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22 June 2009

Learning from Ulaanbaatar

In May in Vienna, I presented at a symposium on architecture studies in China and Mongolia. Adelaide University’s Centre for Asian and Middle Eastern architecture held such a cross cultural symposium when I was an architecture research masters degree student there, but with my recent year of Mongolian architectural teaching development experience (see arch-peace previously), this year’s Vienna symposium provided an exciting opportunity to meet with central European, Mongolian and Chinese researchers, scholars and architects, in a truly cross cultural and cross-disciplinary meeting with anthropologists, ethnographers, conservationists and architectural historians. The conference was hosted by Vienna University of Technology’s ‘Comparative Architectural Research’ unit, together with Vienna University’s Confucius Institute, and with UNESCO backing. I have previously lived worked and taught in Vienna, and I thought that contributing a story about this conference presentation would make an interesting editorial on cross cultural architectural education for Architects for Peace.

I prepared a report on the architecture teacher training project I had pursued in the peri-urban fringe of Ulaanbaatar in 2007-8, and extended this by reflecting on the work with architecture students at Sheffield University and London Metropolitan University. Sheffield architecture school’s doctoral research group, Lines of Flight,had invited me previously, and I worked with a doctoral planning researcher there to develop the second part of the paper. Supreeya Wungpatcharapon, who is researching participatory processes in urban planning, provided another perspective on the processes developed with Mongolian students, and the resulting conference paper was one which seemed to effectively address the frontier of architectural education in central Asia.

Delegates had come from China, Germany and Austria, and there was a small group from Mongolia. The papers ranged from ethnographical studies of vernacular agricultural building types to analyses of conservation of ancient cities. There was also a very wide range of presenters, from postgraduate students and young professors from Tsinghua University in Beijing to experienced Orient specialists from Pennsylvania, Munich, Würzburg and Hannover.

The session to which I was allocated, ‘Settlement Policy and Cultural Identity in Modern Mongolia’ comprised a paper on the Ethnic Identity of a Mongolian minority group by a Mongolian scholar in Austria, an exhibition of excursion work carried out in Ulaanbaatar tent districts by Austrian students, and my reflections on working with Mongolian architecture students, developing site analysis and brief writing methods.

I briefly presented two live projects – ‘Sanzai Eco-houses’ and ‘Yarmag Children’s Camp’- through which newly trained architects and architecture students aimed to incorporate participatory processes in their design projects, consulting with clients, and exploring options for site analysis.

The first live project, in Sanzai, on the northern periphery of the capital, is a private developer’s proposal to build four houses in an outer suburb, and to market these using an (otherwise dubious and unusual) ecological standard of accommodation, which would be habitable and energy efficient year round, from –30C in winter to 30C in summer. The second live project - another local Mongolian entrepreneur’s proposal - is to develop a nature reserve by introducing a children’s park, hotel and conference centre, in the foothills at the city’s southern edge.

The presentation and the conference session explored possible lessons to be learned from the issues of peri-urban settlement in Mongolia and future work on architecture in development being undertaken in Mongolia and other parts of Asia. A forthcoming research project by Sarah M Bassett on the Ger (the tent Russians called ‘Yurt’) Districts, planned for 2009-10, was also introduced to the conference in the context of sustainability and continuity.














Figure 1 Staff Participation levels in 6 development projects in 2008 – (white = none, grey = moderate, black = full)

First meeting














Figure 2 Staff meeting by G. Cowan















Figure 3 Graduates by G. Cowan. Sanzai - Site Analysis















Figure 4 Sanzai Site Analysis by students photo G Cowan. Learning from Las Vegas















Figure 5 Learning from Las Vegas (Venturi et al 1969).

Combining the Mongolia project review with recent work undertaken with students at London Metropolitan University in the area of participatory design and research, Wungpatcharapon and I discussed some lessons we considered might be learned from Ulaanbaatar. Despite the very different environments and resources, the processes of understanding sites and developing design briefs are not altogether different to those in other places.

Formal study of vernacular architecture in the Mongolian college is minimal. ‘Ger’ and ‘Khiid’ (home and monastery) seem to be regarded as cultural artefacts - rather than science or business which would associate them with ‘architecture’. Most students and teachers at the Mongolian college themselves live in peri-urban informal settlements of Ulaanbaatar, and are intimately familiar with the vernacular architecture of the Ger (Tent) and the self-build cottage tradition. These traditions are not formally taught at the college and they are not used as models for teaching, apparently because they are not aspirational to architecture as a modern and international form of building. The modern rituals of going to the ‘Delguur’ and ‘Tsakh’ (Shop and Market) are not studied as architecture subjects. International cultures of architecture (and to a degree Russian songs, Latin dancing etc) are regarded as ‘models’ but the mode of teaching these is didactic rather than exploratory or discursive.

The style of teaching architecture, particularly in vocational training institutions, and from my experience of tertiary colleges and universities in Mongolia, has traditionally been very didactic, rather than discursive or participatory. Therefore, the idea of collaboration in design studio, of participative site analysis and brainstorming design ideas are all unfamiliar to the Mongolian students I worked with. The experiments – with what in other settings might be fairly conventional participatory architectural studio methods - remind us that these are a developmental aspect of architectural practice which help to overcome cultural and language barriers and enable a more rigorous needs assessment for the development of an architectural design brief.

In peri-urban Ulaanbaatar, the notion of rapid deployment does not seem to be raised in architecture, despite the available model presented by the Ger (tent), which is commonplace, and apparently of little interest to Mongolian architecture students. Permanent buildings seemed to be the aspiration of architectural development, and these often take a long time in construction, spanning the seasons, and necessitating suspension of the building site during the bitterly cold winter.
In reference to the childrens’ camp scheme for Yarmag, and also for the live project for Eco-Houses in Sanzai, the notion of sustainability was used as a mere buzz-word. The need for energy efficient construction was recognised, although the amortisation cost of investing in more expensive design and materials worked against it in the view of students who did not have an understanding of life-cycle costing of buildings.

Participatory practice in architecture is a well-established concept in western, late capitalist architecture, and essential to traditional Mongolian Ger (Tent) building and possibly in monasteries. However, it was not an idea familiar to contemporary Mongolian architecture students I met, who are accustomed to more didactic and expert-led models of creating architecture – effectively, as a foreign European practice. Professors with whom I worked, and who had themselves been schooled in the west, in the European soviet capital Moscow or East Germany for example – tended towards didactic teaching styles and modes of design generation – and instructed students to copy patterns provided by them or from textbooks such as the 1965 Russian edition of Neufert’s Bauentwurfslehre. There was no sense of engagement in the translation and adaptation of foreign architectural ideas in the MCTC college, although Bat-Od’s locally written and produced architecture text book (Arkhitektur, Ulaanbaatar, 2005, 2007) suggests some ways to do this.

In the two live projects in Sanzai and Yarmag, the Mongolian students took similar approaches to developing analyses and briefs, with the advantage of real clients, real budgets and real potential outcomes. What may have been lacking in ‘academic discourse’ was replaced with actual live project experience; visiting the project sites in the north and south peripheries of the city respectively, and undertaking (apparently for the first time) site analysis, compiling design briefs and generating multiple-option original schematics.

The participatory processes employed in the live design projects here cannot be considered as an advanced level of participative practice that allows the end-users of the projects to make decision towards final design proposals. These live projects, however, allowed the Mongolian architecture students to explore alternative ways of developing architectural schemes as well as creating an open learning system in the academic environment. By opening a more dialogical space of learning together amongst teachers, students and clients (the users), the experience may encourage the students to develop alternative architecture processes and schemes that are appropriate to the Mongolian context, rather than those inspired by foreign or western styles of architectural design.

Conclusion
During the development of the Mongolia teaching work since 2007, there have been many supporters and correspondents who have taken part in critique and encouragement of the work. Colleagues undertook work in many diverse disciplines. For example, my partner Clare Hill undertook work in the textile development sector in Ulaanbaatar and Erdenet, and many other VSO colleagues and local non-government organisations collaborated on various development initiatives. Of many local and international scholars and development workers with whom I discussed developing various initiatives, an art curator and an anthropologist I met in Ulaanbaatar are keen to collaborate on a book, and the previously mentioned Chicago architect-researcher Sarah M Bassett will conduct a project on ‘Transitional Architecture’ in 2009-2010, and invites contact, at sarahmbassett@gmail.com, in regard to ongoing architecture development work in peri-urban Ulaanbaatar.

The work ‘Nomadologist in Ulaanbaatar’ 2007-2008, of an ‘architect teacher trainer’ at a Construction College, was reported in a previous article for Architects for Peace. The conference paper showed what Supreeya Wungpatcharapon and I and students reflected upon as ways of ‘Learning from Ulaanbaatar’, not only in terms of observing the resource limitations and shortcomings relative to our preconceptions, but also the potential of using the studio to develop constructive and open design processes. By reflecting on the training and live projects, and subsequent discussions about the outcomes at architecture schools in the UK, some of the insights on processes and methods can be taken from working in the rapidly changing, resource-poor environment of peri-urban Ulaanbaatar.

Under Construction - New Architecture School















Figure 6 Photo G. Cowan May 2008.




Note 1
- Refer to Blog Entry - Site Analysis; initial discussion(http://nomadologist-nomadology.blogspot.com/2008/06/site-analysis-initial-discussion.html dated Sunday, June 29, 2008) photos http://www.flickr.com/groups/1025839@N24/

Note 2 - Refer to Blog Entry - Essential Design Skills(http://nomadologist-nomadology.blogspot.com/2008/06/essential-skills.html dated Wednesday, June 25, 2008)

General Photo Pool:
- http://www.flickr.com/photos/nomadologist/2543151893/in/set-72157602065424017
- higher resolution images available on request from mailto: gregory@cowan.com


References:
- More about the symposium “Along the Great Wall”: http://baugeschichte.tuwien.ac.at/abk/symposium-china-mongolei/index_dt_mauersymp.html
- Participatory Techniques: http://www.flickr.com/groups/1025839@N24/
- Nomadologist blog - http://nomadologist-nomadology.blogspot.com/
- Sheffield University - Lines of Flight - PhD researchers group http://linesofflight.wordpress.com/
- London Met MA Architecture of Rapid Change Scarce Resources http://www.londonmet.ac.uk/pgprospectus/courses/architecture-of-scarce-resources.cfm
- Nomad Research http://www.innerasiaresearch.org/caroline_humphrey.htm
- Sarah Bassett http://www.elkrapidsnews.com/elk-rapids-news-features.php#ER
- Homepage - http://gregorycowan.blogspot.com/ (comments welcome)


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17 May 2009

Cultural Identity Manifested in Visual Voices and the Public Face of Architecture

While scholars in architecture as an academic and professional discipline may criticize the interest and tendency to place emphasis on discussing building images and facades, I adopt the principle that since architecture is created for the public then examining the public face of architecture is integral to the understanding of the juxtaposition of those images and what they convey and represent. This editorial interrogates a number of discourses on ways in which cultural identity is manifested by debating selected interventions developed within the Arab world. Still, the discussion on whether building images are created as visual voices that attempt to react to the tidal wave of cultural globalization is open-ended. So, there is no claim here that there is a resolution, but an articulation of identity debate as it is manifested in the public face of architecture.

Preamble
Arab architects are in a continuous process of criticizing their own versions of modern and post modern architecture and the prevailing contemporary practices. Within their criticism, discourses always suggest the recycling of traditional architecture and its elements as a way of establishing and imposing a distinguished character in the contemporary city. Typically, this takes the form of either refurbishing old palaces and public buildings, or establishing visual references—borrowed from the past—and utilized in contemporary/modern buildings. Adopted by governments and officials, there are a considerable number of examples of projects that advocated traditional imaging to impress the society by their origin while boasting the profile of capital and major cities, especially in Egypt and the Arabian Gulf Region. In generic terms, similar to the worldwide tendency, societies in the Arab world tend to re-evaluate the meaning and desirability of building images rapidly. The search for an architectural identity, the rise and fall of ISMS (movements and tendencies), and the continuous debate on symbolism and character issues in architecture are derived from this fact (1,2).

Identity Discourse
In the Arab region, issues that pertain to identity, character, and architectural trends have been in debate for over three decades, more so because of this region’s cultural uniqueness and plurality. However, it is this cultural uniqueness that has made it a tough pursuit and has – in many cases—culminated in a type of symbolism that is painful to behold or comprehend. Some scholars pose the question of the necessity to refer to cultural or religious symbolism in architecture to reflect a specific identity. Others argue for the fact that Arab architecture should embody the collective aspirations of societies in this region. As well, there are many who have questioned the need to debate architectural identity at all, claiming that it merely displays a lack of “self-confidence” as a region or as a group of nations. Reviewing recent practices and debates reveals that we still seem to be at odds with the issue of identity. Images and image making processes do not often address the issue of meaning in relation to the public. This mandates looking at the built environment as a two-way mirror. One way can be seen in the sense that it conveys and transmits non-verbal messages that reflect inner life, activities, and social conceptions of those who live and use the environment. The other way is seen in terms of how it is actually perceived and comprehended by a certain society at a certain time.

Entrances, Concrete Whimsies, and the Conundrum of Context / Content
Can Buildings speak? I argue, yes, they convey silent, non verbal messages, they tell us about themselves almost as if they are speaking. They tell us about what is happening and what ought to happen in them. They may symbolically represent an attitude about what is taking place inside. Building entrances are no exception; they have certain qualities that can evoke a strong image in an observer; they can be inviting or repelling, they really talk but using a different type of language and a different type of grammar. Entrances have the capacity to unleash feelings, trigger emotional reactions, feed the memory, and stimulate the imagination of the public. Thus, the image of the entrance allows the public to anticipate the interior world. In a country like Egypt, there has been a surge in the construction of tourist facilities along the Northern Coast, the Red Sea, and Sinai Peninsula. These facilities are shaping the skyline and waterfront of these areas and examining the characteristics of their entrances is thus paramount.

While the aesthetic qualities of entrances are to be respected, for a complete appreciation one must go beyond the visual appearance and examine meaning and content. The inherent meaning of entrances can stand for the representation of place and/or the representation of the people occupying it. However, entrances of tourist villages have more than that to offer. They have physical variables that carry symbolic meanings that can impart information and enhance legibility in a sense that is not confusing, easy to read, and allows visitors to know their whereabouts (2).

In the entrances examined one can find multiple yet puzzling visual voices within the efforts of their designers to metaphorically reflect certain images or symbols. Some of them simulate the Egyptian culture by reinterpreting the elements of heritage architecture, Pharonic, Arabic, and Islamic, in order to attract tourists. Others simulate classical architecture or introduce images that pertain to the surrounding natural environment. Here, I argue that the designers of these entrances try to use metaphors, identifying relationships between the present and the past, or between the natural and the man-made worlds. These relationships are abstract in nature rather than literal. However, this does not mean they have been successful in addressing the issue of meaning, but they are just offering attempts toward introducing specific visual content for the purpose of tourism.


Traditionalist Approaches
Attempts to translate cultural identity into building images are evident in selected examples in Qatar and Kuwait, where a conservative approach toward the use of traditional imaging is employed. Suq Sharq-Kuwait, as an example of this approach, is a mixed-use development extending 2.4 km along the waterfront, and comprises an entertainment complex, restaurants, a retail complex, speciality arcades, and a new marina (4). An earlier example to establish a local architectural identity against modernism and post modernism was Qatar University campus designed by the late, Paris based Egyptian architect-Ahmed El Kafrawi. The campus is located on an elevated site 7 km north of Doha and 2 km from the Gulf shore. Based on an octagonal unit design idea wind-tower structures are designed to provide cool air and reduce humidity. Towers of light are also introduced and are intended to control the harsh sunlight, and abundant use of mashrabiyas (traditional screened windows) and stained glass. Open and partially covered courtyards, planted and often with fountains, are plentiful throughout the site. The architect placed strong emphasis on natural ventilation, one of the many links in which he relates to traditional architecture of the region. As specific models he used the few still existing wind-tower houses in Doha and modernized the basic principle (5).


Responsive Re-Interpretation of Traditional Images
As the discourse continues on the dialectic relationships between tradition and modernity, the contemporary and the historic, and the high-tech and the environmentally friendly, here I select two important buildings—from the Qatar Education City—that represent physical and intellectual statements: the Liberal Arts and Science Complex designed by Arata Isozaki and the Texas A & M University Engineering College designed by Ricardo Legoretta.

Arata Isozaki is well known for his innovative interventions over the past 30 years and for his deep interpretation of the contexts in which his designs are developed. He designed the Liberal Arts and Sciences building (LAS) which is a focal point for all students in the Education City. Occupying an area of approximately 22000 m2 and developed over a period of 21 months the building is introduced to accommodate the Academic Bridge Program; a preparatory program for enhancing the academic background and experience of high school graduates from Qatar and other countries in the Gulf region. The ABP addresses the universal problem of student academic and cultural transition from high school to the university, but has been designed to specifically address the needs of students in the Gulf region. As a visually striking and architecturally stunning intervention, the building is designed around a theme developed from traditional Arabic mosaics that are evocative of the crystalline structure of sand. This was based on intensive studies to abstract the essential characteristics of the context while introducing new interpretations of geometric patterns derived from widely applied traditional motives (6).


The second statement is by the AIA Gold Medal award winning Ricardo Legoretta who continues in his design of the Engineering College of Texas A & M University to root his work in the application of regional Mexican architecture to a wider global context. Typically, his work is recognizable for its bright colors and the sustained attempts to amalgamate local traditions and contemporary needs. Legorreta uses elements of Mexican regional architecture in his work including bright colors, plays of light and shadow, central patios, courtyards and porticos as well as solid volumes. Over a construction period of 19 months and on an area of 53000 m2 the College was opened in 2007 with a total capacity of 600 users including students, faculty members, and teaching staff. The concept is based on introducing two independent but adjoining masses linked by large atrium; these are named the Academic Quadrangle and the Research Building. The overall expression of the building demonstrates masterful integration of solid geometry and a skillful use of color and tone values.


While these two buildings represent conscious endeavors of two prominent architects toward creating responsive educational environments that meet the aspirations of the founders of the education city and their society, it remains to be seen how the new buildings that are being designed by the two architects in the same campus will fit in harmony—visually, spatially, and functionally—with those already discussed and with the overall master plan of the education city. As well, it remains to be seen how the designs of other world and local architects would contribute to the continuing discourse on global architecture versus the emerging attempts of a culture of resistance (6).

Glocalism Demystified
Another important approach in attempting to reflect cultural identity is in the Center for Environment and Development for Arab Region and Europe, CEDARE, Heliopolis, Cairo. It was established as a non profit institution in 1992, and funded mainly by Arab and European governments. It aims at building the capacity of governments to foster management of environmental resources, and to envision sustainable development policies and strategies.

When looking at the new Headquarters of CEDARE, one can see the practice Glocalism in the sense that it embodies the concepts of global and local and by logic, incorporates a time element, which the two concepts tend to ignore. The design resists immersion in global trends while simultaneously refusing the license to copy and paste from the past. This is clearly reflected in the building image where the façade conveys a message encompassing the positive co-existence of the Arab Region and Europe. This concept is carefully translated as a metaphor into all facades of the building. Two layers of culture exist, the first is the layer of brick that reflects the Arabic culture, and the second is the glass curtain wall that acts as a shell which engulfs the first layer expressing the modern technology of Europe. Notably, the selection of materials defines the possible pattern of relationship between the intended concept and the final building image. The tapestry of interlocking traditional brick layering with glazed blue steel cylinders and the glass curtain wall represents the intersection between traditional/local and modern/global values.

According to CEDARE designers, Ahmed Fahim and Hisham Bahgat, we—Egyptians generally and Caierene particularly—possess multi-architectural heritage that ranges from Pharonic, Coptic-Christian, and Islamic, to the post colonial, socialist, and modern.”(7). Thus, a critical question can be posed here: How to introduce a relatively new functional office environment in the area of Heliopolis that possesses a historic residential urban environment? Would the answer be borrowing and copying from these multi-layers of Heliopolis or Cairo Heritage? Or imitating European architectural trends? Their response to these questions was articulated where the merge of the underlying values of cultures are manifested. This goes along the statement of Charles Correa—which I recall from his speech at the American University of Beirut in 1999 – who warned the architects of the developing world “Do NOT COPY YOUR PAST and DO NOT COPY THE PRESENT OF OTHERS (8).


A Concluding Verbal Voice
Contemporary architecture in the Arab world seems to be a collection of architectural positions that attempt to reflect cultural identity. There are positions that correspond to the history and economy of different localities within the region while many are confused on how to manifest identity in building images. Although there are some honest attempts to tame the urban development process, the overall built environment within this region is increasingly mismanaged. There is hope, found in a few designs, that a solid architectural direction can be created. But I must say that in addition to attempting to establish an identity based on the unique peculiarities of the region in terms of traditional images, it is critical that cultural identity should also emerge and evolve from environmental and socio-economic concerns.


References:

1) Salama, A. M. (2005). Architectural Identity in the Middle East: Hidden Assumptions and Philosophical Perspectives. In D. Mazzoleni et al (eds.), Shores of the Mediterranean: Architecture as a Language of Peace. Intra Moenia, Napoli, Italy. PP. 77-85. ISBN# 88-7421-054X

2) Salama, A. M. (2007). Mediterranean Visual Messages: The Conundrum of Identity, ISMS, and Meaning in Contemporary Egyptian Architecture. Archnet-IJAR- International Journal of Architectural Research, Volume 1, Issue 1, Archnet @ MIT School of Architecture and Planning, Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States, PP. 86-104. ISSN # 1994-6961

3) Salama, A. M. (2006). Symbolism and Identity in the Eyes of Arabia’s Budding Professionals. Layer Magazine, LAYERMAG, New York, United States.
Archnet

4) Al Sharq Waterfront
http://www.archnet.org/library/sites/one-site.jsp?site_id=4125

5) Salama, A. M. (2009). Design Intentions and Users Responses: Assessing Outdoor Spaces of Qatar University Campus. Open House International, Volume 34, Issue 1, Urban International Press, United Kingdom, PP. 82-93. ISSN # 0160-2601

6) Salama, A. M. (2008). Doha: Between Making an Instant City and Skirmishing Globalization. Special Edition of Viewpoints, Middle East Institute, American University, Washington, DC. United States, PP. 40-44.

7) Salama, A. M. (2001). CEDARE Headquarters: Glocalism and the Architecture of Resistance (English and Arabic). Medina Magazine, Issue 17, Medina Publishing, British Virgin Islands, PP. 32-37.

8) Correa, Charles. Lecture. 2004. In Architecture Re-introduced: New Projects in Societies in Change. Jamal Abed (ed). Geneva: The Aga Khan Award for Architecture, based on a regional seminar at the American University of Beirut.


More in-depth discussion about cultural identity and the built environment are outlined in the following publications:

Abel, C. (1997- 2000). Architecture and Identity, Architectural Press, Boston, Mass, USA.

Antoniou, J. (2000). Tradition and Technology, Architectural Review, Middle East, Issue 4, pp. 23-44.

Baker, P. (2004). Architecture and Polyphony: Building in the Islamic World Today, Thames & Hudson, London, United Kingdom.

Frampton, K. (1983). Prospects for a Critical Regionalism, Perspecta, Issue 20, pp. 148-162

Tzonis, A. & Lefaivre, L. (2003): Critical Regionalism: Architecture and Identity in a Globalized World, Prestel, New York, USA.


Ashraf M. Salama
Architects for Peace, May 2009

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23 April 2009

Convoluted thoughts on the Global Crises, Scientists, Politicians... and

"Presumably you've never been in business. You're a scientist, you can't tell me about the economics of it (the effects of greenhouse emissions cut)." Senator Ron Boswell (Australian Financial Review, 16 April 2009, p.5)

Who would have thought - the global economic gloom only months after the euphoria of the Beijing Olympics and Barack Obama's election? News from the environmental front isn't any better and Victoria's Black Saturday provided a stark and immediate reminder of our vulnerability. Is there hope?

In the midst of the double global economic and environmental crises, 'valuing the environment right' has been touted as the tool that can, albeit imperfectly, best address both issues concurrently. This involves extending, global society willing, economic practices to mitigate Climate Change through emissions trading and giving value to other environmental 'products' such as the water, air, soil, forests and the flora and fauna that inhabit them, which could result in a more 'Genuine GDP'.


While the benefits sound very attractive, we need to tread very carefully in taking this route when our knowledge of ecological processes and functions, while significantly advanced, is still imperfect. This leaves the likely scenario that the market will be the most influential in 'costing' the environment, which merely continues the profit-oriented hegemony where big businesses collude with Governments to manipulate and narrow societal supply/demand for 'environmental products'. Examples that come immediately to mind are hi-tech, mega-project quick fixes such as nuclear power and/or carbon sequestration plants to address 'demand' for emissions-lite energy, and desalination plants to assuage for the increasing water scarcity. Moreover, our politicians are straitjacketed by the ‘short-termism’ curse, framed by the election cycles that encourage those 'quick-fixes'. Thus, large-scale infrastructure projects that clearly have detrimental impact on the surrounding environment are preferred over finer-scaled, more complex and messier solutions that engage with and respond to the locality (such as VEIL's alternative framework of 'Distributive Systems').

Based on these tendencies it is quite likely, even when environmental products are priced, that the market will still 'assign' higher economic value to mining the minerals than the pristine forest cover above it, which has traditionally been 'valueless'. It is also highly likely that the market will continue to favour urban sprawl into productive and ecologically sensitive landscapes as it will continue to contribute to 'growing' the GDP far more than food production which can always be industrially-produced/GMOed and/or imported more cheaply (even with emissions factored in). The huge irony is that this process of urban sprawl, accelerated over the past decade through ingenious 'financial engineering', has led to the subprime mortgages that precipitated into the current Global Financial Crisis (GFC). It is doubly ironic that this global recession has resulted in less consumption hence decreased economic activities down the line, which translates into lower GHG emissions from all economic sectors!

The dilemmas don't end there. While the environment seems to be temporarily 'benefiting', albeit in the form of slower exploitation, the GFC also result in lower societal uptake of green practices and technologies that often come with higher price tags (at least initially) and also diminished funding for R&D into the technologies. To top things off, we get conflicting messages from economists and Governments on how to get out off the "worse recession since the Great Depression". Essentially, they say, yes, we've been living way beyond our means and that this got us into this mess, but we need to consume more to get out of it! And not to worry if you don't have job security, here are 'tax bonuses' to lubricate the engine of the micro-economy, while awaiting big infrastructure projects (the aforementioned 'quick-fixes') to kick start the macro-economy.

These are indeed baffling times that, for once, have both the intelligentsia and the person on the street scratching their heads on what to expect next. For many hopeful commentators, these extreme uncertain times provide the 'once-in-a-lifetime' opportunity to "reset the compass" (to borrow from the title of Yencken and Wilkinson's prophetic book published a decade ago) at multiple scales. But to whom will we entrust this unenviable job? 'Everyone' is the obvious, but unfortunately too idealistic, answer - as, without a clear set of rules and directions, self interests inevitably kick in by default (as AIG executives sadly demonstrated). Just on the issue of Climate Change alone, as the opening quotation implies, scientists and politicians (advocating for the business world), have been at loggerheads for much of the past decades - in effect, neutralising each other out to the point that there's an emerging consensus that it's already too late to avoid Climate Change. The best 'we' can do now (and 'we' are still not doing much) is mitigating for its worse effects. While not enough has been done to tackle Climate Change (which is only one dimension of ecological issues), it is likely that not enough will be done to regulate the market off its proven excesses (being let off lightly, it will likely re-offend).

I seem to have drawn readers (and myself) deep into the dreariest labyrinths seemingly without any way out of this collective fate. But one has to have faith in human resourcefulness and hope (at least we have Barack Obama, the great entrepreneur of 'hope' [thankfully not Bush/Cheney!] hard at work, plugging holes on the battered Spaceship Earth). And here I look inward and ask: what about us designers? Do we - should we - have any role in this? Do we want to? Arguably we are best equipped to engage with the complexities, bridge differing, often competing multi-scalar variables to synthesise into formal and spatial processes and solutions, hinging and envisioning the issues in real space for real people. No I am not advocating for the Super-Hero designer of yesteryear (admittedly He meant well) nor contemporary Starchitects (purveyors of the spectacular, but on the whole, in the service of the [once] Masters of the Universe - the story of the 'previous era'?) nor the slick imagery conveyed by Hollywood disaster movies (often effective fictionalisation of environmental issues) - these are the 'new designers' who actually listen, empathise and engage with the highly diverse contexts and scales they are working in, establishing meaningful relationships and collaborations with people they are working with and for. Many have already been at work in various groupings such as Architects for Peace, Architects without Borders, VEIL, Urban Village etc...etc... In the times of plenty, they were working in the fringes of practice. In today's hard times, their work potentially provides possible blueprints and precedents that map out alternative pathways for practice (that at least bridge the concerns of 'scientists' and 'politicians'). Sounds like I'm patting like-minded colleagues on the back? I believe not. Design's raison d'etre can no longer be merely rooted in artistic, cosmic and/or commercial ideals. Design has to return to its basest instinct and relearn, to quote Kongjian Yu, "the art of survival"...

Sidh Sintusingha
Architects for Peace, April 2009


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21 March 2009

Shifting Focus: perceptions of place in a climate of change

Notwithstanding the occasional mockery from the far left field of the scientific community, we no longer have to endure questions over the reality of human-driven changes to the global climate. The scientific proof is irrefutable and debate among the natural scientists primarily concerns the temporal and physical scale of the impending environmental impacts. What are less certain, however, are the social changes that will occur in response to these impacts. The relationship between global warming and social change is an issue raised by the sociologist Elizabeth Shove from Lancaster University . The question is how and to what extent our habits, or our ritualised and generally unquestioned actions, can be challenged. For Elizabeth Shove these habits are described as a product of our physical environment, and thus the limits imposed by our built infrastructure in turn limit the potential to alter certain habitual practices. One obvious example is the problem that the proliferation of suburban sprawl presents to the habitual practice of private motorised transport.

Of course our physical environment is similarly a product of our cultural habits and collective ideals and thus the potential for altered habits exists not only by reimagining practices within these physical boundaries, but by reimagining the boundaries themselves, and it is here that the architectural imagination takes flight.

As Beatriz Maturana argued in last month’s editorial, the devastating circumstances of the recent bushfires in Victoria present one such ‘sombre opportunity’ to reimagine the morphology of communities on the suburban fringe. The quarter acre block with detached dwelling, double garage and hills hoist represents the quintessential ‘Australian dream’. However, this is a product of the 1950s and more recently it might be argued that the bush block, replete with facilities for a more autonomous existence, is equally if not more desirable. The perpetuation of scattered dwellings amongst a relatively visually untrammelled bush must now be called into question as a consequence of the recent bushfires. There are other, potentially more sustainable international models that we can look to as Beatriz describes in her editorial. These may well support more sustainable habits such as concentrated collective rather than individualised efforts to protect property and lives should a similar bushfire threat present itself. The question is, however, whether current habitualised practices and cultural expectations will permit the reimagination of the urban fringe along radically different lines.

In my own research, I have been looking at the possibility of reimagining the design of infrastructure in natural settings in a very different context. I have been exploring the relationship between architecture and perceptions of place in ecotourism destinations. In particular I aim to challenge the prevalent ‘minimal impact’ approach to building in pristine nature settings. This is driven by the dominant perception of sustainability where nature is viewed as a privileged ‘other’ untouched by humans, or at least by industrialised society. Regenerative design offers an alternative perspective by shifting the frame of reference from minimal to positive impact and questioning the separation of ‘humans’ and ‘nature’. I have written about regenerative design in a previous editorial; however here I would like to briefly discuss a recent research project that explored this issue in relation to the design and construction of built infrastructure on the Overland Track in Tasmania.

The Overland Track is Tasmania’s most iconic and popular walking track, attracting approximately 8,800 walkers annually. The length and popularity of the walk has seen the construction of a large quantity of infrastructure to support the tourist experience and to limit damage to the natural environment. Most significant built interventions are established at five key overnight nodes where huts, tent platforms and toilet facilities are provided for visitors. In addition, all waste, including toilet waste, is flown out by helicopter. Other forms of infrastructure along the Overland Track include various forms of track construction such as timber and stone steps, walkways in local and imported timber, treated pine boardwalks, hardened track junctions, raised earth causeways and a variety of bridges from simple bush timber logs to steel suspension bridges. Limited signage and track markers are also located along the route. Much of the track infrastructure has been implemented in a haphazard fashion and is deemed ‘unsympathetic’ to the environmental context.

The research investigated visitors and rangers’ perceptions of these built interventions by inviting a small sample group to document their perceptions using a disposable camera and journal. They were advised that built interventions could include examples of any type or scale that they liked or disliked or that they thought promoted either a connection or a disconnection with the environment.

The track represents perhaps the most direct relationship with built infrastructure on the walk, engaging the visual as well as acoustic and tactile senses. The varied and uneven surfaces draw the focus of attention from the ‘world out there’ to a more immediate and extremely localised frame of reference. This intimate ‘scale’ of experience provoked a range of comments from participants, from recognising the love, care and ‘artistic’ personality that has been put into the design and construction of the track, to an awareness of water flows, weather patterns, the impact of human occupation, the power and omnipotence of nature and the relationship between body and space. Primarily these experiences were positive, promoting a stronger connection with the environment. However, there were also instances of disconnection, for example the connotation of highways through the use of bitumen-coated planks and the raised boardwalks that construct a direct physical separation from the landscape. These features prompted a mixed response from walkers, representing a conflict between a desire for safety and convenience versus a desire for adventure, as well as a desire for minimum intervention and a simultaneous recognition of the need for intervention to maintain the bushwalkers code of minimal impact.

A similar ambivalence featured in discussions surrounding the toilets, which are one of the more iconic and recognisable built features on the track. These are raised composting toilet structures, similar to those found in many National Parks in Australia. As a low-tech and familiar sustainable technology, these are seen as being appropriate in remote environments. However, the plastic ‘sputnik’ containers, which are used to remove the liquid waste by helicopter, are more confronting, presenting a tangible image of the otherwise generally invisible consequences of human occupation in this sensitive environment (figure 1).

Nevertheless, one of the key findings of the research was that it was the more assertive human interventions, such as the ‘sputniks’ and the track ‘highways’, that prompted the most reflexive engagement with place. These images do not necessarily provoke a negative response, but reveal complexities and ambiguities over the extent to which intervention is seen as necessary and desirable and the value of social versus environmental priorities. Furthermore, ‘alien technologies’ such as the ranger’s ‘escape pod’ have the potential to reinforce the notion of the ‘wilderness experience’ by drawing attention to the reality of the remoteness and reinforcing images of isolation and unfamiliar worlds ‘out there’ (figure 2).

This research reveals the power of the built environment in the construction of meaning of place and identity. I believe it supports the development of an architectural response to the design of infrastructure in wilderness locations that is more assertive and moves beyond the notion of minimal impact. More broadly, I think the research demonstrates how the design of built infrastructure that does not necessarily ‘fit’ with preconceived notions of place facilitates a more reflexive dialogue and opens up the possibility for imagining other cultural habits. While the research context is a long way both physically and conceptually, from the circumstances of the Victorian communities affected by the recent bushfires, it is here that I think certain tentative relationships can be drawn. The image of timber-sheathed dwellings nestling amongst the gum trees in relative visual isolation is a powerful one and one that will not easily be transformed. However, ultimately I hope that the kind of macro-scale changes that Beatriz outlined in last month’s editorial will be seen as a positive, regenerative response to place rather than as a compromise to existing, unsustainable cultural habits.

Ceridwen Owen
Architects for Peace, March 2009

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