THE STRANGE PROCESS OF A THING MAKER

Photo by Hamilton Farmers’ Market

We are excited to share our latest podcast episode! This time we talk with Dave Hind, a local thing maker, visual artist and sculptor on his creative process and how he brings his ideas to life.

Strange Process is a series by dpai architecture and Mohawk College where we explore and demystify the process of how multidisciplinary artists produce their work.

“I’m a big fan of the process because it never follows a particularly straight line,” says Hind. Listen to the full episode to learn more about the methods of this local creator, whose collaborative and public art works can be seen around Hamilton.

Listen below or watch on YouTube
Follow Dave Hind @davehindthingmaker
Visit his website, davehind.com

VIRTUAL REALITY BRIDGING THE GAP OF EMOTIONAL CONNECTION

by Max Schramp @maxschramp

Experiencing virtual reality (VR) was previously limited to reading books, watching television or movies, and experiencing one’s own imagination. Whether it was through the “OASIS” from Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One or directly embedded in your subconscious like Christopher Nolan’s Inception, people have been fascinated by the concept of alternate realities where anything is rendered possible.

A common trope among all examples of such environments is that these realities are generally accessed through some form of game platform. I’m willing to bet there’s a whole generation of architecture students who, when asked why they chose this their field, would respond “Minecraft.” Not only is Minecraft the world’s best-selling, with more than 176 million copies sold, it is also widely considered to be the perfect sandbox game.

“Sandbox” is synonymous with the genre “Open World”, which according to Wikipedia can be defined as “a level or game designed as nonlinear” i.e. “open areas with many ways to reach an objective.” For years Minecraft existed without any storyline or objectives, but as a virtual universe where players created their own narrative. This poses the question: How does a low-resolution world of cubes with no objective or narrative keep people of all ages immersed for years? For me, the answer is an emotional connection. Experiences with other humans in real-time that harness multiple senses are the key to compelling immersion.

Virtual Connection

Over the past year, a group of friends and I have organized three “virtual festivals” in Minecraft. Our group grew up playing hours upon hours of the game during our formative years, while concurrently pursuing careers in electronic music. As we became more established artists in the electronic scene, we realized there was a clear gap in our community: it’s financially impossible for a community of international, independent musicians and fans to meet up in the same place at the same time and perform.

Using our knowledge of Minecraft, we collectively “hacked” a version of the game that would allow us to create a music festival. We built a virtual world that involved not only stages, but an entire environment to explore. This included various sculptural works, houses, carnivals, city streets, and even an art gallery featuring visual artists from our community. We asked artists to record sets and stand on the stage, “DJ’ing” in front of the crowd of virtual characters, who listened to the audio “in real life” streamed through an external website. All our marketing material was parallel to that of real-world music festivals, the exception being that the entire event took place in a virtual world.

Most people can relate to the feeling of getting goosebumps when they witness their favourite artist live, surrounded by hundreds of people experiencing the same feeling. We successfully recreated this phenomenon within a virtual reality for the over 100,000 people who attended our events. This has many implications for the future of performance art and the integrations of architecture.

VR and Architecture

There have already been multiple derivative events, but now there is now proof that virtual experiences don’t belong strictly in art galleries. As virtual reality becomes more accessible, will architects be able to immediately integrate international communities into their work? Why couldn’t millions of people attend the largest sermon in the world, all from their own home? How would one go about designing a cathedral, a temple or a mosque, for millions of people to experience? Without the limitations of physics or budget, how would the formation of spaces change? When speculative architecture has a feasible platform to exist, will it?

Applications of virtual reality in the field of architecture are still far from their full potential. Walkthroughs with VR headsets can engage with our visual senses, but truly experiencing architecture is more than that. How can we as occupants engage emotionally with the virtual representations of the built environment? How can we as architects simulate or encourage human interaction while in a virtual world? These are questions that will push the field and the technology further, as the possibilities remain infinite within virtual space.

WHY I DON’T LOVE GLASS BLOCK

By Patty Clydesdale, Registered Interior Designer, dpai architecture

My colleague Petra loves glass block. Ok, full disclosure, I don’t hate it. I love glass block when it’s used in a clean façade of a building against a backdrop of white stucco, and with an interior space that’s minimal and strategic. The play of light and shadow on a clean backdrop of a wall is to be celebrated. Just watch Agatha Christie’s Poirot for glass block that is on point and in context.

It has its advantages. It’s inexpensive (kind of), it can be easy to install and it provides limited privacy. Most importantly, it lets in glorious, beautiful natural light that is refracted into an interior space through the inherent patterning of the glass. What’s not to like about that you ask?

In my opinion, these qualities do not redeem its ugliness when used out of context.

Although glass block can provide access to natural light while covering up an unsightly wall or exterior view, there are many more effective ways to do this, like installing an operable window, or a sliding or overhead door. If that is out of the question, work with your neighbour to beautify your view: paint a mural, build a community garden wall, hire a graffiti artist if you wish to celebrate an urban landscape and your neighbourhood. Chances are if you could haul away the unsightliness, you would. If you can’t, make lemonade out of lemons. But, please don’t hide away from humanity and context – embrace it.

Glass block imposes an inherent grid pattern obstructing the view and casts a gridded and mottled pattern into the interior space.  It can limit you to embrace the shadow cast as the main event. As a designer, nothing drives me crazy more than when a door or small window is removed to be filled with glass block, or worse, like when an original stained-glass window is replaced with glass block.

If I’m being honest, glass block is not the issue. The issue is in its application. Glass block has become a tragic victim that I cannot continue to blame. When it comes to glass block, and all good design, there is a need for knowledge and advocacy.

WHY I LOVE GLASS BLOCK

By Petra Matar, Designer, dpai architecture
@bonpetra

There is something poetic about glass block – its intrinsic paradoxical materiality, scale and depth. 

Inherent in its name, glass block combines the heaviness and opacity of masonry and the lightness and transparency of glass. This intrinsic paradoxical materiality is probably one of my favourite properties of glass block. Like masonry, the size of the block is human in scale and has an inherent modularity giving it a familiar logic. Even though it is glass, most glass block is not perfectly see-through. This translucency allows freedom to build privacy into spaces without compromising light. It also allows for diffusing direct light that hits it and depending on its shape and composition can cast beautiful shadows. Glass block has a visible surface depth which adds to its complexity; expressed through the material itself, the shadows it casts, and the shadows and colours of figures beyond it that translate through.

Glass blocks of the past

Most people have experienced glass blocks in tacky applications like in the dentist’s office waiting rooms with a dusty plastic plant sadly leaning against it; the small sad window in an underwhelming washroom; the curved glass block wall near the principal’s office, but a material’s potential should not be judged as such.

Give glass block a chance!  

It has been used in numerous beautiful and inspiring buildings for close to a century. How can you hate the glass block in Maison de Verre? It was built from 1928-1932 and is still a modern, relevant, and iconic piece of architecture. Glass block has even been used in great contemporary buildings such as Maison Hermès by Renzo Piano, Dumas + Horacio by Central De Arquitectura, and Termas de Tiberio by Moneo Brock Studio to name a few.

Next time, give glass block a second glance. See it with fresh eyes. Don’t hate it for how it has been used but love it for how it can be used.