Sketches

Chair Compare (Blog 3 B)

In the airport a set of interesting chairs caught my eye. They reminded me of the Knowlton chairs and the assignment we had done before the trip. I analyzed these chairs in a similar manner so I could compare with the Swan Chair. Both if these chairs have complex curves which helped make them more pleasing, and the curves helped make them more ergonomically better. But they did this in different ways. The Swan Chair used symmetry and had a void in between the seat and back to add interest. Then the airport chairs used asymmetry and have a large bulbous shape for complexity. This also helped give the chair a heavy and more permanent presence. I think these could both work in the Knowlton Library, but I don’t think the Swan Chair could go in the airport. The Swan Chair lacks the heavy presence to go in the airport. It would look out of place and fail to be a focal point. But personally I like the design of the Swan Chair better and I think it is better suited to be a seat to relax in.

Swan Chair Side Elevation

Swan Chair Section

Airport Chair Image

Airport Chair Diagrams

Architecture Made Human: A Pablo Neruda House Analysis

Diagrammatic sketch showing how La Sebastiana is divided by floors and La Chascona is divided by volumes.

Image showing the vibrant color and elegant water feature that help capture the essence of Neruda’s vibrant home

Image showing the connection of space through exterior circulation and landscape.

In both visits, I was completely enveloped into the world of Pablo Neruda but couldn’t quite pinpoint why. I had been on similar tours before, so it wasn’t just the fact that there were so many personal artifacts. Even the architecture itself was not something I had taken many notes on. The combination of the two, though, resulted in something that felt specially magnificent and heartfelt.

Our visit to Neruda’s La Sebastiana spurred a curiosity about the relationship between interior decoration and architecture. Is the interior of a building truly what defines its character, especially with something as intimate and personal as a home? This concept certainly is not one that would be endorsed at Knowlton. It has always seemed to me that if decor is the primary essence of a building, then the architecture itself is lacking in one way or another.

Truth be told, I initially thought that the exuberant interior completely overwhelmed other facets of the space. The more I thought about it, though, I realized that the interior is what makes the building feel alive. After all, Neruda lived in the space. The pieces there weren’t just any other decor- they were vibrant and tasteful. Nothing was there for the sake of filing the space, and everything had a meaning or story behind it. It was amazing how the memories behind each piece still could be felt in the room.

Upon visiting Neruda’s Santiago home, La Chascona, I was not surprised to see that the character of the building was still there. The design of the space, though, seemed so much different. As opposed to one five-story building on a hill, this home was composed of three separate volumes with about two or three stories each. While I would expect this separation to make the cohesiveness and warmth of the building to be challenged, especially since it was right along the edge of a busy public Santiago street, that was not the case at all. The vegetation between the three pieces was the connecting tissue that enveloped and shielded them. It was the glue, or the fabric, that unified the house and made it whole. Now it was not just the interior decor, but the landscape that helped define the home. Neruda’s personality was strong, and his homes convey that in a multitude of ways.

It is said that the architect of La Chascona originally oriented the home so it could strategically face the sun, but when Neruda saw the plans, he flipped them around completely and said he wanted it built that way to face the mountains instead. That, to me, captures the essence of Pablo Neruda and his homes. It roots down to feelings, thoughts, and emotions. It may not be what we learn about in architecture school, but it is something I want to carry with me throughout my studies. Architecture is, above all, for the people. It should read as such. A house should become a home.

European Feel in a South American City

One of the first and strongest observations I got from Valparaíso was its resemblance to small European towns. Last year, my sister studied abroad in a small French town a few hours outside of Paris, and my parents and I got the chance to visit her in the summer. I had been to France earlier in 2015, starting in Paris and working our way down and around for close to a month. Long story short, I’ve had a lot of exposure to small village architecture. Quaint facades, narrow cobblestone roads, worn-down materials, the whole Shabang.

What I found interesting, then, was that I was taken right back to my time in France while walking around the streets of Valparaíso, despite being on an entirely different continent. Of course, there were some major differences, namely the brightly colored buildings, the graffiti, and the sheer size of Valparaíso (although when walking its streets, it’s easy to forget you’re in such a large city). However, I found the similarities to greatly outweigh the differences. While you’re in both places, the age of the towns and the amount of history that surpassed in it is clear. Extremely quaint, culture-rich, old architecture, and very cute. The walls and streets are heavily worn, most the buildings themselves are originals, and if they were in fact renovated, usually only the interiors were updated to keep the its exterior charm.

One thing I was not expecting in Valparaiso was its buildings to be so worn down. At first I took this as a lack of effort by its residents to keep it up, but later I decided that although very inhabited throughout the years, this old-timey feel was what gave the city much of its charm.

Overall, I was blown away by Valpariso. I didn’t think I’d find a place so European looking in South America, but this turned out to be an incredible surprise. I feel lucky to have been able to travel to two places that are so different but still find incredible similarities, and I’m excited to be able to compare Chile to the places I travel to in the future.

View of street in Valparaíso

View of street in a small French town

French building art

Valparaíso building art

Quick sketch of street in Valparaíso

Chile: A Country of Many Identities

By spending all of our time in and around Chile’s major cities Santiago and Valparaíso, we had not gotten to see much of the natural beauty. On Friday, our free day, a group and I traveled to Maipo Valley and to the hot springs; it was unlike anything I’ve experienced before. While it was a fun day, we learned much about the Chilean culture outside of the major cities.

Our tour guide explained to us that the Maipo Valley area is experiencing an issue with the hydraulic drilling that is occurring. It pollutes their natural streams and disrupts the ecosystem. However, they don’t have many other options for income. Their income source used to be mining until it was shut down due to the danger regarding drilling and earthquakes. Now, the little Chilean towns rely on tourism. 

I found this particularly interesting that tourism is the main source of income in the smaller towns. They don’t look like typical tourist traps that one would see in major tourist destinations in America. For our tour, we stopped at the same quaint restaurant for breakfast and a nice little tapas dinner. While I was expecting the tour to be great, it blew away my expectations. 

Along with the economic aspects, we learned about the environment and the vegetation’s that can only grow in Maipo Valley due to the specific climate and altitude. We learned about the three types of trees that grow there— soap bark tree, the Baldo/doctor tree, and a litre tree that causes allergic reactions. The cacti there also only grows 900 km above sea level and can be surrounded by snow. 

With our tour, we hiked a 18,000 foot volcano and went in seven hot springs, with the hottest one being 60° celsius, or 140° Fahrenheit. It was two kilometer hike up and another two kilometer hike back down. While it was a long day, it was an experience that I will never regret or forget.

The heart of Maipo Valley, showing off it’s amazing views in the mountains and natural streams.

My sketch of my favorite place we saw in Maipo Valley.

One of the natural springs on our tour.

A City and the Sky

View of the Andes from the Benedictine Monastery Lookout

 

Sketch of the City and it’s Mountains

At this view, I was amazed at how the buildings met the mountains. The two stood apart but were understood together. Through this sketch, I aimed to capture how the two connected to one another. I imagined that the mountains were hollow on their underside, and the buildings clipped onto the end of the mountains shell. That way, the buildings do not creep onto the mountains at all, but stand at their periphery, dictated by the location and sprawl of the mountains. It is not as if the mountains are more important than the buildings, they are just much larger and the buildings must respect their space. Similarly, the mountains create valleys to respect the cities space. 

I am planning to color the sketch in with green and blue alcohol markers, so that the green foreground and blue sky will be colored and mountains and city will not. I believe the color will enhance the emphasis upon the relationship between mountain and city.

View of my sketch and the view

Night at Pre-Columbian Musuem

The dark stairs contrasts the shining light of the windows and the glass door.

My interest in the Pre-Columbian Museum was the design of the stairs, more specifically its context to the rest of the space. I feel as if the represent what the Knowlton stairs represent which are these obaque objects that make a way through an open space. We get to see that through Knowlton, but in the Pre-Columbian Museum it still makes a presence of these black walls that either takes you up to another dark space or a more brighter space. This concept is also shown as one would progress through a space filled with light into the night.

The panoramic image is what is being sketched above, as you can see the differences on each side in terms of lighting and a hint of the artwork on the second window from the left.

A closer look at what is seen through the window, a gradient of pink and purple.

So this transition is seen through plan and section, but what I noticed about where I was sketching was the placement of the art. In between the pitch black, heavy ramp and the light coming from glass of the windows and door was the colorful sheets of pink and purple that were floating, which was framed by one of the window.

The sculptural black stairs that wrapped with the black rails seen as a sculpture that constrasts from the well-lit room.

As I was sketching this scene, people were passing by and I observed their movement as they first enter the museum. I then understood the ramp as more of a calling into another space. Since the entry into this museum is a well-lit, double height, white walls, door to the outside courtyard that is first seen in front of you, then you turn to the left and then suddenly it’s this dark, black, huge stairs that, for me personally, seen as a part of the museum like a sculpture. Most of the time the person would double look as if they are unsure about what would happen next as they begin to move foreword into the “night”.

Nunca Mas

A site that I was looking forward to visiting on this trip was the Museum of Memory. I had done a lot of research on this topic in AP Spanish in high school and the subject weighed heavily on me. While visiting the museum, I couldn’t help but notice there were parallels between it and our 9/11 memorial in New York City.

First of all, they both use enormous scale gallery walls that can be seen from almost any part of the museum. The Museum of Memory has the enormous wall filled with many picture frames of victims of the attacks and the 9/11 memorial in New York has varying shades of blue tiles to represent what color most people described the color of the sky was on 9/11/01.

New York City 9/11 memorial tile wall

My sketch of the wall of picture frames in the Museum of Memory

I think that this large scale is used to make a great impact on whoever is entering the museum and to make them realize just how many lives each specific event has effected.

Another similarity between the two museums is the use of water. I think that the water in both museums represent the absence of those who were taken from their loved ones on these days.

Museum of Memory

Reflecting pools at 9/11 memorial in NYC

 

Copper Wall Openings

Centro Cultural Gabriela Mistral’s copper surface was very interesting to me. The first sketch is showing my analysis of the panels which is being used to create the surface. I observed two types of panels. One from least to middle-level opening. The other one is from middle-level opening to a max level of openings. The surface is created by the combination of these two types of the panels by cutting in a different size, flipping upside down and gathering/scattering the same level openings.
For the wall, more north side and the top has more openings to let light into the building. Less opening panels are used on the bottom of the wall more for the privacy. The second sketch and the third diagram is showing the organization of opening levels.

it was great to learn how the simple panels can create a variety of surface expression as well as the shading system.

2 Panel types idea diagram

 

West side wall: higher it goes, it has bigger and more frequent openings. lower wall has less and smaller openings.

 

organization of opening diagram: more openings on top for light and less opening on bottom for privacy. Also north side has many openings for light.

East side wall image

west side wall image

Exterior Facade Design at the Centre Gabriela Mistral

At Centre Gabriela Mistral, I was primarily focused on the cladding technique. Not only does the oxidized steel serve to block sun, but has a various aesthetic features. The building’s ambition of transparency is clearly achieved with its exterior facade design. Specifically, there is a clear system of solids versus voids on each sheet of steel. There is a small, medium, and large size. These panels arrange the several sizes of voids across the sheets, yet remaining in a very strict gridded organizational system. The panels are then hoisted up to elegantly wrap the entire building.

 

This sketch is overlaid on top of a photograph, showing the gridded facade design of the punctured oxidized steel.

 

Not only does this exterior quality serve for aesthetic purposes, it also acts as an exterior sun screen. By using this cladding technique, less sun radiates and warms the building throughout Chilean hot summers. This is a very sustainable idea for cladding a building, as it improves a building’ efficiency. 

Detail of the connection merging the exterior building to the steel facade skin. Note the various sizes in voids in the steel and how the light is filtered to inside of the building.

Another unique component of the Centre Gabriela Mistral is that it blends many artworks into its design. For instance, on the exterior there’s a large stained glass roof feature. The beautiful colors will radiate into the covered courtyard space.

Pictured shows how the roof stained glass roof features bleeds its colors onto the facade. This creates interesting lighting designs.

The colors will bleed onto the oxidized brown steel, adding color and breaking the monotonous organization of the steel panels. In all, the exterior facades have been gracefully designed, through a clear system. Not only does this cladding serve a unique aesthetic purpose, making it a very iconic building in Santiago, it also serves sustainability purposes. 

Detail of the stained glass feature on the top of the roof in the outdoor atrium space.

Santiago’s Sacred Places— Religiously Similar, Yet So Different

I found the difference between the two religiously-significant buildings, Santiago Metropolitan Cathedral and the Benedictine Monastery, very interesting due to the fact that their styles and messages have such a stark contrast to each other. While they are relatively close in location, each in Santiago, they do not connect in any sense. The Santiago Metropolitan Cathedral boasts a large, grand facade in the bustling Plaza de Armas. The cathedral, which was rebuilt many times due to earthquakes, finally settled on a Neoclassical style. The three naves are huge and the crypt was slightly bigger and more well-lit than I was expecting it to be. The crypt did a nice job slowing down the distractions and overwhelming qualities of the large and highly-ornamented interior of the church. The simple and plain materials allowed all of the focus to draw on the hierarchy of the crypt— Jesus. The Cathedral, overall seemed to restrict the natural light, allowing it to come in from the stained glass windows and an oculus. It is such a large space that it makes you forget where you are. The multiple chapels provide various sacred areas along with the crypt.

The largest nave in the Cathedral leading to the main alter.

The simpler and calmer crypt within the Santiago Metropolitan Cathedral.

The exterior of the Santiago Metropolitan Cathedral, with its context being located in Plaza de Armas.

This newer, simpler, more-modern Benedictine Monastery has a very different first impression than the Cathedral. The location, for one thing, provides a clue on what the intended effect of the building is. The Monastery is tucked away in the foothills of the Andes Mountains. It gives an amazing view of the surrounding mountains and towns below. It is not trying to fight for attention, as opposed to the Santiago Metropolitan Cathedral, which is competing with three other pieces of architecture around Plaza de Armas. The simple white exterior was beautiful against the blue sky, making any colors pop even more. The Monastery, while situated to admire the amazing view, does not have any windows to directly highlight the beauty. Instead, windows are tucked into the sides of the walls, at different angles, so they cannot be seen unless you’re looking for them. However, the building incorporates natural light in many ways: above and behind the alter, above the entrance, and behind the statue of Mary and Jesus. I found this use of light incredible since we went to the Monastery in the morning, which highlighted all the amazing features of the Monastery. The inside also was not ornamented like the Cathedral, which allowed you to focus on the statues, crosses, beautiful wood benches, and the glowing yellow light coming from within the chapel.

The exterior of the Monastery, along with a sketch I did, capturing the mountains in the distance.

The natural light streaming in above the alter at the Monastery.

Another example of the natural light highlighting a statue of significance— Mary and baby Jesus.

The glowing yellow light from within the chapel, shown from the main space of the congregation.

Personally, I found the slowed down pace and simple beauty of the Monastery more appealing because it allowed you to let go of any distractions or stress. The location and being able to see many mountains was quite amazing. The morning light also was a beautiful quality in and out of the space, shining over the white interior and exterior, showing the Monastery’s amazing qualities.

Transparency Inside/Under the Thickness

I was very excited to visit one of the Pritzker winning building today. It is Alejandro Aravena’s the Innovation Center at his graduated university

The dynamic openings are very deep and high (three story hight) which control the light and separate spaces inside. The contriver blocks were creating shadow and adding powerful gesture for the project. The simple shape and move, but the project stand out from surroundings due to its large scale. While the entire project’s scale is very large, the façade treatment/molding patterns match to human scale. The color changes slightly on the bottom. About 1/3 of bottom façade are darker than the above facade which adds visual volume and dense on the bottom.

Unlike the heavy and sublime feelings on the exterior, the interior spaces are very open and transparent. When you ride the elevator, you can see all of the floors and even the parking garage in the underground. A large part of its structures are exposed and an excessive amount of glasses are used. The light through the skylight and the punctured openings reflect those glasses. It makes the datum wood framings look like floating. The view from the openings is fantastic. I could see the view from the elevator. It was hard to believe that we were in the thick volume building when you see how transparent to the outside from the inside.

My sketch trying to show the volume of the balconies and the cantilever.

Inside: central void space looking up. Excessive lighting and reflection makes wood frames look floating

The Campus lo Contador was very surprising. I was not very prepared for this visit but it ended up a very great experience. I liked how they used the underground level and the ground level. I usually avoid using an underground level on my project because of the lighting issue. This project taught me how effective it can be to utilize the underground level, how to lets light in, and how to connect to the ground level.

Campus lo Contador: Section Sketch

A Moment of Contrasting Light

The aspect in Smiljan Radic’s design of the Pre-Columbian Museum that I found most interesting was regarding the light. All throughout the space, the light that was allowed to come into the building or a specific space was controlled by design. As we decended into the lowest level of the museum, the light gradually got dimmer and lessened. Soon, the light of the railings on the stairs was the only lighting to get to the lower level. When on the lower level, the light demonstrated the hierarchy in the space, which was the statues. On the opposite end of the statues, light also highlighted the other main artifacts.

The main level had the most light, especially with the open courtyard with the bright orange, pink, and purple installation. I found this to be one of my favorite parts of the museum. The vibrant colors of the installation allowed it to be a focal point, since the museum itself has a white exterior and the surrounding buildings are dull colors.

On the second level of the museum, the light allowed in was very controlled. This was demonstrated through the transparent shades on the windows that surrounded the courtyard. The purpose of this was to allow the light in the exhibits to be dimmer and show the best qualities of the space. While it would have been nice without the transparent shades blocking our views across the courtyard, it is very understandable why they are present.

This is the vibrant courtyard on the ground level of the Pre-Columbuian Art Museum. On the second level, you can see the black, but transparent, shades that are used to control the natural light on the second level.

This shows the reduced light on the lower level of the museum. The statues that are the main hierarchy are across from these artifacts, on the opposing side of the space. These are still important, as shown with the light above them.

On the ground level of the museum, there is the most amount of natural light in. On the left of this main stairwell was the ETFE courtyard, and to the right was the outside courtyard, both allowing natural light to filter throughout the space.

This is my interpretation of the courtyard using multiple media types- pencil, pen, poche marker, and water colors.