parametrics or Parametricism?

I recently came across Patrik Schumacher’s 2008 manifesto “Parametricism as Style,” and the subsequent recent article in The Architect’s Journal, and while initially excited at the prospect of a bold declaration, a closer reading makes me take issue with the framing of the argument as a whole.

While I appreciate the attempt to harness the disparate threads that compose this loose yet ubiquitous movement, it seems to me that his idea of “Parametricisim” is too limited, and smacks more of a post-rationalization for previous work than a declaration on what is to come. For one, the primary association of parametrics is with form, and a limited range of forms at that. Any quick look around the country at the range of art and architecture being produced using parametric methods reveals that the use of parametric systems is not limited to attractors and sub-d surfaces. This manifesto therefore is more in line with the MoMA “International Style” show of 1932, than, say, Futurism – curatorial and reductionist. Any work that does not fit the bounds defined by this manifesto is not “Parametricist” and therefore not parametric.

It is my conviction that the true future of parametrics lies not in the simplistic application of ruled fields to form, and more in a complex, unpredictable and powerful relationship between designer, idea and object – the invention of new tools and methodologies that will allow architects and artists to design and construct increasingly complex works with unprecedented freedom and ease. In order for this future to have a real impact, these new tools and methods must not prescribe a form, or it will never grow beyond the small circle of current practitioners and acolytes.

I am not against the idea of proscribed style; coherent discussion of architecture is becoming increasingly reliant on the invocation of form and style, which is altogether a good thing. Frank discussion of style not only democratizes architectural criticism, but focuses it more tightly on what is present, not what is intended. Mr. Shumacher’s declaration and description of this finally “mature” style is adept and appropriate. I just wish he had chosen a different name. What he is describing is part of parametrics, but it is not Parametricism.

parametrics or Parametricism?

The Next Year

It’s official – in one year I will be graduating (hopefully) from the MDes program at the Harvard GSD. The MDes program is a short (2 semester) research-based program, which is a great match for my interests and ambitions but unbelieveably short. It’s daunting to imagine producing a thesis is 9 months. What this means is that, essentially, I’ll have to know what I want to do before I walk in the door. This blog, over the next few months, is going to have to become a public sounding board for my (brief) future in academia.

So, without further ado, my first salvo: the admission essay that got me there in the first place, which I’m still about 90% enthusiastic about.

As 21st Century cities shift and grow, the distinction between urban and rural is being blurred by zones of interaction that go beyond our traditional understanding of suburban typology. There is enormous variety of these peri-urban environments – ex-urban centers, urban farms, favelas, panelak cities, bidonvilles, or entirely new agglomerations that have yet to be categorized.

Even as cities are shifting and evolving across the globe, our understanding of the possibilities of communal space seems to have stagnated, or in some cases even regressed. While there is significant experimentation in the fields of public landscape and architectural design, in very few of these cases has the exploration included real consideration of alternative ways of engaging the spaces, ways to help the populace create a lasting connection and truly claim ownership over new communal spaces. The dominant understanding of public or common space has changed very little in the last century and a half, in which time societal norms around the globe have evolved tremendously. In addition, many cities and urban designers are interpreting interest in pre-modernist forms of zoning and planning, or new systems based upon these ideas (such as “form based” codes), as simple nostalgia. The result is parks completed with vestigial bandstands or purely decorative fountains as program, instead of amenities that can foster a true relationship between a space and its inhabitants.

At best, this ignorance is merely overridden as a population “rewrites” a new place to fit their purposes. At worst, it can lead to the impression that a place has been imposed rather than given, that it is without use and therefore without value. The end result is that many public arenas like public parks are seen primarily as spaces for peripheral activities – a place to take your children, have a picnic, etc. Contrast this with the deep social and business interaction that takes place at coffee shops and shopping malls every day, a set of activities that goes far beyond simple retail. These places have become the new second living space for most people, not because of some deep seated love for commerce but because they have changed to fit our lives and needs. To put it simply, if a space meets the (often unconscious) requirements of a home, one will use it as a home.

New forms of media are the lifeblood of today’s public society. The technology that runs and fuels this media is becoming increasingly mobile, which, instead of making place less important, has made it paramount. To trace the evolution of digital social networking is to see it become more and more local, to the point where the most recent forms of online social interaction are based almost solely on real-world activity – the constant updating of one’s “status.” The clear extrapolation of this is to a world in which technology and media is tied intimately with place, not as a separate other layer but as another aspect in constant interplay with physical attributes. There has been a great deal of research into how technology and physical space can interact, but I feel not enough attention has been given to how the physical world might be an active contributor – the “push back” of the real onto the mobile/ephemeral/perceived. In ten years of new mobile technology, what might home feel like? And how might public space become a second home?

One other important component of a solution is parametric design and construction. Parametrics in architecture has more often than not been used as a tool to explore form, but it is even more important in this instance to see is as a way to analyze and explore the possibilities of space in all its dimensions, physical and ephemeral. A parametric model allows for the potentials of a place to be combined the potentials of a technology, to explore new models of urban organization, and their potential impacts. What if electrical and communications infrastructure was a vital component of park design? Or if street furniture was reconfigured to promote the capture and projection of video? The most difficult aspect of this sort of design study will be to discover an effective and fecund synthesis, and avoid single-use or limited implementations. To use an analogy, I’m not looking to design skate parks, but rather agglomerations of stairs, benches and curbs that serve both as a place to propose to your future wife and also pull a sweet nosegrind.

These sorts of places will undoubtedly be (to a degree) ad-hoc, mutable, upgradeable, and dependent upon the creative input and direction of users, in order to have the proper affect. I hope that the study I’ve outlined above will lead to solutions for new forms of communal space that are somewhere between architecture and technology, infrastructure and shelter. This kind of approach is vital, as it not only allows for a ground-up, flexible and collaborative design strategy, but is exportable, sharable, and customizable to any of the urban situations described above. Every citizen is an expert of their own milieu – the difficult thing is to design the right tools to help them realize the potentials of their world.

The Next Year

The Beauty of Inefficiency

There’s been a lot of advance mourning for the book this year. Each article that touches on digital books is required to include a quote that declaims the loss of the physical, the feel, look, and smell of the bound object.

Many of my favorite things in life are the byproducts of inefficiency. After all, greatness is more often than not the result of a monumental effort – it’s not very fun to celebrate something that comes easy. The erector set intricacy of the Eiffel Tower, the ornate oak cases of old radios, cowboys, the apollo missions – things that require a colossal effort get more recognition. Eventually they’re all replaced by systems underlaid with massive engineering but relatively simple, reliable and easy on the surface – office towers, transistors, cattle cars, communications satellites. The new might outperform but it can’t precede. This is the center of Not Building Things Like They Used To. At the same time, the newest and most far reaching technologies – our current moonshots – are generally either so miniature or so esoteric that they are hard to appreciate. It’s easy to equate the Saturn V as a 20th Century Parthenon, but the CERN supercollidor and carbon nanotubes don’t capture the imagination quite as directly.

There’s a similar process at work in our daily lives. The wonderful inefficiency of a butcher and greengrocer versus a supermarket. Freeways supplanting the old route system. The disappearance of phone booths as a public icon. It’s impossible to predetermine nostalgic appreciation – facebook? iphones? – but I can’t help but feel that things are moving quickly enough now that there’s not enough time for a system to become ubiquitous enough to be missed. Nostalgia has been replaced by retro. Mind you, I’m not really complaining.

Where this all comes to a head with me is that I really, really like bookstores. I like second hand shops, independents, big box megabooklands, you name it. And even if you give the physical object some longevity, it’s pretty clear to me that within the next decade I won’t be getting the majority of my published reading material out of a physical store.

Mind you, I’m already an e-reading convert. I fully realize the advantages of a tagged, hypertextual library, and I’m looking forward to it. The real problem is that browsing or shopping for things in a virtual setting doesn’t hold a torch to walking around a room. Granted, it’s massively more efficient – no need to amass piles of paper and plastic and array them around a large space on shelves, statically organized and gathering dust. If you know what you need than there’s no contest. But it’s not really a secret that shopping as a pastime has not migrated to the internet. Nobody, not even the the most hardened futurist, is suggesting that, say, clothing stores are going away in the near future. This is a case where the inefficiencies are going to be preserved by popular decree. Granted, stores have consolidated, many have gotten bigger. But it has and probably will stay a physical thing.

My problem is that the things I love most are largely able to be digitized and sold easily on the internet. When they did this with music, I was fine with it. The great local stores are by and large surviving, and I always avoided Virgin Records like the plague it was. I never collected vinyl and browsing for CDs isn’t that fantastic of an experience. I can’t wait for the point where I don’t have to deal with physical objects to watch a movie – dear god that has been a long time coming (although I hope theatres stick around for a while).

However, books are an unfortunate hybrid. I want to have some inefficiency thrown in my face. I often go to a bookstore not knowing what I want to pick out, wanting to see other people, to hang out and maybe get a coffee. I feel that most people have the same opinion. This collective desire is probably strong enough that, even if every last book was only sold digitally, there will probably still be some semi-public marketplace for the purchasing and enjoyment of literature. And while I’m inevitably going to mourn the missing piles of paper, there might be something to this new idea.

Most thinking about digital shopping still has it happening at home. It should be increasingly obvious that this is a total farce. If you’re not tethered to the wall with your computer you’re as (or maybe more) likely to be using it on the street, at a cafe, or under a tree. People are now growing up in a world where the majority of their media is completely mobile. The end result of all of this is most likely going to a dramatic redefinition of public spaces, uses, and mores. And hopefully some of them will be good enough to be missed when they’re gone.

The Beauty of Inefficiency

Deceleration

Walking to work this week I realized that at some point the sight of people walking and using miniature mobile computers has ceased to be novel. This change to my understanding of normality passed without note, which suggests to me that we are not at the beginning of a technological revolution, but instead are in the advanced stage of an old and now comfortable relationship with gadgets, and that any new “revolution” in mobile computing, if any, is still in the future. The previous revolution happened so long ago that most people that use this technology can’t even remember it (if they were even alive).

Think about it. The truly groundbreaking achievements are (rightfully so) always the ones that get the most notice, which each subsequent refinement or improvement garnering a little less surprise. The first time I saw a home computer I was floored. It was a Commodore 64, and could kinda sorta do things like write a letter, provided you sprung for a disk drive and a printer. As these computers got faster and smaller I actually got less excited as the devices themselves get more amazing. This is due to the fact that the basic context remains the same, so each subsequent subrevolution – laptops, DVD drives, wi-fi – is a mere augmentation. Added to this is the fact that as a device becomes more ubiquitous – and thus more important to our culture – it garners less attention, or at the very least attention shifts to the periphery.

I remember the first mobile phone I ever saw – a gigantic car phone my dad brought home from work when I was in middle school. It was heavy and clumsy and yet reeked of the future. I remember fairly well the first handheld cellular phone a few years later. Bluetooth headsets were odd for a second or two but I quickly got used to people talking to themselves on the street. I can’t even remember what year I started seeing cameras and email on phones. And the fact that pretty much everybody I know has a multifunctional computer/phone/library/stereo/camera/communicator (what Neal Stephenson might call a jeejah) at their constant beck and call, for less, I’m sure, than the cost of that original carphone I saw in middle school– that somehow crept up on me.

This is currently happening with digital cameras. It is happening with internet applications. It is happening with wireless connectivity. It is happening with all media. Between ten and twenty years ago most of this stuff was brought into the market for the first time, with a lot of hooplah, even though at the time most of it was largely useless. And now that we’ve gone through the laborious process of refining and debugging and working out how to use all of these magical devices, all of this revolutionary stuff has become expected, before we’ve really even seen what it can do. It’s like that “Everything is Amazing and Nobody is Happy” video. We’ve been sold the future for two decades, and now that it’s here, we are unimpressed.

Deceleration

psychotopography

An article in this month’s New Yorker was engrossing and as I’ve been thinking about it for a few days I feel the need to post. The article, “Drinking Games”, which I only now realized is by Malcom Gladwell, recounts the experience of a Yale Anthropology student attempting to recount his social drinking escapades experienced during field research in Bolivia in the 1950’s. The Bolivians in question apparently binge drank enormous quantities of alcohol on a regular basis, without incidence of alcoholism or violence. The article goes on to extrapolate from related research that instead of loosing inhibitions, drinking rather concentrates the given social mores. As the social context of this heavy drinking was peaceful, never done alone, and had rigidly defined times and places, brawls and benders could be avoided.

What I can’t help but draw from this article is a corollary with our understanding of morality and public architecture. Space is, I would argue, an equally potent (if selective) concentrator of social mores and conventions. It can affect movement, concentration, attention, and understanding in both subtle and direct ways. As with drinking, the public discourse of this topic has been limited to oversimplified arguments over vice and virtue, arguments that have remained virtually unchanged since the Victorian era. Concentrating on the complex interplay between a social setting and it’s physical context, instead of a priori good or bad qualities, might lead to a better understanding of how to design for a continually changing society, without resorting to the safe or the bland.

psychotopography

Library Smashers

For my first post on my new site I thought it appropriate to repeat something Geoff Manaugh has already reported on, as this is the content of my writing about 90% of the time. He writes about a CCA project that explored an alternate future for the public library that explodes it into constituent parts and lodges those rooms in tiny spaces throughout the city. This “break and scatter” methodology not only embeds libraries more firmly in their urban contexts but allows for a mutable and adaptable collection of spaces that changes as our relationship to media does.

I am immediately drawn to this thesis not only for its inherent flexibility but also because it sees the library as physical space – a particular phenomonology – before it sees it as a repository of media. The different actions that might take place at a library – searching, parsing, learning, communicating – are all given a discrete physical representation that then interacts with an urban context.

The future of the library is most likely tied to its ability to concentrate, verify and direct attention. These abilities are dependent upon both face to face communication and a strong, almost overriding physical context. Even if you provide access to reliable, in-depth information from a home computer or cellphone, people will still desire and search out a separate context to interact with that information. The library is your new office. Your new agora. Your new sounding board.

BLDGBLOG: The Atomized Library.

Library Smashers

notes on digital reading

my lovely wife got me a kindle 2 for the holidays, and I thought that I might do what nearly every person who has purchased the thing has done and write about it on my blog (writing on the internet seems to be the primary hobby of kindle owners).
After a few days of using the thing, what really surprises me the most is how different it is from any other digital device. It’s really impossible to do any kind of real comparison between an e-reader and an iphone or laptop or netbook or OLPC. For one, the Kindle is (as of yet) pretty much useless as a web device, due to the constraints of the software, connection, processor, and screen (in that order). it’s not impossible that it might be usable to email or search with some OS improvements, but the lag in typing and the difficulty in browsing means that, at best, it is useful for reading a few mobile news sites and wikipedia (it actually works quite well as a wikibrowser.)
What is does do extremely well is show text on a screen. I’m going to go ahead and say right now that I prefer reading on the kindle to reading a paperback. I’ve never been a fan of portable books – I always struggle with hand cramps and sore necks. This object is the right size, weight, and look for reading. I actually went back to a book last night and was kind of annoyed. It’s also fun to operate, has a good feel and good “cover” images (although the ability to customize would be nice).
The end result of all of this is that this might be the first digital device I’ve met that will actually end up slowing and concentrating my life rather than speeding and scattering. It’s fun to use so I’ll probably spend more time as a result reading novels, long-form magazine articles. Multi-tabbed browsing, skipping to minute 3 of a youtube video, quickfire rss feeding – this all now seems a little less important, and a little less fun.
It’s interesting that by changing the priorities and limitations of a device, one’s life can be subtly changed.

notes on digital reading

scattermoonshot

I’m a bit late at this, but there’s been a lot of bemoaning lately (or is it just moaning?) about the 40th anniversary of the moon landing. From Wired to Tom Wolfe, there has been a lot of furious agreement with astronauts and rocket scientists, that we really dropped the ball these last…four… decades. We should all be living on Mars by now, like Ben Bova wants us to! Like any proper nerd, I occasionally consider what it might be like to bring someone from the past – say, Benjamin Franklin – and introduce them to modern society. It gives one the ability to be amazing without actually doing anything, by piggybacking on two hundred and fifty years of technical and social progress. One gets to be the salesman that reveals your… new… future!

However, if instead of a founding father it’s, oh, Arthur C. Clarke, circa 1968, things get a little bit iffy. Then one has to explain how a colossal, colossal increase in computing and communications ability has made only subtle changes to our social fabric. How is it that telegrams and rockets can be so destabilizing to the status quo, produce a few World Wars and a subsequent world order on the other side, while similar technologies that are unbelievable improvements on connecting and computing lead to people working harder and a few stock market bubbles? Oh, and twitter.

Hulu is a great example. Why is Hulu so amazing? It roughly replicates cable TV, with slightly more interactivity, on a device that could land the population of Canada on the moon in LEMs, simultaneously. This is not an amazing use of your computer. It’s like getting Pavarotti to sing the Oscar Meyer Weiner song. What is amazing about Hulu is the business side – getting networks to agree to put their content online, the social side – selling it to the public, and the design side – the interface and video algorithms. And none of that is colossal.

scattermoonshot