Renegade Posting

Hey folks - I have enjoyed following your SRP exploits via the interweb, though most of the science projects are a tad over my head. I just wanted to post here to send out my warmest congratulations to you all on the college admissions front. You are a stellar group and it was a privilege to share some class time with you last year. Remember, no matter where you end up in school next year, the most important thing is always to ask yourself: "What would Jackson do?"

A Thumbprint on Nicole's Forehead

To track down the pioneers of simplicity, go past 221b Baker Street and into the Knoll showroom. The architects Mies van der Rohe, Eero Saarinen, Le Corbusier and the Bauhaus boys place their slender fingers on every inch of design. Like the best of those cosmopolitan mobs, the men effortlessly leave no signs of struggle. What seems like an elementary idea was really a careful dissection of the mid-century. Take away the arms and legs. Leave it open. Strip it to style.

Last Monday, I visited a modernist showroom and, Knoll and behold, the evidence of invention still exists today. Needless to say I remain impressed. In both furniture and buildings, the men peeled layers to the bones claiming that people do not need more extremities to live comfortably. It's the biology of sociology. Now I'm just rhyming.

Translating it all to affordable, sustainable design is a different story - a different parable altogether. Looking at others' residences and the desert are helpful ways of drawing from and for the environment. I recently visited 3 houses that take their own tacks on the matter. First was Stu's, a retired NYU professor whose reasonable preference of New York over Arizona reflected in his living area. Rooms were close together, but not uncomfortable. The bathroom was appealing; the solarium not so much. Lessons were learned. Second was Cindy's, the buyer of a custom designed house for Mormons who then tailored it for herself and her husband. By knocking down walls and introducing glass (and overall fanciness), they created a more luxurious space for themselves. Third was my advisor James Abell's, who purposely left the house exterior unadorned then put an 18-foot tall living room inside and 3 courtyards around the home. There is also more natural lighting than the others and a lovely draft for cross-ventilation. After the neighborhood tour, I have better ideas of integrating space. Huzzah, back to the drawing board.

Lastly, I visited Arid Zone Trees, a wholesale desert plant nursery in Queen near Mesa. They have a large array of mesquites, agaves, mexican fence posts, palo verdes, cacti and more, and the nursery is constantly crossbreeding and selling new species. Growers especially favor naturally occurring thornless species. Besides a fresh appreciation for our sandy flora, I came away with notions on hardscape and outdoor spaces, designed by the family. There were low walls calculated for human seating and concrete blocks imprinted with leaf patterns. The entrance to the office also had a sidewalk that subtly narrowed towards the door and a winding fence that looked like halves of terra cotta pots. Landscaping for offices and residences is overlooked, but when done well, it can be a sound release.

At least that's what my books and senses say. Here's to the organic spin.

Comfy in Concrete

Confession: I thought I posted my last entry Saturday night, but... apparently not. I have (re)posted it, so "Martha the Builder" is public under the date Friday, February 25. Seems like these Blogger shoes don't fit me yet, but I'll grow into them. Moving on.

If you're wearing a Wildcat shirt now, feel free to sit down and skip to the next paragraph. Having been raised in Tucson, I know better than to say "Scottsdale" and "ASU" aloud. That kind of language earns dirty looks and mutters under the breath. After my experiences with this project, however, I will use both words in my sentences. And smile. At the same time. My parents did the best they can, but at some point, I had to break the rules.

ASU has more than blondes and inferior sports teams; it has architecture. I heard of the concrete, but I didn't realize there was a method to the madness. There's a different design influence on every corner, like Le Corbusier with his exposed concrete in the form of Brutalism and Frank Lloyd Wright with his geometry in his own mode of Modernism. My mentor also is part of the campus through his courtyards, which he unashamedly reminds me of whenever we visit. They're well-designed outdoor spaces, so why not? On Monday then, he and I took a tour of Gammage Auditorium, which is arguably Tempe's most famous building.

Though it's not the best picture, it is the best view of why it is beloved. The "arms," once used as walkways into the theatre, act like a banner that welcomes visitors to Tempe. The structure reminds citizens of the legacy that the town has through the college and its connections. It has epically open spaces which add to the acoustics and public impression. Still, there are many misconceptions to the structure, and the most notable one is that it is a Frank Lloyd Wright building. The building was based off a few sketches for a cancelled project in Baghdad, and when Mr. Wright signed off to do the project at ASU, he shortly died after. His son-in-law then headed the process and with the help of Taliesin West, manifested the idea. Mr. Wright wasn't even a licensed architect in Arizona! All credit and no license; so lives the legend.

To add to the intrigue of the forbidden city, everyone I have met so far has been endearing and/or thought-provoking in their own ways. The Allens, my host family, are incredibly hospitable and lovely. I stay in their pool house which holds generous personal space, but I always eat dinner with them and hang out in the main house. They have amusing conversations, serve delicious food, and they also let me play their Steinway piano, a fantastic baby grand. They also have a small mission to convert me into a Phoenix Suns fan and a Justin Bieber fan... we'll see how that goes.

If anything, this project has opened my mind to the everything that t I don't know. In the office, I work with only one person for six hours a day. He is my advisor, and I couldn't ask for a better one. Mr. Abell tells me about what materials are efficient, what I will and will not learn in architecture school and more. Like many intelligent people, he knows a little about a lot, and a lot about the little that he adores. In between, we have had spurred conversations about Martin Luther King, mid-twentieth century art, Josef Albers, the Enlightenment, the libertarian party, sociology etc. It seems that he and his friends that I have met, notably Dave Scheatzle (engineer) and Harold Fearon (businessman) are well-rounded that way. Mr. Abell makes many cultural and historical references, but for the most part, I can keep up. Thanks Basis. Thanks Internet.

Scottsdale and Tempe keeps surprising me, and happily, it still makes me laugh. Here is one last Frank Lloyd Wright designed spire that I visited:

And do you know where this was?

A shopping center.

A shopping center.

Oh Scottsdale,

Nicole

Martha the Builder

If the broad sides of your house face east and west, your energy bill is double than it should be. Last Wednesday, my mentor Mr. Abell and I had lunch at ASU with retired mechanical engineer Dave Scheatzle (pronounced like that place with the funny name and the serious sandwich). Over empanadas and soup, we were debating the effectiveness of passive and active solar energy, earth integration, cardinal directions and seasonal solar angles on buildings. Since the final product of my project will be "the most ecologically friendly, appropriate to desert conditions, aesthetically pleasing and financially attainable house for Tucson" (hopefully), this talk was a mammoth step towards that.

One focus in sustainable architecture is this: pay attention to the surroundings. Nothing matters more for human comfort here than temperature control. One natural way is a herald to the solstices: build or buy a house in Tucson with the broad sides facing NW and SE on a 28 degree lateral slant. The sunrise and set "move" positions due to the earth's natural rotation and revolution around the sun. Around this angle then, like Phoenix's Wyndham Hotel, the house receives the best of the winter morning and the minimum of the summer afternoon. It's cheap. It's simple. But of course... if you want to go expensive and complicated (ahem engineers) you can try this. Go natural or go mechanical. Build kangaroo robots while you're at it.

With the discussed ecological concepts, I started my design process this week. What I drew again from Vitruvius was that architecture is a polygamous marriage between structure, aesthetics, and finance. For my project, I am putting emphasis on the sustainability and attainability, which stresses my ability to put in some dreamability. Forget the waterfall off the roof. The living room petting zoo? Return the animals. I sigh out loud as I write this.

Despite these setbacks, I have set up a program, which means the plan for what the house will be and what the client wants. I am planning for low energy materials and low energy Right now, I am drawing bubble diagrams. It is part of vernacular building, meaning it shows logical relationships of how rooms are placed together e.g. the bedroom is far from the kitchen to minimize noise.

I know it doesn't look much, but I did over 10 of these, because one, I was trying to do a this "solar feng shui" and two, I am regrettably becoming more of a perfectionist. It's like a cross between Bob the Builder and Martha Stewart. I will soon draw some floor plans with measurements and sections, which are 2D vertical slices that often reveal the interior of a building. In preparation, I've been measuring wall spans and rooms around my house for perspective. I can't find a ruler, so I've been using a 6-in one with a Jesus fish and a cross.

I like spending my time this way.

Until the walls come down,

Nicole

P.S. I thought I posted this last Saturday night...huh.