CIRCUS ACT

Photo from www.bexcarney.com, “Fire Jammers”

Bex Carney is a multitalented performer with experience in theatre, film, dance and circus arts. Bex spends much of her time with Circus Orange as the Artistic Director, actor, fire performer, dancer and choreographer.

dpai’s David Premi had the opportunity to chat with Bex to learn how she turns an idea into a circus performance, for the Strange Process podcast.

“With Circus Orange [it’s about] what kind of performance I can give the audience and where I can push boundaries.”

Strange Process is a series, by dpai architecture inc. and Mohawk College, where we explore and demystify the process of how multidisciplinary artists produce their work. Listen or watch below:

CREATOR OF SOUND

We had the opportunity to sit down with internationally acclaimed recording artist Jeremy Greenspan to talk about his process as a creator of sound.

Jeremy, best known as half of the electronic pop act Junior Boys, says he became obsessed with music as a kid. Today, his creative process is still something he considers to be play.

“I’m a very equipment-based, hardware-based musician. I have a recording studio where I have a lot of gear and so for me, it’s about tinkering with a bunch of equipment, some of which I’m very familiar with or some of which I’ve just got. It’s a lot about play. It’s a lot of complete randomness – it’s literally like playing with toys.”

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. You can watch the full interview on Youtube. Or listen here:

Check out his band at their website juniorboys.net or on Twitter @JuniorBoys.

AN INHABITED SPACE IS A LIVING EVENT

Ala Abuhasan

In the last couple of years, we have been introduced to “interactive architecture” as architecture that moves, changes and is perhaps affected by its users. However, interactive architecture is not strictly kinetic or physically moving; rather, it is architecture that suggests events and influences the behaviour of its occupants.  During an interview about the topic, Brian Massumi states that “what is central to interactive art is not so much the aesthetic form in which a work presents itself to an audience … but the behaviour the work triggers in the viewer.”

A good example of this is the Teshima Art Museum by Ryue Nishizawa. The museum has very minimal character. It is made of a single concrete shell with two elliptical openings connecting the interior space to the surrounding environment. In 2010 the museum was home to Matrix, an installation by Rei Naito. The installation constitutes of water droplets entering the space through the elliptical openings and landing on the concrete floor. Once inside, the droplets move on the floor’s gently sloped surface and gather in small puddles. The installation is not static; it changes daily as the wind moves the droplets from one place to another.

We enter the space barefoot, in silence. The space of the museum is empty except for the small water droplets. The rhythms of natural light flooding the interior and wind moving the small water puddles intensify our sensory functions and make us more attentive. The space invites us to listen, slow down, pause and reflect. It demands our physical and emotional engagement. The integration of architecture, art and surrounding nature creates an immersive environment. This is interactive architecture: it has the power to affect us, to make us feel, to “trigger our behaviour.”

Teshima Art Museum. Photo by Iwan Baan

Interactive architecture is like abstract art—its materials exceed their materiality and become a form of pure expression. An abstract painting, for instance, is not the sum of the materials it’s made of—paint on a canvas—it is the movement, the emotion it evokes and the behaviour that results.

We spend our lives inhabiting spaces that are designed. As architects, considering the fully lived experience—rather than strictly focusing on the predefined function or materiality of the space—will allow users to resonate with, to feel, to experience and to remember not only the spaces we create, but their experiences within them. After all, the two are inseparable.

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

Max Schramp

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

Patty Clydesdale

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

Petra Matar

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.

STRANGE PROCESS

Sandy McIntosh, Architect

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

For our first episode, Principal + CEO, David Premi sits down with architect, Sandy McIntosh to discuss his journey through music and design.

“The more we talk about it and the more we explore it, we see maybe [the artistic process] isn’t as mysterious as we think. Maybe there is some continuity or logic behind the method in which an artist creates a piece of work,” said David.

Listen below or watch on YouTube.

DESIGN DISRUPTION

David Premi

Rendering of a proposed streetscape by dpai.

Historically, disruption has been associated with bad behaviour; we all remember those disruptive students at school. But today it has evolved to have a different meaning. From a business or organizational perspective, “disruption” is defined as changing the traditional way that an entity operates, especially in a new and effective way.

Disruption is now ubiquitous. Profound transformations in industries such as transportation, hospitality and music continue to occur through disruptions sparked by Uber, Airbnb and Spotify. The design industry is no exception. Tradition must be challenged if a design process is to be robust. 

Creating a virtual reality

Today, designers can create functional, virtual replicas of their projects, neighbourhoods and cities. These virtual models can be navigated in 2D or visitors can be immersed in virtual reality. Bus schedules, tree species, existing built fabric, complete with materials and textures, and an accurate daily cycle of the sun’s path can be embedded into these models. Cars and pedestrians roam the streets based on actual traffic data. Soon we will be able to include dynamic computer simulated wind, air quality, and temperature data to assess the environmental impacts of a change to the built fabric.

Unlike the cumbersome, expensive and time-consuming practice of wind tunnel testing, unlimited iterations of a proposed building or park can be studied “live” with this technology. Designers can see the impacts of their design as it is in its virtual context. Through web sharing of the model, the visual and environmental impacts can be experienced dynamically by many groups of people simultaneously. Public consensus at this scale could have a profound impact on any political issues surrounding a proposal.

Disrupting traditional processes

As a public engagement tool, this technology has the capacity to seriously disrupt both the traditional development and planning processes. Imagine a proposed building, twice the height permitted by zoning, is empirically and publicly demonstrated to have only positive impacts. Conversely, what if a permitted height is shown to have unacceptable impacts, pressuring developers to reduce the density on which the economics of a development were based? Land values could be affected on a hyper-local level.

Could virtual reality hold the answer to a truly democratic and participatory urban design process?

CITIES AS A CANVAS FOR EXPERIMENTATION

Petra Matar

As architects and urban planners, we need to let go of the idea that we have complete control. Instead of thinking of our work in terms of a final product, what if we approached it as an ever-changing canvas, that both shapes and is shaped by people and the environment?

Architecture isn’t a linear process with a single vision of what is right, but rather an infrastructure of human life, within which users and their activities move, adapt and change. We don’t see our work as absolute – it is an intuitive collaboration of many inspired individuals overlaying their visions in a shared community. We need to employ intuition and encourage participation in modifying and creating environments that perform and inspire.

A disconnected design process

The making of structures and cities has become a disconnected process. Codes, regulations, minimum requirements, deadlines and budgets tend to reign supreme over intuition and thoughtfulness. These are crucial factors, but too often ignore qualitative conversations and considerations.

A property built by a developer is typically built to maximize revenue – an understandable requirement – however, its contribution to society cannot be ignored. The process of city building can and should give designers the opportunity to practice good intuition, and end-users the freedom to participate and modify their environment.

Hands-on growth

The organic formation of dense human habitation in many parts of the world holds intrinsic beauty and order, as a manifestation of immediate human need with a close relationship to materials, highly conditioned by scale.

Photo by Agung Raharja

Densely inhabited areas can inspire cities to grow according to need, employing experimentation and improvisation. They represent spaces that have been designed with human scale fundamentally considered. Cities are an act of human creation – why not design them to celebrate human participation, ingenuity and creativity?

Opportunities

Imagine a design process that sees beauty and opportunity in experimentation; design born of imagination, fully driven and supported to apply and experiment with its vision. Imagine a city that is a canvas of experimentation.

Our wish is for cities to invest in realizing bold new ideas – not for the sake of self-image, but for the sake of society. Despite our best efforts at planning, cities grow and change over time without end results being fully known. As city dwellers, we must be encouraged and empowered to participate in the creative evolution of our urban environments