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DAYLIGHT & ARCHITECTURE MAGAZINE BY VELUXSPRING 2011 Issue 15 10 EuroLIGHT FROM A HUMAN PERSPECTIVE

VELUXEDITORIALDaylight ina humanperspectiveFor more than a century, architects andlighting consultants have optimised the useof daylight in buildings to support humanvision. The positive effects of natural lighton human health and well-being have alsobeen acknowledged but rarely incorporatedinto building codes and everyday designpractice.During the last decade, however,researchers have gained insight into previouslyundiscovered benefits of daylight thatcall for a new approach to building design:natural light is essential to human circadianregulation. A lack of daylight can severelydisturb our time rhythms, causing healthproblems such as sleep disturbance, stressand obesity.In modern society, we spend up to 90%of our time indoors, and much research suggeststhat our daily light dose is too smallto keep us healthy. So sufficient provisionof daylight is crucial in every building – notonly for reasons of energy efficiency but forthe sake of our own well-being. This insightis, however, not yet widely shared with consultantsand the building industry. There areno proper guidelines for daylight and health,even though considerable research anddocumentation seems to exist on how theintensity, time, duration, spectrum and distributionof exposure to light affects humanbehaviour and physiology.This issue of D/A explores which conditions,or combination of conditions, will promotehuman health and well-being indoors.It also raises the question of how the necessarybridges between daylight research andarchitectural design can be built, thus makinga real difference to future buildings.We present perspectives from four leadingresearchers and thinkers: circadian neuroscientistRussell Foster, environmentalpsychologist Judith Heerwagen and thearchitects Dean Hawkes and Brent Richardsapproach daylight from a human perspective.This edition also portrays four architectoffices from different parts of the world:SANAA from Japan, Will Bruder from theUSA, Jarmund/Vigsnaes from Norway, andLacaton & Vassal from France. Their buildingsare as diverse as the cultures and climatesfor which they were designed, butat the same time, they cater for universalhuman needs; to be protected from a harshclimate at the same time as being in closecontact with nature. A selected projectfrom each office is documented for the daylithours of one day.The winners of the International VELUXAward for Students of Architecture 2010took up the challenge to portray “The lightin my room” over the daylit hours of one day.In their photo project, they considered thedifferent qualities of light as well as manyquestions about the nature of light: How dowe perceive light through our senses? Andhow does the camera capture light?The VELUX Group strongly believes inthe beneficial effects of daylight. We believethat we need more stringent requirementsin building codes – and that operationalmethods and performance indicators needto be developed alongside useful guidelinesand tools for the professionals. The fourthVELUX Daylight Symposium in the RolexLearning Centre in May 2011 will focus specificallyon the effects of daylight on buildingoccupants, how we are affected by daylightand what the requirements are to achievegood daylit environments. We believe thatbuilding design should consider all dimensionsof people’s needs – and that they shouldbe based on insight that is shared betweenresearchers and practising architects andengineers.Enjoy the read!1

SPRING 20116 14 244254 56ISSUE 15ContentsBody Clocks, Light,Sleep and HealthThe experienceof daylightImagining light: themeasureable andthe unmeasurableof daylight designIn search of ananthropologyof daylight4×ARCHITECTURE &DAYLIGHTWILL BRUDER:“Light definesthe journey ofour lives”VELUX Editorial 2Contents 4Body Clocks, Light, Sleep and Health 6The experience of daylight 14Imagining Light: The measureable and the 24unmeasurable of daylight designIn search of an anthropology of daylight 424×Architecture & Daylight 54Will Bruder: “Light defines the journey of my life” 56Sanaa: A spatial invitation to presence 70Jarmund Wigsnaes: “We need to rediscover the economy of daylight” 82Lacaton/Vassal: ”Light is freedom” 94IVA, International Velux Award 104The everyday poetics of life 106“We live our lives in dim caves,” saysthe neurophysiologist Russell Foster.Electric light and the emergenceof the ‘round-the-clock’ society haveincreasingly isolated us from therhythms of nature. In his article forDaylight & Architecture, Foster describesthe consequences this is havingfor human beings.Why do people prefer daylight toartificial light, even though bothprovide enough light to see by? Environmentalpsychologist JudithHeerwagen investigated this matterclosely and, referring to current research,came to the conclusion thatthis preference is due to human evolution.“A room is not a room without naturallight,” says the American architectLouis Kahn. In his article,Dean Hawkes examines how Kahnand other pioneering architectshave worked with daylight in theirbuildings. Great architecture, accordingto Hawkes, is based on theoptimal relationship of quantitativeand qualitative aspects in the use ofdaylight.Many architects value the functionaland aesthetic advantagesof daylight but only know very littleabout its psychological effect. Inhis article, Brent Richards looks athow these areas of knowledge canbe more closely interlinked. His conclusion:two things are necessary –the holistically thinking architect,and interdisciplinary planning teamsin which specialists in different subjectsinspire each other.Every building has to mediate anewbetween a specific site with its climateand daylight, and universalhuman needs. How this can be donesuccessfully is shown in Daylight &Architecture by four architects’ officesfrom all over the world: WillBruder from Phoenix, SANAA fromTokyo, Jarmund/Vigsnæs from Osloand Lacaton & Vassal from Paris.The American architect Will Bruderhas been living in Phoenix, Arizona,for more than 40 years. The city,the surrounding desert landscapeand its light have exerted a lastinginfluence on his work. In an interviewwith Daylight & Architecture,Bruder describes how he makes useof light to ennoble even the mostsimple structures and materials inhis buildings.6 14 24 502 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 3

70 82 94 10894SANAA:A spatialinvitation topresenceJARMUND/VIGSNæS:“We need torediscover theeconomy ofdaylight”LACATON&VASSAL:“Light is freedom”The everydaypoetics of lightThe buildings of SANAA are a productof Japanese culture and its ownvery special relationship to daylight,nature and technology. Per Olaf Fjeldhas examined the architecture of thePritzker prize winners for Daylight &Architecture. SANAA, he writes, notonly uses daylight to create visual effectsbut also uses it as a means ofshaping spaces.The work of the Norwegian architectsJarmund/Vigsnæs is firmlyrooted in the Norwegian culture andlandscape. In an environment that isdetermined by stark contrasts, theirbuildings seek to establish a balancebetween sheltering and opening up,between opaqueness and transparency,and between different qualitiesof daylight and views.Freedom, openness and economy ofmeans are key concepts in the workof Lacaton & Vassal. In an interview,the Parisian architects, who wonthe Daylight & Building ComponentAward of the VELUX Foundation in2011, explain why they hardly evererect walls in their buildings – andwhat contemporary architects canlearn from Africa.We decide for ourselves how we live–but daylight also plays an importantrole in the decision. In order toget to the bottom of this phenomenon,the winners and runners-upof the International VELUX Award2010 made a photographic recordof the daylight in their homes over aperiod of a day.70824 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 5

Body Clocks,Light, Sleepand HealthThe eye establishes a connectionto the outer world not onlyfor our sense of sight but also forour sense of time and for manytemporal processes in our body.Over the last one and a half centuries, artificial light and the restructuringof working times have seemingly ‘liberated’ us from the diurnal cyclesof light and dark that nature imparts on us. Yet recent research hasshown that this separation from nature comes at a considerable cost,causing health and social problems. A reconnection to the rhythms ofnature is therefore needed – and this will also have a profound influenceon architecture.By Russell G. FosterIllustrations by Ulrika Nilsson CarlssonOur lives are ruled by time and we usetime to tell us what to do. But the digitalalarm clock that wakes us in the morningor the wrist-watch that tells us we are latefor supper are unnatural clocks. Our biologyanswers to a profoundly more ancientbeat that probably started to tick early inthe evolution of all life. Embedded withinour genes, and almost all life on earth, arethe instructions for a biological clock thatmarks the passage of approximately 24hours. Biological clocks or ‘circadianclocks’ (circa about, diem a day) helptime our sleep patterns, alertness, mood,physical strength, blood pressure andmuch more. Under normal conditions weexperience a 24-hour pattern of light anddark, and our circadian clock uses this signalto align biological time to the day andnight. The clock is then used to anticipatethe differing demands of the 24-hour dayand fine-tune physiology and behaviourin advance of the changing conditions.Body temperature drops, blood pressuredecreases, cognitive performance dropsand tiredness increases in anticipationof going to bed. Whilst before dawn, metabolismis geared-up in anticipation ofincreased activity when we wake.Few of us appreciate this internal world,seduced by an apparent freedom to sleep,work, eat, drink, or travel when we want.But this freedom is an illusion; in realitywe are not free to act independently of thebiological order that the circadian clockimparts. We are unable to perform withthe same efficiency throughout the 24hday. Life has evolved on a planet that experiencesprofound changes in light overthe 24h day and our biology anticipatesthese changes and needs to be exposedto the natural pattern of light and darkto function properly. Yet we detach ourselvesfrom the environment by forcingour nights into days using electric light,and isolate ourselves in buildings thatshield us from natural light. This shortreview considers some of the importantconsequences of our increasing detachmentfrom the sun.The day withinAt the base of the brain, in a structureknown as the anterior hypothalamus, isa cluster of about 50,000 neurones knownas the suprachiasmatic nuclei or SCN. Ifthis region is destroyed as a result of astroke or tumour, then 24h rhythmicityis lost and physiology becomes randomlydistributed across the day. The findingthat individual SCN neurones, isolatedfrom all other cells, show near 24-hourrhythms in electrical activity demonstratedthat the basic mechanisms thatgenerate this internal day must be partof a sub-cellular molecular mechanism.To date, approximately 14-20 genes andtheir protein products have been linkedto the generation of circadian rhythms.At the heart of the molecular clock is anegative feedback loop that consists of thefollowing sequence of events: the clockgenes are transcribed and the messengerRNAs (mRNAs) move to the cytoplasm ofthe cell and are translated into proteins;The proteins interact to form complexesand then move from the cytoplasm intothe nucleus and inhibit the transcriptionof their own genes; the inhibitory clockprotein complexes are then degradedand the core clock genes are once morefree to make their mRNA and hence freshprotein. This negative feedback loop generatesa near 24-hour rhythm of proteinproduction and degradation that encodesthe biological day.The original assumption was that SCNneurones collectively drive or impose a24h rhythm on physiology and behaviour.However, the discovery that isolated cellsfrom almost any organ of the body produceclock genes/proteins in a circadianpattern led to a major shift in our understanding.We now appreciate that the SCNacts as a master pacemaker, coordinatingthe activity of all cellular clocks in a mannerthat has been likened to the conductorof an orchestra, regulating the timing ofthe multiple and varied components ofthe ensemble. In the absence of the SCN,the individual cellular clocks of the organsystems drift apart and coordinated circadianrhythms collapse – a state known asinternal desynchronisation. Internal desynchronisationis the main reason whywe feel so awful as a result of jet lag. All thedifferent organ systems, the brain, liver,gut, muscles etc., are working at a slightlydifferent time. Only when internal timehas been re-aligned can we function normallyonce more.7

Inner timepiece: special photoreceptorsin the ganglion cellsof the optic nerve synchroniseour inner clock with the cyclesof light and dark in our environment– and thus with local time.Our body clocks are different –genes and hormones?Our body clocks are not all the same. Ifyou are alert in the mornings and go tobed early you are a ‘lark’, but if you hatemornings and want to keep going throughthe night, then you are an ’owl’.These terms have been used to describethe real phenomenon of diurnalpreference – the times when you preferto sleep and when you do your best work.Diurnal preference is determined partlyby our clock genes. Exciting researchin recent years has shown that smallchanges in these genes have been linkedto the fast clocks (shorter than 24h) oflarks or slower clocks (longer than 24h)of owls. But it is not just our genes thatregulate our diurnal preference. Sleeptiming changes markedly as we age. Bythe time of puberty, bed times and waketimes drift to later and later hours. Thistendency to get up later continues untilabout the age of 19.5 years in womenand 21 years in men. At this point thereis a reversal and a drift towards earliersleep and wake times. By the age of55–60 we are getting up as early as wedid when we were 10. These and alliedresults demonstrate that young adultsreally do have a problem getting upin the morning. Teenagers show bothdelayed sleep and high levels of sleepdeprivation, because they are going tobed late but still having to get up earlyin the morning to go to school. Thesereal biological effects have been largelyignored in terms of the time structureimposed upon teenagers at school. Ofthe few studies undertaken, later startingtimes for schools have been shown toimprove alertness and the mental abilitiesof students during their morning lessons.Ironically, whilst young adults tendto improve their performance across theday, their older teachers show a decline inperformance over the same period! Themechanisms for this change in diurnalpreference remain poorly understood,but are thought to relate to the markedchanges in our steroid hormones (e.g.testosterone, oestrogen, progesterone)and their rapid rise during puberty andsubsequent slower decline.Light clocks and alertnessA clock is not a clock unless it can be setto local time – and the molecular clockswithin the SCN are normally adjusted(entrained) by daily exposure to lightaround dawn and dusk detected by theeyes. Failure to expose the clock to a stablelight/dark cycle results in drifting or‘free-running’ circadian rhythms or disruptedcycles. Detachment from solarday is common in industrialised societiesand the special case of shift workerswill be discussed below; however isolationfrom robust dawn and dusk signalsoccurs in many different instances. Forexample, paediatric and adult intensivecare units frequently utilise low andconstant light. In such an environmentcircadian rhythms would be expected todrift and become desynchronised. The result,as discussed below in the sub-section’Disrupting the clock’, will be a weakenedhealth status of the patient. Light doesmore than regulate the timing of circadianrhythms – it also has a direct effecton alertness and performance. Brainimaging following light exposure showsincreased activity in many of the brainareas involved in alertness, cognitionand memory (thalamus, hippocampus,brainstem) and mood (amygdala). Furthermore,increased light has been shownto improve concentration, the ability toperform cognitive tasks and to reducesleepiness. As a result, inappropriate lightexposure in a building will not only disruptsleep and circadian timing but alsolevels of alertness and performance. Wewill return to this topic below.Our understanding of how light regulatescircadian rhythms and alertnesshas been advanced dramatically overthe past few years with the discovery ofan entirely new photoreceptor system inthe eye. This novel photoreceptor is notlocated in the part of the eye containingthe rods (night vision) and cones (day vision)that are used to generate an imageof the world, but in the ganglion cells thatform the optic nerve. Most ganglion cellsform a functional connection betweenthe eye and the brain, but a small numberof specialised ganglion cells (1–3%) are directlylight-sensitive and project to those“Of the few studies undertaken,later starting times for schoolshave been shown to improvealertness and the mental abilitiesof students during their morninglessons. Ironically, whilst youngadults tend to improve theirperformance across the day, theirolder teachers show a decline inperformance over the sameperiod!”parts of the brain involved in the regulationof circadian rhythms, sleep, alertness,memory and mood. These photosensitiveretinal ganglion cells (pRGCs) containa light-sensitive pigment called Opn4,which is most sensitive in the blue partof the spectrum with a peak sensitivityat 480 nm – very similar to the ‘blue’ of aclear blue sky. This light-detection systemhas evolved to be anatomically and functionallyindependent of the visual system,and probably evolved before vision as themain way to detect light for entrainingdaily rhythms. Remarkably, the pRGCscan still detect light to shift the circadianclock or affect alertness even in animalsor people where the rods and cones usedfor vision are completely destroyed andwho are otherwise totally visually blind.This raises important implications forophthalmologists who are largely unawareof this new photoreceptor systemand its impact on human physiology.In view of the colour sensitivity ofOpn4, we would predict that blue lightshould be the most effective wavelength(colour) for shifting circadian rhythmsand alerting the arousal systems. In allstudies undertaken to-date, this has beenshown to be the case. Blue light exposureat night is most effective at shifting thetiming of the circadian clock, reducingsleepiness, improving reaction timesand activating areas of the brain mediatingalertness and sleep. In addition to itsspectrum, light timing, duration, patternand history all interact to influence circadianrhythms and alertness. Light timingis particularly important. Light can either8 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 159

Even the colour of the sky haslefts its traces in our genes:the photoreceptors of our‘biological clock’ react moresensitively to blue light thanto any other colour.advance (go to bed earlier) or delay (go tobed later) the circadian system dependingon the timing of exposure. Under conditionsof solar light exposure, light arounddusk causes a delay of the clock, whereaslight exposure around dawn will advancethe clock. This delaying and advancingeffect of light keeps the SCN locked ontoto the solar day. Such differential effectsof light become vitally important whentrying to understand the impact of jet lag,shift work (see below), or building designon sleep/wake timing.The pRGCs are not as sensitive to lightas the rods and cones, so that short lightexposure that is easily detected by thevisual system is not recognised by thepRGCs. However, dim light can have aneffect if it is delivered over long periodsof time. Thus relatively dim indoor roomlight from bedside lamps and computerscreens (less than 100 lux) can have measureableeffects on the clock and arousalsystems over several hours, and may exacerbatesleep disorders. Collectively, theseeffects of light – spectral composition,time of exposure and brightness – havewidespread clinical and occupational applicationsin not only treating sleep disordersand fatigue but in the architecture ofhospitals, schools, offices, retail space anddomestic buildings.Disrupting the clock –shift work and 24/7The introduction of electricity and artificiallight in the 19th century and the restructuringof work times have progressivelydetached us from the solar 24-hourcycles of light and dark. The consequencehas been disruption of the circadian andsleep systems. Much has been writtenabout the effects of this disruption, andin general terms the effects are clear(Table 1). Sleep and circadian rhythmdisruption results in performance deficitsthat include increased errors, poorvigilance, poor memory, reduced mentaland physical reaction times and reducedmotivation. Sleep deprivation and disruptionare also associated with a rangeof metabolic abnormalities, includingthe glucose/insulin axis. For example,sleep disrupted individuals take longerto regulate blood-glucose levels and insulincan fall to levels seen in the earlystages of diabetes — abnormalities thatcan be reversed by normal sleep. Such resultshave suggested that long-term sleepand circadian rhythm disruption mightcontribute to chronic conditions such asdiabetes, obesity and hypertension. Furthermore,obesity is strongly correlatedwith sleep apnoea and hence additionalsleep disturbance. Under these circumstancesa dangerous positive feedbackloop of obesity and sleep disturbance canoften result.Sleep loss and circadian rhythm disruptionare most obvious in night-shiftworkers. More than 20% of the populationof employment age work at leastsome of the time outside the 07.00–19.00day.Josephine Arendt at the University ofSurrey makes the point: “Because of theirrapidly changing and conflicting lightdarkexposure and activity-rest behaviour,shift workers can have symptoms similarto those of jet lag. Although travellers normallyadapt to the new time zone, shiftworkersusually live out of phase with localtime cues”. Even after 20 years of nightshiftwork, individuals will not normallyshift their circadian rhythms in responseto the demands of working at night. Despitethe great variety and complexity of‘shift systems’, none have been able to alleviatefully the circadian problems associatedwith shift work. Metabolism, alongwith alertness and performance, are stillhigh during the day when the night-shiftworker is trying to sleep and low at nightwhen the individual is trying to work. Amisaligned physiology, along with poorsleep, in night-shift workers has been associatedwith increased cardiovascularmortality, an eight-fold higher incidenceof peptic ulcers, and a higher risk of someforms of cancer. Other problems includea greater risk of accidents, chronic fatigue,excessive sleepiness, difficulty sleepingand higher rates of substance abuse anddepression. Night-shift workers are alsomuch more likely to view their jobs asextremely stressful.So why don’t shift-workers shift theirclocks? After all, if we travel across multipletime zones we do recover from jetlag and entrain to local time. The answerseems to be that the pRGCs that entrainthe circadian system are fairly insensitiveto light. The clock always respondsto bright natural sunlight in preferenceto the dim artificial light commonly foundin the workplace. It is not obvious butshortly after dawn, natural light is some50 times brighter than normal office lighting(300–500 lux), and at noon naturallight can be 500 to 1,000 times brighter– even in Northern Europe. Thus exposureto strong natural light on the journey toand from work, combined with low levelsof light in the workplace, entrains thenight-shift worker onto local time. In thisway biological and social time are persistentlymisaligned in night-shift workers.In the absence of any natural light, however,the clock will eventually respond toman-made light. Theoretically this informationcould be used to develop practicalcountermeasures to the problems ofworking at night. However, most nightshiftworkers prefer not to be adapted toa reversed sleep-wake cycle as they liketo spend their work-free time with familyand friends at maximum alertness. Onesuggestion has been to select individualsTable 1Consequences of Circadian RhythmDisruption and Shortened SleepDrowsiness/microsleeps/unintended sleepAbrupt mood shiftsIncreased irritabilityAnxiety and depressionWeight gainDecreased socialisation skillsand sense of humourDecreased motor performanceDecreased cognitive performanceReduced ability to concentrate and rememberReduced communication and decision skillsIncreased risk-takingReduced quality, creativity and productivityReduced immunity to disease and viral infectionFeelings of being chilledReduced ability to handle complextasks or multi-taskIncreased risk of substance abuse11

Long phases of human evolutiontook place in bright sunlight.However, this has been changingsince the beginning of the industrialage – with consequences forour health and psyche that areonly gradually becoming knowntoday.for shift work on the basis of their diurnalpreference – ‘owls’ have naturally betteralertness at later hours and make betternight-shift workers, while ‘larks’ are usuallybetter at adapting to early morningshifts.There is increasing evidence of a complexand important interaction betweencircadian rhythm/sleep disruption andthe immune system. Rats deprived ofsleep readily die of septicaemia, and inhumans the activity of natural killer cellscan be lowered by as much as 28% afteronly one night without sleep. Sleep disruptionalso alters many other aspects ofthe immune system including circulatingimmune complexes, secondary antibodyresponses, and antigen uptake. Cortisolprovides an important link between theimmune system, sleep and psychologicalstress. Sleep disruption and sustainedpsychological stress increase cortisollevels in the blood. Indeed, one lost nightof sleep can raise cortisol by nearly 50%on the following evening. High levelsof cortisol act to suppress the immunesystem, so excessively tired people aremore likely to acquire an infection. Inthis context, night-shift workers are at ahigher risk of certain types of cancer andthere has been considerable speculationas to the cause. In view of the considerablephysiological stress and sleep loss associatedwith night-shift work, immuneimpairment could provide a mechanisticlink with the increased risk of cancers innight-shift workers.Conclusions and perspectivesThe discussion in this article has consideredboth the biology of internal time andsome of the general problems we face ifwe ignore the role of sleep and circadiantiming in our lives. It is now clear that poorsleep, mood changes, decreased cognitiveperformance, reduced communicationskills and a higher risk of disease can arisefrom the demands of a 24/7 society. Oneof the consequences of this impairment ofbrain function is the reliance by large sectionsof society on day-time stimulantsand night-time sedatives to replace theorder normally imposed by the circadiansystem. Shift-work is perhaps the mostextreme example, but we should not ignorethe fact that many of our childrenin schools, healthcare professionals inhospitals, and manufacturing and businessworkforces are isolated from naturallight. This will not only increase theirlikelihood of circadian rhythm and sleepdisturbance but also have a significantimpact upon their cognition, mood andsense of well-being. We are a species thathas evolved under bright light conditions– even on an overcast day in Europe, naturallight is around 10,000 lux, and may beas high as 100,000 lux on bright sunnydays. Yet we live in homes and work inoffices, factories, schools and hospitalsthat are often isolated from natural lightand where artificial light is often around200 lux and seldom exceeds 400–500 lux.We live our lives in dim caves. Modern architecturaldesign has the opportunity, byletting light into our lives, to liberate humanityfrom the gloom and allowing ourbodies to use the natural pattern of lightand dark to optimise our biology.Russell Foster is Professor of Circadian Neuroscienceand the Head of Department of Ophthalmologyat Oxford University. Russell Foster’sresearch spans basic and applied circadian andphotoreceptor biology. For his discovery of nonrod,non-cone ocular photoreceptors, he hasbeen awarded numerous prizes, including theHonma prize (Japan), Cogan Award (USA) andZoological Society Scientific & Edride-GreenMedals (UK). He is co-author of Rhythms of Lifeand Seasons of Life, popular science books onbiological rhythms. In 2008, he was elected as aFellow of the Royal Society.Further readingFoster, R.G. & Kreitzman, L. (2004) Rhythms of Life:The biological clocks that control the daily lives ofevery living thing. Profile Books, London.Foster, R.G. & Wulff, K. (2005) The rhythm of restand excess. Nat Rev Neurosci, 6, 407–414.Foster, R.G. & Hankins, M.W. (2007) Circadian vision.Curr Biol, 17, R746–751.Rajaratnam, S.M. & Arendt, J. (2001) Health in a24-h society. Lancet, 358, 999–1005.Zaidi, F.H., Hull, J.T., Peirson, S.N., Wulff, K., Aeschbach,D., Gooley, J.J., Brainard, G.C., Gregory-Evans,K., Rizzo III, J.F., Czeisler, C.A., Foster, R.G., Moseley,M.J. & Lockley, S.W. (2007) Short-wavelengthlight sensitivity of circadian, pupillary and visualawareness in humans lacking an outer retina. CurrBiol, 17, 2122–2128.12 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

The Experienceof DaylightViews towards the outside are asignificant quality criterion forarchitectural spaces – and notonly in office buildings.A considerable body of research shows that people prefer daylit spacesto those lacking natural light. Why should this be? If there is sufficientlight to see, why would people prefer one source to another? To answerthis question, we need to understand the evolved relationship betweenhumans and natural light.By Judith HeerwagenPhotography by Gerry JohanssonImagine you are on a camping trip thatlasts a lifetime. You and your small bandof hunter-gatherers wake up with the firstlight of day. You huddle around the fadingembers of the camp fire, eat leftovers fromthe night before and discuss the day’sforaging activities. By the time the sun isfully up, you head into the bush using thebright light of day to identify edible fruitsand berries and to track animals. By noon,the sun is hot and you seek the shade ofa tree canopy for refuge and rest. As yousnack on nuts and berries, conversationis drawn to the horizon where large stormclouds have begun to gather. You’re a longway from camp and are concerned aboutgetting back. Dark clouds gather, cuttingout the sun overhead but providing dramaticshafts of light in the distance. Itrains hard, but briefly, as you huddle undera rock outcropping for protection. Asyou head back, the clouds begin to breakand a rainbow lights up the sky signallingthe end of the storm. You get back to campjust in time for dinner. You discuss theday’s events around the campfire as thesun begins to set, lighting the sky orangeand pink. Dusk brings with it a greynessthat hides the details of the landscape,making it more difficult to discern whatis happening beyond the campsite. Soonit is dark and everyone gathers around thefire for warmth, light and companionshipbefore going to sleep under the soft lightof the moon.Daylight from anevolutionary perspectivePrior to the advent of buildings, humanslived immersed in nature. Daily activitieswere aided or constrained by the presenceor absence of daylight and by qualities oflight that signalled time and weather. Ourphysiological systems – especially oursleep-wake cycles – were in synch with thediurnal rhythms of daylight, as were ouremotional responses to light and darkness.The strong, consistent preference for daylightin our built-up environments todaysuggests that evolutionary pressures arelikely to be influencing our responses.Although all our sensory systems actingtogether were important to survival,the visual system is our primary mode ofgathering information. Thus, light musthave played a powerful role in informationprocessing and survival. In ancestralhabitats, light was likely to have had severalkey functions that are relevant to thedesign and operation of built-up environments.These include:• Indicator of time. Natural light changessignificantly over the course of the day,providing a signal of time that has beencrucial to survival throughout humanhistory. Being in a safe place when thesun was setting was not a trivial matterfor our ancestors, and it is still importantto human well-being.• Indicator of weather. Light also changeswith weather, from the dark, ominouscolour of storms to rainbows andbeams of light as clouds break up andrecede. Attending to the variability inlight and its relationship to changes inweather would have been highly adaptive(Orians and Heerwagen, 1992).• Signal of prospect and refuge. Thesense of prospect is signalled by distantbrightness and refuge is signalled byshadow (Appleton, 1975, Hildebrand,1999). Brightness in the distance aidsassessment and planning because it allowsfor information to be perceived insufficient time for action to be taken.High prospect environments includeopen views to the horizon and a luminoussky (‘big sky’). A sense of refugeis provided by shadows from tree canopies,cliff overhangs, or other naturalforms. Mottram (2002) suggests thatallowing the eyes to rest on infinity(which the horizon represents visually)may be beneficial, even if the viewis perceptually manipulated throughvisual images rather than actual distantviews. Thus, our natural attractionto the horizon could be satisfied inmany ways through the manipulationof light and imagery applied to verticalsurfaces.• Signal of safety, warmth, and comfort.Although we usually think of the sunas the primary source of light in thenatural environment, fire also servedas a source of light and comfort, bothphysical and psychological. Anthropologistand physician Melvin Kon-15

There is an innate need inhuman beings to be in touchwith nature. The acceptanceof buildings is therefore cruciallydependent on the extent towhich they enable contact withexternal surroundings.ner (1982) suggests that the campfireserved important cognitive and socialfunctions in developing human societies.The campfire extended the day, allowingpeople to focus their attentionnot only on the daily grind of findingfood and avoiding predators but alsoon thinking about the future, planningahead and cementing social relationshipsthrough story-telling and sharingthe day’s experiences.• Peripheral processing aid. Light alsoprovides information about what ishappening beyond the immediatespace one occupies. It illuminatesthe surrounding environment that impingescontinually on our peripheralprocessing system. The importance ofperipheral light is evident from the discomfortmany people feel when theyare in a lighted space with low lightingat the edges, leading to a perception ofgloom. Lighting researchers suggestthat negative responses to gloom maybe associated with its natural functionas an early warning signal that visualconditions are deteriorating (Shepherdet al, 1989).• Synchronisation of bio- and socialrhythms. As a diurnal species, lightplays a critical role in our sleep-wakecycles and also synchronises social activities.Although we can now alter ouractivity cycle with the use of electriclight, research evidence nonethelessshows that night work is still difficultand often results in drowsiness, difficultysleeping, mood disturbancesand increased cognitive difficulties atwork (Golden et al, 2005). Some nightwork facilities are using bright interiorlight to shift biological rhythmsand increase alertness. There is alsoevidence that people who experienceseasonally-related depression preferto be in brightly lit spaces (Heerwagen,1990).To summarise, light provides informationfor orientation, safety and surveillance,interpretation of social signals, identificationof resources and awareness of hazards.Whether it is the changing colour oflight associated with sunset or storms, themovement of fire or lightning, the brightnessin the distance that aids planning andmovement, or the sparkle of light off water– all these aspects of light have played a rolein helping our ancestors make decisionsabout where to go, how to move throughthe environment, what to eat, and how toavoid dangers.Human experience of daylight inthe built-up environmentGiven Homo sapiens immersion in anaturally-lit environment during ourevolutionary history, it is not surprisingthat building occupants enjoy the veryfeatures that characterise daylight innatural landscapes.Research on office buildings shows ahigh preference for daylit spaces and forspecific features of daylight. A study ofseven office buildings in the Pacific Northwest(Heerwagen et al, 1992) shows thatmore than 83% of the occupants said they“very much” liked daylight and sunlight intheir workspace, and valued the seasonalchanges in daylight. Interestingly, daylightdesign generally aims to eliminatedirect beam sunlight from entering workareas due to glare and heat gain.When the data were looked at with respectto the occupant’s location, 100% ofthose in corner offices said the amount ofdaylight was “just right,” as did more than90% of those along the window wall inspaces other than the corner offices. Eventhose located in more interior positionswere satisfied with the daylight, as longas they could look into a daylit space.Daylight and workWe know that people like to be in daylitspaces and that they like indoor sunlight.However, when occupants in the abovestudy were asked about light for workpurposes, only 20% said daylight wassufficient for work. The vast majority saidthey used electric ceiling light “usually” or“always” to supplement daylight.Even those who rated daylight as “justright” also used electric lights regularly.Although the reasons for this situationare not clear, anecdotal evidence suggests19

Views towards the outside areamong the most important criteriafor the acceptance of buildings.While providing varietywithin the everyday routine oflife, they also help to preventfeelings of claustrophobia.that occupants also supplement daylightwith task lamps. It is possible that electriclight, whether ceiling or task, reduceslighting contrasts on work surfaces thatmake some visual work difficult.A post-occupancy evaluation of thefirst LEED Platinum building in the US,the Philip Merrill Environmental Center,shows very high satisfaction with daylight,despite concerns with visual discomfort(Heerwagen and Zagreus, 2005). Thissuggests that people may value the psychologicalbenefits of daylight even whendaylight creates difficulties for work dueto glare and uneven light distribution.Certainly, the kinds of visual tasks weperform in today’s work environmentsare very different from our ancestors’daily tasks. Cooking, tool making, conversing,foraging, and hunting could beeffectively carried out over a wide rangeof luminous conditions. In contrast, readingand computer work require a muchgreater degree of visual acuity that maybe more difficult in some daylit environments.Yet a uniformly lit environmentthat may be appropriate for office worklacks the psychological, and perhaps biological,value of daylight.Attitudes toward Daylight andElectric LightA study of office workers in a Seattlehigh-rise building asked respondents tocompare the relative merits of daylightand electric light for psychological comfort,general health, visual health, workperformance, jobs requiring fine observation,and office aesthetics (Heerwagenand Heerwagen, 1986).The results show that the respondentsrated daylight as better than electric lightfor all variables, especially for psychologicalcomfort, health and aesthetics. Theyrated daylight and electric light as equallygood for visual tasks.At the time of this study in 1986, therewas little evidence connecting daylight tohealth. Since that time, however, therehas been a surge of research on the link betweenlight and health, much of it focusingon the circadian system and seasonalaffective disorder. Much of this work hasbeen conducted in clinical settings withphototherapy. Since a review of this topicis provided elsewhere in this issue, it willnot be addressed here.However, it is worth noting a laboratorystudy that investigated lighting preferencesof subjects with Seasonal AffectiveDisorder (SAD) compared to subjects thatdid not experience seasonal changes inmood or other behaviours (Heerwagen,1990). Those who experienced seasonalchanges chose significantly higher levelsof brightness for all lighting sources comparedto those who did not. This suggeststhat people experiencing SAD may indeedbe ‘light hungry’ and could benefit fromindoor environments with high daylightlevels, such as atria, sunrooms and locationsadjacent to windows.But what do we know about otherhealth impacts of daylight in the builtupenvironment? Research in hospitalsettings, looking at the relationship betweenroom daylight levels and patientoutcomes, found that bi-polar patientsin bright, east-facing rooms stayed in thehospital 3.7 fewer days on average thanthose in west-facing rooms (Benedettiand others, 2001). Similar results werefound by Beauchamin and Hays (1996)for psychiatric in-patients; those in thebrightest rooms stayed in the hospital 2.6fewer days on average. However, neitherof these studies provides data on the actuallight levels in the patient rooms or lightentering the retina, so it is difficult to drawconclusions about exposure levels.More recent research in a Pittsburghhospital actually measured room brightnesslevels. Walch and others (2005) studied89 patients who had elective cervicaland spinal surgery. Half the patientswere located on the bright side of thehospital, while the other half were in ahospital wing with an adjacent buildingthat blocked sun entering the rooms. Thestudy team measured medication typesand cost as well as psychological functioningthe day after surgery and at discharge.The researchers also conducted extensivephotometric measurements of light ineach room, including light levels at thewindow, on the wall opposite the patient’sbed, and at the head of the bed (which presumablywould have been at or near the20 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

Natural light at the place of workis not only a question of seeing.Surveys have shown that peopleplace great value on daylighteven when it is actually detrimentalto vision.patient’s eye level). The results showedthat those in the brighter rooms had 46%higher intensity of sunlight. Patients inthe brightest rooms also took 22% lessanalgesic medicine/hr and experiencedless stress and marginally less pain. Thisresulted in a 21% decrease in the costs ofmedicine for those in the brightest rooms.The mechanisms linking bright light topain are currently unknown, however.Other potential benefits of indoor daylightinclude improved sense of vitality, decreaseddaytime sleepiness and reducedanxiety. For example, a large-scale surveyof office worker exposure to light duringthe winter in Sweden shows that moodand vitality were enhanced in healthypeople with higher levels of exposure tobright daylight (Partonen and Lönngvist,2000). Another study shows that a halfhourexposure to bright daylight by sittingadjacent to windows reduced afternoonsleepiness in healthy adult subjects (Kaidaet al., 2006). In that study, daylight levelsranged from about 1,000 lux to over 4,000lux, depending upon sky conditions. Kaidaet al. found that daylight was almost aseffective as a short nap in reducing normalpost-lunchtime drowsiness and increasingalertness.Is daylight biophilic?E.O. Wilson popularised the term “biophilia”in 1984 with the publication ofhis book, Biophilia. In it he describes biophiliaas the human tendency to affiliatewith life and life- like processes. Wilsonnever fully explained what he meant by“life-like processes.” However, if we considerthe characteristics of life, we canlook at daylight as sharing some of thesefeatures. Daylight grows over the courseof the day as the sun moves across thesky, it changes in colour and intensity, itprovides sustenance for life, its absenceat night provokes behavioural change,and the lengthening day after the longwinter months evokes joy and a sense ofwell being.Wilson and others describe biophiliaas an evolved adaptation linked to survival.The evidence cited in this articlesuggests that daylight, in addition to being“life-like,” has deeply-seated healthand psychological benefits that may bedifficult to support in electrically-litenvironments. Clearly, we can designinteriors with electric light that changesintensity and colour over time and thatmimics other features of daylight. But willit feel the same? Can electrically-lit environmentsprovide the same biologicalbenefits as daylight? We don’t yet knowthe answers to these questions, but wedo know that such efforts would be moreenergy intensive and more costly.The life-like and life-supportingqualities of daylight strongly suggestthat daylight is a basic human need, nota resource to be used or eliminated at thewhim of the building owner or designer.The presence of daylight and sunlight inbuildings clearly affects our psychologicaland physiological experience of place. Itsabsence creates lifeless, bland, indifferentspaces that disconnect us from ourbiological heritage.Judith Heerwagen, Ph.D., is an environmental psychologistin Seattle, Washington. She is an affiliatefaculty member in the Department of Architectureat the University of Washington where she has cotaughtseminars on bio-inspired design and sustainability.She has written and lectured widely onthe human factors of sustainable design, includinghealth, psychological impacts and productivity.She is co-editor of Biophilic Design: The Theory,Science and Practice of Bringing Buildings to Life(Wiley, 2008).ReferencesAppleton, J. 1975. The Experience ofLandscape. London: Wiley.Beauchemin, K.M. and Hayes, P.1996. Sunny hospital rooms expediterecovery from severe and refractorydepressions. Journal of Affective Disorders,40(1): 49–51.Benedetti, F., Colombo, C., Barbini, B.,Campori, E., and Smeraldi, E., 2001.Morning sunlight reduces length ofhospitalization in biopolar depression.Journal of Affective Disorders,62(3): 221–223.Golden, R.N., Gaynes B.N., Ekstrom,R.D., Hamer, R.M., Jacobsen, R.M.,Suppes, T., Wisner, K.L. and Nemeroff,C.B. 2005. The efficacy of light therapyin the treatment of mood disorders:a review and meta-analysis ofthe evidence. American Journal ofPsychiatry, 162: 656–662.Heerwagen, J.H. 1990. Affective Functioning,“Light Hunger,” and RoomBrightness Preferences. Environmentand Behavior. 22(5): 608–635.Heerwagen, J. H. and Heerwagen,D.R. 1986. Lighting and PsychologicalComfort. Lighting Design and Application,16(4): 47–51.Heerwagen, J.H. and Zagreus, L.2005. The Human Factors of Sustainability:A Post Occupancy Evaluationof the Philip Merrill EnvironmentalCenter, Annapolis MD. University ofCalifornia, Berkeley, Center for theBuilt Environment.Heerwagen, J.H. and Orians, G.H1993. Humans, Habitats and Aesthetics.In Kellert, S.R. and Wilson,E.O. (Eds.) The Biophilia Hypothesis.Washington DC: Island Press.Hildebrand, G. 1999. Origins of ArchitecturalPleasure. Berkeley: Universityof California Press.Kaida, K., Takahshi, M., Haratani, T.,Otsuka, Y., Fukasawa, K. and Nakata,A. 2006. Indoor exposure to naturalbright light prevents afternoon sleepiness.Sleep, 29(4): 462–469.Konner, M. 1982. The Tangled Wing:Biological Constraints on the HumanSpirit. NewYork: Holt, Rhinehart &WinstonMottram, J. 2002. Textile Fields andWorkplace Emotions. Paper presentedat the 3rd International Conferenceon Design and Emotion, 1–3July, Loughborough, England.Orians, G.H. and Heerwagen, J.H.1992. Evolved Responses to Landscapes.In Barkow, J., Cosmides, L.and Tooby, J. (Eds). The AdaptedMind: Evolutionary Psychology andthe Generation of Culture. New York:Oxford University Press.Partonen, T. and Lönngvist, J. 2000.Bright light improves vitality andalleviates distress in healthy people.Journal of Affective Disorders,57(1): 55–61.Shepherd, A.J., Jullien, W.G. and Purcell,A.T. 1989. Gloom as a psychophysiologicalphenomenon. LightingResearch and Technology, 21(3): 89–97.Walch, J. M., Rabin, B. S., Day, R., Williams,J. N., Choi, K. and Kang, J. D.2005. The effect of sunlight on postoperativeanalgesic medication use: aprospective study of patients undergoingspinal surgery. PsychosomaticMedicine, 67: 156–163.Wilson, E.O. 1984. Biophilia. Cambridge,MA: Harvard UniversityPress.22 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

Imagining Light:the measureableand the unmeasurableof daylight designThe art of daylighting involves much more than merely allowing the rightamounts of natural light into a building. Acts of great architecturalimagination may transform the utilitarian functions of daylighting – themeasurable – into places of great beauty – the unmeasurable. To get abetter understanding of these strategies, it is helpful to look at masterpiecesof daylight and architecture in greater detail.By Dean HawkesPhotography by Gerry Johansson“Architecture comes from the making ofa room. A room is not a room withoutnatural light.”Louis KahnIn this deceptively simple statement,Louis Kahn lays down a profound challenge.The implication is that light inarchitecture is needed not only to servepractical purposes, but is the key to thedefinition of architecture itself.One of the most important achievementsof nineteenth- and twentieth-centuryapplied science has been to quantify andcodify human requirements in buildings.This has been particularly successful inthe field of lighting design, where standardsof illumination, design proceduresand rules-of-thumb are to be found inmany design manuals and guidebooksFamiliar rules-of-thumb include geometricalformulae, such as the ‘no-skyline’, where the depth of penetration ofthe visible sky is taken to indicate thelimitation of the daylit area of a room.Others are expressed in simple equationsin which the daylight factor in a room isrelated to the ratio of window area to floorarea. These tools are of immense utilityand place practical design on solid foundations.In recent years, they have beencomplemented by the development ofcomputer-based calculation methodsand simulation tools.But there is much more to daylightingdesign than this and, once again, it is LouisKahn who gets to the nub of the matter.“I only wish that the first really worthwhilediscovery of science would be that it recognisedthat the unmeasurable is whatthey’re really fighting to understand, andthat the measureable is only the servantof the unmeasurable; that everything thatman makes must be fundamentally unmeasurable.”Here Kahn presents a conundrum. Whatis the value of quantification and codification,the measureable, if we are reallyseeking to understand the essence of architecture,the unmeasurable? How maywe solve the puzzle?It is a truism that architecture is acombination of art and science. This isclearly reflected in the conventional categoriesof architectural literature and inthe curricula of schools of architecture,where the two realms all too often remainfirmly separate. But this does not help usto solve Kahn’s conundrum, so where dowe look?Christopher Wren:geometry and lightMy solution is that, whilst aspects of artand science certainly pertain to questionsof architecture, it is not possible to constructa proper understanding of its truenature by applying a simplistic equationof the form – art + science = architecture.In the search for an answer, we shouldturn to the evidence of buildings themselves,of works of architecture, and ofthe statements of architects of substance,which, if correctly interpreted, providedeep insights into the matter. I propose amode of architectural analysis that allowsus to look directly into Kahn’s architecturalunmeasurable.In my book The Environmental Imagination,I made studies of works by significantarchitects whose work spannedthe nineteenth and twentieth centuries,precisely paralleling the period whenthe quantification of environmentaldesign occurred. In recent work, I havepushed back the historical time frameto explore works from the sixteenth tothe eighteenth centuries. In all of this Ihave argued that the crucial instrumentof understanding, of looking into the unmeasurable,is that of the imagination,defined by my dictionary as, ‘the facultyof forming new ideas’. To illustrate mymeaning, let’s consider some buildingsthat demonstrate the application of imaginationin the conception of daylight.The first case is from the works of SirChristopher Wren. He was both scientistand architect and, before his first worksas an architect, he held professorships ofastronomy, first in London and then inOxford. In a forthcoming book I explorethe relationship between Wren’s scienceand his architecture and propose that heachieved a profound reconciliation ofthese two fields, of the measurable andthe unmeasurable. One of Wren’s greatestarchitectural achievements was thereconstruction of over fifty Londonchurches, following the devastation of the27

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The false-colour images in this articleshow the luminance distributionin the depicted spaces. Luminance(measured in candela per squaremetre) is an indicator for the ‘brightness’of a surface and therefore animportant quantitative measure ofthe distribution of light in a room.The human eye can adapt to widevariations in luminance: while theclear sky, on average, has a brightnessof 8000 cd/m2, a computermonitor only emits light with a luminanceof some 50-300 cd/m2.P.26–30 In the central exhibitionroom of the Museo Canoviano inPossagno, Carlo Scarpa designedthe windows as independent, plastic‘light bodies’. The cubic glass elementsnot only light up the interiorbut also produce directed glancinglight on the walls, thus emphasisingthe surface structure of plaster andnatural stone even more clearly.A luminance map showing the distributionof luminous intensities inthe room.Great Fire of 1666. Perhaps the greatestof these is the church of St. Stephen Walbrook(1672–1680). Here a simple rectangularplan is enclosed by a cross sectionthat plays upon the juxtaposition of anaisled and a centralised plan. This leadsto great complexity of space and light.The illumination from large windowsis supplemented by arched clerestoriesoriented to north, south, east and westand by the lantern that surmounts thedome. Wren was fastidious in providingthe practical illumination needed for actsof worship, but his intentions extendedbeyond the practical. As the historianKerry Downes writes of St. Stephen;“Wren considered geometry to be the basisof the whole world and the manifestation ofits Creator, while light not only made thatgeometry visible, but also represented thegift of Reason, of which geometry was forhim the highest expression.”In the building, the alternating patternsof light and shade, the sudden and briefillumination of the shaft of a column, thatreshape the space from hour to hour andfrom season to season reveal that Wren’sscientific understanding of light was fusedwith a remarkable imagination.Soane and Scarpa:poets of daylightAnother English architect whose workexhibits an imagination equal to that ofWren is Sir John Soane. He worked at thetime when the industrial revolution wastransforming the technologies of buildingand was greatly interested in these, but he,like Wren, was simultaneously engagedwith the qualitative aspects of light inarchitecture.“The ‘lumière mystérieuse’ so successfullypractised by the French artists, is a mostpowerful agent in the hands of a man ofgenius, and its power cannot be too fullyunderstood, nor too highly appreciated. Itis, however, little attended to in our architecture,and for this obvious reason, thatwe do not sufficiently feel the importanceof character in our buildings, to which themode of admitting light contributes in nosmall degree.”In the design of his house at 12–14 Lincoln’sInn Fields in the centre of London,which he occupied and transformed inthe years from 1792 until his death in 1837,Soane seized the opportunity to explorethe character of natural light to sustainboth the practical and poetic needs ofthe act of dwelling. These were met bythe richest and most diverse architecturalmeans, combining side lighting withrooflights simultaneously to achieve bothpractical and poetic ends. The library anddrawing room are interconnected spacesat the ground floor of the main body of thehouse. The library lies behind the principal,south-facing façade and the diningroom is lit from an open courtyard to thenorth. The walls of both rooms are a deepPompeian red. This absorbs much of thelight that enters, but ample compensationcomes from the arrays of large and smallmirrors that supplement and transformboth the quality and quantity of the light.Some of the most significant of these arethose that face the piers of the glazed loggiato the south and the sliding shutters atthe windows. By these means, the roomsare simultaneously sombre and sparkling,lumière mystérieuse brought to the serviceof domestic life and of architecture.Moving to examples from the twentiethcentury, Boris Podrecca has writtenthat,“In (Carlo) Scarpa’s work it is not just thephysical presence of things that transfigurestradition, but also the light, which is alumen not of tomorrow but of the past – thelight of the golden background, of the glimmeringliquid, of the ivory-coloured inlay,of luminous and shimmering fabrics recreatedin marble. It is the light of a reflectionof the world.”These qualities are fully demonstratedin the tiny addition that Scarpa built tothe Museo Canoviano at Possagno in the1950s. The composition pivots around atall cubic space lit by four trihedral cornerwindows placed at the intersection of walland roof. Two of these face west and aretall and the glazing is concave, the othersare to the east and the glass enclosure isconvex. This configuration captures lightfrom all orientations and, unlike a con-30 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

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cd/m 2200120704124148,55The ‘Heelis’ office building,which Feilden Clegg Bradleydesigned for the British NationalTrust not far from Swindon railwaystation, takes its inspirationfrom the locomotive sheds in thevicinity. The deep office areasare illuminated almost exclusivelythrough the roof ratherthan through the facades, providingviews to the sky.Luminance map showing the distributionof luminous intensitiesin the room.Previous spread Quadratic rooflights and large façade windowsilluminate the Yale Center forBritish Art by Louis Kahn.They immerse the interior in adimmed light that is typical ofEngland – the country wheremost of the paintings on showhere originated. A luminancemap showing the distribution ofluminous intensities in the room.ventional window set in a wall, casts lightacross the walls themselves. As the sunmoves around the building, the interiorand Canova’s precious and wonderfulplaster figures that it contains become animatedin the ever-changing illumination,presenting them to the observer almostas living beings. The corner window wasan invention of the modern movement;one thinks of Wright’s Prairie houses andRietveld’s Schroeder House, but Scarpa’simagination invested it with new meaningand value. Speaking about the projectin 1978, Scarpa declared, “I really lovedaylight: I wish I could frame the blue ofthe sky.” In this bejewelled building, heachieved that wish in full measure.Buildings for all purposesAs one would expect, Louis Kahn madesome of the most important contributionsin reconciling the practicalitiesand poetics of light in architecture. Anyof his mature buildings would serve todemonstrate this and I have chosen theYale Center for British Art (1969–1974).The building is an austere composition ofexposed concrete frame, clad in stainlesssteel and lined with panels of Americanoak and white plaster. It was conceived tobe daylit – “a room is not a room withoutnatural light” – and the entire roof planeis covered by a system of square rooflights.The perimeter galleries also bring in sidelightfrom carefully positioned windows.Many of the paintings in the collectionwere first hung in English country housesand they often depict English scenes underthe light of English skies. Kahn performsa remarkable trick of architecturalmagic by creating the illusion of just sucha setting under the very different skies ofConnecticut. The layered design of therooflights, which have external louvresand internal diffusing filters, subduesthe bright light to render it appropriatelysubfusc as it plays on the restrained architectureof the interior. Kahn’s extensivestudy drawings show that these effectswere the product of meticulous analysis.A living master of imaginative light isPeter Zumthor. In the sequence of buildingsthat he has built in the last quarter of acentury, he exhibits a special awareness ofhow the material of building may be fashionedto capture and project daylight inthe service of the uses of his buildings. Hehas written,“[One] of my favourite ideas is this: to planthe building as a pure mass of shadow then,afterwards to put in the light as if you werehollowing out the darkness, as if the lightwere a new mass seeping in.The second idea I like is this: to go aboutlighting materials and surfaces systematicallyand to look at the way they reflect thelight. In other words, to chose the materialsin the knowledge that they reflect andfit everything together on the basis of thatknowledge.”The translation of these ideas is wonderfullydemonstrated in the Shelter for RomanRemains at Chur, completed in 1986.This deceptively simple building consistsof three rooflit volumes that trace the outlinesof the fragmentary remains of theRoman structure. The timber-framedstructure is clad with timber lamella andthe zinc-covered roof is punctured bythree large rooflights. But this tectonicsimplicity conceals a deep understandingof the nature and behaviour of light. Thewalls are opaque to vision, but nonethelesstransmit light by the process of interreflectionthrough the lamella. The effectis to bring a diffuse glow to the interior,the light warmed by the tone of the timber.This is then dramatised and transformedby the powerful zenithal lightthat cascades from the rooflights. Thetall asymmetrical linings of the rooflightopenings are, unusually, painted blackand this starkly intensifies their light asit falls upon the pale grey gravel of thefloor. All this is a clear consequence of thearchitect’s systematic, objective considerationof the interaction between lightand material. The effect is spellbindingand original.The codification of the environmentin buildings evolved hand-in-glove withthe development of the highly engineeredbuilding types of the twentieth century.The office building is, perhaps, the mostfamiliar and, to some extent the most successfulcase in which mechanical plant35

Peter Zumthor’s shelter forRoman remains in Chur consistof three cubic structures cladwith wooden slats. Diffuse daylighttrickles into the interiorthrough the diaphanous buildingskin. The main light accents,however, are created by large‘light cannons’ in the roof,located in the centre of eachspace, diagonally to the patternof the construction.Following pages In the church ofSt. Stephen Walbrook in London,Christopher Wren combined thesymmetry and rigid geometry ofRenaissance architecture withthe metaphysics of light. Largewindows in all four facades providebasic lighting, while theclerestory windows and the lanternin the cupola cast individualrays of light that wanderthrough the interior during thecourse of the day. A luminancemap showing the distribution ofluminous intensities in the room.has become ubiquitous and artificial lighthas replaced daylight as the principal illumination.There are, however, importantexceptions to this rule. One such is theHeelis Building at Swindon in southernEngland. This is the headquarters of theNational Trust, the custodian of muchof England’s architectural heritage; thebuilding, completed in 2005, is the workof architects Feilden Clegg Bradley.The building is on the site of formerrailway yards that were first developedby the great nineteenth-century engineerIsambard Kingdom Brunel. In itsform it refers to the original industrialbuildings. It has a deep plan covered bya series of pitched roofs that provide copiousquantities of daylight and promotenatural ventilation. They also supportarrays of photovoltaic cells to generatevaluable electricity. Beneath the roof,two-storey office wings with mezzaninesalternate with double-height communaland social places. The design intentionwas to provide natural light to all theworkplaces. The simple strategy was toensure that every workplace has a directview of the sky. The standard ‘designsky’ used in quantitative design is threetimes brighter at the zenith than at thehorizon. This means that ‘skylight’ is abetter source than side lighting. In additionit is a well-understood empiricalfact of daylighting under the English skythat a view of the sky provides adequateillumination for most practical purposes.These principles are elegantly applied atthe Heelis building, where daylight factorsrange from 3 per cent beneath themezzanine floors to an average of 9 percent on the mezzanines. In the doubleheight spaces, the light is allowed freerein and is animated by patches of sunlightthat play over surfaces and bring adynamic connection with outside natureinto the heart of this deep plan building.In its practicality and artfulness the buildingbecomes an appropriate symbol of theNational Trust’s mission.Each of these buildings addresses specificand often specialised needs, be theyacts of Christian worship, dwelling in thenineteenth-century city, the display andconservation of rare neo-classical sculpture,the public display of British art inAmerica, the protection of fragile Romanremains, or the practical and social needsof corporate headquarters. In every caseobjective needs of shelter, protection andillumination are met, but what drawsthem to our attention is the manner inwhich the ordinary is made extraordinaryby acts of architectural imagination.However, this process is equally relevantin designing buildings that maybe thought to be ‘everyday’. There is almostno function in a building, institution,workplace or home, that may not be improvedby taking place in a room in whichquantitative adequacy is complementedby carefully conceived gradations of lightand shade, an awareness of the daily andseasonal cycles of the sun or the rich interplaybetween light and the form andmateriality of a room. These are thetools by which the imagination may helpus bridge the gap between Louis Kahn’smeasurable and unmeasurable. It is thusthat buildings may become works of architecture.Dean Hawkes (b. 1938) is an architect and teacher.He is emeritus professor of architectural designat the Welsh School of Architecture, Cardiff Universityand emeritus fellow of Darwin College,University of Cambridge. His books include TheEnvironmental Imagination (2008) and Architectureand Climate (to be published in 2011).His buildings have won four RIBA ArchitectureAwards. In 2011, he received the RIBA’s internationalbiennial Annie Spink Award for excellencein architectural education.38 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

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In search of ananthropologyof daylightFor centuries, architects havebeen working on ways of capturingthe magic of daylight inbuildings. They are supported inthis by a continually expandingrange of building materials.In contemporary urban environments, daylight is increasinglybeing restricted and supplemented with artificial light, resultingin a loss of connectedness to the natural environment. If ourphysiological and the psychological expectations are to be met,architecture will need to develop fresh techniques in workingwith daylight, as well as create a closer dialogue with science,in order to achieve a true state of well-being in people.By Brent RichardsPhotography by Gerry JohanssonTOWARDS THE LIGHTDaylight from a human perspective isgoverned by an intrinsic need to be in thelight and not the dark, to be in the warmthof sunlight and not the cool of shadows.This need is also governed by an innatedesire for physical and emotional interactionwith daylight. These interactions canrange from the haptic response of feelingdaylight on our skin, or sensing the pathof daylight from sunrise to sunset, to theperception of seeing the light of the skyabove or the vista beyond. 1 Daylight notonly influences the sensorial aspects inrelation to our mood – it also affects ourbehaviour and overall sense of well-being,subject to time of day and geographicalcontext.Prior to man dwelling in caves, heroamed the savannah living a nomadiclifestyle in the open, reliant on daylight tofind food and for safety from wild animals.Humans inhabited a natural world governedprecisely by the pattern of day andnight. This light and dark cycle framed theflow of daily activities and established afundamental relationship between the“Daylight does not behave in alinear fashion, but forever playsrecurrent games of days and of theseasons as the earth rotates on itsaxis and follows its orbit aroundthe sun”Ole Boumanphysiological and psychological rhythmsof man to his habitat. In many culturesthis relationship was the basis for mysticismand religious worship – and light wasconsidered sacred.When humans evolved to constructingearly buildings, they sought to reinforcethe connection with the outside world bypositioning primitive openings and windows.These purpose-built apertures providednot only access to daylight and freshair but also a symbolic interface betweeninside and outside. Furthermore, they attunedhuman dwelling habits to the dailyrituals of living and to sleep-wake cycles,synchronising the rhythms of light to thetwenty-four hour cycle.Given this fundamental symbiosisbetween humans and daylight, the languageof architecture has exploited theinterplay between the built environmentand the naturally-lit interior. Architecturehas become adept at maximisingthe comfort-giving qualities of light, emphasisingthe visual focus and connection,whilst contributing to the sense ofwell-being. Architecture’s objective hasbeen to capture, enhance and articulatedaylight using the building’s componentsto filter, reflect, mediate and redirectlight. In doing so, architects achievedcontrol over the luminosity, brightnessand contrast of light between outside andinside, as well as the relationship of lightto interior functions. This relationship todaylight has remained a strong elementthroughout the history of architecture,“The allure of daylight is that itbecomes the most enduring ofmemories, which touches ourdeepest perception and emotions,and affects our notion of time andplace. Light falling on the object ofarchitecture does not tell thewhole story; it creates an emergentand transient state thatdraws a veil over architecture’sform. Notions of space, transparency,lightness and darkness, solidand void, all emanate from thismemoryscape that stirs the sensesand brings equilibrium to ourbeing.”Brent Richards43

Modern architecture has meansof bringing daylight to almostanywhere in buildings. Thesemeans, however, are not alwaysused in such a masterly manneras in this building by Louis Kahn.“Light is matter and light is basicmaterial. Once you understandhow light varies, and varies ourperceptions, your architecturalvocabulary is immediately extended,in ways that classicalarchitecture never thought of …an architecture of ephemeralitybecomes possible.”Jean Nouveland has continued to condition our preferencefor natural daylight over artificiallight, irrespective of subsequent scientificinnovations, greater lamp efficiency andsupplementary lighting systems.CONSTRUCTING WITH LIGHTAs human civilisation has expanded fromindividually dispersed buildings to thedense mega-cities of today, the challengeand demand for daylight has becomemore and more competitive. This is trendis likely to gain greater significance as, by2020, 70% of the world’s population willlive in urbanised communities. We havebecome perpetual urban ‘cave’ dwellers,becoming increasingly remote from the‘naturalness’ of daylight (its sequencing,rhythm and rituals) and experiencing aloss in physical and emotional benefits.In part, we have successfully adaptedto this reduction and loss in daylight, byevolving new patterns of living and reconditioningour immediate environments.We have compensated throughplanning legislation (for example by restrictingbuilding heights, legislating forrights to light, and stipulating setbacks onelevations of high-rise buildings), by constructingmore of our buildings with glasselevations and supplementing their interiorswith the use of artificial light sourcesand atria. Yet despite these measures, weconsistently yearn for a return to naturaldaylight, and we have not lost the desirefor daylight to support our fundamentalactivities. In addition, it is becomingincreasingly evident that however wellcontrolled, uniformly lit and efficientartificially illuminated environmentsbecome, they lack the psychological andbiological provisions we need and fail togenerate the desired sense of well-being 2 .We desire light not only for illuminationbut also for the stimulation that can onlybe provided by the sun and daylight.Natural light changes and increasesin intensity throughout the day, and isaltered in effect by climate conditions likecloud cover and sunshine hours. Artificiallight, on the other hand, is not diverse incolour and lacks many of the phenomenologicalqualities that are characteristic ofnatural light effects, due to geographicalfeatures and proximity to water. (Considerthe typical characteristics of the soft,hazy light in Venice, for example). Thelight artist James Turrell has describedthese phenomena as “the area of spatialand optical tension” – the experience ofthe awareness of light that is more thanmerely a source of brightness. 3Given our natural need for daylight,the lack of daylight in our everyday liveshas led to an increasing range of healtheffects and unfavourable psychologicalconditions. Human behaviour is modulatedby the day/night cycle that we candirectly observe through the level of ambientlight. It is also a fact that our contemporarylives are ruled by time and thoughwe use clocks to moderate our actions, ourhuman biology is paced by our ‘circadianclock’, which determines sleep patterns,alertness, mood, blood pressure and thealignment of our experience and metabolismto night and day. Setting our bodyclock to local time is adjusted on a dailybasis by exposure to light, and a failure toengage results in a drift or ‘free running’circadian rhythms, and a disruption inthese cycles. 4Disturbances of this cycle can lead toa range of behavioural anomalies suchas sleep, eating and mood disorders, andin the winter months this can lead to depression.This range of effects suggeststhat a specific light/dark cycle exists forhumans, including temporal and spectralproperties, that optimise and contributeto well-being.The current mode of living is stronglydependent on the use of artificial light andhas tended to isolate us from nature anddaylight to a large extent, particularly incities. There is therefore a contradictionbetween our lifestyle and the ambientcues we need to maintain a balance inour health and sense of well-being.LIGHTNESS OF BEINGThe scientific findings and everyday observationsdiscussed above provide ampleevidence that there is an innate humanneed for daylight, which cannot be adequatelyfulfilled by alternative (artificial)light sources. This raises the question ofhow architecture – and specifically the44 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

Even in the era of electric light,little has changed in the basichuman need to live and work inthe light of the sun.Daylight is good for us in morethan just the optical sense –people also have an emotionalrelationship to the sun andtheir psyche and physiology arestrongly affected by it. Bothneed to be taken into accountwhen buildings are beingdesigned.design of future buildings – can be mademore responsive to the interaction betweenhumans and daylight.Architecture has so far worked withina vacuum, disconnected from scientificunderstanding about the psychologicaland behavioural effects of daylight.Rather, it has focused on its function interms of task relationships (overall Luxlevels, task lighting etc), the aestheticexpression of light and the artistic use ofdaylight to communicate architecture itself.However, as we have come to realise,daylight has a more significant impact onhuman beings. There is an urgent needfor other specialists to contribute to theactivation of daylight by promoting newpractices and methodologies for futurearchitecture. Notably, the areas of environmentalpsychology, chronobiologicaland social anthropology, neuroscienceand visual neuroscience are all key areasfor architecture to engage with – andwithout delay.However, for this transdisciplinary developmentto take place, the relationshipbetween science/research and architecture/practicehas to be better facilitated.These two fields have traditionally beentwo sides of the same coin, but containedin their separate professional silos andonly meeting through the use of technologyand the application of buildingcomponents and products. Science asksquestions and, through focused research,develops a pragmatic examination withoutnecessarily finding answers or conclusivesolutions. Architecture, on the otherhand, straddling the science and the arts,is based on a trial-and-error approachand on a sequencing of responses thatare iterative and proactive. Often architecturerequires leaps of faith to redefinethe known, and relies on creative intuitionrather than scientific reasoning.Clearly one of the main challengesis the greater promotion of ‘knowledgetransfer’ between the worlds of scientists,daylight specialists, psychologists andneuroscientists on the one hand and thearchitectural profession on the other. Thelatter will have to become more diverseand take on the task of integrating builtform, building construction and the overallenvironment into a controlled but aestheticsolution. There is little doubt thatarchitecture could have a greater positiveeffect on the built environment and havea more substantially influence on humanwell-being in terms of rhythms, behaviourand mood. However, what is neededif this is to happen is a flow of ideas andknowledge both ways, from scientists toarchitects and vice versa, to allow knowledgetransfer to take place every day, andfor the effects of daylight to be studied ingreater depth. So far, it seems that we havehardly begun to scratch the surface of thenon-visual effects of light on the body andcognitive system. This is exciting and significantnew territory to be explored andexploited.All these considerations have majorimplications for architects and lightingdesigners. The first is that lighting inbuildings can no longer be consideredsolely in terms of its effects on the builtform and on space, i.e. its visual effects.The non-visual effects are just as real– and just as essential. In addition, thespectral effects have to be taken into account.Light is not only a source of naturalenergy in the physical sense, but its duration,intensity and spectral compositionhave a decisive influence on the circadiansystem, which has evolved alongside ourhuman visual system for thousands ofyears. Artificial light, however well-conceived(and to be naturalistic it has to bedesigned as natural white light) has onlybeen available for a short time and hasnot therefore had the same impact on ourphysiology.The second consideration is that architecturecannot be designed on generalprinciples or non-specific locations,but rather has to be designed with veryspecific coordinates in mind. Buildingshave to be related not only to orientationbut also to latitude, in order to optimiseexposure to light, to the number of sunlighthours in their specific location, tothe proximity of natural features likewoodlands, lakes and the sea, and opennessof the site.Thirdly, as architects we should beprioritising highly-lit spaces in buildings,such as sun seats in bay windows and sun48 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

Even in introverted buildings,daylight can establish an importantlink to nature. Its variabilityand continuous changes havea positive connotation in humanperception and are very difficultto emulate with artificial light.shafts in deeper spaces, and integratinggreater exposure to daylight, particularlyin dwelling/living spaces to significantlyincrease levels of daylight.A FUTURE VISIONArchitecture’s connectedness to lighthas always been both physical and aesthetic.Architects have used daylight toaccentuate and focus on the articulationof architectural language, or to dematerialisethe building elements to counteractmateriality and promote spatiality, as apoetic intersection between place andspace making. 5Modern architecture has been preoccupiedwith capturing the physical propertiesof daylight and liberating light andspace. Using glass as the basic buildingmaterial, the architects of Modernismaddressed the notion of connectedness.This can be seen in works such as BrunoTaut’s Glass pavilion at the Werkbund exhibitionin Cologne (1914), Mies van derRohe’s Tugendhat House in Brno (1928),his German Pavilion in Barcelona (1929)and Pierre Chareau’s Maison de Verre inParis (1931). Other well-known examplesare Le Corbusier’s Villa Savoye in Poissy(1931) and Mies van der Rohe’s FarnsworthHouse in Illinois (1946). These architectssuccessfully explored daylight interms of reflections, transparency, translucencyand luminosity, and worked empiricallytowards a ‘dematerialisation’ ofarchitecture to reach a sublime space.In the second half of the twentieth century,a range of internationally acclaimedarchitects such as Rafael Moneo, Toyo Ito,Stephen Holl, Peter Zumthor, Herzog &de Meuron, Erick van Egeraat, SANAAand John Pawson extended this preoccupationwith dematerialising space byfocusing on the phenomenology experienceof daylight itself, seeking to capturea metaphysical response to architecture.So far, architects’ concern for daylighthas been driven by a need to control theindoor climate, to maintain comfort, andto penetrate the shell of the interior spaceto admit light. The primary interface andfilter for daylight, has been the window.Glass permitted the window to fuse intothe architectonic form, to provide enclosure,to control indoor temperature andto transmit and celebrate the qualitiesand benefits of daylight. Glass has alsobeen the measure of how individual architectshave related their architecturalvision to the well-being and comfort ofusers and inhabitants.In contemporary terms, the windowshave now become the building, and glassthe interface for future engagementbetween daylight and living, betweenthe physical and the psychological, betweencomfort and well-being. Buildingon the legacy of Frank Lloyd Wright andMies van der Rohe to present day PeterZumthor, we are now seeing a new eraof humane and sustainable architecture.This era speaks of the architect as a professionalpolymath, capable of embracingcomplexity and change; and as a humanitarianwho is concerned with the value ofdaylight as a life-giving substance.We now need to initiate advancedresearch into a new field that we mightcall the ‘anthropology of daylight’, or the‘culture of transparency’ in all buildings,and to seize the opportunity to enjoy agreater sense of well-being. But in doingso, we must also recognise that this taskcannot be left to architects alone. We needteams of specialists to contribute andexpand our knowledge and develop newmethodologies and carry out live ratherthan laboratory experiments. It is timeto conceive of buildings that totally embracedaylight for its power and energy,for its visual delight and beauty, and forits healthy environmental effects.After all, daylight is freely available and,as far as we can judge, timeless, and theonly truly sustainable way to live in thefuture.Brent Richards is an architect, designer, academic,and polymath. He is currently CEO of TheDesign Embassy Europe, a transdisciplinary creativeconsultancy in London that focuses onarchitecture, spatial design and experiential environments.Brent is also Principal – Europe & Scandinavia,of Transpolis Global – Urban Designers andArchitects. He has conducted pioneering work onthe advanced use of glass technology, for which hewas awarded the International Benedictus Award(USA) in 1995 by Du Pont and the American Instituteof Architects (AIA).References1. Alexander, C. (1979): ‘The Timeless Way of Building’,Oxford University Press – ‘Patterns which arealive’ (p. 111)2. Heerwagen, J.H. (1990): ‘Affective Functioning,Light Hunger and Room Brightness Preferences’. In:Environment and Behavior, 22 (5), p. 608-6353. Turrell, J. (2009): ‘Geometry of Light‘, HatjeCantz Verlag (p. 21)4. Foster, R.G. (2011): ‘Body Clocks, Light, Sleep andHeath’, in: Circadian and Visual Neuroscience5. Richards, B. (2006): ‘Space Light and Transformation– Glass Architecture for the 21st Century’Laurence King Publishers51

Architecture&DaylightEvery building has to mediate a new between a specific site with itsclimate and daylight, and universal human needs. How this can be donesuccessfully is shown on the following pages by four architects’ officesfrom all over the world: Will Bruder from Phoenix, SANAA from Tokyo,Jarmund/Vigsnæs from Oslo and Lacaton & Vassal from Paris.The be-all and end-all of design – especially when it comes to workingwith daylight – is always the human being. Why this is so is illustrated succinctlyby the photographs by Thekla Ehling, which visualise the buildingsof the four architects in their interaction with the user. The multi-facettedmanifestations of life that are apparent in the illustrations are impossibleto foresee during the design process. However, architects can give spaceto them in their buildings and thus ensure that they exert a really sustainedeffect on people and the environment.52 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 1553

“We wanted the ceiling surfaces inthe building to be completely undisturbed.The ceiling changes constantlywith the changes in daylight.”Sanaa”Mind you, light is something thatthere is not too much of in Norway,especially in winter. Also, the lightoften comes in at low angles and itis quite an architectural challengeto bring this light into buildings.”Håkon WigsnæsJarmund/Wigsnæs”Daylight relates to lightness, to feelingthe climate, to being very closeto your environment. We alwaystry to use the building elementsthat will allow us to maximise theamount of daylight in a building.”Anne LacatonLacaton&Vassal”Your eye is drawn up along the surfaceof the building, towards the line whereit kisses the sky. And that line tellsyou everything. […] Our best buildingsare the ones that form a perfectdialogue between shadow and light,and between the earth and the sky.”Will BruderWill BruderAgave Library, PhoenixA narrow budget and a muddledurban context were the startingpoints for this library building in asuburb of Phoenix. Will Bruderdesigned an open hall that is madeof bare, industrially manufacturedmaterials and that acquires itsunique character primarily throughdaylight and relatedness to theadjoining desert garden.SANAARolex Learning Center,LausanneLibrary, auditorium, workplace,cafeteria – the Rolex LearningCenter of the Ecole PolytechniqueFéderale de Lausanne (EPFL) ismany things combined. All thesefunctions are gathered together in asingle space 166 × 121 metres insize that the architects have turnedinto an adventure landscape withinner courtyards, hills and valleys.Jarmund/VigsnæsTurtagrø Hotel, SognefjelletThe hotel is located in the cradle ofNorwegian alpinism and replaces abuilding that was burned down in2001. The roof silhouette of thebuilding, which is half house, halftower, imitates the shapes of thesurrounding mountain range.Recessed deeply into the building,the large windows symboliseclosed-off security and an opennessto the outside world – twoextremes that Jarmund/Vigsnæsattempt to reconcile in all theirdesigns.Lacaton & VassalLow-income housingcomplex, MulhouseProviding a great deal of space andlight with a limited budget – this isthe goal pursued by Lacaton &Vassal in all their projects. Theirbuilding complex in Mulhousecombines 14 single-family houses,whose upper floors consist ofgreenhouses made of steel andpolycarbonate. Living room, diningroom, bedroom and garage are eachpart of a spatial continuum thatstretches out over two floors andover the entire approximately18-metre depth of the complex.54 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 1555

WILLBRUDER

“Light definesthe journeyof our lives”For the last 40 years, the American architect Will Bruder has been livingand working in Phoenix, Arizona. His architecture is a reflection of thesurrounding desert landscape, its shapes and colours, and its daylight. Ina conversation with Daylight & Architecture, Will Bruder explains howdaylight connects people – to each other, to their surroundings, to nature,to time and to the universe.Interview with Will BruderPhotography by Thekla EhlingWill Bruder, it is now 6 a.m. in Phoenix,Arizona, where you live and work. Is earlymorning your favourite time of day?Yes, it is. I usually get up around 5:00 a.m.because I like to see the first light and thesun rise. I am energised by the light, andthe time around sunrise is my best andmost creative time of the day. However, aswe are currently approaching the shortestday of the year, the sun has not risen yet – itwill be more than an hour until it does.Is there such a thing as an architecture forthe dark seasons of the year?I first saw Alvar Aalto’s work, back in theearly ‘90s, during a few days in February.I realised then that Aalto’s architecture isas much about the light of day as it is aboutthe absence of light in the Scandinavianwinter darkness. In this extended dusk,these buildings become not only ‘lanterns’to the communities that they serve, butalso ‘sky catchers’ to amplify the littlelight that is there during the cusp of nolight. It was very informative: everyonetalks about Alvar Aalto’s architecture inthe summer, but being there in the winterreminded me a lot about the subtletiesof the light and the dark – the greysin between.You built most of your buildings in Arizona,a landscape that is very different from theone Aalto worked in. What makes this landscapeand the daylight that belongs to it sospecial?The landscape here in Arizona is verymuch defined by its edge. It is a desert,yet it is very lush and has a lot of vegetation.Therefore the air is so clear that youcan always see the horizon, even if it is 70miles or further away. This is even true ofthe city of Phoenix, where I live and workat my studio. Moreover, the colour of thelight and the shadows on the surroundingmountains always tell me what timeof the day it is.What gives the desert light around you itsclarity?Due to the vegetation, there is relativelylittle particulate matter in the air. This isvery different from other desert places,such as in the large cities of the ArabianPeninsula, where your field of vision oftenends at the edge of the city. On theother hand, there is enough particulatematter in the air to substantially softenthe light. This is due to our relatively lowaltitude. Further up in the atmosphere,in more mountainous places, the air ismuch clearer and the light becomes verystrident, almost crystalline.Sun angles also dramatically influencethe light quality in Arizona. Due to our lowlatitude, there are about four months insummer where sunlight will graze thenorth face of a building. All of these factorshave a great influence on our architecture.In the desert, light is as powerfula material as anything that you can workwith as an architect.”The air is so clear that you canalways see the horizon, even if it is70 miles or further away. This iseven true of the city of Phoenix,where I live and work at my studio.Moreover, the colour of the lightand the shadows on the surroundingmountains always tell me whattime of the day it is.”58 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 59

Previous spread Almost theentire southern facade of thelibrary opens onto the adjacentdesert garden on the level of theground floor. Slender steel columnshold the solid brickworkwall that makes up the upperpart of the facade.Right Will Bruder compares thelibrary with an ‘open book’ inwhich architecture can be readand understood. Nearly all elementsof the interior, includingthe in-house technical equipment,are visible; hardly anythinghas been pannelled over..”When you build in a place of light,you cannot disguise any defect orany imperfection of the construction.All qualities – good and bad,the truth of the wall – are revealedby the power of the light.”60How do your buildings react to the light ofArizona?I had an early experience with the lighthere that left a lasting impression on me.Having grown up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin,I first came to the Arizona desert asa young man, in my early 20s, to workwith Paolo Soleri in his Cosanti Studios.Later in my apprenticeship, I worked ona small gymnasium for a school – a verysimple building constructed essentiallyof masonry blocks. It was not part of theprogramme to bring daylight into thebuilding. Yet one day, I walked into thehalf-finished building when the wallswere already up and the precast concreteT slabs of the roof were in place. Itwas solar noon, and the light was comingright from above. Since there wasno insulation or roofing on the buildingyet, there was a slight gap – maybe halfan inch – between the roof slabs and themasonry walls. Through this gap the daylightentered, bleeding all the way downthe wall to the ground, and showing everynuance of the texture of the blockwork. Irealised that with this simple structure,a ‘temple’ had been created. It was themost amazing room I could have dreamtof having made.Just one week later, I came back to theconstruction site. By then the roof wason, and the ‘temple’ had been darkenedforever. But I kept the memory of this experiencealive until, several decades later,I started designing the Phoenix CentralLibrary and had the chance of re-creatingthe ‘temple’. The effect created throughthe use of daylight is virtually the samehere – by intention, not accident. Precastconcrete wall panels each eight feet wideand almost without textural imperfections,flank the large reading room. Herethere is an intentional six-inch gap betweenthe roof and these walls. In normallight, the walls look perfectly smooth andflat. At solar noon, however, when the sunpasses over the building and bathes thewalls in light, every imperfection is revealedand transformed into a beautifullandscape ‘painting’. The walls becomethe most interesting irregular surfacesin the path of the light that tracks acrossthem. Yet when the sun passes, the wallslook perfect again. This taught me thatwhen you build in a place of light, youcannot disguise any defect or any imperfectionof the construction. All qualities– good and bad, the truth of the wall – arerevealed by the power of the light.Some fifteen years after Phoenix CentralLibrary, you recently completed the newAgave Library, which is also documentedin the photographs on these pages. Whatideas about daylight, material and spaceguided you in the design of this building?Like Phoenix Central Library, the AgaveLibrary combines a simple, pragmaticsolution with the poetry of light. Thereare three primary architectural elementsthat determine this building. The first isthe urbanistic idea of a large scrim that isboth sculptural and structural and givesthe library an important civic presence.It functions like the ‘false front’ of an OldWest building, making the library morevisible behind the suburban strip buildingsadjacent to the site.The scrim was also inspired by the legacyof the drive-in theatres that stood ashuge canvases in the middle of the naturallandscape of rural America. It is made ofsections of galvanized metal channelsmounted on a warping cantilevered steelframe.On the scrim, the word ‘Agave’ is writtenin huge letters, with the same reflectiveplastic film that is commonly used forfreeway signs. Whenever the light hitsthe scrim at certain angles, passers-byare able to read the name of the building.And not only then. There have been dayswhen I have flown in to Phoenix early inthe morning or late in the afternoon, andwas able to read the word ‘Agave’ lookingout of the plane window, from an altitudeof five thousand feet. That was a prettypowerful experience.The second basic design element is thebuilding itself, and the desert garden onits south side to which it is closely connected.The library building is a simplemasonry volume that achieves itsarchitectural expression through veryrigorous articulation of concrete blockmasonry units and daylight apertures.For the exterior walls, we used aggre-

On the inside, Will Bruder combinedtwo important sources ofdaylight: circular skylights forthe diffuse basic lighting andvertical wall slits in the southernfacade in order to projectsharply contoured ‘light beams’onto the floor.gate blocks in a slightly greenish colour,to blend in with the landscape. Howeverthese blocks are not laid in a traditionallycoursed manner, but post-tensionedwith steel rods. This allowed us to go beyondthe idea of a traditional, flat wall.On the north side, facing the car park,we introduced vertical slots in the wallat pedestrian level, and ‘wobbled’ entiresections of blocks out of the plane of thewall to create an almost Mondrian-likepattern of surfaces and (shadow) lines onthe façade.The south front of the building is theexact inverse. Here, a massive block wallappears to float on glass. The façade isentirely glazed at pedestrian level, withonly slender steel columns holding upthe pre-tensioned blockwork above. Youthus enter the building through its closednorth facade, only to find that it opens upin total transparency to the unexpectedjoy of the garden on its south side. Theapertures in the wall above are all aboutselectively sculpting the light to enter thebuilding, and about capturing this amazingoverall panorama of spaciousness towardsthe garden. The garden becomesone with the library.The third design idea is about the interiorof the building, which is essentiallyone continuous space that all revolvesaround an elliptical white service desk,and a suspended sky lit sculpture at itscentre. Agave Library is rather unique inAmerica in that it has only one point ofservice, which is visible from all parts ofthe building and from which one can seeall the different areas at once.In the interior, as on the facades, thelibrary presents itself as a simple, industrial‘box’ with exposed masonry andframing. The timber structure of the roofis all visible, along with the ducts that runthrough and below it, and is enhanced bythe daylight coming in through the skylightsabove it. Throughout the building,we employed two different kinds ofdaylight openings: on the one hand, theskylights, to bring in diffuse light, and onthe other, the vertical slits in the facades,which allowed us to ‘paint’ with boldstrokes of light on the interior walls andfloors.To what extent does Agave Library build onearlier experience you made with PhoenixCentral Library?The ‘familial bonds’ between the twobuildings, I think, are evident – you couldsay that Phoenix Central Library is theparent and Agave Library is the child.Both buildings share the same intuitivesimplicity. Both are like open books inwhich to ‘read’ architecture; they are honestexpressions of their construction tothe core, and almost case studies for theusers on how a building functions. Yetboth buildings share the same poetic qualitythat comes from the careful sculptingof material and light. They enhance ourperception of daylight and how it revealsthe subtleties of the desert beyond.You were originally trained as a sculptor,and were influenced by the great Americanland artists such as Robert Irwin, JamesTurrell and Walter de Maria. In what waysis this reflected in your architecture?I am very much attracted by the dialoguebetween the pragmatic of making things,and the poetic of experiencing them. Ialways work to let the ordinary becomethe extraordinary. Whether I work witha concrete block, a piece of wood or with‘ordinary’ light, the key question is always,“how do you transform that ordinary thinginto spaces and memories that achievethe sense of something extraordinary?”.Another aspect is how my buildingsrelate to their surroundings. When youlook across the Arizona desert, your firstperception is of how the buildings emergefrom the earth. Your eye is drawn up alongthe surface of the building, towards theline where it kisses the sky. And that linetells you everything. This phenomenon iscommon to the desert places of the world,whether it is Morocco, the Middle East orArizona. Our best buildings are the onesthat form a perfect dialogue betweenshadow and light, and between the earthand the sky.What influence do issues such as daylightand views have on your residential buildings?Again, let me answer with a concreteexample. The Hill/Shepard Residence,”I am very much attracted by thedialogue between the pragmaticof making things, and the poetic ofexperiencing them. I always workto let the ordinary become theextraordinary. Whether I workwith a concrete block, a piece ofwood or with ‘ordinary’ light, thekey question is always, ‘how doyou transform that ordinary thinginto spaces and memories thatachieve the sense of somethingextraordinary?’.”63

The library screens itself offfrom its surroundings with apermeable scrim composed ofhundreds of individual metalsections. At the same time, thishuge ‘canvas’ endows the buildingwith presence in its commercialenvironment.”Workers’ attitudes and thepatterns of work environments aredefinitely changed by the creativeuse of light.”which we designed back in 1993, is locatedin a mountainous district of Phoenix.Less than one kilometre away from thehouse – and half a kilometre above it – isa mountaintop, which became a sort of focalpoint for the views from the residence.The entry sequence is along an east-westaxis, from street level up an exterior staircaseof stone treads and simple walls ofconcrete block with weeping mortar.This mortar both catches light and castsshadows in a dynamic pattern differentlythroughout the day and the seasons. Themain living and dining room has a skylightaperture that also runs east-west. It functionslike a kind of sundial that indicatesthe time of day.In the more private quarters of thehouse, we placed a series of smaller apertures,all of them square in format. Tome, these are not windows but rather likeapertures of a camera lens. Our intentionwith them was to provide the owners witha new experience of their surroundings,which would otherwise only appear as afamiliar environment. We did not definethe position of these windows in the designphase, but merely put a note in thedrawings saying that 13 windows wouldbe placed later. Once the timber framestructure of the house was up and the plywoodsheeting put on the walls, I walkedthrough the house with the owner coupleand their son to decide where to put thesewindows. I had a hammer and a large nailwith me and wherever we considered itappropriate to have an opening, I wouldput a nail-hole in the wall through whichwe would look out, and discuss whetherthe position was right. In this way weplaced, amongst others, a 30-inch windowright next to the floor in the libraryof the house, a 10-inch window exactlyat eye level, next to where Linda – theowner – would later have her desk, anda 3-inch square at the line of the ceiling.These windows are like paintings on thewall, but they are not static – they are living‘art’ windows.This is rather an unusual way to determinethe fenestration of a building. Why was thenumber of windows decided beforehand?It just seemed an appropriate number.Putting too many of these apertures inthe building would have meant that youlose the power of discovery. If you had toofew of them, you would not realise thatthere was something happening at all. Besides,we had a budget that was somewhatlimited.When I recently remodelled a formermovie theatre into an art museum inScottsdale, Arizona, I took a similar approachusing inexpensive standard roofwindows to light up the exhibition space.The placement strategy here was a rationaland organised plan study, calculatingorientation, size, and sun angle effects onthe spaces and adjacent wall surfaces.In art galleries, there is always this discussionabout whether the daylight willpotentially harm the works of art. Yet if welook at the great museums of the world –like Louis Kahn’s Kimbell Art Museum orPeter Zumthor’s Art Museum in Bregenz– we all know what natural light can meanto art. So we convinced the director of themuseum in Scottsdale to allow small aperturesinto the roof. With only 2,000 dollarsout of our 2-million budget having beendedicated to these apertures, we wentto Home Depot, bought eleven standard,150-dollar skylights and put them intothe galleries. Sometimes they are coveredduring exhibitions, sometimes not. Theeffect that they create is simply amazing.What buildings, other than your own, andwhat places have particularly inspired youdue to their daylight conditions?It is interesting to stand in a street in Manhattan,with the orientation of the citygrid, to look across the city between theEast River and the Hudson and observehow these canyons of buildings funnelthe light across the passage of the day. Thelight that I find in a place is always a greatsource of inspiration to me, but this is byno means limited to urban architecture.Last fall, I was driving through Indiana,in the American Midwest, looking attobacco barns. These vernacular shedswhere tobacco is dried are very porousbuildings, with open joints between thesiding boards on all sides to let the airpass through and dry the tobacco leaveshanging inside. Once inside these buildings,you will find that they are totally remarkablein the dynamic quality of howthey filter and capture the light. They areuniquely beautiful like a Gothic cathedraland their beauty is of the unintentionaland ordinary becoming remarkable.Apart from its purely visual aspects, whatis the significance of daylight to you?Light defines the journey of our lives. Youcan already experience this by watchingthe path of the sun in a room. Right now,I am sitting in our office space, whichwas formerly a dance studio. Originallythe space had only one window, whichfaced east. I added another opening inthe north facade, right next to my drawingboard, and five small skylights in the roof.The window in the east is the one throughwhich we greet the day, but the skylightstell us when it is winter outside and whenit is summer. During daytime, we shadethe east window with a perforated scrim,but the skylights still provide enough lightto energise the space and yet not make ita hot room.Through this design, we realise theadded value of not just perceptional butfunctional light that comes at no cost.Also, workers’ attitudes and the patternsof work environments are definitelychanged by the creative use of light.64 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

SANAA

A SPATIALINVITATION TOPRESENCEFar from all the possibilities ofuse in the building are predetermined.As is often the case in thearchitecture of SANAA, manyareas are not concretely defineduntil the users are present.In the best work of the Japanese architectural firm SANAA, daylightforms architectural space. Their work advances a new relationshipbetween structure and light that offers a distinct spatial/daylightidentity, a diversity of connections between inside and outside, anda strong awareness of context and its spatial potential.By Per Olaf Fjeld.Photography by Thekla EhlingGlancing out of my corner window overlookinga dimly lit street in the centre ofOslo, I watch a neighbour slowly cross theroad avoiding the icy patches and makinga quick second check for passing cars. It isa specific urban scene in a Nordic winterlight, but inside, the light at my desk isfrom the laptop. It emits the same bluesubmissive rays that illuminate desks,trains, buses, and teenagers’ rooms afterbedtime all over the world, but do we regardit as a source of light? The perceptionof one’s immediate physical world and thedifferentiation of its various layers growincreasingly complex when technologyand the global world of commoditiesfunction as one. Each new technologicalobject rapidly becomes part of the backdropto everyday life; equally the frameworkaround modern life and its lightis also transforming and shifting focus,without scale, floating between publicand private.And then… there is Japan ever soslightly playing technology’s potentialin another key. Perhaps the country hasbeen able to encapsulate at least some oftechnology’s global sprawl. Instinctively,but at the same time collectively, the Japaneseknow when to move forward andwhen to pull back. The human aspectswithin the public domain of everyday lifestill actively retain and support traditions,services, handcrafts, access to natural settingsand room for contemplation. All thisthrives within a busy modern society andits technology. There seems to be a tacitshared understanding of what is importantfor the common good. The builtenvironment, even in the most denselypopulated urban areas, is curiously ableto retain a human scale, and within thismulti-layered urban society, there is aclear discipline in relation to private andpublic space. The accessibility and diversityof the public domain ensure thatindividual private space remains verycontained. The common denominator inthis situation is a clear frame of referencedirected towards nature.The architectural office SANAA mirrorsan image of modern Japan. The office is acommon ground embracing architecture,where the individual talent respects thevalue of the group. It gains its strengthand vitality through an ongoing, longtermquestioning into the core of architecture,its integrity, and the essential roleof daylight within this complexity. It is nota search for light and shadow pressed intoan artistic expression or entertainment,but rather a focus on light’s potential asa spatial condition that enriches or furtherinterprets well-being. However, torelease its inherent spatial energy, humanparticipation is a necessity. The spatialpresence and the time aspect of the inhabitantwork together as a situation, onethat also generates a social awareness. Itis a very precise architecture where thereis nothing to add or subtract. At the sametime, the work as a spatial object containsa sense of absence that unobtrusively entreatsparticipation. It is not completebefore it connects to its user, whether amuseum spectator, a home owner or justa person passing by, and it is the daylightboth inside and outside that serves as aconnector.Light, structure and theinhabitantFor daylight to form architectural space,as is found in much of SANAA’s work, thephysical form must offer a unique relationshipbetween structure and light inwhich one’s perception of mass changes.In a number of projects the use of manyslim steel columns stitches together avery open yet defined spatial integrity.Here, the key issue is that the thin structuralcolumns collectively offer a differentrelationship between structure, shadow,and daylight. It is clearly the light thatestablishes the space, and not the physicalityof the column and its shadow. Inthis translucent mutable space, daylightsets the conditions, and transforms thespatial sequences over and over again. Forthe user this situation is open to new interpretations,and there is a fluctuation offocus between the inhabitant’s presenceand the space set by light.It is important to stress that daylightis not the only element vital in formingspatial context in SANAA’s built work.Plants, trees, grass and rocks, new additionsor existing elements, are understoodand treated with the same precision. TheJapanese relationship to nature and architecturalculture is, although modified, still73

At the borders between insideand outside, light is continuouslyrefracted and reflected in newways. Depending on the time ofday and the weather, the interiorand exterior are sometimes partof a continuum and sometimesclearly separated from eachother optically.very present in their work. But, the officebrings changes and a shift in focus. Definitionsof protection, comfort, the view, lightand time are reshuffled and weighed inagain. The results offer a dense spatial energythat demands a user in present time.An informed sensitivity towards natureencompasses far more than focusing onprotection from natural forces, servinghumans, or storage of commodities. Thearchitects do not shy away from this complexity,nor do they separate daylight fromnature’s integrity.Inside, OutsideMuch of SANAA’s work reveals a deep concernwith strengthening and uncoveringthe latent potential found in connectingthe interior to the ever changing contextof the exterior. The border between theinside and outside may be understoodone day as absolute, and later, under anotherlight condition, the same border isinterpreted as diffuse. Once inside, theroom’s spatial energy holds the user’sconcentration and sets in motion his participation,but what unfolds outside stillinfluences how the interior is perceived.Different light conditions created by thisinterplay shape a variety of spatial sequences.These in turn affect the way theinhabitant moves and utilizes the interior.It is a diversity arranged through daylight,and the given programme and the client’sbrief serve only as a base or outline for thisspatial diversity.The open interior courts often foundin SANAA’s work perform as mediatorsbetween the interior and the exterior,between culture, set programmes andnature. In addition to allowing daylightto enter deep into the spatial fabric, thecourts also sustain a spatial condition oftheir own. Therefore, there is no competitionbetween the building and the particularspatial identity of each court andits light. Much of this is achieved througha very careful choice of materials and aconsideration of each material’s capacityto enhance or change the quality of light. Awide range of glass materials from transparentto opaque to individual ceramicprint patterns is used to filter and alterlight. The complex relationship of layersbetween inside and outside directly influencesthe interior space and its light. Butthis also changes and influences how thesurrounding landscape is perceived fromthe interior. The façade and its materialare regarded as a resistance force with thecapacity to abstract the view. The substanceof the façade is not a determinantof the border, but an activator.Light through space ratherthan through technologyThe use of technology as a means to gainprecision in relation to natural light hasa long architectural tradition, particularlyin Japan. But the impact and influenceof modern technology and its globalmarketing on today’s architecture is farmore complicated and layered. Unfortunately,over the past decades technologyhas often been used as compensation forthe inability to draw out a maximum energyfrom the relationship between builtspace and natural light. What is at firstunderstood as energized space is in facta conglomerate of the latest fittings, lightingand imagery, and this spatial experienceseldom ages well. SANAA’s work isalso very technologically oriented, but itis controlled and directed towards a clearspatial end. The technology will grow outdated,but the spatial strengths and everchangingnatural light give the work itsindividuality and respond to a contextin transformation. This focus overridestechnology’s aging process and insteadputs pressure on and questions how aproduct responds to a given spatial task.The 21st Century Museum of ContemporaryArt in Kanazawa reveals some ofthese important elements. The differentexhibition rooms, the interior/exteriorcourts, and the interstitial spaces betweenthe programmed spaces offer a layeredspatial variety where the visitor createshis or her own sequential path. The daylightroom of the artist James Turrell isclearly integrated into the centre of thisspatial fabric, and serves as a moveablestill life, a chamber of light open to thesky. Daylight, evening light, the moon andstars at night rehearse an endless story.Each visit is different. Rain, wind, strayleaves and snow also participate in thisroom, but the actual opening is pure light.Each visit is unique, and the depth and intensityof the experience rely on nature, itslight and the individual. Another elementwithin the museum’s spatial concerns isthe relationship to the ground. The floorand the earth’s surface are the same. Theearth as a base sets an inescapable context.The museum’s horizon is the earth’s horizon,not an illusory one designated by asecond or third floor.Of SANAA’s built work outside Japan,the Rolex Learning Centre reveals manyof the same spatial interactions foundin the Kanazawa museum, but they arediscussed anew. Light is still manipulatedthrough structure and material, but thesection of the building has an active relationto the ground. The looping formoffers a continuous spatial sequencethrough movement. The inhabitant isboth on the earth and hovering above it.This generates interesting consequencesin terms of context. Since the spatialpath floats above the site, there is a slightdisconnect between the horizon and theground, which also directs and influenceshow the building interacts with its surroundings.The adjacent exterior spacefinds definition not only through its confrontationwith the new facades or fromone façade to another, but also from theinterstitial spaces created by the movementof the user and the light courts setby the loop.Light as part of the existingcontextRespect for and comprehension of contextare key to SANAA’s creative approach, astheir work also attempts to highlight thequalities of existing buildings and theirsurroundings. Destruction or a “cleanslate” is not an issue, rather there is a focusupon finding strategies that have thecapacity to both explore and strengthenwhat is already in place, and this includespre-existing light conditions. Their transformationof the Japanese pavilion for the7th International Architecture Biennalein Venice (2000) was beautifully handled.There was essentially no hierarchyin the architects’ assessment of what isand what is to come; thus their response74 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

Library, café, working spaceand auditorium – many functionsare incorporated togetherin this building. Interior walls fordemarcating them were neededalmost nowhere. Only the ‘wavecrests’ and ‘troughs’ visuallydivide the interior into differentsections.Following pages The interiorcourtyards play an importantrole in the overall concept ofthe building. They not only providethe adjacent spaces withlight but, due to their differentsizes, they also determine thefeeling of proximity or distancebetween them.to the site was layered, fluid, questioning,and reached out to the public.However in some of SANAA’s workabroad, the interaction between the existingcontext and the new structure lacksperhaps some of the unique precision thatis so fascinating in their work at home.To a certain degree, The New Museumof Contemporary Art in New York illustratesthis enigma. The building reachesout with all its tangible and intellectualvulnerability, and New York is unable torespond with equal openness. It would beeasy to blame the lack of energy on the actualmuseum building, but I do not thinkthis is a constructive response. The situationtouches upon a deeper architecturalissue about how well architecture travels.The notion of permanence and how it isunderstood in Japanese culture differsfrom the West, and this is an importantelement in understanding contemporaryJapanese urban space. SANAA’s work revealsan architectural precision that definesa spatial openness which is able toaccommodate an ever- changing contextand its light. On one level Western cities,New York included, are stuck in an imageof permanence, and as such their architectureremains an object acting on andreacting to this image, and the potentialof their interstitial spaces also remainstied to this process.Layered light, private and publicSANAA’s architecture demands and initiatesnew relationships between publicand private, not just in official buildings,but also in private homes and apartments.In urban Japan, the private zone is alwaysdefined by and cognizant of its adjacentpublic zones. Conversely, these commonor shared spaces also define theiridentity through the private zones. It isinevitable in Tokyo and other large citiesthat the limitations and minimal sizes ofbuilding sites for private homes promotea layered and abstract, but just the samereciprocal, sense of space. An awarenessof this condition and its spatial capacityhas inspired many Japanese architectsover the years, including SANAA. It is oftenthe interstitial zone between publicdaylight and private daylight that playsa crucial role in their architectural compositionsas a whole. In the small 1997 M.House in Tokyo, where the entire site isexcavated, there is a spatial zone that canbe regarded as private, but the site takesits visual stimuli and energy from the adjacentpublic zone.Once inside a house or apartment, theinhabitant has to face an intimate anddirect relationship between body andspace. This is a Japanese reality. Individualprivacy is more a mental space, aroom that originates from within the user,and SANAA’s domestic work reflects thiscondition. Each specific space finds an extensionthrough its communication withother spaces. Whether inside or outside,each space is part of a larger sequence ofconnecting context, both private and public.Daylight is always present, and servesas a mediator with the potential to changeand manipulate, through layering, the interiorlight’s intensity and colour. This isvery evident in their small private homes.Within this layered interior, personalobjects become active instruments. Theform of a chair or the placement of a tableor object can easily change the spatialsequence and its light, but reflexively it isalso the spatial sequence that limits thenumber of objects.A new twistThe American architect Louis I Kahn oftentalked in his classroom about “orderis”, and he said that after many attemptsto describe order as content he gave upand simply stated “order is”. But he alsoadded that order in this sense can never beregarded as a static instrument, but ratheras one with a capacity to change in accordancewith the desired relationshipsbetween body and space. In the best workof SANAA, I experience an awareness of, orrather a sensitivity to, an order that generatesnew relationships between structure,shadow and light. Daylight becomesthe space, but it is shaped with precisionthrough a structural lightness. In some oftheir work, I have sensed a new twist to“order is”, and it was a very strong architecturalexperience. These spaces are notdemanding, but are rather strangely alluring,since they offer an ever-changingspatial context that blurs the relationshipbetween private and public, and betweeneverlasting and present. Yet, these spacesare also generous enough to house thevulnerable private inner space of the individual.In SANAA’s architecture, I sensea whisper of something essential, a fluidexchange between context, space andlight working towards a stronger socialconsciousness.Tonight the blue light will occupy mydesk in the corner window and transmitits peculiar identity to the rest of theworld. Patiently, I will anticipate the nextemail to reassure my sense of existence, aform of contact. I could be anywhere. InsideSANAA’s work, I am not waiting fora response, real or virtual. Daylight asspace carefully tucks me in and invitesme to participate, and with that simplegesture architecture works at its best.Per Olaf Fjeld took his Masters Degree underLouis I Kahn at the University of Pennsylvania.He is a professor at the Oslo School of Architectureand Design. He has written a numberof articles and books on architecture; his latestbook is “Sverre Fehn, The Pattern of Thoughts”(2009). Per Olaf Fjeld was a guest professor atCornell University and the University of Arizona,and served as president of The European Associationof Architectural Education for 3 yearsfrom 2005. Per Olaf Fjeld has run a small practicewith his wife Emily Randall Fjeld since 1975.Further readingsMHS, por Kazuyo Sejima, Albert Ferré and TomokoSakamoto, Actar, Barcelona, 2001, ISBN84-89698-99-6Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa, SANAA, YukoHasegawa, Electra Architecture, Milan, 2005,ISBN 9781904313403Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa / SANAAWorks 1995-2003, Shinichi Masuishi, Tokyo, 2003,ISBN 4-88706-224-9Kazuyo Sejima in Gifu, Albert Ferré and TomokoSakamoto, Actar, Barcelona, 2001, ISBN 84-89698-92-976 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

JAR-MUND/VIGs-NæS

“We need torediscoverthe economyof daylight”The work of the Norwegian architects Jarmund/Vigsnæs is firmly rootedin the Norwegian culture and landscape. In an environment that is oftendetermined by stark contrasts, their buildings seek to establish a balance–between sheltering and opening up, between opaqueness and transparency,and between different qualities of daylight and views.Interview with Håkon VigsnæsPhotography by Thekla EhlingMr Vigsnæs, many of your works – andmuch of the best contemporary Norwegianarchitecture – seem to have a particularlyclose relationship to the Norwegian landscapeand to its light. What significancedoes this landscape have for the Norwegianculture and for you as architects?Norway has never had a very strong urbanculture – not even today. Traditionally,the settlement patterns in our countryare not very dense. The typical historicaldwellings were small houses or farms,which were always self-owned as we neverhad a feudal system in Norway. Manypeople made their living from farming orfishing, or a combination of the two.Even today, more than half the populationlive in their own houses, often in thecountryside or in some way related to thelandscape. It is also very normal for a Norwegianfamily to have a summer or wintercabin in the countryside, usually quitesmall and simple. The Norwegian culturehas thus remained very connected to thenature that surrounds it, both in terms ofeveryday activities and use of space..Another important aspect of the landscapeis the climate and, along with it,the daylight. Quite often you can see thatNorwegian architecture is dynamic in itsposition between sheltering and openingup. On the one hand, our buildings have toprotect the inhabitants - both physicallyand mentally – from the harsh climatearound them. But on the other, it is veryimportant for us to ‘bring’ the landscape– and especially the various daylight conditions– into the house.This traditional dynamic influences Norwegianarchitecture today. People bothwant to be protected from the climate andto open up to the landscape and its light.Mind you, light is something that there isnot too much of in Norway, especially inwinter. Also, the light often comes in at lowangles and it is quite an architectural challengeto bring this light into buildings.What strategies has Norwegian architectureevolved to harness this low and oftenminimal Nordic light?Modern Norwegian architecture has alwaystried to achieve the balance I mentioned,between sheltering and openingup. We do not build fully-glazed buildingsfor housing in Norway in general – bothbecause they would make little sense interms of energy use and because peoplewant buildings to ‘embrace’ them. AlthoughNorwegian houses have alwayshad a strong relationship to nature, historicallythey had quite few openings– at least until the evolution of a specific‘holiday’ architecture from the 1870sonwards, when glass verandas becamefashionable.You can also observe this differentiatedrelationship to daylight in our ownbuildings, such as the skiing cabin in theNordmarka region just outside Oslo thatwe built in 2004. Here we tried to let thelight in as equally as possible from all sides.Similarly, in many of our buildings we tryto achieve a mixture of light from differentdirections that is as rich and varied aspossible.”We do not build fully-glazedbuildings for housing in Norway ingeneral – both because they wouldmake little sense in terms ofenergy use and because peoplewant buildings to ‘embrace’ them.”You have designed buildings for very northernlatitudes, including the Svalbard ScienceCentre in Spitsbergen. In this location,it is literally dark for almost half of the yearand light for the other half. How did youreact to this challenge?Here again, the climate was a startingpoint for our design. First and foremost,the design was influenced by the need toavoid snow piling up around the building.We therefore gave the building a very aerodynamicshape, which was tested digitallyto assess the expected wind patternsand snowdrift on the site. Because the ScienceCentre is located on permafrost, wealso raised it above the ground on stilts toallow air to circulate underneath it. Thisis because if a building stands directly onpermafrost, it will melt the ground withthe heat it creates and risk sliding away.In the building envelope, we tried toachieve the same balance between shelteringand opening up as we do in ourbuildings in Norway. However we couldnot use too many windows because thetemperature difference between insideand outside is often 50 to 60°C and the85

In the rooms, lime-washed panelling,wooden floors and furnituremade of oiled oak convey a warmand natural atmosphere.Previous pages The hotel is inone of Norway’s most importantwinter sports areas. Itsroof shape reflects the silhouettesof the surrounding mountainchains.”The architecture itself is anexpression of the dreams of theowner, who had always wanted akind of tower in the mountains. ”heat losses would become too extreme.We therefore shaped and positionedthe openings according to the primaryfunctions they had to perform: for theelongated sides of the buildings, wherethe offices are located, we chose longhorizontal windows to provide the userswith the best possible view of the horizon;in the public areas, the windows are morevertical, and we also added openings inthe roof because it was as important toget a lot of light into these spaces as toprovide views.Let us talk a little about Turtagrø Hotel,a project that is also documented in thephotographs in this article. What werethe key factors that influenced the designof this building?Turtagrø Hotel has quite a special historybecause the previous hotel had burntdown. The owner literally lost everythinghe owned in the fire but he decided to usethe insurance money to build a new hotel.As he could not afford to spend morethan a year without revenues, the entireproject had to be finished in just one season.It was therefore an extremely ‘fast’project for us, which we started buildingfrom sketches rather than elaborateworking drawings.The architecture itself is an expressionof the dreams of the owner, whohad always wanted a kind of tower in themountains. Obviously the hotel that wedesigned is not a tower, but it does kindof tower over the landscape if you view itfrom a certain angle.For the construction, we used mainlytraditional materials such as natural stoneand wooden cladding. We treated them ina way that relates the building to its annexfrom the turn of the 19th century, with itskind of ‘embroidered’ wooden patternson the verandas. On the other hand, thematerial palette and overall shape clearlyrelate to the harsh location of the buildingin the mountains, providing a feeling ofsafety and shelter to the inhabitants.A third important aspect of the architectureis the positioning of the openings,which often face slightly upwards ratherthan sideways. This is because in themountains, you very often want to look upto the mountaintops and to the sky fromyour room, rather than sideways or downinto the valley.In general, would you say that you designyour buildings ‘inside out’ or ‘outside in’?It’s always a balance between the two.You can best observe this in our Trianglehouse in Nesodden, where the overall designfollows the shape and positioning ofwindows in the facade. In an almost romanticway, these windows frame differentviews of the surrounding landscapeand of the nearby fjord, and we tried to relatethese views specifically to the indoorspaces. The timber cladding of the facades,in turn, also relates to the windows: it isdivided into areas with horizontal andvertical patterns aligned with the edgesof the window openings.You often use very complex sections in yourbuildings, almost in the sense of a Raumplanby Adolf Loos. Why is this?The spatial complexity or ‘flow’ of the interiorspaces is important to us for variousreasons. Firstly, the relationship betweenspaces of different heights increases thedynamic of the architecture. But it has alsoproven a useful strategy to avoid squaremetres in a building that are not actuallyused. Many of our houses are built withrelatively restricted budgets.If a client has the choice between aprefabricated house of 200 square metresand, for the same price, a simple, yet individuallydesigned house with some 140square metres, we have to convince himthat 140 square metres is really sufficientfor him and that he should commission uswith the design. To achieve this, we haveto deal with the use and the ‘flow’ of the interiorspaces in a smart way, for exampleby not placing spaces next to each otherbut rather letting them intersect eachother.Apart from your own designs, what buildingsor places have particularly impressedyou with their daylight conditions in thepast?Rather than mention a specific building, Iwould like to point out that there is muchto be learnt from traditional buildingculture. The rising demands on energyefficiency and thermal comfort meanthat nowadays we can no longer designfully-glazed buildings. In my opinion, thisis highly beneficial for architecture, as itmakes us reconsider how to balance massand lightness, and walls and windows.Traditionally, this kind of focus has ledarchitects to develop very fine detailsaround windowsills and devise ways ofpainting and profiling window openings.These details deal with light in a muchmore intelligent way than today, whenit has become so easy just to insert glasspanes into walls. So, in many ways, traditionalarchitecture can provide us withclues about the architectural ‘economy’of light.When, and on what occasions, did you cometo realise how much daylight can influencehuman behaviour, and well-being?In the North, we can get tired and moody,and feel a lack of energy during the dark”This kind of understanding of ourown health and how it relates tothe daylight quality and the wishto be outside are importantelements of our physical andmental tradition, and every one ofus is accustomed to them from anearly age.”season. So for me, it is often importantjust go outside and see and feel the sunaround noon, or to get home from workearly enough to experience some daylightoutdoors. This kind of understanding ofour own health and how it relates to thedaylight quality and the wish to be outsideare important elements of our physicaland mental tradition, and every one of usis accustomed to them from an early age.89

The hotel rooms are relativelywide and shallow and thusreceive a large amount of daylight.Roof windows provide therooms with views over the valleyand the surrounding mountainranges.Next spread “Our buildings areintended to strike a balancebetween exposure and protection,”say Jarmund/Vigsnaes.The facades of the hotels, withtheir large roof overhangs andrelatively deeply recessed windows,reflect this contrast.”We discuss daylight with ourclients very often and generallywhat they want is views to allsides and daylight coming in fromall sides.”Have you spoken to clients about their daylightpreferences or received feedback fromclients and users about the daylight in yourbuildings?We discuss daylight with our clients veryoften and generally what they want isviews to all sides and daylight coming infrom all sides. The only worry that theytend to have is about walls on which toput their favourite paintings – but thatis not an architectural issue as such. Weoften tell our clients that in order to experiencedifferent light qualities and views,it is very important to balance them, to be‘economical’ with them in an architecturalsense, and not to let everything in at alltimes. Sometimes we have to convince aclient that a very low window – that youcan only see out of when you are sittingin the bathtub, for example – may be favourable,and that sometimes a windowthat offer no views out at all but casts lightonto a wall or the floor might be important.Persuading clients to believe in thesearchitectural issues is often difficult – butnecessary.Daylight is highly dynamic. It changes allof the time. How do your buildings react tothis changeability, also in terms of how youdesign the envelope?Take a look at our project Farmhouse inToten, west of Oslo. The house was builtnext to an abandoned farm for a familythat moved there from the city. The clientshad two important desires: firstly, therewas a barn on the site that we had to teardown but that the family wanted to keepa memory of. So we used the 100-year-oldcladding of the barn for the new house andleft the remaining wooden constructionon the site to be burnt, and to heat the newhome for free for the next 20 years or so.The other desire had to do with thetopography of the site and its light. Thefamily had previously lived in a rathersmall and dark flat in Oslo and were nowdreaming of this site with its daylight conditions.They carefully studied the movementsof the sun during the different seasons,and decided where they would cutsmall clearings to open up views and howthey would relate their lives to the pathof the sun. The house has a continuoushorizontal band of windows across allfour facades, which clearly reflects thefamily’s desire for a continuous relationshipto the changing daylight. The stripvaries in height and position and therebyrelates the indoor spaces to the light conditionsoutside, and also to the lack of lightin some positions.Daylight conditions in cities are often differentfrom those on the countryside. Doyou pursue a different approach to dealingwith daylight in urban settings?In urban conditions, there is not only oftenless daylight than in the countrysidebut there is also the issue of views into thehouse. The placement of windows thereforebecomes crucial once again in orderto establish a balance between ‘holdingback’ and ‘giving away’ one’s secrets toneighbours.We have built a lot of large projects inurban settings but only one private home,which is located in a backyard in a historicpart of Oslo. Here the task was to visuallycontrol the backyard. The house – quite asmall house, actually – is therefore veryopen to the courtyard but entirely closedto the other three sides by existing wallsthat we were not allowed to penetrate.The design of the house was, on the onehand, clearly determined by this restriction.On the other, this kind of ‘friction’between the new-built and the existingconditions is also exciting to work with.The worst scenarios for us as architects,in a way, are perfect sites with unlimitedbudgets. That is really too much to copewith. On the other hand, we very oftenbuild in steep terrain, with the sunlightfrom behind and the view stretching outto the other side. This is a good cross-sectionfor us to work with and more interestingthan having the light and the view inthe same direction.90 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15

LACA-TON &VASSAL

“Light isfreedom”Interview with Anne Lacaton andJean-Philippe Vassal“Freedom is something we try to accomplish with all of our work,”says Anne Lacaton of Lacaton & Vassal architects. With her partnerJean-Philippe Vassal, she has proven again and again that flexible andgenerous spaces full of daylight can be created with surprisingly simplemeans and at low cost. For their work with daylight, the VELUXFoundation has awarded Lacaton & Vassal the 2011 Daylight andBuilding Component Award.By Brian WoodwardPhotography by Thekla Ehling“We have to consider daylight in two directions,”says architect Jean-Philippe Vassal,57, running his hand across the panoramaof Parisian rooftops that surroundhis atelier. “Daylight, of course, meanslight that comes from the outside, but itis also what we can see from the inside tothe outside.”He explains that the boundaries of ahome extend as far as one can see and thatmaximising daylight from the inside tothe outside is one of the fundamental designparadigms Vassal and his partner of24 years, Anne Lacaton, consider whenapproaching a new project.Lacaton & Vassal projects have often involvedrefurbishment of existing structures.From the redesign of the Palaisde Tokyo in Paris, to their extensivework with refurbishing social housingacross France, all of their projects arecharacterised by appropriation of nonstandardmaterials, such as greenhousestructures, corrugated aluminium andpolycarbonate, in the building process.This economical and transformativeuse of materials and a consistent focuson daylight have earned Lacaton & Vassalthe recognition of the VELUX Foundation’s2011 Daylight and Building ComponentAward. They were recognised witha €100,000 honorarium at a ceremony on7 March in Copenhagen.“Transformation is one of our interests.But it is really about freedom. Freedom issomething we try to accomplish with all ofour work,” says Lacaton, 55. “Not frameddaylight, but pure exposure. That is whatdaylight can do. It can free. We like totalfreedom.”Are there any common denominators in theway you consider daylight in your buildings?JPV: One thing we always try to do is toavoid walls. We have to produce floors,columns and beams. No walls.We think that being able to look outsideis the best thing that can happen tosomeone in the place he lives in. Evenwhen what people have to look at is notso beautiful, we want to give them thefreedom to filter their views rather thannot having any views at all.It is a question of freedom and maximisingcapacity. Each time we design abuilding we ask, “what could be the maximumdegree of openness for a bedroomor a bathroom?” These questions not onlyhave to do with daylight but also with thepossibility of going from inside to outside.So even if you live on the 13th floor youshould still have access to a balcony or awinter garden. This improves the climate,it allows you to have plants in your wintergarden and it makes daily life easier. Ithas made a big difference in our projects,especially in our social housing projects.AL: I also think that daylight is somethingreally necessary for well-being. Trying tobring the maximum amount of daylightinside a building is an interesting challenge.This is why we often put greenhouseson the top of our buildings. Be-97

Previous spread The machinelikeaesthetics of the greenhouseconstruction and its controlscharacterise the conservatoriesup to today – in spite of all theefforts of the occupants to givethem a homely character withindividual furnishings.The conservatories are unheatedall year round. Horizontal textileawnings under the ceiling providethe only protection againstsunshine. Nevertheless, thesespaces are used for hours at atime for large parts of the year.“Every time we we had contactwith the client later on they told us,‘you cannot imagine how much ourlife has changed because of thishouse ... we are always in daylight’.”cause they have to be so open to daylight,greenhouses are very light structures thatdo not cast any shadows on the floor. Thislightness related to daylight is somethingcrucial in our architecture because we alwaystry to avoid the feeling of heavinessof a building. Daylight relates to lightness,to feeling the climate, to being very closeto your environment. We always try touse the building elements that will allowus to maximise the amount of daylight ina building.Can you give us an example of how the useof daylight influenced one of your projectdesigns and how?JPV: It is difficult to point to a specificproject because our job as architectsis not to produce concrete or steel orglass. We just have to ‘build’ the void inbetween – the space, the air, the climateand the ambiance in it – and this includesdaylight. Daylight is in everything we do.I do remember one project, however, a refurbishmentof an existing home in a verydark part of Bordeaux, where the clienttold us, “In this house there will never bea ray of light!”But we worked hard and set ourselvesthe goal of finding at least one day whenthere would be a little triangle of sun enteringthe house at one specific time. Wetold our client that on this day, at this hour,there would be this triangle on the floor.She waited for it, and it worked. And shewas happy.AL: There was also a small country housewe did in the south-west of France tenyears ago. It was for a couple who workedin a vineyard in Bordeaux. They had previouslylived in an even smaller house, inthe shadow of the home of the vineyardowner, that had tiny windows, poor ventilationand, in general, very bad livingconditions.The couple asked us to design a new housefor them on a very large piece of land thatthey had been able to buy for almost nothing.We built two big greenhouses on thesite, adjacent to each other, and inside oneof them we put a wooden ‘box’ to containthe heated rooms of the house, such as theliving room and bedroom.It was a simple concept but every timewe had contact with them later on theytold us, ”you cannot imagine how muchour life has changed because of this house.We are always in daylight.” When the ladydied of cancer a few years later, the onlything her husband told us was, “you cannot imagine how the last days of my wife’slife were beautified by your house.” So thatis how daylight influenced their life - andit continues to influence our designs.What other aspects of daylight, apart fromthe visual ones, do you consider in yourprojects?AL: Daylight is something very importantin buildings, because daylight includes thepossibility of using the sun’s rays for comfortand of allowing views outside. If youuse daylight, you also need less artificiallight. Still, it is quite easy to protect yourselffrom daylight if you need or want to.So in our buildings we very often donot use walls, but work with open frameworksmade of columns, floors and platforms.To this we add transparent facadesthat include all the necessary systems forprotection – from glare and heat, frompeople looking in, from the cold of thenight, and so on.These transparent glass facades andglass partitions extend from floor to ceilingbecause ventilation and views are veryimportant for us.Lastly, we also very often use greenhousesas a ‘second envelope’ inside whichwe can create spaces with different climates.Obviously, the question of climateis linked both to daylight and to the questionof comfort – bioclimatic comfort.Which is your favourite daylit building – orwhich place or building has most impressedyou with its daylight conditions?JPV: I remember one building, the HansScharoun Library (State Library) in Berlin,which is incredibly large. Nevertheless,from any point inside the building you canstill see the far-off light of the facades.In the school of architecture at Nanteswe tried to achieve the same effect. Thebuilding is 120 metres long and 18 metresdeep, and light enters only through thefacade, which is six metres high on eachfloor. Although there is not much daylightthere, when we stand in the middle of thebuilding we can see everything that happensoutside. We see the people moving,and we always see the light coming infrom the facade. So even when there isjust a ray of light that touches a few specksof dust, it is very beautiful.Can you tell us about a situation when yourealised how space – and daylight – can influencepeople’s behaviour?JPV: A good example is the first housewe designed, the Latapie House in Bordeaux.It was a very cheap house. We builta greenhouse of 60 square metres aroundthe actual house and, as architects, we imaginedthat it would be a tropical gardenfull of flowers. But what the owners havedone with this space is ten times better.They have put most of their furniture inthere and use the place – which we hadintended to be used only 30 per cent ofthe year –90 per cent of the time. Theyhave really taken this space and donesomething with it, because it is airy andfilled with light.In many of your buildings, you use daylightnot just to benefit people but also to growplants. Where does your interest in plantsand horticulture come from?JPV: It is probably me who is most interestedin horticulture. I have an orchid collectionhere in the office that fascinatesme because orchids are the kind of plantthat can get the most from a minimum.They do not need any soil to grow, buthave everything right in their roots.What role does economics play in yourbuildings, and how do you relate economyof means to quality of life?JPV: Just after I finished my studiesin Bordeaux I spent five years in Niger,which very much influenced my thinking98

Loft living in low-cost housing– this seemingly ‘impossible’combination was achieved byLacaton & Vassal in their projectin Mulhouse. Even the two-roomapartments are more than 100square metres in size.Following pages Living, cooking,working, sleeping – On theground floor of the houses, everythingtakes place in a singlecontinuous open space. Thearchitects intentionally refusedto predefine functions for individualareas.about the relation between economy andquality of life. I always say that I studiedfor five years at the School of Architecturein Bordeaux but then got five more yearsof education in Niger.In Africa, I saw the life of people whoreally are in difficult situations most ofthe time – without food or water. Yet theirability and their sheer intelligence to inventthings all the time has stuck with me.I learned how to create something out ofnothing and how this can even be donewith a poetical gesture and with humour.Whatever they did seemed to be light –never heavy or difficult. But it was alwaysdone with a minimum of means.A car that is discarded in Europe orFrance, for example, will be able to run for20 more years in Africa. You see childrenwho invent their own little toys and ‘playcars’ in the sand with some scrap steel orrubber. You see houses built of branchespoked into the desert sand and coveredwith cheap, corrugated aluminium sheeting.There is a freedom in the way thesepeople do things.We try to work in the same way. Youdon’t have to rebuild everything – youjust have to cope with the existing urbansituation. There are a lot of buildings thatpeople think should be demolished – weconsider them merely unfinished. Buildingshave more capacity if we can preservethem and transform them.AL: In many projects, the relation betweenthe cost and the scope of the projectis inappropriate. As architects, we cancreate something very generous andluxurious at low cost, but this requiresan understanding of what increases thecosts in the construction process. To keepcosts low, you have to get the maximumperformance out of everything you areworking with: out of every constructionsystem, and every material. Our goal is notto build cheaper but to achieve the maximumwith a low budget. We do not aim tosimply reduce the price of a building butto get more for less.Your own buildings, such as the recent architectureschool at Nantes, are often veryopen for reconfiguration and later adaptationby the users themselves. Have youobserved how users actually adapted thesespaces to their needs?AL: We go there quite often and it isamazing to see that sometimes nothinghappens in the building and the spacesare completely empty. Then sometimesthey are full of activity, whether it is studentsworking or events. We don’t reallyunderstand why this is but it is amazingto see that everything becomes possibleif you liberate yourself from programmaticspaces that are devoted to specificfunctions. It is great to see the things thathappen when you have space that is ‘freeto use’.With each visit, the school becomessomething different for us. We gave thestudents freedom and now they keep arerepaying us with new interpretations ofthe space. This provides the building witha certain kind of richness, somewhat differentfrom the traditional meaning of thethis word, and we have the feeling that wecan continue in this way.Do you think there is a demand for suchopen buildings that users can continuouslyreconfigure according to their needs?AL: I don’t think people have a naturaldemand for such buildings but when Ispeak with them, they tell me they feelvery happy. They never imagined it beforebut being inside these buildingsdoes make a difference to them. So we areconvinced that is not a mistake to createthis kind of architecture and think aboutopen-plan floors and to maximise lightand freedom. At the same time, we haveto consider all the different systems thatprotect people from the sun and protecttheir privacy. If you create these layersthat allow you to achieve any degree ofopenness, from maximum transparencyto daylight to total darkness, a buildingworks perfectly.”It is just about giving maximumperformance to everything you areworking with: to every constructionsystem, to every material.”101

AWORLDOFLIGHTSThe 2010 edition of the International VELUX Award attracted 696submissions from all five continents.Beyond their architectural quality,these students’ works illustrate how daylight influences our perceptionof place, our rhythms of life, our social behaviour, and our individualwellbeing. The following pages show the winners and honourable mentionsof the award, as well as the thoughts and impressions of the jurymembers.106D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 107

“I think there is a cultural element inlight, and there are social aspectsthat relate to the region, its climateand to the seasons. In the competition,it became evident that a lot ofprojects from Japan or other Asiancountries dealt with light in very differentways from the way that theEuropeans did. And the Africansand Americans had different approachesagain, because Africanlight and American light are also verydifferent. […] With climate, it is thesame: in Japan it becomes very hotand humid in summer, which is verydifferent from here in Europe. But ifyou do not come to Japan yourself,maybe you will not be able to understandthat.”“[Working with light], you can be poeticor pragmatic, and it touchesupon many aspects of architectureand urban design that are of interest.In general, I like it when daylightis also seen as an architectural parameter[…], which can never not bein the project, but is also taken to a[…| level of solution. This might soundvery abstract. But in fact we foundmany practical solutions to practicalproblems among the entries, as wellas solutions that were still hypotheticalbut where you could feel that thestudents were addressing really vitalquestions. You could sense in their solutionsa foretaste of the future.”Natalie de Vries“I found a lot of my concerns aboutcreating a better quality of life in citiesbeing dealt with by the students.They looked at left-over spaces in thecity and how they can be improved,at connections to the infrastructurethat allows us to move above andbeneath and through the fabric ofthe city, and at retro-fitting. Therewere re-purposing solutions. Therewas the idea – an old idea – of a typicalshutter as a method of controllinglight at a window, at an aperture,taken to a whole new level so thatit could virtually be universal in application.That was really excitingfor me.”Will Bruder“I saw, and was very happy to see, inmany of the projects […] a great sensitivitytowards urban design. Wehave rapid urbanisation in manyparts of the world, with ever higherdensities, creating new environmentsin which we have to live andin which we have to create nice cityscapes.Light is one of the most importantaspects of making liveablespaces in big metropolises.”Natalie de VriesAll projects are available ativa.velux.comMomoyo KajimaPrize winners1st prize2nd prizesHonourable Mentions1st prizeConstellation of light fields2nd prizeCondensation of VariationalSunlight Influences2nd prizeLightscape between gapsConstellation of light fieldsStudents: Park Young-Gook, Kim DaeHyun, Choi Jin Kyu, Kim Won IllHanyang University, SeoulTeacher: Masanori TomiiThe team from Hanyang Universitydesigned an immaterial roof over anoutdoor stage in the Marronnier Parkin Seoul. Consisting of Moebius stripsof fabric that can be bent and twisted,this roof lets every type of light flowto the area below. This variety of daylightingsituations corresponds to thewide variety of activities happeningbeneath it. The students explain:“Light is the immaterial architecturalelement that humans react directlyto through the senses. By eliminatingthe material elements, light can creatediversity within a given space.”“The project addresses the big urbanspace – it addresses the very importantissue of controlling light ratherthan magnifying light. The projectaddresses structural, urban and socialissues by looking at how to revivea space and how to make it habitableand viable. The jury found that theproject idea was very strong and intriguing.The comprehensiveness ofthe project made it to the top as reliableand viable – and by discussingan idea that could also be applicablein other climates. Everything shownin the project is about testing – beautifullyrepresented in a series of renderingsand photos.” (From the juryreport)Condensation of VariationalSunlight InfluencesStudents: Ma Xin, Wang Rui, YangMeng. Architecture School of TianjinUniversity. Teacher: Jianbo ZhaoThis project considers the interactionbetween sunlight and people’s behaviourin urban life. It suggests the reorganisationof an open-air marketin Kashgar, northwest China, by introducinga double-layered roof. Eachof the layers has a number of squareopenings that produce a dramatic,ever-mobile interchange between illuminatedspots and shadows.“The work with the urban plaza hasa social perspective. It investigateshow light can be used to organise activitiesand behaviour, and perhapshelp something that otherwise wouldbe chaotic – to be ordered and moreworkable. The way roof patternsand the combination of the two levelshave been investigated in a scalemodel is appreciated by the jury. Theproject is well presented and showsa simple idea that can easily be applicablein an urban context – not onlyfor the interchange between sunlightand shadow but also to provide naturalventilation with the double skin.“(From the jury report)Lightscape between gapsStudent: Joe WuDelft University of TechnologyTeacher: Daliana SuryawinataJoe Wu’s project is based on a memoryof a window from when he wasliving in a Hong Kong apartmentbuilding in his childhood. The windowwas seldom opened and it wasblocked by a neighbouring wall, butthe effects of diagonal sunlight reflectionscreated the most beautifulpaintings in time.The project itself is composed ofreflective tiles that can be fastenedto any building façade and are individuallyshaped to reflect sunlightinto a window on the opposite wallat a given time during the day.“The jury finds the project very workable,sensitive and simple as well asvery well presented. It contains a seriesof reflections about privacy andhow to make a space special. It workswith a solution that could be universallyapplied to major cities all overthe world – in dense urban spaces onthe dark side of buildings that neverreceive light. Many other projectsproposed the same problem – but notas clearly.” (From the jury report)Beauty in the UnDaylightableStudents: Yan Shi, Chung-Kai YangDelft University of Technology.Teacher: Lei QuWindow shuttersStudents: Ieva Maknickaite, AntanasLizdenis, Lauryanas Vizbaras.Vilnius Gediminas Technical University.Teacher: Linas NaujokaitisLight in side/InsideStudent: Jiayi Zhu. Anhui Universityof Science & Technology, Beijing.Teacher: Yunfeng HuangInstant impressionism –light as a painterStudents: Wang Fei, Zheng KaijingSchool of Architecture, Tsinghua University,Beijing. Teacher: Xin ZhangSub-Terra aperturesStudent: Stephen Kaye. ParsonsNew School for Design, New York.Teacher: Philip GabrielSection of lightStudent: Berte Daan. EidgenössischeTechnische Hochschule Zürich, Switzerland.Teacher: Michael UmbrichtFluxional light underurban scaffoldsStudents: Yan Wenlong, Sheng Xiaofei,Fang Erqing, Kang Xiaopei.Tongji University, Shanghai. Teacher:Bin HuBuoyant LightStudents: Claire Lubell & VirginiaFernandez. University of WaterlooSchool of Architecture, Cambridge,Canada. Teacher: Lola Sheppard108D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 109

Wang FeiBeijingThe everydaypoetics oflightFor each one of us, home is a unique place. This is due to many reasons: its location,the memories we associate with it, the items we keep in it – and the distinct lightinside our home. This light was explored by the winners and runners-up of theInternational VELUX Award 2010 in their photo project ‘The light in my room’.By Louise GrønlundHow often do we stop in the middleof our home – in the spaces that surroundus every day – and try to seethe light – and moreover not ’just‘ seebut really try to sense the light? Howdoes it affect the space? What is theorientation of the space: north, south,east or west? What time of year andwhat time of day is it? How is the skyoutside – are there clouds? What isthe colour of the light? And how dothe changes of light change the atmosphereof the space?These are just some of the questionsthat the students of architecturefrom all parts of the world, havereflected upon while making theirvery own portrait of the specific lightin their room.The ideaThere were several ideas behind theproject, but the overall idea was forthe students to develop a sensitivityto see and observe the light intheir surroundings. Once they havechanged their way of sensing thelight, their views about light will bepermanently changed. So the intentionwas to pass on an awareness oflight which they can use when designingarchitecture.Another purpose of the projectis to illustrate one of the qualities oflight: that it is ever changing and willnever appear the same way twice.The project thus serves to clarify thequality of the transitions between differentlight conditions during the dayand during the different seasons.Yet another interesting aspect isto show how very differently we arrangeour homes all over the world.This includes the different design ofwindows or light-openings, as wellas the things in front of the windows,such as filters or curtains. It even includesthe furniture we place nearthe window(s) – in the space of thewindow.The frame for the projectThe place for the project was thehome of each student, and the assignmentwas to stay inside for 12 hoursand document, reflect and observethe light in the room. Each studenthad to produce at least 12 photographstaken from the same positionover a day. The photos should only beof natural light. The students werealso asked to think about the framingof their photo and examine how muchor how little of the space should beframed in the photo in order to showthe light.The light in their roomsThe students that were invited forthis project were the winners andhonourable mentions from the InternationalVELUX Award 2010. A totalof 19 students from all over the worldcontributed with their view upon thespecific light in their room.In general, the projects can bedivided into two categories of photographs.The first one shows theopenings or windows themselves,which let the light into the space.The second category of photographsshows the light which is created bythe openings. Both categories areessential, and they supplement eachother very well to describe the phenomenonof light.Looking at the images that thestudents produced, it is fascinatingboth to see series of photos where thelight changes significantly throughoutthe day, and series where only nuancesof light are changing the space.Another set of differences betweenthe series consists in the light openingsand filters such as curtains,which modulate the light and therebymake its many qualities visible.Louise Grønlund graduated as anarchitect from the Royal DanishAcademy of Fine Arts, School ofArchitecture, in Copenhagen in2006, and subsequently taught therefor three years. In summer 2009she started her PhD entitled ‘LightSpace – the spatial potentials of thefacade’ at the School of Architecturein Aarhus, Denmark. She also worksas an architecture photographerfor the Danish magazine Arkitektenand for several Danish architects.In 2006, Louise Grønlund won thefirst prize at the International VELUXAward with the project ‘A museum ofPhotography’. In the context of theInternational VELUX Award 2010,she organized the student workshop‘A portrait of the light in La Rochelle’,as well as the photo project ‘The lightin my room’.110 D&A SPRING 2011 Issue 15 111

Wang FeiBeijing

01 Virginia FernandezCambridge, Canada02030405060708 0910

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Tinyiu FungDelft

daylight & architecturemagazine by veluxSPRING 2011 Issue 15PublisherMichael K. RasmussenVELUX Editorial teamPer Arnold AndersenChristine BjørnagerLone FeiferLotte KragelundTorben ThyregodEditor, Institut für InternationaleArchitektur-DokumentationJakob SchoofTranslationSprachendienst Dr. HerrlingerNorma KesslerSean McLaughlinRe-writeRuth SlavidTony WedgwoodWebsitewww.velux.com/daE-mailda@velux.comPrint run50,000 copiesISSN 1901-0982The views expressed in articlesappearing in Daylight & Architectureare those of the authors and notnecessarily shared by the publisher.© 2011 VELUX Group.® VELUX and VELUX logo areregistered trademarks used underlicence by the VELUX Group.Photo editorTorben EskerodArt direction & designStockholm Design Lab ®Per CarlssonLisa FleckBjörn Kusoffskywww.stockholmdesignlab.seCover photographyGerry Johansson