEST, “Staying In Business,” offers prescient advice, a little prognostication, and the business case for Zero Carbon Architecture, accompanied by interviews with Art Gensler and AIA California’s 2019 Distinguished Practice Award winner, Anne Fougeron. Also in the mix: advocacy for the architectural workforce from The Architecture Lobby and Equity by Design, directions to a vast online archive of 20th century architecture magazines, the wisdom of Jack MacAllister,  the provocations of Mark Miller, and a little humor.

 

Browse the latest arcCA Digest here.

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We’re thrilled to announce the launch of arcCA Digest

AIACA, ARCCA Archives|

arcCA_Digest

We’re thrilled to announce the launch of arcCA Digest – the online successor to arcCA, the quarterly print journal of AIA California. ArcCA Digest is what it sounds like: a compendium of articles, videos, and podcasts, some of which are newly written or created at our invitation; some of which come from other trusted and admired sources; and some of which come from the arcCA Archive-which, by the way, is now fully online, in easily readable and searchable HTML format.

arcCA Digest seeks to do what arcCA sought to do: It shines a light on the circumstances within which architects work on and our responses to those circumstances. Like its predecessor, arcCA Digest has quarterly themes-or, in the Netflix spirit, seasons. Season One, which launches today, is on housing. It begins, as every season will, with a roundup of crucial topics, as identified by a range of experts. We call it “What To Look For.”

Other new articles include an interview with Robert J. Geering, FAIA, Senior Design Principal at Fisher Friedman Associates from 1962 to 2004; a look at the ups and downs of Fresno’s Lowell Neighborhood, the first in an ongoing series on architecture in the Central Valley; a history and critical assessment of LA’s Park La Brea, by D.J. Waldie; and a gallery of recent farmworker housing projects.

You’ll find arcCA Digest at arccadigest.org. We invite you to explore it, and we welcome your suggestions for making it even better.

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Looking Back at Operation Breakthrough

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

[Originally published 4th quarter 2007 in arcCA 07.4, “preFABiana.”]

 

Operation Breakthrough spun fiberglass proposal by Spuntech Housing Corporation.

__________

Operation Breakthrough was a program of the US Department of Housing and Urban Development, authorized by the Housing Law of 1968. Under HUD Secretary George Romney, former chairman of American Motors Corporation, it combined a competition to identify promising approaches to industrialized building with a federal effort to aggregate a market for these new models of housing. arcCA spoke recently with Richard Bender, architect, planner, and author of A Crack in the Rear-View Mirror: a View of Industrialized Building (NY: Litton Educational Publishing, Inc., 1973); architect and urban planner Larry Dodge, and UC Berkeley associate professor Nicholas deMonchaux about Operation Breakthrough and its lessons for prefabricated building today.

__________

NdM: My interest in how prefab was being conceived in the ‘7os has to do with an investigation I’m doing, an architectural history of the Apollo XI spacesuit. Our enormous military industrial complex, with its vast expertise in systems and management, failed when it came to the task of making a spacesuit. Their hard, one-piece systems, which looked beautiful, failed, and the actual Apollo XI spacesuit was made by the Playtex bra company. It was a twenty-one layered, messy assemblage of different fabrics, only one of which was specifically designed to go into space. It was all adaptation and softness and messiness—the qualities that a lot of human landscapes have.

When I first got into the book, I thought there would be only a conceptual link to human landscapes, but it was interesting to discover that Bernard Schreiber—a developer of the ICBM—ended up founding Urban Systems Associates, a consulting firm for urban problems; or that Jay Forrester, who invented the Whirlwind computer at MIT, which ran a lot of the simulation systems used in the Cold War, wrote one of his last books on urban systems; that Harold B. Finger, who was an administrator at NASA, went to HUD, where he was a principal manager of Project Breakthrough. And not only did he go to HUD but, by the time the Apollo program was winding down and NASA was downscaling, a lot of NASA’s state of the art physical technology was rolled down Constitution Avenue into Marcel Breuer’s HUD building, and people tried to figure out how to apply it to the problems of the city.

One of the more interesting parts of the current conversation about digital technology is the notion of parametric design, which can allow you, instead of designing objects, to design systems to design objects. So, based on local conditions on a facade, for instance, a louver can be milled in a particular way. And my limited research into Operation Break· through teaches me that none of these ideas are actually new.

RB: The title A Crack in the Rear-View Mirror came from the fact that a lot of what we’re speculating for the future is actually happening around us, and we don’t see it. For exam· pie, some of the companies that were submitting for Operation Breakthrough had been in existence during World War II. There had been a program then, preparing for after the war, in which the government solicited proposals for prefabricated housing. If you go back to early San Francisco, you’ll find prefabricated churches (shipped from Boston) during the Gold Rush.

Building Systems Development’s School Construction Systems Development project was a precedent for Breakthrough. There’s a picture in A Crack in the Rear-View Mirror of a helicopter putting an air-conditioning unit on the roof of the first test building, the first unit made to go on a roof. It came out of the building systems design process, and it revolutionized the way air-conditioning is done in industrial roofs. It was designed for schools as a way to be more flexible.

The idea was to get manufacturers to make things they wouldn’t make otherwise, by first aggregating enough schools with a similar need. A second idea was to make performance specifications for significant parts, like the air conditioning, and to tell people that if you can make a system that meets these specifications, there would be a big enough market to try it.

 

Cover of Architectural Design, November 1971, showing members of the Building Systems Design team.

LD: BSD also did an industrialized housing project for HUD, which served as a model for Breakthrough, a bunch of small, scattered sites-1 can’t recall the number, maybe 2,000 units scattered throughout 200 sites in East St. Louis, Illinois. The response was not to make whole units but to be as efficient as we could in off-site fabrication that would still be responsive to particular site conditions. We tried to fabricate smaller scale elements of commonality off-site plumbing walls, for instance. There’s a tendency, however-whether to make more money, or to demonstrate a difference from somebody else for marketing purposes-to make things bigger and simpler for the producer. So even though I thought we had been too crude, when it got transferred to Breakthrough it was cruder yet.

Subsequently, we worked on one housing producer’s Breakthrough project that envisioned spinning Fiberglass housing modules in shapes with inherent strength. But the next step was: well, these are going to be for low-income folk, and the constraints were enormous. You couldn’t stigmatize the poor by doing some weird-shaped house.

 

Breakthrough proposals by TRW Systems, left, and Townland, right.

RB: The best way to introduce innovation is from the top down. If you build prefabricated luxury houses, then eventually it becomes acceptable. If you introduce an innovation at the lowest economic level, there’s a feeling that you’re experimenting. And you are. The Katrina trailers are an example. They found out after families lived in them for a while that they poisoned people.

When you talk about the low end of the market, very often the advantage is not in the factory but in the way things are financed. As you put more into the module, you put more into the mortgage. When I was young, the refrigerator didn’t come with the house; if you go back further, the closets didn’t. We put more into the mortgage, and you finance the dishwasher and the refrigerator over a thirty-year period, and they don’t last more than five years. So you’re still paying for that first refrigerator. If you put less in the building and let people accumulate and finish it later, you may have a better strategy for making low-income housing than to try to build a finished house.

LD: Another problem was that the military thought in terms of a single housing market and one product. That wasn’t a response to the varied conditions of each project. It was too far away—a kind of space-view of the project.

 

James Aldrin m the Apollo XI spacesuit; Breakthrough proposal by Alcoa.

NdM: That’s one of the points of my book. When it came to the individual bodies of the astronauts, one of the biggest battles that Playtex fought was to be able to size individual elements of the spacesuit to small, medium, and large for each astronaut. Even the slightest tailoring modification didn’t work in the institutional context.

RB: Boeing came to us at the time the supersonic jet was canceled. They had big layoffs, and they were trying to get into housing through Breakthrough. Boeing was fascinating: they were making the wings in Kansas and the body in Seattle, some of the engines were made by Rolls Royce, they all had to come together, and they were all working on them at the same time. That’s one of the keys with prefabrication, the idea that different people can make complex products in different ways but with the same interfaces.

NdM: A lot of this can be traced to the ICBM development. You bad an engine system and a fueling system and a gyroscope, systems so sophisticated that they needed to be developed separately. So systems engineers became interface designers, the new profession that came out of that process.

But even though the ICBM was complicated, it was in a way simple. This thing has to go up. it has to come down, it needs to hit the right spot and blow up. It’s rare that you get a problem that has a line drawn around it so clearly. One of the dangers in the systems approach, at least in the context of the military, was to say, “All these lessons we learned on this simple problem, we’re going to apply to things where the line is much harder to draw.”

LD: I feel I was a Neanderthal in a lot of ways, because I thought we were inventing rules, as though we can invent rules, or I know what’s best and it’s brand new. There’s something erroneous about the way industrial society has sliced up the world and then assembled new rules, whether it’s religion, or the Congress, or us inventing a new way of doing something, instead of seeing what happens and responding.

That there has to be a picture of the end product is the bane of every project. It could be because of financing, it could be land use organization, it could be somebody saying, “Well, we have to ensure a certain level of quality for the future.”

RB: A preoccupation of mine in this regard is evolution. The state of the art in evolutionary thinking focuses less on the traditional notion of evolution in search of optima, and instead on the idea of the best adjacent possibilities. That’s how systems change. A lot of what we’re talking about in the design of these systems is optima. Well, even if we identify what is optimal, we may not be able to get there from where we are. So we might look instead for possibilities that are better than where we are and adjacent to where we are, and we might look for systems to manage change.

Siegfried Giedion said that architecture begins with construction and ends with city planning. I started my career as a civil engineer. In New York, you could make a flat slab in an apartment house six inches thick and in a twenty-story apartment house get an extra floor. And you could just paint it. I realized architects were doing all the interesting work, so I went into architecture.

But one of the things you find out is, if you want to do low-income housing, you have to build a lot of houses. And when you’re talking about a lot of houses, you’ re going to need to become a planner, because everyone says, “That’s a good idea, but not here.” So my career moved from construction to planning before I realized it.

LD: If you look at things in a systems way, the end product is anywhere along the line. Everything is a component of some larger system. If you look at the world that way, then what’s the product? There isn’t any isolated product.

__________

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Coda: Albert Frey Gas Station

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

arcCA 01.1, “Awarding Honor.”] Author Lisa Padilla, AIA, is an associate partner in the Los Angeles office of Zimmer Gunsul Frasca Partnership, where her project focus is urban design and master planning for public and private institutions. She is a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ Anyone who has entered Palm Springs from metropolitan Los Angeles via Highway 111 has probably taken notice of the unofficial, yet much recognized, gateway to the desert region of the Coachella Valley: a structural sculpture comprised of a wing-like roof perched on slender pipe columns and concrete block walls the shade of red desert rock. This structure, more roadside monument than building, was designed as a gas station by architect Albert Frey (1903-1998) and sat uninhabited for years. Frey, a protégé of Le Corbusier, settled in Palm Springs in the 1930’s and became renowned for residential and commercial buildings that have become the staple of a style popularly known as “Desert Modern.” Recently, the building was purchased and carefully renovated into a private art gallery, “Montana St. Martin.” A striking white wall now encloses the structure and an outdoor sculpture garden, while allowing the signature roofline, still visible from the highway, to hover. Large expanses of glazing now enclose the original portals for the station garage. Frey’s thoughtful patterning of concrete block creates a refined interior where any mechanic (or art dealer) would be proud to work. __________ Photo by Anne Zimmerman, AIA. __________]]>

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AIACC 2001 Design Award Winners

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

arcCA 01.1, “Awarding Honor.”] arcCA is pleased to present here the Design Awards winners from the AIACC’s 2000 Awards Program, each one a remarkable project. The Editorial Board selected six projects to explore in depth. They follow the gallery. The selections are not judgments about which are the better projects. Instead, they identify stories—like the sixteen-year political struggle that led to the realization of Moonridge Village—that particularly intrigued the Board. Had space allowed, we would have loved to write about all fourteen. __________   [caption id="attachment_45776" align="alignnone" width="580"] Merit Award for Affordable Housing: 5th Street Family Housing, Santa Monica — Koning Eizenberg Architecture, Santa Monica, photo by Grant Mudford.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45777" align="alignnone" width="580"] Honor Award: California College of Arts & Crafts, Montgomery Campus, San Francisco — Tanner Leddy Maytum Stacy Architects, San Francisco, photo by Richard Barnes.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45778" align="alignnone" width="398"] Merit Award for Historic Preservation: San Francisco City Hall, San Francisco — Associate Architects: Heller Manus Architects, San Francisco; Komorous/Towey Architects, San Francisco; Finger/Moy Architects, San Francisco, photo by Robert Canfield.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45779" align="alignnone" width="580"] Merit Award for Historic Preservation: Hanna House Seismic Strengthening and Rehabilitation, Stanford University — Architectural Resources Group, San Francisco, photo by David Wakely.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45780" align="alignnone" width="580"] Merit Award for Design: Hergott Shepard Residence, Beverly Hills — Michael Maltzan Architecture, Inc., Los Angeles, photo by Richard Barnes.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45781" align="alignnone" width="580"] Merit Award for Design: Ron W. Burkle Family Building/Peter F. Drucker Graduate Management Center, Claremont University — Anshen + Allen, Los Angeles, photo by J. Scott Smith.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45782" align="alignnone" width="580"] Honor Award: Myers Residence, Santa Barbara — Barton Myers Associates, Inc., Beverly Hills, photo by Grant Mudford.[/caption]   [caption id="attachment_45783" align="alignnone" width="580"] Merit Award for Design: Harris Pool House, Palm Springs — Marmol & Radziner Architects, Santa Monica, photo by David Glomb.[/caption] __________ PS#1 Elementary School Santa Monica Koning Eizenberg Architecture, Santa Monica Honor Award Photos by Benny Chan Author Lisa Findley, AIA, is an architect and artist practicing in Oakland, an Affiliate Associate Professor in the Department of Architecture at CCAC, a contributing editor for Architectural Record, and a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ Designing a school always raises the question of how a building in which learning takes place might also teach. With the 20,250 square foot first phase of their project for PS#1 in Santa Monica, Koning Eizenberg Architecture have answered this challenge in playful and sustainable ways. Despite its name, PS#1 is a private, non-profit elementary school. The project is the first part of a three-phase Master Plan for the 175-student facility, spread over three lots, including one across an existing alley. The Master Plan knits the site together, using buildings to contain the playground. Only the first phase is complete, with Phase Two, the Library and Aftercare Facility, and Phase Three, a Multi-Purpose Activity Center, not yet underway, as the school considers buying adjacent property. Phase One, completed in January 1999 for just under $100 per square foot, includes a two-story bar with seven classrooms, administrative offices, and a bridge linking two pieces of the site over the alley. Koning Eizenberg held a number of workshops with the teaching staff and parents, as well as members of the local community. These were important influences in their thinking about the project. More profound, however, was their workshop with the children in which they realized that children are quite sophisticated in what they see and understand. It also became clear from this workshop that children are delighted by the way they move around, and they are sensitive to the size and nature of spaces they occupy. As a direct result of this workshop, the architects integrated a range of spatial experiences and a variety of ways to move through the site. The buildings are activated by hyperbolic paraboloid roofs and façades that are layered with windows, louvers, and canopies over doors. The size of spaces and the length of walkways are broken down and varied by the pushing out of a wall or the change in the height of an over- head plane. The stairs shoot out at angles from the building, with one enclosed on both sides by walls and the other open with steel mesh guard rails. The bridge, which connects the site over the alley, is built like a fishing pier with cracks between the floor boards so the children can see the alley below. Movement is further activated by the play of light and shadow filtered through different materials in different places: wooden slats here, steel mesh or corrugated fiberglass there. Rather than reduce the building to a series of recognizable childish icons, the architects decided to make it more like an artist’s studio: spare to allow room to create, filled with daylight, and straightforward and expressive in its structural expression. The project is playful as it teaches. Along the ground floor classrooms, big round concrete columns hold up steel I-beams that hold up the framing for the second story balcony. Inside the classrooms, exposed steel web joists make clear how the ceiling is supported. Students can easily understand how the buildings are held up and how materials are connected together. As with all their projects, the firm incorporated green building practices. They eliminated air-conditioning, much to the concern of the head of the school, who insisted that the infrastructure for air-conditioning be built into the building. However, the passive tactics of insulation, cross ventilation, and passive shading by louvers and vegetation work perfectly. Other environmentally sensitive strategies, including low emission and non-toxic and non-allergenic materials, were also used, particularly in the classrooms, and recycled plastics were used for the exterior benches. In this way, the building serves as a demonstration project for both the children and the community at large. The unusual spaces of the school provoke the students to think about their surroundings. With PS#1, Koning Eizenberg have won not only the approval of their peers, as indicated by the AIACC’s Honor Award, but also the approval of much tougher critics, the students. For the end of the school year celebration in June, the students did enthusiastic drawings of their favorite places in the building. The architects are proudly scanning these drawings into their website. __________ El Sereno Recreation Center/ Indoor Pool Los Angeles Cannon Dworsky, Los Angeles Honor Award Exterior photo by Timothy Hursley; interior photos by Tom Bonner. Author Lisa Padilla, AIA, is an associate partner in the Los Angeles office of Zimmer Gunsul Frasca Partnership, where her project focus is urban design and master planning for public and private institutions. She is a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ A common media representation of Los Angeles juxtaposes the skyscrapers of Bunker Hill against the San Gabriels, a privileged vantage seen from a helicopter or blimp, one that conceals as much as it reveals. Hidden from view are a number of working-class communities that developed in the hills east of Chinatown in close proximity to the region’s original industrial core along the Los Angeles River. El Sereno is one of these communities, a place defined by modest housing, local schools, and a neighborhood park, the latter a treasured remnant of open space. Many residents can walk to the park, which is in the geographic center of this roughly two square- mile district in the City of Los Angeles. In 1930, the city’s Playground and Recreation Department oversaw construction of the El Sereno Plunge, a municipal pool, bathhouse, and community center completed at a cost of $50,000. It was one of sixteen such facilities, respites for children and adolescents in need of “mental refreshment.” Here, trained staff offered classes in swimming, diving, and lifesaving, and under their watchful eyes the children of immigrants might become healthy citizens. In 1995, Cannon Dworsky, a Los Angeles design firm, received a commission to replace the 1930 Plunge with an up-to-date, year-round, indoor facility. The project sponsor, Councilman Richard Alatorre, was about to leave office, and the new complex was intended as his legacy for the district. According to Mehrdad Yazdani, design principal at Cannon Dworsky, the Councilman presented the firm with a rendering drawn in the style of a familiar, taco-making fast food chain. With assistance from the city’s Department of Recreation and Parks, the design team worked closely with Hispanic residents and community leaders in meetings and public workshops. Yazdani looked to the natural landscape surrounding the park as a primary design cue. Two elements, a one-story structure with multi-purpose rooms and lockers and the indoor pool itself, are housed beneath a graceful, sloping roof element mimicking the adjacent hills. The Department of Recreation and Parks expressed concern regarding the project’s initial cost and maintenance requirements. Local youth would need to be dissuaded from tagging the new facility. The team selected a combination of ceramic tile, metal panel, and painted plaster for the building’s exterior walls. Views to the outside were preserved with clerestory windows and, facing the park, with a large, open-air wall, which could be enclosed during winter days with translucent rolling panels. During project development, residents expressed mixed views about the building’s design. Younger members of the community believed the facility should have a dynamic form and reflect a newer El Sereno. The older members appreciated the familiar, mission-style references depicted in the Councilman’s preliminary rendering. These contrasting views were eventually resolved as long-term residents came to appreciate the design team’s functional layout and then began to value the formal merits of the design. Cannon Dworsky collaborated with landscape architect Calvin Abe on the integration of the building into the existing park. The park’s simple landscape of grass and jacaranda trees is pulled up to the buildings’ adjacent face. Low-shade planting preserves views from the indoor pool to the park and baseball fields beyond. Colorful, drought-tolerant ground planting was selected along the sunny, west-facing entry, in striking contrast to the deep blue tile walls that suggest the aquatic environment inside. Today, the Department of Recreation and Parks has been charged with upgrading facilities throughout Los Angeles. Most of these projects will be funded by a combination of existing funds and newly approved state and local bonds. The El Sereno Recreation Center and Indoor Pool project signals a readiness by the city and its residents for adventurous architectural expression in public facilities during this time. Architects and landscape architects should have increasing opportunities to partner with communities throughout Los Angeles, in a collaborative effort to build recreational spaces that can be enjoyed by all. __________ Conference Barn Middleburg, Virginia Sant Architects, Inc., Venice Honor Award Photos by John Linden Author Anne Zimmerman, AIA, is principal of AZ Architecture Studio in Santa Monica, a firm focusing on quality design f orthe public realm and the underserved, inspired by place andurban issues. She is a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ Sometimes, it’s tough to get even your own family to hire you. Initially, the parents of Michael Sant, AIA, of Sant Architects hired another architect to design a conference and office building for their non-profit foundation, which focuses on population and environmental issues. The scheme that resulted was very formal, and Sant was asked to comment on the proposal. He needed to assuage his parents’ concerns that, if retained, he wasn’t going to design a wild, Venice kind of building. Ultimately, the Sants did hire their son to design, for their 150 acre property in Virginia horse country, a structure that would relate an existing Miesian glass house with a traditional barn and provide them with office and meeting space. The challenge of the distant site seems to have been easily bridged; Sant Architects handled all architectural services including permits and plan check. Over the two years it took to build the project (due to the not uncommon reluctance of the contractor to build atypical but well-thought-out details), Sant and colleague Jason Teague made a total of five trips to Virginia. To prod and inspire the original general contractor, Sant’s brother-in-law, Dan Plummer of Plummer Construction, brought a “can do” enthusiasm to the construction of the building. Though not designed primarily as a “green” building, elements of appropriate technology wend their way through the design. The bluestone slab is radiantly heated, and natural cross ventilation allows the air conditioning to be used only rarely. Slatted shutters provide privacy and control solar gain. The roof and wall panels achieve an R-value of 30. Reclaimed timber columns and trusses from mills and factories provide a rustic richness. The steel roof is coated with a lead free, zinc and tin based coating. The dual-glazed sliding doors and skylight are low-E tempered glass, and the lift-and-slide hardware creates a tight weather seal, preventing wasteful infiltration. Maintaining a professional posture is sometimes difficult when the clients are your parents, according to Sant. There were tensions about the size and scale of the building, which now seem ideal to everyone. The lively acoustics of the building are a surprise success; music sounds incredible in the building. The end result is a beautifully detailed, elegantly proportioned and sited building, designed with environmental sensitivity, blending the simplicity of traditional Japanese design and precise Miesian detailing with the rustic qualities of traditional American barns. __________ Downtown Homeless Drop-in Center Los Angeles Michael B. Lehrer, AIA, Lehrer Architects, Los Angeles, with F. Ameen, Los Angeles Honor Award Photos by Michael B. Lehrer, AIA Author Anne Zimmerman, AIA, is principal of AZ Architecture Studio in Santa Monica, a firm focusing on quality design f orthe public realm and the underserved, inspired by place andurban issues. She is a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ Intrigue, politics, mayoral and political support (or interference, depending on the point of view), input by a developer/contractor friend of the mayor’s, project delays, personal conflicts, a multi-headed client and stakeholder team that boggles the mind, function as controversy, color as controversy: who could ask for a more dynamic, fascinating and ultimately more important project? Owned by the Los Angeles Homeless Shelter Authority (LAHSA), a city agency, developed by Single Room Occupancy Housing Corporation, funded by HUD, operated by Volunteers of America (VOA), and adopted by the Mayor as a “pet” project, it is a complex beast. The project’s context, Skid Row, is an intense, Bladerunner kind of place to the uninitiated. People and their belongings are everywhere. There isn’t much car traffic and people wander aimlessly or sprawl on the sidewalk in the shade. Trash, weird objects, and unpleasant smells proliferate. Over the years, Skid Row’s single room occupancy hotels (SRO’s) have been significantly upgraded. Many are thoughtfully designed by talented architects. Several missions and parks serve the neighborhood’s homeless. Until now, how- ever, there has never been anything like the Homeless Drop-In Center. Initially criticized by some activists in the Skid Row community as a “concentration camp,” a deceitful vehicle to herd and eliminate the homeless, it is instead a sanctuary, an oasis, and a respite from the street. The Center is about kind- ness and human dignity, and it is beautiful, working with the material and budget limitations of durability, maintenance, and affordability. It has also been recognized by an AIA/LA Award of Merit, an LA Business Council Beautification Award, and an AIA/Concrete Masonry Institute top award. The Center was designed to serve about 200 people per day. Approximately 800 to 1500 people now use the Center on a daily basis. A staff of 35 provides whatever services a guest might want. Nothing is forced on the guests, but a climate of “health realization” is promoted in which an individual’s assets are identified and nurtured. People are encouraged into transitional housing and into mainstream society. Food is not served; instead, guests are encouraged to utilize the nearby downtown missions for meals. Bud Hayes, CEO/Executive Director of Single Room Occupancy Housing Corporation, conceived the Los Angeles Downtown Homeless Drop-In Center on a napkin during lunch with Associate Executive Director Jeffrey Gilbert and architect Farooq Ameen, AIA, who later turned the design of the project over to Michael Lehrer, AIA. Hayes told those present he wanted a Mediterranean courtyard, lots of green, lots of open space, and a water feature. The result is a welcoming and non-controlling place for the homeless to congregate, shower, hang-out, store their belongings, and sleep for up to 8 hours. It was accomplished with an $850,000 construction budget (out of a $1.2 million project budget) and designed and built in 18 months. It is mostly an outdoor place, a working courtyard. The 8,500 square foot, U-shaped plan houses 32 dorm style beds (8 of which serve women and families), bathing, a “Clubhouse” multi-purpose room, administrative, health services and counseling offices, storage for belongings and laundry—all wrapping the 6,500 SF courtyard. The courtyard provides a variety of places, perspectives, and pathways and defines the architecture. Outdoor sleeping is allowed. Light and color are the medium of the architecture; vertical latticework, arcades, palm trees and trellises create changing patterns of sunlight and shade. More shade is needed, however, and shade trees would have made a great addition to the palms. There is no gate, though the City fought for one. The Center is open 24/7, so none was needed, and the developer eliminated it from the plans with a stroke of a pen at the 11th hour. The color scheme, which was a critical element of the design, was “nuked” by the developer, who sensed negative reactions to test colors from guests and those in power in the city. Graphic designer Adelle Bass tried to respect the value of the architect’s colors while changing them, with input from her peers in the Graphic Design Department at Art Center College of Design. Hayes has subsequently indicated a willingness to try the architect’s color scheme when the building needs to be repainted. There is no pressure here to behave a certain way or to participate in anything. There are no strings attached. As long as guests are not violent, they are welcomed by the Center. This is a place about and for people, one that allows people simply to be themselves. As Arthur Fox, one of the guests I chatted with, said, “This is the greatest thing that ever happened to Skid Row; living in the open can get pretty hectic.” The philosophical questions of the morality of homelessness in our society baffle the mind, as do the numbers: 80,000 homeless in Los Angeles County, including 30,000 in downtown LA and 8,000 in Skid Row. Though there will always be some people who have adapted and prefer the street, many of the homeless are on the street because of mental illness, substance abuse, or poverty, and they need options and support. A true continuum of care and facilities for people needing help does not exist in this society, though it has been envisioned by those actually involved in serving the homeless. Many more such oases are needed to provide a safe, enjoyable, and nurturing environment for the homeless in LA and elsewhere. __________ Moonridge Village Half Moon Bay David Baker FAIA & Associates, San Francisco Merit Award for Affordable Housing Photos by Cesar Rubio Author Tim Culvahouse, AIA, is editor of arcCA. __________ Mention “Silicon Valley,” and the last thing people think of is impoverished farm workers. Just over the hills from Woodside, however, along the coast of wealthy San Mateo County, farm workers’ families live in broken down trailers and makeshift shacks, or squeezed twelve together into two-bed- room apartments. In 1983, in response to these dismal housing conditions, County Supervisor (now Congresswoman) Anna Eshoo proposed development of a 40 acre valley just east of Highway 1 below Half Moon Bay. Sixteen years later, after innumerable challenges, Moonridge Village opened in September 1999, providing homes for 80 families out of thousands who had applied by lottery. In 2001, 80 more units will complete the plan. From the outset, the project faced difficult hurdles: lack of water and available sewer capacity and a lawsuit by the local school district, in addition to the typical scarcity of funds. After extended negotiations, a water supply was secured through an agreement between the county and the water district to bring a pipeline seven miles over the mountains from Crystal Springs. Sewage treatment proved more difficult. With stunning irony, environmentalists blocked the use of an environmentally impeccable, on-site treatment plant that would have helped recharge the aquifer and would have provided new freshwater habitat, because such a system would have obviated one of the most effective limits to coastal development: sewer capacity. Faced with stiff fines for existing inadequacies, local sewer districts eventually provided increased capacity that accommodated the development conventionally. Meanwhile, the local school district filed suit, seeking an assessment on the development of $20 per square foot, arguing that it was bringing new students into the district. Ultimately, the developer was able to demonstrate that the students were already there; they were just living in substandard housing. Through all the challenges, the developer, Mid- Peninsula Housing Coalition, remained steadfast and, working with David Baker FAIA & Associates, brought a successful project to fruition. Baker combines four unit types in numerous duplex and fourplex configurations to squeeze considerable variety out of what is necessarily a repetitive scheme. Each unit has its own front porch and back yard, and the complex is formed around a series of community gardens, citrus groves, and tot lots. Community facilities, including laundry, day-care, computer lab, post office, and community room and kitchen, surround a central zocalo, or plaza, five-minute’s walk from the furthest dwelling. A soccer field, basketball court and inline skating court anchor the end of the development nearest Highway 1. Mid-Peninsula Housing does not just build and manage buildings. With the help of Cabrillo Adult Education and the College of San Mateo, they are offering on-site English and computer courses. Sor Juana Inez, a counseling service for Latina women, has on-site programs, as does the Corporation for Therapeutic Convivials, which brings the village men together around the community gardens. Programs for children include Coast Side Head Start, which is headquartered at Moonridge, and a Summer Enrichment Program. Moonridge Village has won not only an AIACC Merit Award, but also a Tax Credit Excellence Award from the Affordable Housing Tax Credit Coalition. Fran Wagstaff, Executive Director of MPHC, says that these awards lend credibility to their effort to demonstrate comparability with market rate quality—to produce housing that is not (as is too often considered appropriate) merely “good enough for those people.” What is she proudest of? “It’s wonderful for children.” __________ Eleventh Avenue Townhomes Escondido Studio E Architects, San Diego Merit Award for Affordable Housing Photos by Jim Brady Author Buzz Yudell, FAIA, is Adjunct Professor in the School of the Arts and Architecture at UCLA, a partner in the firm of Moore, Ruble, Yudell in Santa Monica, and a member of the arcCA editorial board. __________ Eric Naslund, AIA, and John Sheehan speak of their work with quiet intensity and clarity of purpose. They stress their endeavor to provide “good housing for people of modest means,” and they think of housing as an “armature for peoples lives,” one that can help the disadvantaged to “get back on course or get a leg up.” Housing is about “serving a bigger purpose and not just net worth.” As strong as their social commitment are their energy and talent in crafting places of dignity and great design integrity. For them, this is a thoughtful process of understanding the place and working from fundamental principles of climate, materials, and social interaction. Their design exploration is based on “mining the rituals and phenomena of everyday life and finding the poetry in it.” The award-wining Eleventh Avenue Townhomes represents their fifth housing project in Escondido and their third affordable project in its neighborhood. Sixteen two-story rental town- homes are organized along mews in a compact infill site. The narrow, 100-foot frontage on Eleventh Avenue provides the connection between the project and its neighbor- hood. The tree-lined entry lane serves pedestrian and auto access and encourages informal socializing. A plaza is created midway along this path where a meeting hall, inspired by barn construction, fronts a landscaped courtyard and an informal lawn with children’s play areas. At the far end of the three hundred foot long lot is an additional common area with overflow parking and allotment gardens for citrus and vegetables. The site planning is inspired by such precedents as Southern California bungalow courtyards and London mews. The designers have skillfully deployed the density of 23 dwelling units per acre to achieve an environment that is rich enough to inspire a sense of community yet breathes enough to allow for individual pride and identity. At the core of this success is their understanding and fluency in creating a fine- grained hierarchy of spaces from the communal to the private. Toward this end they have made every element count. While the plans are straightforward and quite flexible, expressive elements skillfully function in multiple ways. Cantilevered canopies are both sunshades and identifiers. Garden walls establish both front porches and back yards. Sustainability is enhanced by the most basic planning decisions. Spaces are configured to allow for cross-ventilation. Setbacks and sun-shades are carefully composed, and landscaped living spaces are integral to the plan. Tight budgeting is handled by early planning, prioritizing, and direct expression of materials rather than by successive rounds of value engineering. Tough materials are selected for their durability and expressive potential. The initial planning considers such economies as short spans and clear, repetitive geometries. The architects are interested and inspired by everyday buildings like barns and factories. The integrity and durability of this esthetic yields buildings strong enough to allow people to inhabit and modify their environments without compromising the architecture. Naslund notes that their housing “doesn’t require that geraniums be specified six inches on center,” but that varied planting and furnishings add richness to the community. At the same time, the architects and their clients focused in detail on designing for every need: from the back-yard barbecue and place for briquette storage to the single car garages, which can be used for home-based work. Ironically, the collaboration with a non-profit housing organization provided more design freedom than market housing. The budget was comparable to market rate projects, but because the client, SER/Jobs for Progress, will own the project indefinitely, there was more concern about durability. This allowed for a tougher but richer palette than market projects: varied color CMU walls, exterior concrete clapboards, expressed trusses in the community building. Sheehan notes that this long-term and focused commitment avoids the need to design a project that is “all things to all people—a vanilla design.” Instead, the team could work from a detailed understanding of the users’ needs to design a project that “fits like a hand in glove.” One measure of a successful fit is the positive reception by the inhabitants. To cultivate pride of place, they organized a competition to rename the project. Tenants and local school children participated and the Eleventh Avenue Townhomes were rechristened Emerald Gardens: a sign of pride and hope. A more ironic indicator of the project’s success is the apparent concern of some for-profit developers who feel that the Studio E affordable housing has been “raising the bar” in ways that may reflect negatively on the quality of their own projects. Studio E Architects exhibit an all too rare set of commitments and skills. They have shown a dedication to place, community, and craft and translated this dedication into eloquent projects that enhance the lives of the inhabitants. They have chosen to work from fundamental principles, eschewing the seduction of elaborate form-making. Their work reminds us that the social values of architecture can be realized while satisfying the soul with the poetics of place. __________]]>

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Havens House: Forgotten Masterpiece of California Modernism

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

arcCA 01.1, “Awarding Honor.”] Author John Loomis, AIA, is Chair of the Department of Architecture at CCAC and an executive editor of Design Book Review. He is the author of The Architecture of Revolution: Cuba’s Forgotten Art Schools (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1998) and of the forthcoming A House for Weston Havens by Harwell Hamilton Harris. __________ High in the hills above Berkeley sits a forgotten masterpiece of California modern architecture, the Weston Havens House of 1941 by Harwell Hamilton Harris. Its presence can barely be detected. It merges with the landscape, nestled in the treetops against a steeply inclined slope, around which winds Panoramic Way. At one time it was a highly acclaimed example of California modern architecture. In fact, in 1957, to commemorate the centennial of the AIA, Architectural Record conducted a survey of fifty important architects and scholars and produced a list of the one hundred most significant works of architecture in the United States. Among them were fourteen houses. Harris’s Havens house tied for ninth place with Richard Neutra’s Lovell Health House. One juror compared the Havens House in significance to Wright’s Falling Water for its original and dramatic response to site. Yet, while Falling Water and the Lovell House have assumed prominent places in the canon of modern architecture, the Weston Havens House has not. Its reputation has receded into history much in the way its architecture has receded into the landscape. Architecture today is largely preoccupied with form, with the creation of the smartly designed object. For Harris, however, the design of the Havens House was not about formal manipulation, but instead about a spatial response to site and path. The visitor engages this architecture experientially, and a memorable experience it is. The seven-foot high redwood wall, now covered with Boston ivy, and the simple, carved volume of the two-car garage present an understated, almost anonymous façade to the street, obscuring any direct view of the house. The entrance, a portion of the fence at a right angle to the street, is easily missed. This entry opens up to a path perpendicular to the street that is actually a covered bridge leading to the house. The high, inclined sides of this bridge reveal only the sky and block the view below, leaving the visitor temporarily disoriented. The axis of the bridge continues through the front door under a low ceiling and ends in a freestanding wall. If the visitor turns to the right or left or goes down the stair, the more intimate spaces of the kitchen and bedrooms are found, as well as the sunken court, hidden from view by the inclined sides of the bridge. To proceed along the axis, the visitor must circumvent the freestanding wall, beyond which the ceiling lifts upward, and a dramatic, 180- degree panorama of the San Francisco Bay emerges. The viewer then stands directly on axis with the distant Golden Gate Bridge, the final visual destination of a masterful architectural promenade. The formal moves that shape this experience are not immediately perceived. The house consists of two volumes, separated by a court and linked by a bridge. One volume, with the maid’s apartment and the garage, is anchored to the upper part of the slope along the street. The other volume thrusts out from the slope, into the view. This second volume is comprised of three inverted trusses, stacked vertically, that open outward to the view. These vertically stacked roof/ceiling assemblies respond both to form and function. The inclined ceiling formed by the truss directs the space of the room toward the view. Meanwhile, the interiors of the truss structure serve as plenums for the radiant heating. In addition, the upper truss contains hidden clerestory windows that filter direct morning light and indirect afternoon light into the main room. The section is the key to this design. This sectionally driven scheme represents an interesting departure from Harris’s previous work. Harris’s career was still in its formative stages. He had worked under Neutra’s tutelage from 1929 to 1932. Nevertheless, the predominant influence on his work was Frank Lloyd Wright, tempered by an intuitive affinity for California’s Arts and Crafts movement, with occasional references to Neutra. The Depression provided a few opportunities for Harris to test his talent. Despite the economic deprivations, he produced a respectable body of residential work, including the Pauline Lowe House (Altadena, 1934), the Fellowship Park House (Los Angeles, 1935), the Helene Kershner House (Los Angeles, 1935), the De Steiguer House (Pasadena, 1936), the Greta Ganstedt House (Hollywood, 1938), and the Pumphrey House (Santa Monica, 1939). Harris was the master of the well-solved plan, and despite the individual differences among the work of this period, Harris’s houses, even those on slopes, are predominantly conceived in plan. The John Entenza House (Santa Monica, 1937), for example, thrusts out boldly into Santa Monica Canyon, but is essentially a one-story scheme. The Lee Blair House (Los Angeles, 1939), completed the year Harris began to design the Havens House, shows more volumetric development as a scheme of three interlocking trays stepping down the hillside. Yet none of the sloped sites previously encountered by Harris were as physically challenging or dramatic as the Panoramic Way site. Here, Harris was forced to abandon his plan-driven repertoire for a section strategy that also forced him to leave behind the residual influences of Wright and Neutra. The result was his most original work of architecture. The larger site of Panoramic Hill may also have inspired the path that takes one into and through the house. The developer of the first Panoramic Hill residences, Warren Cheny, had commissioned landscape architect Henry Atkins in 1909 to design a path named Orchard Lane to connect the shingled houses of the early development. Orchard Lane is really a series of stairs that acts as a vertical warp to the switchback weave of Panoramic Way. The stairs alternately are enveloped within deeply shaded, leafy bowers and emerge into the light as they intersect the road. Harris no doubt trudged up this steep and dramatic climb many times as he became acquainted with the site. Could it be that the path up the hill, with its compression and release, its transitions from shade to light, inspired the path through the house? Dramatic site conditions were one reason for the uniqueness of the Havens House within Harris’s career; another was his unique relationship with his client, John Weston Havens, Jr., who happily inhabits the house to this day. Harris and Havens had much in common. Born just four months apart, both were descendants of California pioneer stock. They shared the heritage of an Anglo-American California that valued individualism and pragmatism, a California viewed as a place apart, distinct from the rest of the country. During their youth, California retained an evident, if nostalgic, memory of its pioneer past. For these two men, this memory played a strong role in the formation of their identities. At the same time, they were both intellectually committed to a vision of modernism that was distinctly Californian. Their shared heritage and shared values created a bond that became a lifelong friendship. As a result of this friendship, Havens’s relationship with Harris was one of an engaged and critically involved client. In fact, Havens rejected Harris’s first scheme, an unremarkable, plan-driven proposal that stepped down the slope with none of the sectional brilliance of the final project. For Havens, the scheme occupied too much space and seemed too extravagant. He compelled Harris to completely rethink the design. The result is the undisputed highpoint of Harris’s career and a masterpiece of California modernism. The Havens House celebrates the experiential and the tactile over the formal. It represents a unique moment of cultural optimism when California sought to develop a distinct modernist vision. Moreover, the Havens House represents a creative synergy between a talented architect and an intelligent client that inspired the architect to transcend his own creative boundaries. __________ Photos by Man Ray, © 2001 Man Ray Trust/Artists Rights Society (ARS), NY/ADAGP, Paris; drawing, unattributed, California Arts and Architecture, March 1940. __________]]>

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Comparing Categories

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

arcCA 01.1, “Awarding Honor.”] ___________ Do the categories we use to organize our thoughts merely reflect our values, or do they shape them? Both, perhaps. Just for fun, here are the categories established by 1) an exhibition; 2) an awards program; 3) a theory anthology; and 4) an accrediting board. 1) from At the End of the Century: 100 Years of Architecture Grand Plans at the Turn of the Century Colonialism in the Early Twentieth Century Manifestos for a New World Visions of a New Order Modern Learning and Living at the Bauhaus The Rational Kitchen Minimum Versus Maximum Houses The Garden City and the New Town “World Of Tomorrow”: the Future of Transportation, the Politics of Monumentality Devastation and Reconstruction Creation of New Capitals Modernism at Mid-Century The Architecture of Ecology Structural Expressionism The Rise of Theory The Edge of Utopia Culture of Spectacle Mass-Produced Housing After World War II The House As an Aesthetic Laboratory The Skyscraper 2) from the 2000 AIACC Awards Program Affordable Housing Historic Preservation Design Firm Outstanding Individual Achievement (Maybeck) Allied Professions Community Housing Assistance Community Planning and Design Corporate Architect Excellence in Education Research and Technology Public Service Nature in the Built Environment (Nathaniel A. Owings) Lifetime Achievement 3) from Kate Nesbitt’s Theorizing a New Agenda: an Anthology of Architectural Theory, 1965-1995 (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1996) Phenomenology Aesthetic of the Sublime Linguistic Theory Marxism Feminism History and Historicism Meaning Place Urban Theory Political and Ethical Agendas The Body Typology The School of Venice Nature and Site Critical Regionalism Tectonic Expression 4) from the National Architectural Accrediting Board’s 1998 Conditions and Procedures for Professional Degree Programs in Architecture Verbal and Writing Skills Graphic Skills Research Skills Critical Thinking Skills Fundamental Design Skills Collaborative Skills Human Behavior Human Diversity Use of Precedents Western Traditions Non-Western Traditions National and Regional Traditions Environmental Conservation Accessibility Site Conditions Formal Ordering Systems Structural Systems Environmental Systems Life-Safety Systems Building Envelope Systems Building Service Systems Building Systems Integration Legal Responsibilities Building Code Compliance Building Materials and Assemblies Building Economics and Cost Control Detailed Design Development Technical Documentation Comprehensive Design Program Preparation The Legal Context of Architecture Practice Practice Organization and Management Contracts and Documentation Professional Internship Architects’ Leadership Roles The Context of Architecture Ethics and Professional Judgment __________]]>

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The Ultimate Design Award? Musing on "At the End of the Century: One Hundred Years of Architecture"

ARCCA Archives, Specialist|

arcCA 01.1, “Awarding Honor.”] Author Camille Kirk is the principal of Context Research & Mapping, a consulting firm that provides research, analysis, and strategic planning to clients working with the built environment. Ms. Kirk would like to thank Elizabeth A. T. Smith for the generous amount of time she devoted to a telephone interview, as well as for the very pleasurable nature of that conversation. Additionally, she owes Isabelle Duvivier, Anne Zimmerman, and Tim Culvahouse a debt of gratitude for their thoughtful discussions with the author throughout the writing of this article. __________ Musing On “At the End of the Century: One Hundred Years of Architecture” The Museum of Contemporary Art, Geffen Contemporary April 16 through September 24, 2000 “One Hundred Years of Architecture” was a colossal show, as ambitious, provocative and fragmented as the century it explored. A wealth of detailed material documenting our built and unbuilt 20th century, with comparatively little context provided, the exhibit was as much about our end-of-century state of mind as about a century of built environment. Design awards, like other exercises in popular artistic judgment such as the Oscars, have become a staple of our culture. These awards necessarily reflect the judgments of a particular moment in time, and, accordingly, shifts in cultural taste, academic theory, and political importance affect award decisions. Our awareness of such influences should not render awards suspect or meaningless; rather, the awards offer us a device by which we can better understand ourselves and our times. Perhaps this observation sheds light on “At the End of the Century: One Hundred Years of Architecture.” The title of the show suggests that it was not intended to be an objective survey of the century, but rather an end-of-century reflection. In some sense, the show was the ultimate design award for the architect practicing in the 20th century; some “made the cut” and some were marginalized. How and why were the choices of inclusion and exclusion made? What do these choices tell us about our end-of-century viewpoint? Structuring An Exhibition  A tour de force of interpretive assemblage by its co-curators, Richard Koshalek and Elizabeth A. T. Smith, the show was five years in the making and traveled for two years. The way in which the show was conceived, curated, and exhibited outlines con- temporary scholarly understanding of the last 100 years. Organized around thematic groupings, the show started by presenting the grand city planning visions that characterize the dawning of the 20th century, then proceeded to lead the viewer through a chronology of the century. In an interview, Smith described the creative process behind Koshalek’s idea to do a survey of 20th century architecture. In order to make sense of the vast array of possibilities, Koshalek and Smith first shaped a conceptual framework with some basic themes and identified various projects to represent those concepts. They then sought an advisory team of scholars to assist them in refining the themes and identifying appropriate examples of work to represent the thematic elements of the show. The team’s debate and conflict shaped both the curatorial process and the resulting show. For instance, there was intense argument over whether the show should look at the built environment as a whole, or specific buildings as moments of High Architecture. Ultimately, the show does both, highlighting an important tension of the 20th century. The show was exhibited in Tokyo, Mexico City, Cologne, Chicago, and Los Angeles. Each mounting differed to some degree from the others in material presented, although the basic themes of the show more or less adhered throughout. There was also a different spatial layout at each of the venues. The curating team built on each show, learning lessons from the previous one, trying new things and creating regionally appropriate layouts. For instance, the Chicago show culminated with the skyscraper, whereas the Los Angeles show used the skyscraper as a pivot. As can happen in traveling exhibits, not all of the lending institutions would allow their materials to travel for the full two years. Thus, part of the staging involved complex determinations of what materials would be exhibited at which of the five venues. To compensate for this constraint, the curators employed a strategy of bringing in regional architects and architecture specific to each venue. The curatorial team used the artifact substitutions as opportunities to showcase regional emphases, to lend a sense of interpretive comprehension for the layperson, and to give greater exposure to lesser- known architects and projects, such as with Latin American architecture in Mexico City. At the Geffen, Los Angeles architects were heavily represented in the end of the century sections of the show, again in keeping with curatorial strategy to exhibit regional architects, as well as to showcase developments in architecture undertaken during the groundbreaking post World War II period in Los Angeles. But what about the architects who were missing or were not strongly represented in the show? As one person put it: “Were the Postmodernists just too passé?” And, it is precisely these sorts of questions about “missing” buildings and architects that reveal to us what we currently consider lasting achievements versus what we feel may prove ephemeral. Interpretations of the 20th Century Tectonic Impulse Although, as Smith acknowledges, depth is lost in this sort of survey show, breadth is gained. The show never actually expresses any sort of metanarrative about the 20th century built environment. (It is left to the viewer to construct such a tale.) Smith and Koshalek did not want to tell just one story of the century. For one thing, such an effort would have defied a core lesson of the late 20th century, when crafting grandiose explanative narratives came to be seen in the same light as building grandiose projects —as examples of tectonic hubris. Nevertheless, the show seems to have captured an underlying end-of-century nostalgia for earlier Big Architecture, surefooted proposals, and a public faith in the importance of architecture. The immense power of architecture to shape people’s daily lives and experience of their world was felt in such sections as mass-produced housing, transportation, city planning, and the rational kitchen. Reflexively, political, economic, and social power has made architecture in its image: the sections on monumentality, new capital city building, skyscrapers, and entertainment complexes demonstrated how architecture serves power. From an end-of-century perspective, the megalomaniac side of architecture is never far submerged, and it broke loose many times throughout the 20th century. The show also highlighted enduring tensions of the 20th century through juxtaposition of thematic sections. Two stand out. The first is one of the 20th century’s defining contradictions: the increasingly developed sense of the self coupled with the submersion of the individual in mass-produced solutions. This contradiction is reified in residential architecture. Mass housing seems on the face of things to deny individuality, yet the houses of Levittown or Carquinez Heights, placed on small plots of land and then customized over the years by their owners, also seem to offer certain inventive possibilities for the individual. In contrast, some highly experimental single-family houses seem to allow no room for their occupants’ modifying expressions of individuality. The juxtaposition of mass housing solutions and highly refined residential experiments in the exhibit serves to highlight this complex tension that continues to fascinate us. A second abiding tension is that between concepts of “space” and “place.” The show underscored the dialectic in the 20th century between space-based design solutions and place-based design solutions. Ranging from the predominantly space-based ordering schemes of transportation and urban planning systems that dominated much of 20th century architecture, to primarily place-based solutions found in some of the residential and ecologically site-sensitive architecture, the show demonstrates that the dialectic between the solutions is constant. As we enter the new millennium, we still struggle to find synthesis between these two solutions, and the exhibit reflected that enduring interest. __________]]>

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