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Informality Magazine - Issue 8 - May 2016

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EDITORS in chief: Alanna Lauter<br />

managing: Kaitlin Faherty<br />

CREATIVE DIRECTOR<br />

Matthew Addeo<br />

EDITORIAL TEAM<br />

Kristy Lau<br />

Midori Tanabe<br />

Sai Dhasma<br />

Samantha Ong<br />

Solomon Oh<br />

Christian Camacho<br />

FACULTY ADVISOR<br />

Marta Gutman<br />

WITH SPECIAL THANKS TO Gordon Gebert<br />

Camille Hall<br />

Erica Torres<br />

Michael Miller<br />

AIAS ccny<br />

Contact Us<br />

www.informalityssa.com<br />

informalitymagazine@gmail.com<br />

The Bernard and Anne Spitzer School of Architecture<br />

141 convent ave, new york, ny 10031 / 212-650-7118<br />

acting dean: Gordon Gebert<br />

chair: Julio Salcedo-Fernandez<br />

ssa1.ccny.cuny.edu


ISSUE 8<br />

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS<br />

INformality <strong>Magazine</strong> is a student-led, student-curated<br />

platform for discourse at the Spitzer<br />

School of Architecture (SSA) and the City College<br />

of New York. Our aim is to incite conversation, debate,<br />

and exchange across the disciplines of architecture,<br />

landscape architecture and urban design,<br />

with a primary focus on expression outside of these<br />

seemingly independent realms: namely through art<br />

and writing. We believe that, as design students,<br />

it is important to celebrate and share the creative<br />

works we make outside of the classroom as well as<br />

within. We are most interested in how these disciplines<br />

intersect.<br />

In the past <strong>Informality</strong> has served as a platform for<br />

students to showcase and critique the processes of<br />

architecture in the academy. By creating a platform<br />

that encourages informal drawing, writing, and discussion<br />

we operate in a ‘call and response’ fashion<br />

by engaging individual students and faculty members<br />

in one-on-one conversations, asking them<br />

to speak about a specific interest or talent which<br />

they foster in tandem with their design education<br />

or their professional work. This direct method of<br />

communication is to our advantage in our academic<br />

setting at City College because it is culturally<br />

diverse. This is how our theme for <strong>Informality</strong> 8<br />

developed; we wanted to explore the work that<br />

inspires the creative thinkers of our student body,<br />

and to frame their actions in a provocative, bordering<br />

on rebellious, manner. There is no single belief<br />

in the “right” way of designing, nor consensus on<br />

where to pull inspiration from.<br />

Thus is born our industrious mischief maker, the<br />

individual who carries with them a unique inspiration<br />

or perspective - some look forward to the<br />

promise of complete digitization, others romanticize<br />

it, still others are intent on studying the past.<br />

As a collective they represent numerous lines of<br />

thinking through design. Each of these acts, to bor<br />

row from John Berger, are different “ways of seeing”<br />

as expressed through methodologies of recording,<br />

of thinking, and of doing.<br />

The direct engagement which we sought with students<br />

is the characteristic which we feel embodies<br />

the goal of our publication, where the informal<br />

conversations are the ones which bear the most<br />

fruitful narratives and ideas. We focused also on<br />

gathering event-based materials - hosting a coffee<br />

cup sketch display, collective studio drawings, and<br />

lecture sketch cards. The sketch, which was the<br />

dominating result of these events, is the informal<br />

and impromptu recording of thoughts. Amassed<br />

they become a collage of individuals.<br />

We’d like to give our thanks to all of the students<br />

and faculty members who submitted their work<br />

and encouraged our pursuit of formulating the<br />

ideas for this print publication. We’d especially like<br />

to thank our group of committee members for our<br />

discussions early in the process of developing the<br />

theme for this issue, and for their work to motivate<br />

other students to share their work with us.<br />

AL + KF


ISSUE 8 | constantly, regularly, or habitually active or occupied.


FORMALITY<br />

IN dustrious.


FRANKFURT DAM GERMANY<br />

STUDY ABROAD SUMMER TERM<br />

ELIZA TANG<br />

B. ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

“If Images Had Buttons”<br />

Wallpaper of a photgraph of a fire at a construction site placed<br />

strategically on a wall in the Deutsches Architekturmuseum in<br />

Frankfurt, Germany.


-TABLE of CONTENTS-<br />

thoughts.<br />

works.<br />

SPECTACLE OF HOPE 4<br />

Ben Tulman<br />

PUBLIC SCHOOL 1: 16<br />

Kaitlin Faherty<br />

HOUSE HISTORIES 18<br />

Christin Hu<br />

URBAN REFORESTATION 27<br />

David Tovar<br />

MOUNDBUILDERS 30<br />

Tyrell Lundman<br />

THREE+TWO MUDHOUSE 45<br />

Matthew Addeo<br />

PRINTED FUTURE 47<br />

Jethro Rebollar<br />

craft.<br />

SITE LINES 14<br />

Ermira Kasapi<br />

LECTURE SKETCHES 25<br />

Various Students + C. Volkman<br />

COUR DE MARBRE (PETIT) 35<br />

James Geoghegan<br />

KAHN-INVERTED 37<br />

Lester Li<br />

HEAVEN 48<br />

Sainath Dhasma<br />

PLACEMENT 51<br />

Alanna Lauter<br />

INFORMALITY 8 COVER SERIES<br />

Matthew Noonan<br />

PLASTIC PAVILLION 2<br />

Digital Fabrication Studio<br />

GRAFFITI 7<br />

Cesar Juarez (Photographs)<br />

NYC HAZE 13, 55<br />

Christin Hu (Photographs)<br />

CITY OF CULURE 15<br />

Kaitlin Faherty<br />

INK SERIES 24<br />

Cristian Camacho<br />

DOODLES 28, 45, 56<br />

Hyun Pak<br />

MANHATTAN CHRONICLES 29<br />

Sal Cosenza<br />

PLANET NYC 44<br />

Gabriel Florimon<br />

SPYDER 53<br />

Chrisoula Kapelonis<br />

talks.<br />

HELEN LEVIN 9<br />

With Kaitlin Faherty<br />

DEFINE INDUSTRIOUS 23<br />

Various Students<br />

ADAM HAYES 41<br />

With Alanna Lauter


works.<br />

PLASTIC PAVILLION<br />

OF PLASTIC FLOWERS<br />

DIGITAL FABRICATION STUDIO<br />

PROFESSOR JONATHAN SCELSA<br />

SUMMER 2015<br />

TEAM<br />

EMIR GJOKA<br />

DANICA VILDOSA<br />

TONY FUNG CHEUNG<br />

DANIEL ESCOBAR<br />

DESTINY CONELY<br />

BERK ERASLAN<br />

CHARLES LENT<br />

Plastic Flowers began as a study of curved<br />

folding as a methodology of creating a volumetric<br />

structure unit from sheet material,<br />

requiring minimal fastening and maximum<br />

space.<br />

The pavilion is formed from 100 “petal”<br />

units each constructed from an individual<br />

piece of .0625” thick density polyethylene.<br />

Two petals each were cut from a 2’ x 4’ sheet<br />

and etched to .032” depth using a CNC 3 axis<br />

router. The figural arc groove contour is created<br />

with a V-Groove tool-bit that when folded<br />

forms the rigid structure of this “Petal Brick.”<br />

CL<br />

- 1 -


-2-


-PLASTIC PAVILLION-<br />

- 3 -


thoughts.<br />

SPECTACLE OF HOPE:<br />

SIGN AND SIGNIFIER OF<br />

NEW YORK SUBWAY GRAFFITI<br />

BEN TULMAN<br />

M. ARCH / ALUMNI<br />

NOVEMBER 19, 2014<br />

It has been said that New York is the<br />

loneliest city on earth. Something about<br />

being surrounded by millions of people,<br />

rushing between skyscrapers, each with<br />

their own agenda, can provide a stark<br />

backdrop that can torment an individual<br />

with the close proximity of humans while<br />

withholding the humanity of personal<br />

connections. Relief from this cold version<br />

of the city comes in various forms, but the<br />

signage throughout the history of Times<br />

Square provides insight into a deep-seated<br />

desire for a humanizing element in the city.<br />

Communicating ideas, whether through<br />

language or images, is an act that evokes<br />

a true human connection, even if one<br />

may disagree with the message. An image<br />

of city dwellers and visitors alike on the<br />

Times Square sidewalk gazing up at the<br />

news of the D-Day invasion of Normandy<br />

demonstrates the importance of communication.<br />

The news streaming along<br />

the famous “zipper” news-reels caused<br />

everyone to stop what they were doing,<br />

pause their day, and concentrate their attention<br />

on a story that affected everyone<br />

and everything they knew. Ultimately,<br />

generations of pedestrians have been captivated<br />

as they look up at the signs and<br />

lights of Times Square, a fun, colorful<br />

escape from the regularity of the street,<br />

as well as a symbolic reminder that they<br />

are humans connected to other humans.<br />

In acknowledging that sign, the people<br />

are acknowledging their fellow men.<br />

-4-


-SPECTACLE OF HOPE-<br />

While this is an extreme example,<br />

we see the communicative potency that<br />

signs can have in a dense urban setting,<br />

when the potential, or even the guarantee,<br />

of spectacle is so great. At the core<br />

of a sign is an exchange between the<br />

signifier and signified. Signs are ubiquitous<br />

in the city: they tell us where we<br />

are, how to get where we need to go, but<br />

also, more importantly, they communicate<br />

mass messages of what the culture<br />

in that city values. The content becomes<br />

less significant than the act: What do we<br />

let occupy the vision of the masses? In<br />

the traditional capitalistic sense, the general<br />

rule in signage seems to hold that<br />

the largest, brightest, most influential<br />

signs are the most valuable in advertising,<br />

and therefore are rewarded with the<br />

highest compensation and prime locations.<br />

This top-down model is safe and<br />

comfortable, but what happens when a<br />

sign of maximum spectacle can be created<br />

for free? Who creates them? Who<br />

is the audience? How does it utilize, but<br />

break away from, the accepted notions of<br />

signage, spectacle, and mass communication<br />

in the city? Graffiti becomes the<br />

subject of study, a grassroots extension,<br />

albeit a subversive one, of the culture of<br />

spectacle inherent to signage in the city.<br />

Like any other aspect of life in this<br />

postmodern world, there is multiplicity<br />

in the perspectives on graffiti, and the<br />

significance of how it has changed over<br />

the years. According to Marshall Berman,<br />

graffiti was about instilling hope among<br />

a decaying community, in this case, the<br />

South Bronx. In the 1970s, New York<br />

City was bleeding. Facing bankruptcy,<br />

the city took cost cutting measures,<br />

reducing social services and teachers.<br />

Buildings were being foreclosed, people<br />

were losing their homes, and neighborhoods<br />

were literally burning. Therefore,<br />

the struggling working poor faced fewer<br />

options of social mobility, and needed<br />

an outlet to tell the world their story.<br />

“The buildings are burning down on one<br />

side of the street, and kids are trying to<br />

put something together on the other.”<br />

The earliest form in which people who<br />

weren’t part of that neighborhood saw<br />

[these achievements] was the graffiti that<br />

appeared on the subways in the 70s. And<br />

this was on a very rickety decaying generation<br />

of grey trains, they painted enormously<br />

exuberant colored names and reliefs<br />

and mottos. ...This was a parable of a<br />

city that’s being ruined, being destroyed,<br />

and they’re saying “we can rise again... we<br />

come from ruins, but we are not ruined.”1<br />

Marshall Berman<br />

It was no accident that graffiti culture<br />

in New York City began on the<br />

sides of subway carriages. The graffiti<br />

writer faces an interesting conundrum<br />

in trying to spread his or her message,<br />

while still concealing personal identity.<br />

Unlike the Times Square signs<br />

— which are a spectacle in their own<br />

right, a work of graffiti must be elusive.<br />

- 5 -


-SPECTACLE OF HOPE-<br />

A blank wall one evening, a masterpiece<br />

the next morning. The subway was the<br />

best target for a graffitist to accomplish<br />

his goal. It could be tagged in the concealment<br />

of a rail yard, but gained maximum<br />

spectacle as it was subsequently<br />

carted throughout the city to display the<br />

tag within every neighborhood it passed.<br />

“The constant motion of subway graffiti<br />

added to its sense of excitement for writers<br />

and viewers alike. Different cars would<br />

pull into each station regularly, each carrying<br />

new tags and pieces,” according to<br />

one graffiti writer. “When we went into<br />

the slums in the Bronx, the train was<br />

elevated so people could see the whole<br />

train. You could see people blocks away<br />

going, “Look at that!” ... ‘People were<br />

crowded up there in front of stores, and<br />

they were looking up and going Wow!”<br />

As we know from history, Berman’s<br />

romantic viewpoint of graffiti as an expressive<br />

outlet was a minority opinion.<br />

Regardless of whether it is colorful or<br />

dull, ugly or beautiful, writing graffiti is<br />

illegal. It put the graffitist into great danger,<br />

and made some average New Yorkers<br />

feel unsafe in an already disorderly<br />

environment. According to one graffiti<br />

writer however, graffiti evoked the most<br />

fear in the political establishment over<br />

the possibility of losing control. “I think<br />

graffiti is freedom of thought and expression,<br />

and that’s what scares the city<br />

and the government the most. It’s simply<br />

done out of their control. It’s a representation<br />

of how uncontrollable youth<br />

is.” The youth had discovered a way<br />

to hack the system of signage, tapping<br />

into the kernel of human emotion that<br />

responds so clearly to bright, decorated<br />

signs among a grey monotonous scene. It<br />

was a voice for a disenfranchised, yet invigorated<br />

population, and an important<br />

facet of that voice was its status as illegal<br />

and deviant, because it was dynamic,<br />

“New York, New York. Times Square and vicinity on D-Day”.<br />

Hollem, MacLaugharie, and Meyer, 1944 by 2014 Graduate Cesar Juarez<br />

-6-


-SPECTACLE OF HOPE-<br />

Photographs by Cesar Juarez, class of 2014<br />

- 7 -


-SPECTACLE OF HOPE-<br />

unexpected, and made the viewer think.<br />

Considering this symbolic threat to their<br />

control, the socio-economic elite of City<br />

Hall and the MTA came down on graffiti<br />

with increased security and harsher<br />

punishments. This brute-force method<br />

of stopping graffiti led to a great reduction<br />

in tags across the city. “In 1984<br />

80% of subway carriages contained<br />

graffiti; by <strong>May</strong> 1989 the MTA was celebrating<br />

the network being graffiti-free.<br />

The change was reflected in the falling<br />

number of graffiti-related arrests<br />

- 2,400 in 1984, and only 300 in 1987.”<br />

The ultimate irony here, however,<br />

is that the demise of graffiti in New<br />

York as a meaningful signifier of street<br />

life came when it was painted on canvas<br />

and displayed within gallery walls.<br />

When graffiti was dangerous, transient,<br />

and subversive, it was telling a real story,<br />

larger than what can be told in the capitalist<br />

world of gallery art. The gallery<br />

graffiti, although still expressive as an art<br />

form, became a pretense for that story,<br />

and “has stripped graffiti of its heritage”<br />

as a mass signifier. “While the painted<br />

picture may appear similar, the experience,<br />

in the processes of painting and<br />

of viewing, has been profoundly altered.<br />

Graffiti has changed from a vision to be<br />

looked at to an object to be consumed.”<br />

of graffiti’ in Queens - has now been<br />

tamed, as the powers of real estate development<br />

have recently demolished<br />

the building to replace it with residential<br />

high-rises. Unlike the site of our Times<br />

Square primal scene, 5Pointz was not<br />

deemed culturally significant enough to<br />

save. It is a reminder of the transience<br />

of the medium of graffiti, that perhaps<br />

it is not quite as precious as art. “What<br />

some considered art, others considered<br />

crime. The writers themselves, however,<br />

considered it neither. It’s no coincidence<br />

that while many critics referred to<br />

them either as ‘artists’ or ‘vandals,’ they<br />

preferred the innocuous term, ‘writers.’”<br />

In the endless battle between people<br />

and oppressive institutions, graffiti<br />

existed on the side of the people as a<br />

colorful and communicative tool of hope<br />

and empowerment. As long as there<br />

is a message to be conveyed, urbanites<br />

will continue to strive to connect with<br />

each other in humanizing ways, to remind<br />

us that we are all here together.<br />

BT<br />

As graffiti as a visual experience transitioned<br />

into a commodity, we have been<br />

witness to the repressing of a movement.<br />

“Graffiti -- that anarchic, powerful, and<br />

threatening form of expression -- was<br />

not to be tolerated by the postmodern<br />

world, not until it was tamed.” And<br />

with that, 5Pointz - the famed ‘mecca<br />

-8-


talks.<br />

Current Editor Kaitlin Faherty<br />

talks with past <strong>Informality</strong> Editor<br />

Helen Levin, class of 2010<br />

Kaitlin Faherty: Helen, thank you<br />

for joining us for our <strong>Informality</strong> Talks<br />

Series. Since you are an alum of the school,<br />

we wanted to know why you chose to<br />

attend the SSA and your feelings about City<br />

College after graduating.<br />

Helen Levin: I wanted to be in a<br />

city studying architecture, and the<br />

program really sold itself as that being a<br />

big part of it. And the diversity of City<br />

College, which is something that everyone<br />

always talks about, but you don’t<br />

realize how un-diverse places are until<br />

you visit them. So, I had done a lot of<br />

college tours, and it really appealed to me<br />

to be in that diverse unban environment.<br />

KF: While you were here, you<br />

were an editor for <strong>Informality</strong> <strong>Magazine</strong>.<br />

We were wondering if you<br />

could tell us about the background<br />

- how did <strong>Informality</strong> get started?<br />

HL: I didn’t start it, but two of my classmates<br />

one older then me, and one younger<br />

than me had started it. They had taken a<br />

course about publications in architecture,<br />

and felt that it was really necessary that the<br />

students had their own. So, they became<br />

a club and asked other people that they<br />

knew who were interested in a more theoretical,<br />

critical writing about architecture<br />

to participate. I was one of the people that<br />

was writing in the beginning and the previous<br />

editor-in-chief was a year older, so<br />

she graduated and then I decided to take<br />

over for my 5th year. That’s the basic story,<br />

- 9 -


KF: We’ve done that to!<br />

but it was just really fun, I had always<br />

liked magazines and DIY kind-of things,<br />

so that was what drove the aesthetic<br />

of the original publication: that it was<br />

kind of scrappy, that we didn’t have any<br />

money, that we were just doing it with<br />

what we could. And then when we<br />

moved into this building, the new building<br />

and got the huge grant we started<br />

to petition the Dean for money to print<br />

in color and that’s when we got really<br />

serious about graphic design and themes.<br />

KF: Where does <strong>Informality</strong> come from,<br />

the name of themagazine?<br />

HL: I think it’s from a little of that DIY<br />

thing. I didn’t come up with it so I’m not<br />

totally sure. But, the way I understand it<br />

is that it’s kind of a vague word that can be<br />

applied to a lot of things, and that it can<br />

be broken down in a lot of ways. Architects<br />

like to pull words apart and put<br />

brackets in them and all the stuff, and I<br />

think we were interested in that aspect of<br />

language. So ‘<strong>Informality</strong>’ can be ‘In-Form’<br />

or ‘Informal,’ all of these wonderful things.<br />

HL: Yeah! We’ve all done that. It’s sort<br />

of a cliché, but it’s also kind of necessary<br />

because we are talking about the components<br />

of things in architecture, and so<br />

we’re trying to be that precise with our<br />

language. So, that’s were it came from,<br />

but then it definitely became a discussion<br />

about “what does that mean in architecture?”<br />

in the beginning. Then it kindof<br />

just became a name that we used.<br />

KF: Side question, could you tell us<br />

about one of the pieces that you wrote<br />

for the magazine, or one of the first pieces<br />

that you wrote?<br />

HL: Yeah, I interviewed Fran Leadon,<br />

who was coordinating first year. Since<br />

we were trying to define what ‘informality’<br />

meant in architecture my task was<br />

to get out of him what he felt that word<br />

meant, and he actually gave this really<br />

wonderful explanation about what<br />

it meant for him as a professor of<br />

architecture, what ‘informality’<br />

meant. I know he told an anecdote<br />

about his father who was also a professor,<br />

inviting his students over for<br />

dinner or having more, I guess, informal<br />

social experiences with his<br />

students, and that being a big lesson that<br />

he took from his father in saying that…I<br />

don’t ever remember going out of<br />

school with him, he was never my professor,<br />

so maybe he did it with his class,<br />

but, he did mention in the interview<br />

-10-


that he made a point of being friendly and<br />

more informal, relationship wise, with his<br />

students in the hallways and at lectures…<br />

it struck me, because I think there is a big<br />

distinction in this school, still, of the<br />

older guard and newer guard, and that<br />

really stands out as one of the differences<br />

in peer-to-peer relationships.<br />

KF: How has the work you’ve done<br />

with <strong>Informality</strong> translated into your<br />

career now, or what you’re doing now?<br />

HL: Well, currently I’m not really sure if it<br />

applies so much but up until a few months<br />

ago I was writing for a blog. I always try<br />

to make that a part of my work. I went<br />

to graduate school and…I don’t know<br />

I’ve always used it as something that was<br />

really important, that shows that I can<br />

really lead. So, there are two parts of<br />

what <strong>Informality</strong> was for me. It was that<br />

leadership of organizing, pulling at people<br />

to write something and contribute<br />

and be a part of something beyond studio<br />

and showing up for class: that community<br />

aspect. And the other part was<br />

just writing and having a voice, which is<br />

something that I think people undervalue<br />

at City College, at least when I was<br />

there. So, I think just both of those two<br />

things together. It gave me confidence as<br />

a writer and a leader and an organizer…<br />

that kind of thing. I hope to do that stuff<br />

again, but I’ve focused more on trying<br />

to be a better designer…because while I<br />

excel at editing and writing I didn’t really<br />

think I excelled at design in undergraduate,<br />

which is why I kept going to<br />

graduate school, and now I’m getting my<br />

license and all that stuff…so who knows!<br />

I think it will all come back around.<br />

KF: Well you mentioned having a<br />

voice, how important do you think<br />

it is to have these informal conversations<br />

in school, especially in architecture<br />

school as a platform for discourse?<br />

<strong>Informality</strong><br />

<strong>Magazine</strong> <strong>Issue</strong> 2<br />

and <strong>Issue</strong> 6<br />

- 11 -


HL: Yeah, totally. It’s very important. I<br />

think architects actually do have political<br />

influence; I’m not quiet sure about<br />

the role of the architect as the Utopian<br />

leader; that’s kind of troublesome.<br />

But, I do think that we have a prominent<br />

role in society when we want our<br />

voices to be heard. You can very easily<br />

it back and let your clients dictate what<br />

you do for the rest of your life, or you<br />

can actually try to change perhaps their<br />

preconceptions of what they think their<br />

built space, and their built environment<br />

i do think that we have<br />

a prominent role in<br />

society when we want<br />

our voices to be heard<br />

should be. So, I think that part of having<br />

a voice is really important in design. And<br />

then I think also that if the work isn’t<br />

there, you know, if all you can get is the<br />

client that all you can do for them is what<br />

they want, you can turn to writing, to<br />

conceptual practice, that kind of thing if<br />

you have the time and the drive to do it.<br />

And if you’ve built that platform and say,<br />

well I have that project and I have things<br />

that I care about, while you are in school<br />

you will always come back around to that<br />

even in your bleakest toilet specifying<br />

moment…I think. At least that’s where<br />

I am in my career. Finding the balances<br />

in what I need to learn in order to<br />

run projects and manage projects and<br />

deal with clients and all of that. The<br />

construction, the real life kind of stuff.<br />

And how I’m going to let the ideas that<br />

I started working on while studying<br />

come back into my life, soon I hope.<br />

KF: So there’s hope?<br />

HL: Yeah, I’m very hopeful. I think<br />

there is always work at this time…well<br />

okay there isn’t always work, but right<br />

now there is work. So, you don’t have<br />

to run away from architecture in order<br />

just to make rent. And I think even you<br />

can find jobs in really amazing conceptual<br />

offices and make a little bit less<br />

money perhaps. But, I think right now,<br />

I sense people are little bit disillusioned<br />

with political structure and that kind of<br />

thing. The whole…I hate to say it but<br />

like ‘the maker thing’ is bringing back<br />

the individual and creativity… So I think<br />

you just have to keep learning and stay<br />

positive, and I think the individual is<br />

coming back.. but in a collective way.<br />

That’s like really vague.. and not in like<br />

a socialist way, but in a supportive way.<br />

-12-


- 13 -<br />

“STREET SMOKE” Photo by Christin Hu


craft.<br />

SITE LINES<br />

ERMIRA KASAPI<br />

B.ARCH/ ALUMNI<br />

THESIS STUDIO<br />

-14-


“ CITY OF CULTURE ” Drawings by Kaitlin Faherty<br />

- 15 -


thoughts.<br />

PUBLIC SCHOOL 1:<br />

EXPERIMENTATION IS LEARNING<br />

KAITLIN FAHERTY<br />

B. ARCH / 4TH YEAR<br />

Take seventy-eight young contemporary<br />

artists, put them in an abandoned<br />

public school, and what do you have? A<br />

collection of works that defined site-specific<br />

art installation and brought experimentation<br />

to institutionalized learning.<br />

What follows the 1976 Rooms exhibit is<br />

nearly forty years of experimentation,<br />

practice, education, and avant-garde<br />

gallery shows and classes that have accumulated<br />

in the history of one of the<br />

largest nonprofit art institutions in the<br />

world, today known as MoMA PS1. But<br />

the Romanesque Revival structure began<br />

with the name Ward School 1, quickly<br />

changed to Public School 1. It was constructed<br />

in 1892 as the first public grammar<br />

school in Queens, and remained as<br />

such until closing in 1963, when it was<br />

left to deteriorate and face demolition.<br />

Public School 1 existed long before the<br />

inception of the P.S. 1 Contemporary Art<br />

Center, and before the prospect of its<br />

affiliation with the Museum of Modern<br />

Art. Spanning these changes in use and<br />

ownership is the essence of the structure<br />

itself, which has, for over a century, existed<br />

in the service of learning.<br />

The inception of MoMA PS1 occurred<br />

behalf of Alanna Heiss and the Workspace<br />

movement, today referred to as the Alternative<br />

Space movement. Her mission<br />

originated in London with the SPACE<br />

program in the 1960s, when Heiss began<br />

her hunt for old dock-site warehouses to<br />

purchase and lease as studio space at a<br />

low cost to emerging artists. When she<br />

came to New York City, she was hired as<br />

the program director for the Municipal<br />

Art Society (MAS), continuing with her<br />

mission to find alternative spaces to fulfill<br />

Workspace as “an idea” of “the innovative<br />

use of space.” The difference was<br />

that it was now happening in New York<br />

City, where it could act as a catalyst. Her<br />

Under the Brooklyn Bridge event in the<br />

summer of 1971 was the symbolic beginning<br />

of the alternative space movement<br />

in New York City, laying a foundation<br />

for collaboration between the artists<br />

who would come to define the art scene<br />

of their generation. The carnival atmosphere<br />

and guerilla-style collaboration of<br />

artists, performers, and production teams<br />

for the four-day event were fitting for<br />

the cause; experimentation was, and still<br />

is, an integral foundation for reclaiming<br />

“neglected urban spaces” as centers for<br />

artistic pursuits.<br />

Exactly a year after the Brooklyn<br />

Bridge event, Heiss co-founded the Institute<br />

for Art and Urban Resources<br />

(IAUR) in 1972, spearheading it under<br />

the authority of MAS. Over the<br />

course of the five years that followed<br />

Heiss acquired a handful of spaces in<br />

-16-


Manhattan and Brooklyn for “The Idea<br />

Workspace.” From warehouse, to lower<br />

Manhattan clock tower, to abandoned<br />

Crown Heights police station, there was<br />

no place that Heiss acquired that her<br />

contemporaries believed insufficient for<br />

their needs: so long as it was cheap and<br />

could accommodate, or better yet, spark,<br />

creativity.<br />

Experimentation and adaptability are<br />

the essences of the Idea Warehouse mission<br />

that the abandoned Public School<br />

1 would immediately embody with the<br />

opening of its first show.<br />

When Rooms opened at the P.S. 1<br />

Contemporary Arts Center in 1976, its<br />

success came from an extension of the<br />

atmosphere created several years prior<br />

in DUMBO and in the small spaces acquired<br />

by the IAUR. The acquisition of<br />

Public School 1 itself became an end to<br />

Heiss’ search. After extensive negotiations,<br />

the abandoned school was leased<br />

to the IAUR and a grant was acquired<br />

for its extensive repair, totaling $133,000.<br />

Rooms opened a short seven weeks after<br />

the space came under the direction of<br />

Alanna Heiss, and the process of its creation<br />

was the process that defined what<br />

is commonly known as site-specific art<br />

installation. The show featured artists<br />

like James Turrell, Alan Saret, Richard<br />

Artschwager, and Lawrence Weiner,<br />

names that today are hailed for the pivotal<br />

works they had begun to create in<br />

response to the availability of P.S. 1.<br />

P.S. 1 Contemporary Arts Center was<br />

established as “a place that provokes and<br />

engages artists and ultimately inspires<br />

the works made and shown there.” This<br />

statement is true about MoMA PS1 still<br />

today. After undergoing renovations for<br />

a three-year period, P.S.1 reopened in<br />

1997 with a new backyard: the street itself.<br />

KF<br />

Fig 1: Battery Park City Authority, Futuristic<br />

Model of Downtown, n.d., New York.<br />

Fig 2: NYC Department of Information, Technology,<br />

and Telecommunications, 200 Rector Place,<br />

1924, New York.<br />

- 17 -


thoughts.<br />

HOUSE HISTORIES:<br />

ABREAK FROM TRADITION AND<br />

UNFOLDING LEGACY<br />

CHRISTIN HU<br />

B. ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

Enter Downtown Manhattan. What<br />

used to belong to the Hudson River,<br />

under countless ships and piers along<br />

the edge of downtown, is now the<br />

built up site of a burgeoning residential<br />

community: Battery Park City. This<br />

is where I live, and where I have lived<br />

for the past eighteen years of my life.<br />

The neighborhood’s conception and<br />

construction began long before I was<br />

born, in the wake of the Urban Renewal<br />

Project and its deterioration in the 1960s.<br />

No doubt influenced by Jane Jacob’s<br />

“mixed use” planning strategies outlined<br />

in The Death and Life of Great American<br />

Cities, <strong>May</strong>or Nelson Rockefeller looked<br />

to create a new city on top of the dilapidated<br />

piers with futuristic towers, parks,<br />

subways, and scenic river promenades.<br />

Amidst financial depressions in the 1970s<br />

and debates about program and housing<br />

for the poor, several plans were proposed,<br />

but it was not until 1979 that a plausible<br />

master plan was adopted. And it was not<br />

until 1987 that my place of residence, Liberty<br />

Court, designed by Ulrich Franzen<br />

and Polshek Partners, was implanted into<br />

the barren landfill of latent prosperity.<br />

Two-hundred Rector Place was conceived<br />

in the post-modern era and utilized<br />

brick cavity wall construction with a steel<br />

frame to optimize the height versus foot<br />

-print conditions – a necessary step for<br />

appealing to developers and providing<br />

enough housing. Rising to forty-four<br />

floors 400 feet above the ground, Liberty<br />

Court was open for new buyers and<br />

renters, specifically the rising middle<br />

class who might work in the neighboring<br />

corporate towers. My mother was<br />

one of those buyers. With its new parks,<br />

transportation, access to stores, and riverside<br />

view, Battery Park City was instantly<br />

appealing to my parents who<br />

were at that time juggling multiple jobs<br />

in the city and living in the relatively remote<br />

area of Valley Stream, Long Island.<br />

Having grown up in China during the<br />

Cultural Revolution, my mother knew<br />

many “homes,” as her family was perse-<br />

Fig. 1<br />

Fig. 2<br />

-18-


-HOUSE HISTORIES-<br />

-cuted and finally exiled to Inner Mongolia.<br />

The apartment itself was appealing,<br />

with its view to the World Trade<br />

Center, but its location was equally – if<br />

not more – significant. The calming esplanade<br />

with accented sculptures and introverted<br />

community gardens captured a<br />

paradise of safety, stability, and pleasure,<br />

which represented the establishment<br />

of her success far away from the then<br />

violent, red-ridden, streets of Beijing.<br />

Stepping off the elevator onto the<br />

plush ornamented carpet, I move, almost<br />

mechanically, through the halls until<br />

I reach a metal painted door, among<br />

twenty-five other metal doors on that<br />

level, with an engraved plate marking<br />

“9V” – “V as in Victor,” as the doormen<br />

always say. The lock clicks clumsily as<br />

I enter and a soothing north light filters<br />

in from a window framed in black. The<br />

kitchen (renovated in 2008) is to my left<br />

and opens up to an elegant dining room,<br />

complete with breakfront and chandelier.<br />

The “bedroom” has since become<br />

a study with my drafting board, bookshelves,<br />

desk, and cushioned bench.<br />

Fig 3<br />

Fig 3: Battery Park<br />

City Authority, The<br />

Landfill Site, circa<br />

1985, edited by Christin<br />

Hu, New York.<br />

Fig 4<br />

Fig 4: Battery Park<br />

City Authority,<br />

Liberty Court Aerial,<br />

1987+, edited by<br />

Christin Hu, New<br />

York.<br />

- 19 -


-HOUSE HISTORIES-<br />

Walk out the door and turn left down<br />

the hallway to the fire stairs leading<br />

down and you’ll find the next apartment,<br />

8C, which was purchased after my<br />

parents’ divorce to support my brother,<br />

mother, and me. Each day, we traverse<br />

these hotel-like corridors and drab concrete<br />

stairs, naturally segregating our<br />

tasks and room functions. Once, a foreign<br />

labyrinth to my four-year-old self<br />

into my memory, the two apartments<br />

have become, somewhat paradoxically,<br />

both stable and dynamic “nests” molded<br />

to my family’s evolving needs and whims.<br />

My mother is fond of moving furnishings,<br />

so we often changed the bedroom<br />

and living room arrangements, but never<br />

have we switched the ninth floor kitchen<br />

and dining room. Those two spaces were<br />

constant. Eating together was a big part of<br />

our family life and was integral to keeping<br />

us both physically and mentally connected.<br />

As if to emphasize this, my mother<br />

has garnered countless plates, kitchen<br />

appliances, and dining room furnishings.<br />

She chose to renovate the kitchen<br />

and dining rooms first, spending large<br />

sums of money to integrate and activate<br />

the two for more enjoyable<br />

cooking and eating experiences, as<br />

well as to encourage my brother and<br />

I to accompany her while she cooks.<br />

While the ninth floor served as our<br />

dining and living room, the eighth floor<br />

apartment acted as mix of living and bedroom<br />

spaces. There have been too many<br />

furniture arrangements to count, but it<br />

has always generally served as sleeping<br />

quarters since we moved in. From the<br />

very first move in day, my brother and<br />

I slept on an uncovered king-size mattress<br />

in the clutter of unfinished process.<br />

Now, it is a guest room and shared<br />

bedroom, where my mom and I sleep.<br />

The kitchen program has changed<br />

from cooking to storage and is currently<br />

undergoing renovations. Although the<br />

plan layout is nearly identical to 9V, 8C<br />

has adopted a completely different function<br />

for my family because of our collective<br />

needs and the nature of our owning<br />

two apartments, albeit on separate floors.<br />

Although these spaces are ever evolving,<br />

there remains a balance of eating and<br />

working (9V) to sleeping and play (8C),<br />

which occasionally gives way under extreme<br />

circumstances (e.g. all-nighters).<br />

This dynamic relationship cultivated by<br />

my mother has always been a source of joy<br />

and excitement for her. My brother<br />

and I often joke about her seemingly<br />

sudden changes in room arrangements<br />

or acquisition of new furniture, which<br />

in reality have been carefully and silently<br />

considered for months or even<br />

years. Our home is truly the establishment<br />

of my mother’s independence<br />

and modern family – it is her conquest<br />

over past hardships and divorce – her<br />

castle of confidence and individuality.<br />

-20-


-HOUSE HISTORIES-<br />

As a dual-apartment owner, my mother<br />

rarely considered the exterior conditions<br />

of the architecture. Rather she<br />

frequently revisited the unique relationship<br />

between the two apartments. We<br />

have often considered acquiring an adjacent<br />

apartment or an apartment below<br />

to somehow connect the two – I say we,<br />

because by then, my brother and I were<br />

old enough to seriously discuss these issues<br />

with my mother.<br />

At one point in time, we had rented<br />

out 8C and moved to the thirtieth floor,<br />

30B, but those couple of years were just<br />

an awkward phase: my father had tried<br />

(and failed) to reconcile with us and my<br />

borther was all about “teenage angst.” I<br />

hardly remember those years except for<br />

my parents’ yelling and my brother’s<br />

“research” of a particular green plant.<br />

In any case, our two original apartments<br />

were already physically connected.<br />

True, the hallways and stairs separated<br />

certain functions, but the four metal<br />

doors did nothing to divert us, whether<br />

we were half naked, moving furniture,<br />

formally garbed, or running barefoot.<br />

The halls, rarely populated with neighbors,<br />

served as our private, extended<br />

doorway to our rooms.<br />

Housing units lived<br />

in by the Hu Family<br />

I like to think of my home as a tangible,<br />

living manifestation my mother’s<br />

history and her family’s legacy. It isn’t<br />

- 21 -


-HOUSE HISTORIES-<br />

namely, my grandmother, great grandfather,<br />

and great-great-grandfather. My<br />

grandmother is an extraordinary human<br />

being – a survivor of breast cancer in her<br />

nineties, she has experienced everything<br />

from near starvation in exile to luxury<br />

train-travel. She has raised seven children<br />

with the help of a hot-tempered<br />

husband, always keeping her calm and<br />

maintaining her integrity in the face of<br />

opposition. This kindly and very stubborn<br />

lady is one who has broken from<br />

the traditions of patriarchal Chinese society,<br />

just as her father had before her.<br />

Her father, my great grandfather, had<br />

risen from the lowly position of a janitor<br />

in a medical school to one of the most<br />

successful doctors and businessmen in<br />

Chángshā, the capitol city of the Hunan<br />

Province of China. He had married of<br />

his own accord and was thus denounced<br />

by his family (one of the most influential<br />

clans in the city), permanently leaving<br />

behind the conventions of the past.<br />

Meanwhile, on my great grandmother’s<br />

side was a merchant of Mobile Oil, a literally<br />

and figuratively groundbreaking<br />

profession in China at that time; and the<br />

story continues.<br />

My home is a dwelling that lives and<br />

breathes, and contains a spirit which<br />

has permeated throughout my mother’s<br />

family history. Her mother’s unwavering<br />

confidence, grand father’s creative intellect,<br />

and great grandfather’s innovative<br />

ability, live through her daily activities<br />

and instinct for furnishing these two<br />

seemingly ordinary one-bedroom apartments<br />

we call home.<br />

Now, as I contemplate my future career,<br />

I struggle with the part of me that<br />

wants remain at home and the other, that<br />

nudges me toward another direction – to<br />

move away and start new. It is the “tradition”<br />

of breaking tradition my mother<br />

has materialized at Battery Park City that<br />

both repels and attracts me – a living legacy<br />

which I have yet to unfold.<br />

CH<br />

-22-


DEFINEINDUSTRIOUS<br />

“ Finding interest in something and<br />

acting on it. You do it because you<br />

find it pleasing and beautiful.” Mark M.<br />

IN FORMALITY<br />

“ Setting methodology.” Gabe F.<br />

“ The root of industrious: to have<br />

aptitude.” C. Camacho<br />

“ Seeing things critically and changing<br />

them—thinking on your feet and<br />

deviating from what you expect.”<br />

K.Faherty<br />

“ Performative arts — An industrious<br />

Mischief Maker.” A.V.L<br />

“ Taking the unconventional and creating<br />

a new.” Midori T.<br />

- 23 -


INK SERIES CHRISTIAN CAMACHO / B.ARCH 2015 ALUMNI


INFORMALITY 8 COVER SERIES<br />

MATTHEW NOONAN<br />

M.ARCH/ 3RD YEAR


LECTURE<br />

SKETCH SERIES<br />

All lectures are free,<br />

and open to the public<br />

Thursdays | 6:30 pm<br />

Sciame Auditorium<br />

The Bernand and Anne<br />

Spitzer School of Architecture<br />

- 25 -


-26-


thoughts.<br />

CHANGES<br />

AT THE EVERYDAY LEVEL<br />

IGNITE<br />

A CHAIN REACTION<br />

URBAN REFORESTATION:<br />

INTERVENTIONS AT THE SCALE<br />

OF THE EVERY DAY<br />

DAVID TOVAR B.ARCH/ 4TH YEAR<br />

In our everyday, overexposure to mundane<br />

topics overshadows the topics that are<br />

critically important to our collective living<br />

and we, as a whole, have embraced this as<br />

a fact of life. The lack of relatability to the<br />

occurrences beyond our perceived realities<br />

has desensitized us to our role within<br />

Spaceship Earth. So long as this culture<br />

remains unchanged, the risk of ignorance<br />

remains.<br />

Within this ignorance lies our greatest risk. While this piece is meant to be relatable<br />

to all, designers in particular must take a moral stance and, through design, advocate<br />

for positive change. Through our professions, we have the unparalleled ability to<br />

help shape the world around us and with this responsibility must also come a moral<br />

stance on the topics here discussed. Advocacy for reforestation extends beyond the<br />

embrace of trees and biodiversity which as undoubtedly important. Instead, let us<br />

view reforestation as an opportunity for sustainable living at the level of the everyday.<br />

In this strive for sustainability, let us also strive for resiliency and cooperation -so<br />

that we may alter the everyday life in our communities for the better. Remembering<br />

the interrelatedness of the different scales in the scalar view of life, changes at the<br />

everyday level ignite a chain reaction of positive change in our personal culture, our<br />

community culture, our societal culture, and our collective culture. Let us strive for<br />

a mutually symbiotic relationship with nature not only because we must but because<br />

we can. Let us remember then that by investing in the present, we are consequently<br />

led to invest in the future. In reimagining our urban future, creativity calls and as<br />

designers we must answer.<br />

On this note, let us design for an everyday that is sensible, moral, more equitable,<br />

and nurturing; for life, as we know, takes place in the everyday.<br />

DT<br />

- 27 -


-28-<br />

Doodle by Hyun Pak


works.<br />

MANHATTAN CHRONICLES<br />

SERIES<br />

*Each piece measures<br />

30” x 40”x 1.5”<br />

Acrylic on canvas<br />

SAL COSENZA<br />

M. ARCH / ALUMNI<br />

- 29 -


Manhattan (left)<br />

Completed in 2002, the first installment in the series depicts the city's surviving buildings witnessing their<br />

friends, the Twin Towers, ascending off into the heavens. The surviving buildings, which include Empire<br />

State Building, Chrysler Building, and Lady Liberty, are shown in a state of mourning and unspeakable<br />

loss at the sight of their murdered friends' departing spirits.<br />

Using the horrific events of September 11th as a catalyst, the anthropomorphic painting won several<br />

awards upon completion, and set into motion a story that drove the remainder of the series.<br />

Manhattan : The Rising War (below)<br />

Completed in 2005, the second installment in the series is darker and more brooding than the original, as<br />

the buildings are witnessing an impending war between their own Manhattan Military, and the elite<br />

T.E.R.R.O.R Group, the culprits behind the death of the Twin Towers. As they witness an air battle<br />

erupting over the remains of Ground Zero towards the center, many questions about the future of the city<br />

loom for the buildings still standing.<br />

Like its predecessor, Manhattan: The Rising War also won several awards, and its story was based on<br />

global events pertaining to war oversees.<br />

-30-


Manhattan : The Wrath of Terror<br />

Completed in 2008, the third installment in the series depicts the violent capture of Manhattan Island from<br />

the deadly T.E.R.R.O.R Group, while a handful of the city’s surviving buildings are shown fleeing from<br />

their island and into the mysterious sand dunes ahead. Chrysler and Empire State Buildings are shown<br />

being captured in the bottom left of the piece, and towards the bottom right, the fleeing buildings are<br />

shown discovering the presence of Freedom Tower, who makes a dramatic debut by rising out of the<br />

sand like a phoenix.<br />

Postapocalyptic in tone, the awardwinning piece took the series into strictly fictional territory, as<br />

the buildings are shown being forced to flee their home and rely on a gleaming new tower to help them<br />

going forward.<br />

Manhattan : Part V working title (right)<br />

Set for completion in <strong>2016</strong>, the fifth and final piece in the Manhattan Chronicles will depict the events<br />

following the reclamation of the island by the buildings. This sneakpeak<br />

image alludes to a city under immense reconstruction, with new towers covered in scaffolding, new streets<br />

paved, and so forth, while Freedom Tower, Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, St. Patrick’s Cathedral<br />

and UN Building, among others, look on.<br />

The finale is meant to bookend the series in a variety of ways, and tie back to the original Manhattan<br />

through both its color palette and the positioning of certain buildings. As the series concludes, a<br />

novelization of the entire story is also in the works, which promises to explore the world of Manhattan<br />

Chronicles much further.<br />

- 31 -


-MANHATTAN CHRONICLES-<br />

-32-


thoughts.<br />

THE MOUNDBUILDERS<br />

ESSAY<br />

TYLELL LUNDMAN<br />

3RD YEAR M.ARCH<br />

Ohio is quiet. The “great muddy flow”<br />

provides an eerie beauty to those who<br />

look up from the road. The plow became<br />

at home here, once the trees were cleared.<br />

It was a forest. The air is heavy, with a<br />

dramatic sky, though not yet like the<br />

West. It is a practical place, for practical<br />

people.<br />

Urban play is bleak here. It fouls the<br />

open line of the plain and offers nothing<br />

in return but detritus, cheap buildings<br />

wired together with real wire and an<br />

ether of exhaust on dusty streets – but<br />

they are big. A parking lot. They are obsessed<br />

with traffic lights.<br />

The familiar sign of the Park Service<br />

says “Earthworks” with a 2 o’clock arrow<br />

pointing off the highway. Modest.<br />

I think of first-year Room 107, 9am. We<br />

are in southern Ohio. These must be<br />

them. What were they called? Prehistoric<br />

American. Not a great civilization from<br />

the South, worthy of Spanish conquest.<br />

There is no gold here, just the land. At a<br />

T-intersection a mile later there is no indication<br />

which way to turn. Monument is<br />

quickly forgotten.<br />

The Great Circle is located just off<br />

Route 16, twenty miles east of the Columbus.<br />

Ironically perhaps, the circle is cut<br />

by the town line of Newark, Ohio, which<br />

runs through its northern edge. It was<br />

part of a much larger complex of circles,<br />

octagons, and allées that covered some<br />

three-thousand acres. The Great Circle is<br />

a thousand feet wide.<br />

- 33 -


There is a man playing with his dog,<br />

and someone else about to set up a picnic,<br />

but everyone seems so far away, diminished<br />

by the force of perspective, and<br />

the unrelenting trees.<br />

Situated along County Road 79, connecting<br />

to the Interstate fifteen miles<br />

away, the Great Circle links a mid-century<br />

residential part of the city with a<br />

modern commercial strip. Lots of people<br />

drive by, and a few park in the cluster<br />

of spaces provided unguarded in front.<br />

There is a closed museum, a miniature<br />

copy of Kahn. From the street-side, the<br />

complex looks like an earthen noise barrier<br />

as one might find in any suburban<br />

office park. From the inside it seems to<br />

undulate with subtle variations in height.<br />

Eight feet is made to seem like much<br />

more behind a five foottrench. People are<br />

small now and they were much smaller<br />

then. This rise is 1,750 years old. That it<br />

should be taller.<br />

The Earth itself is soft here. It turns<br />

under shoes like sand hung in a net of<br />

peat grass. Trees uproot themselves easily.<br />

They overturn the land. Tornados are<br />

frequent. Moles are easily tracked. On<br />

land like this, each step is labored. Every<br />

movement is a negotiation. Person<br />

applies a little pressure, the land yields<br />

some. It stops. A successful pivot and the<br />

process is repeated.<br />

These people were industrious! The<br />

Great Circle is not all there is. <strong>May</strong>be it’s<br />

only ten percent - even more destroyed<br />

now to build schools and roads. There<br />

were grand boulevards stretching miles.<br />

They forked into various directions, a<br />

hundred feet wide. There were processions,<br />

nodes, and squares. It is a Baroque<br />

city plan.<br />

I am driving ten minutes to another<br />

part, not the other end, just halfway. It<br />

is a private country club, “The Moundbuilders.”<br />

Cheeky. I wonder if there will<br />

be any trace left of the ancient forms.<br />

I park on the east side in front of a severed<br />

artery. Two of the boulevards were<br />

here, a clear intersection with both projections<br />

truncated on the bias that leftthe<br />

node intact. It is a vector, or an editor’s<br />

carrot, or an arrow in negative space<br />

pointing back to the beginning. It is a<br />

body with legs cut off by a rustic wooden<br />

fence. I am in front of someone’s house, a<br />

clapboard colonial, crossing the graveled<br />

asphalt and walking along the edge of the<br />

golf course. There is a lot of traffic for a<br />

quiet neighborhood.<br />

They didn’t destroy anything inside.<br />

Dating from the mid 1930s, the golf<br />

course uses the existing form to add<br />

visual interest and a certain degree of<br />

challenge. One island green is set inside<br />

a smaller circle, only sixty feet across.<br />

There is a target mounted on a pole to<br />

help a person find it from the other side.<br />

The white flag for the hole would be too<br />

small to see.<br />

What we do with what we have. It<br />

is moved from place to place. Lower to<br />

higher, nothing lost and nothing gained<br />

but height and monument: a declaration<br />

of place.<br />

They built a golf course here. A sign<br />

of diversion, or respect for something<br />

unique and unguarded? It is kitsch, of<br />

course, “The Moundbuilders,” but it is<br />

better than being leveled and subdivided<br />

on the square. There are still lunar pageants<br />

here.<br />

TL<br />

-34-


craft.<br />

COUR DE MARBRE<br />

ELEVATIONS<br />

JAMES GEOGHEGAN<br />

B.ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

- 35 -


-36-


craft.<br />

[KAHN]VERT<br />

A SEMINAR ON LOUIS KAHN<br />

LESTER LI, SARA VEZELAJ, ANNA KWIATKOWSKA<br />

B, ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

Lester Li, Sara Vezelaj, Anna<br />

Kwiatkowska<br />

-37-


[KAHN]vert<br />

It’s a little over halfway<br />

through the semester. The<br />

leaves on the trees have all<br />

gently settled as piles on<br />

lawns. Squirrels are frantically<br />

stomp around in the<br />

crisped leaves, preparing for<br />

the end of fall. The end of fall<br />

is approaching.<br />

Its 7 minutes past 7 in the<br />

morning. Sara, a close friend<br />

and colleague of mine, says,<br />

“Lester, let’s go for a smoke.”<br />

It’s our 7th smoke break of<br />

the night. We make our way<br />

down to the loading docks.<br />

After the sound of two clicks,<br />

we inhale and Sara asks,<br />

“Have you ever wondered<br />

what we would be doing if<br />

we never applied to architecture<br />

school?” “… yeah, sleeping!”<br />

As our delirious laugher<br />

subsides, I turn my attention<br />

to a cardboard box by a pile<br />

of garbage bags. I look inside<br />

and found black ink cartridge<br />

parts. “This looks like half of<br />

Erdman Hall’s dormitory.”<br />

We mutually understood my<br />

statement was because we<br />

had analyzed that building in<br />

our studio classes, only weeks<br />

before today. We laughed as<br />

if this was the funniest joke<br />

we had heard on our lives. As<br />

I dug through the box to find<br />

more material for my popup<br />

standup comedy skit, I found<br />

a hundred more of these ink<br />

cartridge parts. It was a goldmine.<br />

“Woah… wouldn’t it<br />

be cool if they let us just explore<br />

this. We can cast them<br />

in plaster and cut them up to<br />

make parti models.”<br />

LL<br />

-38-


-[KHAN]VERT-<br />

-39-


-[KHAN]VERT-<br />

Study Models<br />

Scale: 1/32”=1’-0”<br />

Plaster, joint compound, found objects<br />

-40-


talks.<br />

<strong>Informality</strong>’s Editor<br />

Alanna Lauter talks with<br />

Adam Hayes<br />

Alanna Lauter: What or who is the<br />

inspiration for your personal style?<br />

Adam Hayes: For me I think it’s a combination.<br />

One is its kind of a functional aspect<br />

that I like for certain stuff, so for me<br />

it’s not about… well I don’t really like style.<br />

I don’t like the idea of style or trend, or<br />

fashion. I like things to have a purpose. I<br />

think there are two things. It’s partly functionality,<br />

something I’m doing. There’s<br />

certainly a symbolic aspect to things, like<br />

if you wear a suit to an interview, not necessarily<br />

to a rave. But, I think the other<br />

part of it is heritage. You know, I grew up<br />

down south in Texas and there’s an aspect<br />

of that which I carry with me. So it’s the<br />

imprint of all the different experiences that<br />

I’ve had. Going to school I had to wear a<br />

suit and tie, so there’s an aspect of that, to<br />

growing up and wearing boots. So it’s kind<br />

of a sum of all the things that I’ve done.<br />

AL: Do you ever mix your suit and tie<br />

functions with your cowboy functions?<br />

AH: Well yeah. I went out last night to an<br />

event and I wore a suit that’s got a vest,<br />

and I wore my suit and a tie and beat up<br />

cowboy boots. I pretty much always do<br />

that. You know that’s my thing.<br />

AL: Has a particular article of clothing,<br />

pattern or fabric inspired anything that<br />

you have done in design work?<br />

AH: I wouldn’t say specifically, as in like<br />

- 41 -


event. I’ve got my dress cowboy hat too,<br />

when that’s called for.<br />

AL: So has being able to express yourself<br />

been important? Because the stereotypical<br />

type for architects is black and<br />

white?<br />

AH: Oh, I go out of my way…I suppose<br />

that’s a sort of negative version of style.<br />

I overtly avoid this sort of name casing<br />

architectural black on black on black<br />

with one highlight, and my funky glasses.<br />

I think that’s terrible.<br />

“I’VE GOT MY DRESSIEST SUIT,<br />

MY TUXEDO FOR A FORMAL<br />

EVENT. I’VE GOT MY DRESS<br />

COWBOY HAT, WHEN THAT’S<br />

CALLED FOR.”<br />

here’s my plaid building. I think it more<br />

of the construction that’s more of the inspiration.<br />

In a sense that how something<br />

is made, how something is crafted or like<br />

how things are rugged, but also beautifully<br />

done. Or you can wear it a certain way.<br />

So it more has to do with that. It’s not so<br />

much inspired, but to me it’s all a big ball<br />

of wax. How I dress. How I design. How<br />

I live. What I do. It’s all part of the same<br />

thing. The consideration of it is from the<br />

same place.<br />

AL: So do you have specific articles of<br />

clothing where you say, “Okay, this is my<br />

interview…”<br />

AH: Well I mean, within reason. Not<br />

necessarily specifically. But yeah, I’ve got<br />

my dressiest suit, my tuxedo for a formal<br />

AL: So what do you do instead?<br />

AH: Well, I try to do what I want. Like<br />

I said, it comes from a heritage thing. I<br />

wouldn’t put my style out there as “oh<br />

this something you should wear,” because<br />

it’s not your thing. But I think if<br />

you’re wearing style as a trope to tell<br />

other people what you are, I don’t care<br />

whether you’re an architect or a hipster<br />

or whatever, to me that doesn’t make<br />

sense. There’s a mix between functionality,<br />

there’s also a mix between tailoring.<br />

I can wear certain clothes that<br />

others can’t. If I dressed up in hip-hop<br />

clothes… I like some of it, I think it’s actually<br />

kind of cool, but I would look like<br />

a total dumbass. I just can’t pull that off.<br />

It wouldn’t look like me. So there’s that.<br />

Something you look good in.<br />

AL: Was there ever a time when you<br />

wore something and thought, “Eh, maybe<br />

that wasn’t the best idea?”<br />

AH: Like a time? Or a period of time<br />

in my life?<br />

-42-


AL: A period of time in your life.<br />

AH: No.<br />

AL: No?<br />

AH: I mean, I’ve bought things that I<br />

thought were going to.. but in retrospect<br />

said “No I shouldn’t have done that” because<br />

they were for an extreme sport and<br />

I wore them once in my life. I’m pretty<br />

considerate about stuff like that, I don’t<br />

tend to… you know, okay I look back at<br />

what I wore in the 90s, and, the idea of<br />

wearing it now would be laughable, but<br />

at the time, when it was contextual, it<br />

was cool, it was fine. Probably the most<br />

ridiculous outfit for me was after working<br />

for [Renzo] Piano’s office, because I<br />

came back to the states and I was very<br />

“European-architected-out.” It was all<br />

black baggy Armani suits and shoulder<br />

length hair, and that was.. pretty cool<br />

back then. But I love the idea of custom<br />

made stuff too, not just to do it, but to actually<br />

get what you really want. Because,<br />

if you’re buying something and you really<br />

know what you want, and you’re not<br />

buying it to say, “This is Prada, see the<br />

real tag?” then you actually get to determine<br />

what you want, what kind of pockets,<br />

what kind of buttons and so on. That<br />

part I definitely enjoy.<br />

For full interview visit:<br />

www.informalityssa.<br />

Doodle by Hyun Pak<br />

- 43 -


PLANET NYC<br />

GABRIEL FLORIMAN<br />

B.ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

-44-


thoughts.<br />

THREE + TWO COLLECTIVE<br />

AN ARCHITECTURAL WORKSHOP<br />

IN GHANA, AFRICA<br />

MATTHEW ADDEO<br />

B. ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

This past summer I participated in an<br />

Earth-Building workshop in Ghana to<br />

further explore my interest in humanitarian<br />

architecture for social change. I<br />

hoped to interact with habitat and design<br />

in a more primitive form. To renew perspective<br />

outside the built environment of<br />

New York City.<br />

The objective of the workshop was<br />

the realization of a modern single family<br />

home, using both traditional and contemporary<br />

building techniques and local<br />

methods of construction in Abetenim<br />

Village. The site is approximately 50 km<br />

east of Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti<br />

Region in Ghana.<br />

According to Three + Two founders,<br />

there was a balancing act between<br />

a contemporary earth architecture that<br />

is sensitive to surroundings – culturally<br />

and environmentally – that also invites<br />

change. The design inspiration originated<br />

from traditional courtyard houses in<br />

the Ashanti Region: Conceptually voids<br />

within a mass – rather than the multi-story<br />

modern villas, which are essentially<br />

one mass within a void.<br />

Naturally on site the drawings and<br />

de sign altered to meet immediate needs<br />

and challenges. For example, casting<br />

the pillars in bamboo formwork was a<br />

solution to a problem. The metal sheets<br />

originally planned for formwork were<br />

found to be too weak in Ghana. Though<br />

exhausting to construct, the finished pillars<br />

seemed to become the symbol for<br />

our project, separating it from the other<br />

competitors’ designs.<br />

Due to power scarcity we used zero<br />

power tools and focused on hand-drawn<br />

construction documents. Our workforce<br />

came from the village, we became<br />

friends, and ate together. From the production<br />

of mud tiles, to discovering the<br />

cooking process of “FuFu”, a national<br />

favorite dish, there was a full immersion<br />

in the design-build and cultural experience.<br />

If the academy exists to aid students<br />

towards realizing their own architectural<br />

position– so upon graduation we may<br />

not only contribute to the practice, but<br />

also to the discussion of architecture –<br />

trips ands workshops add to the discussion<br />

all the more.<br />

From this workshop I can relay images,<br />

words, and first-hand experience<br />

to the ideas I was beginning to process<br />

here in New York. I can add more to the<br />

discussion of architecture. It was never<br />

about a one-time experience, but another<br />

step in discovering my architectural<br />

identity.<br />

for more information<br />

www.threetwoworkshop.com<br />

- 45 -


-46-


thoughts.<br />

PRINTED FUTURE<br />

FABRICATED DREAMS<br />

AT THE 3D PRINT SHOW<br />

JETHRO REBOLLAR<br />

M.ARCH / 2ND YEAR<br />

I brought my dog, Shiloh, to the<br />

3DPrintShow at the Javitz Center’s 548<br />

Gallery in Chelsea. Spring had finally<br />

sprung and both of us were getting cabin<br />

fever from a winter spent indoors. Upon<br />

arriving at the show, I saw all the major<br />

players of the 3D-print community that<br />

make their annual appearance at MakerFaire.<br />

Somewhat surprisingly, the darling<br />

of the 3D-printer market, MakerBot,<br />

seemed to have sat this one out completely,<br />

with not even a flyer-distributor onsite.<br />

One could only suspect that this year’s<br />

company-wide layoff of twenty percent<br />

of its staff may have had something to<br />

do with the absence. Human-resources<br />

issues notwithstanding, the heavy commercial<br />

3D-printers like MakerBot might<br />

no longer need to fight for floor space<br />

with relatively bush-league, garage-band<br />

outfits like Z-morph and Ultimaker, who<br />

are holding their own but cannot afford<br />

the outreach MakerBot has to put models<br />

into classrooms, universities and fabrication<br />

labs across the country.<br />

Some background: MakerBot hit<br />

the scene in 2009, capitalizing on the<br />

Fused-Deposition Modeling (FDM) process<br />

after the patent had expired in 2004.<br />

FDM is one of the few processes that have<br />

brought 3D-printing and rapid prototyping<br />

closer to consumers’ reach. FDM is<br />

the process of heating up a substance, typically<br />

coiled plastic filament, and laying it<br />

down in thin strands to additively “print<br />

- 47 -


0ut” a physical 3D-model from its<br />

digital 3D counterpart. In addition<br />

to MakerBot, other companies such<br />

as ZeePro, PrintRBot, BigRep, Dynamo3D<br />

and Digital WaBot, BigRep,<br />

Dynamo3D and Digital Wax Systems,<br />

to name a few, all use this process. Alternative<br />

processes like Selective Laser<br />

Sintering (SLS) apply a laser to a bed<br />

of polymer-adhesive-blends, effectively<br />

curing the mixture from the bottom<br />

up to produce the shape seen in the<br />

model.<br />

SLS has always been of personal interest<br />

to me since it doesn’t seem to be<br />

either an additive or subtractive form of<br />

manufacturing. I’ve always imagined a<br />

metaphysical phase-change happening<br />

through the relationship of the laser’s<br />

trajectory and the material bed. More<br />

capable minds would certainly disagree<br />

with this flourish, but what good, after<br />

all, is the promise of technology without<br />

amazement? Wonderful products<br />

and ideas continue to spark intrigue<br />

at these types of events: Open-source<br />

frameworks, peer-reviewed online<br />

product libraries, improved materials<br />

and the continued promise of Moore’s<br />

Law, the expectation of more information<br />

on smaller technology, exponentially.<br />

This 3D-print show, however,<br />

started to seem like themes and competencies<br />

were becoming, for want of<br />

a better word, echoey. The 3D-printer<br />

salespeople who hope to squeeze into<br />

the MakerBot market share have developed<br />

a chilled desperation in their<br />

tone of voice, verging on desperation.<br />

I left the show thinking, If only the demand<br />

for this technology could be as<br />

HEAVEN CONCEPT RENDER<br />

SAINTAH DHASMA B. ARCH / 5TH YEAR<br />

-48-


easily produced as the trinkets they use<br />

to prove their own worth.<br />

On a recent trip to Boulder, Colorado,<br />

I spoke with Sam Sussman of 8 Boulder’s<br />

Pearl district, where he is the resident<br />

3D-printmaster. He shared the neophyte<br />

dream of a printable future along with<br />

his contemporaries as well as the shared,<br />

imagined framework for delivery of this<br />

service—localized providers, or shops,<br />

instead of the machine-on-every-desk<br />

model championed by the personal computer<br />

over the last three decades. Undoubtedly,<br />

one of the principal reasons<br />

that 3D-printing succeeded as an idea<br />

was this fantasy of one day being able to<br />

simply push a button in your own home<br />

and conjure your desired item. It sent<br />

minds soaring. Entrepreneurs like Amazon’s<br />

Jeff Bezos started to wonder: What<br />

-PRINTED FUTURE-<br />

if you could simply buy a particular item<br />

online and pick it up in your garage’s<br />

3D printer in a matter of minutes? This<br />

kind of positive, disruptive, and wideeyed<br />

dream was intoxicating, but was no<br />

match for a recession that crippled even<br />

the most heroic organizations of our<br />

technocracy, like NASA.<br />

The universe imagined in The Jetsons<br />

might be more distant than hoped,<br />

or it might be altogether parallel. Sam’s<br />

3D-printmaster post at the copy center<br />

in Boulder doesn’t make him a captain of<br />

industry, but it does allow Sam to provide<br />

3D-print services to clients who might be<br />

coming in to print a few hundred color<br />

catalogs for a trade show. The store might<br />

also allow for Sam’s expanded electrical<br />

and storage needs, should demand for his<br />

service grow. The contingency plan for<br />

Dmitriy Polyakov<br />

B. Arch 4th Year<br />

-49-


the 3D-printable-future could alternately<br />

be one where consumers visit local<br />

providers at their brick-and-mortar locations,<br />

if the 3D-printer has rights contracts<br />

with participating corporations<br />

such as Etsy, SONY, and Rubbermade to<br />

manufacture and sell their items. What<br />

this allows is for companies to reach a<br />

broader audience of early adopters and e<br />

ensure quality-control of their trademarks.<br />

-PRINTED FUTURE-<br />

We have returned from the honeymoon<br />

of consumer-market 3D-printing<br />

and we need to learn how to make the<br />

marriage work between new design and<br />

new manufacturing. Heavy strides need<br />

to be taken in democratizing not just the<br />

information infrastructure for the consumer<br />

or designer side, but also on the<br />

business end. As designers, we need to<br />

start asking ourselves tough questions,<br />

such as: “Does the industry even need a<br />

3D printer the size of a house?” It can be<br />

a perilous path when form doesn’t follow<br />

function, but even a dreamer like me<br />

can’t help but be excited by the possibility<br />

of going to my local bodega to pick up<br />

Shiloh’s freshly fabricated, monogramed<br />

chew toy.<br />

Nicholas Friedman is a Spitzer alumnus<br />

(Class of 2015) who was a steward of<br />

some of the graduate fabrication facilities<br />

(including a Sratasys 3D-printer and a<br />

Roland CNC router). We discussed our<br />

school’s 3D-printing capabilities, and<br />

we realized that even within our own<br />

programs, we lack masterful control of<br />

the machines, thus driving us and other<br />

students away from the medium.<br />

Recent pyrotechnics notwithstanding,<br />

our model shop’s CNC router is on the<br />

mend (thanks in no small part to Alvaro<br />

Almada and instructors like Jonathan<br />

Scelsa, who have been instrumental in<br />

breathing life back into our fabrication<br />

capabilities). As young designers and<br />

architects, we are the ones who should<br />

be spearheading the utilization of today’s<br />

most advanced processes.<br />

JR<br />

-50-


“BATLLO”<br />

Barcelona, Spain<br />

“INDUSTRIOUS”<br />

Hamburg, Germany<br />

“DE YOUNG”<br />

“CARTOUCHE”<br />

Catskills, NY<br />

“MOSQUE”<br />

Cordoba, Spain<br />

PLACEMENT<br />

STEADILY AND PERSERVERINGLY ACTIVE<br />

ALANNA LAUTER<br />

B.ARCH/ 5TH YEAR<br />

-51-


“CRITICA”<br />

Santiago de<br />

Compostela, Spain<br />

“EDGELESS”<br />

Rock of Gibraltar<br />

“MUSHROOM”<br />

Sevilla, Spain<br />

“COMPANION”<br />

San Francisco, CA<br />

“OMA”<br />

Oporto, Portugal<br />

-52-


[SPY]der<br />

HARVARD GSD<br />

works.<br />

CHRISOULA KAPELOIS<br />

B. ARCH CLASS OF 2014<br />

Today we are living in a digital<br />

symphony. A world comprised of a<br />

convoluted soliloquy of data transfer.<br />

A world where bytes are our currency,<br />

and information is our crack. We are<br />

living in hyperpixelated massiveness.<br />

They are watching us. Our every<br />

move is being tracked, archived,<br />

processed, and analyzed. Our walls<br />

have ears, our windows eyes, our<br />

spaces brains. The world is watching.<br />

How can we defend ourselves<br />

against a world so untrustworthy, and<br />

discreet? Simple. We track it back.<br />

The [SPY]der dress reverses the<br />

role of surveillance, to make the user<br />

and the surrounding population<br />

aware of the presence of security<br />

cameras. When the dress senses<br />

the presence of security cameras, it<br />

engages by lifting its arms. The closer<br />

the wearer gets to the gaze of the<br />

camera, the higher the arms raise.<br />

Once they are within the cone of<br />

vision, the arms point in the direction<br />

of the camera, both seducing and<br />

fighting with its gaze.<br />

-53-


-54-


-[SPY]der-<br />

-55-


-[SPY]der-<br />

-56-


“BREATH & READ” Photo by Christin Hu


Doodle by Hyun Pak<br />

The Bernard and Anne Spitzer School of Architecture<br />

141 convent ave, new york, ny 10031 / 212-650-7118<br />

acting dean: Gordon Gebert<br />

chair: Julio Salcedo-Fernandez<br />

ssa1.ccny.cuny.edu

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