Is it possible that copying is a good idea? 

These are two pen and ink drawings from high-school, back in the day. The first, is a copy of a Canaletto, I think, etching from the 1600s. It depicts a Gothic cathedral nestled within a small village community in the background. In the foreground, we see a rural setting, a small river with a stone bridge spanning across. There is a line of circular watermills breaking up the perpendicular and diagonal composition. Our assignment was to: 1) copy as intimately as we are able to; and 2) create another drawing as though you were in the scene but looking at it from another angle, and to draw like Canaletto.

To achieve the first part is to study closely, and by seeing deeply at the example given. We had to reconstruct the composition as exact as possible, examine the quality of the lines, and imitate the styles. From the process, you learn many things. You learn that tool matters. That Rapidograph pens cannot reproduce the line quality of a silver plate engraving. That scale matters, a small 8.5 x 11 piece of paper cannot get the kind of details you hope to achieve. By reconstructing the other view, you learn the difficulty of imagination, the challenge of getting the perspective right. You learn the satisfaction of being original. You also learn that originality doesn't have to mean a complete departure from the 'origin'.

All in all, it was a very educational process I'd say. In reflection, the M1 studio’s long drawing that was introduced a couple years ago carried this same learning attitude. Derive from the past and project into the future.

So, can we be copycats as well as be creative at the same time? Absolutely! However, in the context of academic honesty and plagiarism, how would this example fit in?

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Kicked a Project Lately?

I wish people would stop asking me what my favorite buildings are, I do not think it really matters very much what my personal favorites are, except as they illuminate principles of design and execution useful and essential to the collective spirit that we call society.

Ada-Louise Huxtable

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The quote well articulates the purpose and motivation behind architectural criticism.  Less the personal opinion of the critic, more the possible illumination and betterment of the society, or within the context of the school of architecture, design education of the student.  The title of this essay rephrases Kicked a Building Lately? the 1973 book written by the late architectural critic Ada-Louise Huxtable. It aims to offer observations found in today’s architectural criticism in the school of architecture, particularly through the lens of Hong Kong where I currently teach. Kicked a Project Lately? is meant to illustrate the idiosyncrasy and  nuanced exchanges that occur between the studio instructor, the guest critic, the student, and the audience during the design review.

Critic Sees

In 1960s, the American artist Jasper Johns made a series of drawings and sculptural reliefs making parody between the art critics and the apparatus they helped to create. In The Critic Smiles, he made visible the much-desired blessings from the critic by mounting four human teeth on a toothbrush. This détournement assembly of the oral parts and the hygienic product mocks the interdependent and inimical dynamic between the artist and the critic. As if to suggest the critic is the “domesticated barbarian who rips apart the artwork with his clever words”.  In The Critic Sees, Johns materialises “the pathetic situation of the critic who is unable to apprehend anything beyond his own words, opinions, and preconceived notions about art”  as asserted by the art historian Roni Feinstein.

Unlike what could be interpreted as an adversarial relationship between the critic and the artist. In the school of architecture, criticism plays an indispensable part in the education of the architect-to-be. Criticism is the battleground where the conceptual motivation and the representing object it aims to signify are put forth by the student as an intellectual construct. The critic is the experienced professional who oversees the battle.

What do you think of this?

For those of us who are studio instructors, we are being addressed as a critic when we hear this question.  Each week, once or twice with around twenty students, we engage each student in a twenty-minutes dialogue, Q & A, critique session on the development of the project. Simply responding by “I like it” is not only unacceptable but it is frowned upon. Instead, we are requested, by the power associated with us as the 'the critic' to probe into the design, the drawings, the models, and the incomprehensible diagrams, sketches, notes and sometimes, “nothingness" to reveal the incongruence between conception, perception and effect. Even delving deep into the inner psyche and the emotional state of the students by asking "How is your mood?" or "How do you feel?”, more akin to consultation at the shrink's office than a traditional classroom interaction.

Ritual

For anyone who has gone through formal education in architecture, getting critiqued is a normal affair. A seasoned student standing on the receiving end of the critique by a panel of expert jury can sometimes be as uneventful as pairing wasabi with nigiri. Yet, just like the raw and shattering power of tasting wasabi as an amateur, getting a critique for the first time could be a tearful and mouth-shattering experience.

The incremental feedback system of the critique has been a part of the design education since the mid-eighteenth century beginning from the École des Beaux-Arts.  The format of jury system which started in Europe and proliferated during the Twentieth century has made a globalised architectural education possible. Walking into any school of architecture around the world, one immediately understands the modus operandi.

The critique or the “crit” is intended to be an interactive way of evaluating and enhancing the quality of the architectural project. It is the place where design ideas are: “introduced, explained, discussed, evaluated, defended, appended, discarded, rejuvenated, and consolidated.” It offers a platform for the student to clarify her line of thinking and to develop a cohesive way of addressing the project through the assistance of the crit. The critic gives feedback to a broad range of subjects, from the humanities, graphics to the technical. The conduciveness of the crit depends on several factors such as, composition of the jury (race, gender and age), quality and commitment of the student and critic, size of the jury, media for which the project is presented, space where the presentation takes place, etc.

David and Goliath?

Leading and participating in a critique can at times feel like a boxing match. The two opponents, each represented by the student and the critic engaged in a match while a body of spectators looks-on with great cheer and awe. Usually, the inherent imbalance of the power structure, differences in experience and knowledge between the critic and the student rid of any possibility for the student to win the match. Nevertheless, the legend of overcoming the powerful Goliath offers one of the key attractions for the spectators.

The crit can take many forms. From a one-on-one desk crit between the studio instructor and the student that is highly intimate– the Sparring Session. To the theatrics of a thesis review involving a panel of external juries in– the Title Fight. Or, in between these poles other arrangements such as pinups of work-in-progress sketches, quick prints, and paperless presentations– the Exhibition fight, each designed for a particular purpose. Like the rules for professional boxing, the arrangement for the crit is well-understood by those in attendance. Not much is different here in Hong Kong, with even the occasional ringing of the bell to stop the crit.

Authority

The critic assumes the role of the judge which exudes an aura of authority.  An authority whose command and mastery of the subject matter supremes over the students. Commentary and advice all come with an absolute and definitive undertone, plus an occasional hint of mysticism. This initial perception of the critic’s capability is shaped in part by architecture being a professional programme. As if one could draw a parallel between an analysis of a misappropriated use of symmetry in the design of a cenotaph by an architectural critic, to that of a patient being diagnosed with an early form of coronary artery disease by a doctor.

Sometimes the authority is an elderly gentleman with a suit and tie who speaks with a deeply accented voice. But more often than not, it is a young man in his early 30's that we see in the School who wears a Paul Smith shirt holding a cup of black coffee from a local boutique café in his hand. The young critic arrives at the school ready to mingle. With his eyes set on the look-out for the next important persons in the room, where he is ready to recite his long-form curriculum vitae.

Despite his youthful appearance, the critic is someone of a particular expertise and knowhow— so thinks the motivated year-one student. For why else would the critic be there in the first place? The student soon learns by year-three that the critic is not always the authority he is assumed or projected-to-be but in fact, someone who wishes to be away from the mundane of and relief from the every day architectural practice. 

To return to the crit room is for him, a rekindling with the naiveté he once felt.  That fuzzy feeling of optimism which propelled him to study architecture in the first place. So, in order to regain that nostalgic urge of making the world a better place, the critic accepts the invitation to attend the mid-review. Even at his own expense of salary deduction by taking 5-hours away from the office, before having to return to the routine afterwards.

Contest

Sometimes the critic can sense that their authority is being challenged in public when the student disagrees or offer a critical defence to their comments.  When that happens, the critics are compelled to hit back so to reclaim their authority and save face in front of his colleagues, students, and audience. This defensive act is often revealed through the changing tone of the critic.

Every so often the critics are competitive with each other, where one critic tries to out-theorise, out-critical and outwit the other. Each attempt to identify the most nuanced graphic or verbal “error” by the student so to deliver a spectacular and devastating blow. When such instance occurs, the critic is essentially dismissing the main purpose of the crit.

It is also interesting to witness the crit being transformed into a propagandist platform to duel-out old and unfinished business. Many critics within the small circle of architecture are aware of each other’s viewpoints and positions.  Therefore the critics can arrive at the crit ready to either prophesies the future, or reclaim the wonders of the past, or anything in between. Advocating ideologies to advance their own cause. Minions of Parametricism, New Urbanism, Projectivist, OMA-New Ruralism, Sustainable Opportunism and do-gooders of the Bottom-Up-Community-Advocacy are just some of the examples. It often goes go on as if the student and the project pinned-up are absent from the critic’s field of vision. In these situations, the critic’s aim is no longer centred on the student but eyeing instead, for the attention of the audiences in the room. This kind of debates, although highly relevant, diverts the critique from its primary purposes. 

Convoluted

Being an effective critic is by no means an easy task. In a review, the critic is expected to find something to say even when he is bored, dazed, spaced-out and speechless. In those instances, the critic might be tongue-tied, inarticulate and all over the place with his comments like a headless fruit-fly flapping and buzzing his wings without any direction.  As such performance plays out, the critique becomes confusing, distracting and brings no constructive message to the presenting student.

To be clear-headed about what to say, and to focus on the weak elements with rooms for improvement. The fully concentrated critic needs to communicate clearly through succinct comments, typically under just a few minutes. The criticism not only has to be reasoned, it also aspires to be enlightening, provocative and humorous so to sustain the short attention span of the Twitter or Weibo-age Millennials.

Short of doing so results in further detachments by the students since they do not always see the relevance of the comments made, references cited and the allegory being thrown at the student by the critic. As such, the student is often passive and standing idle, waiting for the end to come.

Double-dip

Hong Kong adopted a 3+1+2 legacy pedagogical system from the British RIBA. It is a three-year bachelor programme with one-year internship and a two-year master's education. This structure offers a flexible arrangement for those students unsure of their choice of major. 

As opposed to being labelled a drop-out midway from a five-year programme, it gives some the possibility to pursue an alternate choice of study upon receiving the Bachelor degree. For many who are determined and wishes to pursue a professional degree, the students will return to their alma mater to get the Master’s degree thus creating a double dipping phenomenon.

Blasé attitude

What often happens after spending roughly a year as an intern, or year-out, in an architectural practice where the student has the chance to get baptised by the ‘real’ world, is that they return to the graduate programme with a higher degree of confidence. Not with the intellectual understanding of what architecture is, but how architecture is practised, at least in the everyday setting of Hong Kong. 

The double dip phenomenon allows the studio instructors to witnessed the difference, before and after the internship. Although the unquestioning, agreeable and unantagonistic behaviour of the standard-bearer of a Hong Kong student still persists. The once virgin-eyed year-one student is now superseded by a skeptical one. Conveying through her dismissive gaze to the critic what it is like to be out there.  “We have been to the outside, I have seen the real world, you know?” as if the instructor was an orphan born in the ivory tower.

What we witness is the becoming of the blasé attitude of the double-dipping student. She is no longer the student itching for the next opportunity for a crit with the instructor, instead, looks for the right moment to split from the next conversation.  The naiveté of believing the authority is the person sitting across from her is now history.

Virtuoso: The Deconstructivist

Sooner or later the critic is able to redeem himself.  Particularly when the aura-possessed virtuoso ‘The Critic’ shows up to the reviews. Or, occasionally referred to as the "butcher is in da slaughterhouse"! It is the moment when the critic regains his reputation from the blasé student.

I once heard Bernard Tschumi made the assertion that the best critics are those who can break down a project before building it back up.  Every now and then such virtuoso does appear among us, the average critic. With The Critic, a.k.a. the butcher sitting among us, we began listening carefully to the presenting student on her motivation to reinvent the museum typology. After a round of evaluation goes by, the butcher begins to speak. 

The bona fide critic began deconstructing the project by transgressing its internal logic. Through deciphering the elemental components, the connoisseur is able to arrive at the heart of the rationale for the concept. Able to drill down to the bottom of the truth and nothing but the truth, citing passages from Sennett and Foucault along the way.

As if he is unaware of the strength of his own analysis, The Critic goes on to crack open the specific deficiencies of the drawing by citing its lack of fluidity in its lines. The usual method of model-making also falls victim to the round of critique.  Finally attacking the giant divergence between the motivation and the production of work plastered around the walls and floor of the crit room.

Kicking the project down on a path as if it is unworthy of any comments for the next five minutes without a pause. The negative sentiment would not be the end of the critique. Instead, just when the devastated student was about to pin down and leave, The Critic takes a turn making it right.

Virtuoso: The Builder

The Critic spends yet another five minutes building the project back up with all the promises and glories that one could imagine borne out of a piece of white paper, or a Ju Ming sculpture popping out of a stone quarry.  Describing the potentiality of the fluid-deficient lines as the student’s strongest asset yet. Arguing that it represents a form of robust resistance to the contemporary kitsch museum discourse. The connoisseur critic builds upon the students verbal presentation, graphic and three-dimensional representation into a cohesively considered proposition.

Eventually, the student's leaves the session perplexed, yet exhilarated.  Should she feel good about her project, or should she restart from the blank slate? This question becomes the intellectual struggle for the next three days. The student is stimulated into thinking critically for herself.

The skilful critic described by Tschumi does not come often. But from time to time, the gentleman does appear.  At its best, the critic is both feared and loved by the students. A sentiment not exclusive in the academy but in practice as well. “I wanted her attention, but I was scared of it…. She was tough, but her words were beautiful” recalled Frank Gehry when attending Ada-Louise Huxtable's memorial on June 4, 2013. 

Practicing the Kick

Great criticism rarely affirms the status quo. When the critic engages in a project, he listens intently and looks for inherent inconsistencies. He points to gaps where others saw none, gaps between “drawing and design, plan and occupancy, projection and imagination, and he finds order in places where others thought it did not exist.”

"Feared by some architects, loathed by some developers and not universally admired by scholars.” The qualities that epitomise who Ms. Huxtable was, reflects the best in a critic. As a student in the art of architectural criticism for the past eight years, I remain humbled and thrilled by the opportunity to offer judgements on student’s imagination to make a better world. 

Whether it is for a simple proposal of designing a Room for Reading, an introductory project catered for high school students interested in architecture. Or, a nuanced, provocative and complex proposition of a thesis project for candidates of Master of Architecture. Making a constructive and enlightening criticism remains a challenging task. As such, for my part, I will continue to practice my kick for the betterment of the students.

ON STUDYING

“From September to December 1992, I went through an intense period of pure study. I studied and studied; I revisited my love of cubism. I also looked deeply into the sheer joy of Mattisse’s work and looked upon the still lifes of Cezanne with a deliciousness. I had the time to listen without interruption to blocks of music. This was a special moment for feasts of the eyes and ears. Not since my youth had I had such stretch of time to take things in — in slow time. Study became absorption through the body— that is true study. Cells were being made, a sense of relational electricity, current connection.”

John Hejduk in Adjusting Foundations

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Amancio Williams and Rafael Viñoly

Before HSBC of Norman Foster, there was the Suspended Office Building by the Argentinian Amancio Williams (1913-1989). The desire to achieve the free-open plan is evidenced in the plans and expressed in the exterior expressions. William's work was first introduced to me by Álvaro Malo through another interesting project called the House over the Brook in Mar del Plata (1943-45), with a base structural archway spanning 19 meters. The photo of the ascending arch stairway from the creek reminds me of Rafael Viñoly's Pittsburgh Convention Center. Is it pure coincidence due to a problem in search of an efficient solution? Or perhaps a subconscious connection between the two architects who were both trained at the University of Buenos Aires some 20 years apart. And the ethos of problem-solving through clarity and care in structural simplicity is engrained in the education of both?

Has anyone poched lately?

Poche as a form of surplus strategy is deployed by Boullée as a necessary mediator between the boolean interior forms and the primitive exterior shape. It serves as an interfacing agent between the geometries, allowing the juxtaposition to be absorbed within. While the deployment of poche is evident in the plan, it is in the section where Boullée exploited the potential to its fullest. Through the fattening of the poche, the scale of the projects is further exaggerated by the augmentation of the massing. 

10 Rules for Drawing Poche

  1. Find and define the geometric genesis of your case study.

  2. Look for poche from the case study as opportunities for extrapolation.

  3. You may analyse a fragment from the whole.

  4. Translate your findings into a spatial syntax, or rules that govern your design. 

  5. Based on the spatial syntax, design a single-room building.

  6. The single-room building has inside and outside.

  7. The single-room building may have aperture(s).

  8. The single-room building can be as big or small as you wish.

  9. The single-room building will possess a new and extrapolated poche.

  10. The single-room building shall possess characteristics of your case study.

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LEGAL but CORRUPT #2

Ever wonder why there is a constant and frequent reconstruction of perfectly good concrete sidewalk and asphalt roadways around the city? Such reconstruction is rarely an upgrade, I.e. replacing non-absorbent/ porous material with one that is, or a pavement that is aesthetically elevating. Instead, they are typically replaced with another set of the same perfectly good concrete sidewalk and asphalt roadways.

Why is that?

Could it be that there are pre-approved budgets that needed to be spent? Could it be that these budget were part of an earmark that was never necessary in the first place? Could it be that such labour and expense is necessary to keep the folks in the construction employed? Who benefits from such practice? People, society, environment?

Could it be, could it be?

Perhaps all is with good intention.

Perhaps not.

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LEGAL but CORRUPT #1

This tiny stretch of land, Pak tin street playground in Shek Kip Mei has possibly one of the highest density of railings in Hong Kong.

#LegalizedCorruption

Ever wonder why there are so many railings in this city? is it purely to protect the safety/ welfare/ crowd management of the people; or mismanagement/ communication between the government departments? Or are there corrupt intent/ financial gain behind all of this?

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PARADOXICAL CERTAINTY

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Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities. Dr. Seuss

One last time? I thought last year would be the last time I write the Foreword of the Grad-book. It turns out this would be the last instead. As such, I am honored to do so once more. Similar to last year, I wish to offer a few snippets of thoughts for you as you move ahead to chart a new course. Hopefully, it will confuse you a little and perhaps to provoke you a bit also.

CERTAINTY

We often connect certainty with confidence and conviction, a positive attribute we often admire. However, when it comes to design there might be something else worth considering. In The Storm of Creativity, Kyna Leski writes about the importance of “uncertainty” in the design process. To doubt, to question and to be insecure about one's initial preconceptions to what the design question calls for, in her mind, is an essential and indispensable quality to creativity. An open mind that asks the fundamental and essential question of what is? at the beginning of a project.

HYPOTHESIS

How do we draw a distinction between fiction and reality? Is it a clear line or a fuzzy verge situating in-between? When we create an architectural proposition in the School of Architecture, or anywhere else for that matter, is it reality-to-be? Or could they be experienced as what they are whether in drawing, model and other means? Alternatively, should it be considered as a spatial hypothesis always in the state-of-becoming? Is the Architectural Project reality, fictional or transitory in between the two?

ABSTRACTION

In the The Mask of Medusa John Hejduk describes the phenomenon in which the painter starts with the real world and works toward abstraction, and when he’s finished with a work it is abstracted from the so-called real world, but architecture is different. The architect starts with the abstract world, and due to the nature of her work, works toward the real world. The most interesting architect is one who, when finished with a work, the original abstraction is retained…. and that is also what distinguishes architects from builders.

NEW

Is it possible to be new? Not in the sense of wearing a new dress one just bought from the mall. But a NEW dress with a completely different performance and appearance? Under this premise, is it possible for architecture to be new? Or must the new always be understood as part of a continuum from the origin? Is the understanding of the new conditioned upon the old in order for it to be defined? When the new is so radically different from its origin does it need a separate category? If such is the case, can architecture really be new?

GAME

In 1975, Bernard Tschumi famously put out a series of Advertisements for Architecture composed of provocative texts and images. One of which is titled Ropes and Rules. On the poster he proclaimed: “Look at it this way: The game of architecture is an intricate play with rules that you may break or accept. These rules, like so many knots that cannot be untied, have the erotic significance of bondage: the more numerous and sophisticated the restraints, the greater the pleasure. The most excessive passion always involves a set of rules. Why not enjoy them?” Within the academy this provocation is fittingly true. However, what if we were to apply such advocacy in the context of Hong Kong? Would the bondage be so tight that it simply suffocates and pains without any pleasure?

ENDURANCE

We face a dilemma in architecture when it comes to endurance. On the one hand, there is a desire for permanence, from the material we choose to the space we design. In earnest or in naivete, we hope that the design we make and the actual building constructed would endure the test of time. Yet on the other hand, we also know that the only constant in life is change. Given these forces, is it really possible to design for endurance or indeterminacy?

What are your certainties and what are the paradoxes in your life? What are mine? It is the part of life that we should be most thankful for. Without it, we would be looking through the right end of the telescope always. To the 23rd class of MArch graduates, many, if not all of you were students and friends of mine, I wish the best to you. CHANGE is on your way. Having said all of this, I REALLY will have nothing else to say.

"The section is a connection between two worlds"

In Vertex and Vortex- A tectonics of Section, Jennifer Bloomer described the convergence of inscription and incision as the moment when a section is born. The collision of these two actions is what is conventionally called the poche, which is referred to by Bloomer as the floaters. It is described as a thin layer of liquid substance. A black dot that lies in between the brain and the object observed. To inscribe is to capture a situation by giving it a visual presence. It is a trace, a memory, a description in between the viewer and the spatial narrative beyond. To incise is to discover the unknown of the beyond. It is a physical act, a temporal state of reading and understanding. Furthermore, the notion of gravity and orientation must be considered in the making of a section. She argued that a plan divorced from gravity is a section through transparency, that "a plan is a section which demands the presence of gravity". It must be connected to the world of tension and compression.


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THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF WETLAND PARK

Make no mistake, this is a view of a mid-rise residential development by Sun Hung Kai Properties (SHKP) currently under construction. A mega complex edging inches away from one of the three only wetlands in Hong Kong. Any reasonable planner would have stopped 'The city' along Wetland Park Road. Instead, it allowed two parcels -Area 112 and 115, each measured at 30,000 and 96,600 square meters- to be designated as "Comprehensive Development Area". After a bit of research, it turns out CDA is the code word for "to be designated as whatever the developer wants and to be sold to the highest bidder years later".

Legislative Council paper No. CB(2)1405/09-10(01) shows that in 2010, these two lots were discussed in the context of the Panel on Welfare Services Subcommittee on Poverty Alleviation. The lots were considered as potential sites for Elderly Community to "promote social and economic development". According to the same paper, it was supposed to produce 1,900 jobs and be a hub for the local community.

Who would have thought? In 2014 the two lots were sold to SHKP for "HK$4.19 billion, which at HK$1,800 per square foot is the lowest in 21 years." Wow! Shocking. Not only are the lots being changed to residential use (vis-a-vis VILLAS OF THE MONTH), it was sold at a below market rate. Instead of being a hub for the community, i.e. Wellness Centre; Elderly Resources Centre; Vocational Training Centre etc. it will be, when completed, a mid-rise exclusive residential property with unobstructed views to the Wetlands.

I am neither claiming corrupt and/ or incompetent officials/ planners were involved, nor am I suggesting the developer tactically bribed somebody. It is to merely point out the unjust system we are living in. Perhaps it is all lawful but the smell of the fishiness stinks. If only the birds could complain, this might not have happened. Or better yet, officials with longer and creative visions.

References:
https://www.legco.gov.hk/…/ws_pa/…/ws_pa0504cb2-1405-1-e.pdf

https://www.info.gov.hk/…/20160429/s16fi_A_TSW_65_1_gist.pdf

https://www.info.gov.hk/…/20171031/s16fi_A_TSW_70_2_gist.pdf

http://www.property.hk/eng/news_content.php…


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PUBLIC DRAWING 2019

In the spirit of Carl Lavia, Yoshiharu Tsukamoto, Momoyo Kaijima and the Exquisite Corpse. The first assignment for [Hong Kong Archive Super Ordinary 2047], will be Drawing City. A drawing that is about the city, about the collective and about observation and imagination.

10 Rules for Drawing City:
1. The 10 meters long drawing shall be divided equally by the number of students.
2. Students will be randomly assigned to the numeric confine.
3. Each student is responsible for drawing within the numeric confine.
4. Within the numeric confine, there are 3 AREAS identified as a, b, c
5. AREA a = b+c.
6. The streets of Kowloon will be the source of inspiration for Drawing City.
7. The drawing could be in any view the student desires i.e. elevation, axonometric, section, perspective, etc.
8. You may draw the streets, buildings, signages, and people. You may draw what is there, what was there or what will be there.
9. The student's main drawing shall be drawn in AREA b.
10. AREA a and c shall be created based upon your neighbour's main drawing. You shall react to his or her drawing.


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The Internship

America was the land of opportunity back in the day, particularly for those of us who were born in the 3rd world countries. The US of A was recognised by fellow Taiwanese as the "children's paradise". For kids who perform poorly in the academics, the legend has it that there are other paths to channel their interest. As such, any parents with the means and desires will, almost without a doubt sent their kids to America: the "Beautiful Nation". A literal translation.

America did not disappoint. For someone who was at the bottom of the class from elementary school to junior high, I somehow found my way into La Guardia High School. The specialised school with an emphasis on music, art and performance, and made famous by the film FAME. After taking an elective in "Architecture Design", I was recommended by my teacher, whose name I have forgotten, to apply to a job at an architecture office. With a portfolio in hand, I went to the job interview. When asked to explain my work, I did not know what to say, except to point out what I had done and mumbled.

With much surprise, I was offered the position. So as a 16-year-old, I got my first office job at Baxt and Associates, a small 8 person architectural practice in NYC. I was given a desk, my own phone line, sitting next to the diazo (blueprint) machine. The after-school government + employer programme split the cost to pay for my $4.25 per hour salary. I worked Monday to Friday, from 3 to 6 pm for 15 months. I remember stopping by the hotdog stand for my daily sausage snack. It was my first step toward becoming an architect.

There I met wonderful architects Ben, Dick, Jonathan, Kelly; secretary Bronwen and others, who taught me how to pick up red lines, roll the pencil when drawing a line; how to take measurements on a job site; write proper architectural lettering and use the protractor to recreate curves. Of course, I also run errands and bought Ben, the boss his favourite seltzer everyday. Jonathan was the one who brought me to my first shoe shine and explained to me the importance of having well presented shoes.

As a parting gift before I went to RISD, they hand drew two gift certificates for me. One was for a helmet of my choice at a bike shop owned by Dick and Ben's friend in Brooklyn. Another was a $100 certificate at Charette, the now defunct art supply store in Providence. It was a memorable experience, they taught me not only the rudimentary knowledge of architecture but also how to treat people with respect, no matter how they look like, what age they are or where they are from.

I was surprised to find this picture on their website recently (the firm has been renamed Baxt Ingui). A picture which I took in 1990 with my Nikon N2000 film camera. I remember taking the shot from the street level on Park Place looking up the big office window. I also remember giving them instructions with hand gesturing of when the shutter will be clicked.

Is America still the land of opportunities that welcome immigrants today?

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How many make a collective? Two or a million?

Asian Cities of Influx

What we have learned through the history of the city is it has always been in a state of change. In fact, this is one of the key characteristics that distinguishes the city from the village or the rural conditions. Beyond its physical manifestation, change as an idea is inseparable from the city as a project. What we have also learned is that any conception in which the city is idealized as an idled formation like those “envisaged by total design such as Filarete’s plan for Sforzinda”1 will immediately be D.O.A. (dead on arrival). The reason was clear. The complex and contradictory nature of the city will almost always outperform the deterministic principles of the ideal city. Despite this preface, there has never been such a degree and speed of change as the one we have witnessed in Asia from the last century.

In recent years, Asian cities have largely followed the development model of tabula rasa, real estate dominance, and economic prioritization by focusing on the needs of the individuals. Concerns for the collective or the public life have been largely ignored, or at best serve as a negotiating chip between the powerful. The “fierce urgency of now”2  for architects to confront this issue of the public life or the collective has never been greater.

 

Hong Kong and Taiwan

Between the early 1960s and the 1990s, Taiwan and Hong Kong witnessed a rapid economic development propelled by a low-cost labor force. Both regions consistently maintained 7 to 8 percent growth every year, and each established itself as an export economy making consumer goods of its day.  

In the 1980s, when Hong Kong demonstrated its transformation from a manufacturing city to a world-leading international financial center, Taiwan, on the other hand, had proven itself for contributing to the information technology revolution. This progress came after three decades of emphasis on economic transformation, lifting itself out of the “Third-World” category. A change predicated on the inevitable transmutation of the urban landscape.

Rural farmlands in Hong Kong’s New Territories were urbanized within a decade. Its population multiplied from 300,000 in the 1960s to nearly 4 million today.3 The once agriculture community whose operation depended on sourcing of irrigation systems now requires a network of infrastructures to support its everyday function. In Taichung, the once vibrant city center has become old and derelict as people disperse outward to create new satellites in the suburbs. The reliance on automobiles further exacerbated the sprawling. This metamorphosis of Hong Kong and Taichung brought with it structural reorganization and completely reshaped both cities.4

 

Forming of a Type

Long before Rem Koolhaas’s ‘Elements of Architecture’ (Venice Biennale, 2014), there was Jean N.L. Durand's attempt to determine the fundamental principles of architecture. For Durand, it was necessary to establish the basic elements that characterize architecture as a discipline. Just as Euclidean geometry begins with the definition of ‘point’ and ‘line’, architecture also needs to have its own ascertainable elements. The fundamental elements of a building and, by extension, of architecture, were for Durand those that can be found in any building, regardless of its style. His theory was painstakingly recorded in Précis des leçons (Accurate Lessons) and published in 1802.5

Fast forward 150 years. What does it mean to work with the elements of architecture in the Asian cities of influx during the 1970s? Part and parcel of the rapid development of the city came the necessary byproduct of the ‘typical-type’ in architecture. The typical-type enables the infestation of mass housing, satisfying a growing post-war public. It is the great promise of Modernism put into real-world application. The mastermind behind this, of course, is not Durand but Le Corbusier

In Asian cities like Taichung, where valleys of farmland were eradicated and replaced by the Dom-Ino House, the axiom of Le Corbusier and the replicability of its fundamentals put all other challengers to shame. The sheer scale of its germination alone is unprecedented in the history of cities. In Hong Kong, hectares of waterfront and seashores were ‘reclaimed’6 to make way for thousands of cloned crucifix towers from the fiction of Ville Radieuse. Looking at Shatin7 from the eye of a flying drone, it is possible to see the smiling face of Le Corbusier.  

 

Path of Resistance: Revisiting the Typical

Premise upon the Asian cities of influx – of perpetual action, reaction and transaction – and as a starting point for the studio. Several questions were asked before establishing the pedagogical framework: What role does Architecture have in generating a collective sense of place, of creating a ‘pause’ within a city that is becoming highly transactional?8 Is it possible to use Collective Housing as an agency to trigger placemaking through a balancing act of architectural forms with cultural and social contents? If the motivation is to make a place in a highly urbanized city like Taichung, must the premise of the design project be ambitious in scale through enormous Floor Area Ratio? Could an alternative development model be possible, allowing the propositions to fit within the existing neighborhood rather than the prototypical blank slate approach? Is it possible to reimagine a new typical through collective intelligence? These are the questions posed in the process of forming the U5 Studio for our Year 4 students?

 

Collective to Collaborate

Deterritorialization is the norm in architectural practice today; it is not an exception but an expectation. It is anticipated that students of architecture will either work in an unfamiliar territory or on projects which disposition is foreign. Under this assertion, what are the means and what is the end to the path of education in preparation for this evolving profession? In other words, what should the form of knowledge in architecture be? How should it be conveyed and learned?  

Ever since the last century, architects have either worked in contexts that are alien to them or developed design approaches from their home of origin and transposed them to a different context. Whether it is Frank Lloyd Wright’s influence to and by Japanese architecture, or William Burton, the British national who helped to plan the city of Taichung, such exchange had become a common praxis. In this era of globalized architecture, the end is not about producing students with architectural knowledge catered to a local industry, but instead for them to develop architectural intelligence and skills that are transportable.  

Collective studio, by ways of collaborating with others students of architecture, is what we believe the first step toward familiarizing with this cross-boundary/cultural inclination. By departing from the students’ home city, it leaves behind their blasé attitude and stimulates them into seeing and experiencing with greater awareness. The curiosity to explore and deviate from the expected is further enhanced.

 

Critical Collectivism

For the first time since the inception of the compulsory U5 core studio, our students have the opportunity to consider the global challenge of housing design through the local conditions of Taichung. The objective of finding a middle ground between the universal necessity of habitation and the particular character and texture of the context echoes Alexander Tzonis and Kenneth Frampton’s call for a critical regional awareness of architecture.

For educators in architecture, it is a necessary step to reflect on the evolving and changing landscapes of architectural practice. One that is increasingly homogenous and globalized. The collaborative studio allows us to highlight the importance of producing architects with knowledge not catered to a particular industry or locality, but instead, it is for them to develop architectural intelligence and skills that are mobile and fluid, therefore enabling them to contribute and manoeuvre reflectively according to the specific situations confronted.  

This article began by posing the question: what is a collective? And how many people does it take? It is not only a provocation to bring awareness to the topic of collective housing, but also an attempt to seek a different way of working vis-a-vis collective intelligence. Like all the design studios in our School of Architecture, this U5 Studio is meant to sow a potent seed in the young minds of the students.

 

1 Pier Vittorio Aureli (ed.), “Introduction”, The City as a Project Hegel, Berlin: Ruby Press, 2013.

2 Is it possible to shepherd a collectiveness in architecture emulating the idealism of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.?

3 Fan Shuh Ching, The Population of Hong Kong, Hong Kong: University of Hong Kong Press, 1974.

4 As people’s livelihood became more prosperous, the demand for quality built environment increased. The fundamental purpose of architecture was also questioned, moving from the basic desire for private spaces to an increased awareness of public spaces for social and cultural production. 

5 According to Durand, Architecture is a science and an art at the same time: like science, architecture demands knowledge; like art, it requires talent. Talent is none other than the just and easy application of knowledge. This correctness and facility cannot be acquired except by sustained exercises and multiple applications. In the sciences, one can know something perfectly after having done it a single time. But in the arts, one cannot know how to execute something well without having done so a considerable number of times.

6 Oxford Dictionary defines ‘Reclamation’ as: “the process of claiming something back or of reasserting a right.” So why is occupying a former seafloor by human beings called reclamation? It is a highly anthropocentric word to which we have become numb.

7 A “new town” of 630,000 inhabitants with a density of 45,000/ km2, Shatin was built entirely on reclaimed lands previously nonexistent.

8 Economic exchange and monetary transaction as a form of social interaction as described by Georg Simmel in his essay “The Metropolis and the Mental Life”, in Donald N. Levine, ed., Georg Simmel: On Individuality and Social Forms (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971).

Source: How many make a collective

MOMENT OF TRUTH

    "The truth is rarely pure, and never simple." Oscar Wilde, 1891

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WHAT TO SAY?

I have been coordinating the Thesis Project at CUHK since 2012, the longest serving faculty member for this post to date. This means, I have been invited to write the foreword section of the thesis book five times prior. For what else can I say about the ‘thesis project’ that I haven’t already written in the past attempts? Perhaps through the lens of an (attempted) academic/ intellectual? Done that.  What about from the role of a seasoned (somewhat) practitioner? Done that also. Maybe as a compassionate teacher who discourages the students from falling into tremendous self-doubt? Tried that in 2016-17. Perhaps to craft a coherent argument for continuing with the optimism for believing in this thing we do called ‘Architecture’? Yes, did that as well. After a long struggle, I have decided to write down snippets of provocations as my ‘gift’ to you but also as a reflection and critique to our own microecology at the School. The order in which they appear bears no intentional agenda or hierarchical order.

 

FICTION

Architect Mark Rakatansky suggests that architects don't just make things, they also make up things[i]. Too often architects forget the second, often the equal if not the more important part- that architectural fabrication involves stories, scenarios and situations through which they can communicate to a larger audience. This is the narrative necessary in conveying a message through the proposed architecture.  Isn’t the architectural studio part of the educating process in learning how to ‘make up things’? That in order for the project to be mesmerized by an audience, it must possess qualities like those found in a captivating works of fiction, qualities that appeal to the soul, intellect and the emotion? Such as: focus (the power to bring an issue into clear view); logic (a coherent system for making your points); a sense of connection (the power of personal involvement); simplicity (clarity and focus on a single idea); imagery (the power to create profound spaces with architecture); creativity (the ability to invent); excitement (designs with energy that infects an audience with your own enthusiasm); provocation (architecture that makes people think or act); a sense of Wow! (the wonder your architecture that imparts on an audience); transcendence (architecture that elevates with its heroism, justice, beauty, honor). That, my friend, is the highest form of architecture.

 

FAME

To be different is what architects that achieved notoriety says when describing their projects. It is the aim of what they hope to do and accomplish. It is also why their lectures are usually less inspiring than anticipated, typically organised linearly with pictures and drawings of their design, annotated with their words. The simple fact is, it is precisely because of their visual difference that we recognised their work in the first place. Therefore as an audience we go to the lecture to be enlightened by a narrative, to discover a revelation of a rigorous process, perhaps a unique methodology of design. But instead we learned about their non-transferrable intuition, a particular feeling to react, an eureka moment, and we hear the use of exhaustive metaphors. Therefore we leave the lecture room knowing nothing more than when we entered 60 minutes prior.

 

POSITION

The Dutch architect Michiel Riedijk describes position as the ground through which the work is operated on[ii]. Not only is he articulating the physical grounding of the project, but the origins through which the work is conceived and rooted from, ethically, socially and technically. The position an architect adopts with regard to a given assignment is fundamental to the design of architecture. For example, should an architect work with any commission that comes her way, regardless of the social, political and ethical considerations? Should an architect work in every part of the world because she is able to? What is the financial condition through which the architect is working under? Should the architect be a service provider to the client, accommodating the client’s demands as best as possible? What role should the architect play in the construction process, as an observer or provide fantastical imagery without intervention to the production of the building process? These are not rhetorical questions, the nature of the position is utterly important particularly due to the permanence of the building and its impact to the city and the society at large.

 

AUTHORITY

The critic assumes the role of the judge which exudes an aura of authority, an authority whose command and mastery of the subject matter supremes over the students. Commentary and advice all come with an absolute and definitive undertone, plus an occasional hint of mysticism. Sometimes the authority is an elderly gentleman with a suit and tie who speaks with a deeply accented voice. Other times it is a young man in his early 30's that we see in the School. Despite his appearance, the critic is someone of a particular expertise and knowhow— so thinks the motivated year-one student. For why else would the critic be there in the first place? The student soon learns by year-three that the critic is not always the authority he is assumed or projected-to-be but in fact, someone who wishes to be away from the mundane of and relief from the everyday architectural practice. To return to the crit room is for him, a rekindling with the naiveté he once felt, that fuzzy feeling of optimism which propelled him to study architecture in the first place. So, in order to regain that nostalgic urge of making the world a better place, the critic accepts the invitation to attend the review.

 

MOMENT OF TRUTH

In the words of Frank Gehry, he describes the act of coming into being with himself when confronting the question of the beginning[iii]: “but what interest me- and I've talked about this before- is the moment of truth. Take the simplest example of a painter: you have a white canvas, a brush and a palette of colours and you look at this white canvas and now you've got to make a mark. And I call that moment of truth. It's clean and pure. It's direct. It's hand-eye coordination, it's the brain, it's your thoughts, it's millions of years of history of art packed into your brain, and it's what you had for breakfast and whether your kids were a pain in the ass, and all kinds of stuff. So that first moment is a moment of truth. And I kept looking for the analogy in architecture, because in architecture you can hide behind so many things. You can complain: 'Well, the client wanted this. I didn't want to do it but I had to' or 'The building department wouldn't let me do this' or 'The budget wouldn't let me do this.' So you have an excuse mantra that's two miles long if you want to use it to explain why the building looks like it does. I was looking in my own psyche and in my own life for the moment of truth where you're clean of all that; where you can't hide. I don't want to hide. I just want to get out there. I don't want to have any reasons. I've got to keep the rain out, maybe, but I only want very simple reason, so it's not cluttered. And Philip Johnson gave a lecture in which he talked about one-room building being the greatest buildings of all time. And that's it! 'You gotta just make the one room.' And so I started thinking of that as the moment of truth in architecture. And I still think about things that way. The rooms are discrete and they're objects in their own right, but then they're part of a continuum, part of a bigger picture.”

 

What is your moment of truth? What is mine? It is the search that most of us are still looking for. To the 22nd class of MArch graduates, my best wish to you. Having said all of this, I will have nothing else to say.

 

 

 

 

[i] Mark Rakatansky, “Fabricators”. Tectonic acts of desire and doubt, p12 – 27.

[ii] Michiel Riedijk, “The Drawing”. The architect’s raison d’être , P 42- 48.

[iii] Frank Gehry, “The Pritzker Architecture Prize acceptance speech, 1989.