How do ideas
begin? How does meaning become embodied in form and function? How
does form shape meaning? Hebert Read asked the question in his book,
The Origin of Form in Art. One ponders such things with a
serious commitment, so it comes somewhat as a shock to hear an
architect talk about the beginnings of his thinking on a house as
being the letter ‘K,’ the initial of the surname of the client,
when there must have been many alternative options open to him.#
Howard Raggatt,
the ‘R’ of ARM Architecture - was this acronym the inspiration? -
in ABCTV Dream Build on 19 March 2019 at
5:55pm, without any hint of embarrassment or flippancy, told how,
after his initial idea, he searched for "the right ‘K’ to
use for the house." As a variety of typefaces flicked across
the screen by way of example, he noted how he eventually settled on a
‘K’ that looked like the bold letter in the Kmart logo: was it
really?
R spoke of how he
made a model of the chosen letter form, apparently guessing at its
appropriate depth: why did he choose any particular profile for the
cross section? It was then that he wondered how he might make this
special ‘K’ into a house. Surely not? Has meaning no better
roots? Oh! Yes! - it is said to have happened just like this. A quick check, and the
chosen ‘K,’ with its distinctive spiky, italic shape and
characteristic nick in the lower leg to locate the ‘mart’, was
confirmed as the big, red ‘K’ portion of the logo of the Kmart
discount store – well, a store with ‘everyday low prices.’ It
turned out that the colour was to become as important as the letter
form, perhaps to maintain the integrity of the insight: ironically
the catchphrase appeared to be ignored.
R continued
explaining his approach, still wondering aloud in his description of
events about what to do with the ‘K.’ The answer was to split it
into two pieces, horizontally across its waist, rotate the parts, and place them against each other -
bingo: the house form. How else might one choose a shape? It appears as though the bottom portion of the letter has been turned on its side and placed beside the top section: the lower notch seems to have been conveniently forgotten, as well as the rear alignment.
But there was
more: it soon became clear that the site and functions needed a lower
floor space. What else might one use as a guide for this additional
massing but the shadow of the castrated, now conjoined ‘K’? The
model was shown on the screen under strong lights to emphasize the
dark, inspirational shading. So, there is was, meaning in
architecture, well maybe ‘forming,’ in one simple step. R noted
how easy it was to plan the massing in more detail, as if it was
meant to be, achieving the fine, sharp edges that he seemingly found
so satisfactory. What does one do on the inside of what looks like a
thirty degree wedge when a finger is unlikely to be able to touch the
intersection?
The ‘K’
became the theme for everything: the stairs; the door openings; the
bookshelves; the spiky, trampoline balustrades; and the bright red
interiors. It reminded one of the jingle in the old advertisement:
“When you’re on a good thing - stick to it.” One wondered if
the ‘K’ of the bookshelf might have been reversed to muddle the
easy ‘Kmart’ reading, as here the logo image was complete. Who
would want to live with this familiar image every day? Logos are
designed for easy recognition.
R noted that he
had imagined a completely red exterior, no doubt being inspired by the
Kmart colour and wanting to be true to his vision, but the
local authority would not allow this: so the exterior became grey with a few bits of orange.
Was this a protest in undercoat colour? One can get a feeling for the
impact of the original idea, what it might have been, from the
interior, the kitchen, where every surface is a bold, bright and
glossy Kmart red. Is this the ‘blood and guts’ of the house: a
grey, outer skin with a rich, throbbing, living interior? One wonders
how the steak might look in this kitchen; how tasty the lettuce might
appear? Could the beetroot get lost? How delightful might the onion
be; an apple; a banana? Hospitals, surgeons, even ambulance officers,
are sensitive to such readings of hue in context, preferring soft
blue greens to other dramatic, traumatic colourings: it does matter.
What has one to
look forward to, ‘A’ to ‘Z’ houses; in Arial, Roman; bold,
italic, etc. in all primary colours? Possibly: why not? The only
hindrance seems to be that the appropriate bespoke ‘interest’
might not be able to be readily achieved to fit any function, even
loosely. Here function has to follow form.
The question
lingers: why persevere with ‘K’? Were the ramifications
considered or just the appearance? Does R not know of the traumas,
the frustrations, of Kafka's K. in The Trial? What might this
association mean? Is the house an objection; an outcry? Then there is
Kellogg’s ‘Special
K;’ is this more
‘special’ than R’s choice? One might consider the possibilities
of a ‘Special K’ house, perhaps built on a lean budget, just to
maintain the theme, all in a nutritious colour - ‘full of essential
nutrients to help support your overall wellbeing.’ Random forming
using diverse references for different, bespoke outcomes can become
embedded with unwanted associations: some jokey; others bland; some
troublesome, unwanted; irritating.
It is interesting
to note that ARM is the same architectural firm that designed the
National Museum of Australia where text has also been used, but as
decorative braille: see -
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2011/01/on-australias-national-museum.html
Is this strategy a continuation of a standard, random ARM method of
generating ‘different’ ideas - ARMatures? One wonders if ARM is
entranced with letters as formal games. R notes that the firm has
previously explored letters – see below. The irony of the braille
is that it can never be touched to be interpreted, maybe a little like the reading of the deconstructed ‘K.’
ARM Architecture
The firm also did
the scheme for the Gold Coast Arts Centre where, yet again, it used
references to develop forms. Here the Gold Coast fun parks became the
inspiration: see -
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/12/gold-coast-guggenheim-gangnam-wow.html
Is this all there really is to architecture: grasp something and
transition it into forms and a story, the quirkier the better? Surely
architecture is more than this game of grab, split, mix and match,
and make a yarn both in words and by weaving the pieces together as a
repeated theme – a meme? Kafka’s K. might have hoped for more; and
so might many others.
The project is
promoted as the ‘K House’ by ARM. It appears as though the firm
dare not speak its name: the ‘Kmart House,’ in spite of its
beginnings, its roots; its origins; its very being: see ‘K is for
...’ below, where the title is cleverly left unresolved, avoiding
the ‘Kmart’ identity, while leaving the answer up to the reader
to decide, like most modern art does. It seems that the form of the
‘K’ is desirable, but not its ‘ordinary, everyday’
association. While the ‘K’ and its colour are clear, the Kmart
House itself did not look like the brand – cheap, everyday and
accessible. Such work shows how clever architects are; how smart, how
‘K-smart’ they can be; how intellectually esoteric. Strangely,
ARM is not emphasizing the brand side of the story – why not? The
Kmart logo only gets a minimal mention, almost as an aside (see
below); but the logo is very recognizable: is it copyright? Might
the client work for Kmart? Is it their favourite shop?
Maybe, instead
of appearing to be something of a ‘smartypants’ with a split and
inverted model of the red Kmart ‘K’ approach to their work,
architects might be better addressing the challenge of architecture
for the everyday, designing and building homes that are modestly
meaningful and affordable, rather than spiky and unique, designed for
good, declarative display, and detailed with repetitive, slick
‘K’-type themes: see -
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/02/on-ordinary-beauty-bursting.html
and
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/03/architectures-two-remote-islands-too.html
What could be
next: the Target house, a Woolworths house, or a Big W house? Maybe all in a Walmart housing cluster?
Architects might impress some folk and some colleagues with their
chosen games, but the towns, cities and suburbs will still get shaped
by others not interested in letter forms or clever architectural
strategies. Now that the idea has been explained, exposed, one can
search out new options and discover lots of lettered houses. There is
another ‘K's house’ in Tokyo, a backpackers centre that does not
appear very flash, not that this is good or bad; just that it is such
a contrast to the R design. There is a ‘Y’ house; a ‘U’
house; an ‘E’ house; a 'D’ house; an ‘H’ house and
more. One can go through the alphabet and Google, and see them all.
There are many places with letters, but not all places deconstruct or
use the letter form.
The mind wanders:
why not numbers? Could one imagine a 4 Corners house? Wow! (see:
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/03/wow-world-and-me.html
) One might suggest that these ideas should be kept at arm's length.
Imagine a group of houses spelling out a name! Why not start with
ARM? Gosh, it might happen! One means no ‘arm.’ Such terrible
puns are indeed the lowest form of humour; but what is architecture
that is based on similar punning strategies? The simple question is:
is ‘K’ OK? Oh, K! Why not an elephant; a vagina? – see:
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2014/08/pairs-11-invisible-houses.html
and
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2014/07/vagina-architecture-its-only-matter-of.html
Might these be better references? What could be the criteria for
assessment? Cheek? Interest? Difference? Experience? Alarm?
There is an
interesting aside: while modern artists and architects deconstruct
the world, cut it up into pieces for interest’s sake and
difference, traditional artists joined pieces together to make
marvels.* (For a new inversion of the traditional world, see: Heatherwick and his Vessel where the step
well stairs are raised to ground level to step towards the sky for
entertainment, with medals being presented to the first group to walk
this ‘Olympian’ design:
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2019/mar/19/hudson-yards-vessel-thomas-heatherwick )
One only has to
look at Angkor Wat and other work in the region, and ponder the process of its making, its pieces,
its joints.^ There is a stark difference in approach and intent
between the traditional and the modern artist that is best revealed
in the face of the sculpture of Jayavaraman VII (National Museum
of Phom Penh) - a different commitment to thinking about the origin of form and art. The astonishing feeling and presence embodied in,
cut into this stone head, leaves one flabbergasted, dumbfounded. Both the
intent and outcome highlight the floundering of our era, its
shallowness, when it has to seek out commercial logos for the clever
beginnings of uniquely striking forms for grand displays, leaving one
wondering just how might difference, envy, hate, love, community and
contentment be best managed in our egocentric times that seem to have other entertaining ambitions and indulgent distractions?+ The schism is
great. Might it be the difference between making and breaking; construction and deconstruction?
Jayavaraman VII
# One is reminded
of the local architect who gave his client a reinforced concrete
house just because he “had always wanted to do one.”
* Martin Lings
has beautifully described the experience of traditional art as being
such that “one cannot marvel enough.”
^ The case for
considering joints in architecture needs developing – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2012/06/architecture-as-joints.html
K is for...
Tuesday 20 Nov 2007
This house is brought to you by ARM
and the letter 'K'
The clients’ brief was to design
an intelligent, environmentally friendly holiday house to which they
could retire in the future. Visually the size of the building appears
as a large explosion of form but internally it is quite modest, with
a site footprint of less that 10%.
Beginning with the letter ‘K’ was not entirely arbitrary as our clients’ family name begins with the letter, and we had tried exploring writing and letters before, and also the space between letters as negative objects. We decided to use the Kmart ‘K’ for our K, now making it the size of a house. Eventually by cutting the K in half across the middle and rotating the two pieces, the house began to emerge as a composition suspended along the maximum building height envelope to achieve the best sea views. Under this we projected its shadow to form the ground level accommodation including the entry and space for two cars.
From the start we wanted to paint the entire house red but due to council regulations and our client’s wishes we made it grey instead and are probably glad we did.
Cladding both ‘K’ and shadow in the same timber panelling allowed the house to achieve a single dynamic as if inspired more by ships than signage, more like a rather racy ark than the sign and its shadow.
Yet it is really the projection of these shadows which defines the large timber decks, especially at the front which provide an elevated platform directly off both the living spaces and the main bedroom. Inside this theme of timber underfoot has been used throughout the living spaces using polished bamboo.
The kitchen joinery, pantry wall, big sliding door and the enormous ceiling-high bookshelf ‘K’ are all painted brilliant, glossy red.
As a plan the house is simple with the ground floor cut into the sloping site and entered directly off the car park with mudroom and storage, two bedrooms, bathrooms and home cinema, then up to the long living, dining and kitchen, all facing north and open each end, east to the sea and west to the garden.
The main bedroom and another bedroom form the other half of the house at this level, with a spiral stair to the library above.
This is a shiplap weatherboard house in the tradition of the seaside shack. It has bold and legible forms and an easy liveability that belies its extreme derivation in the shape of that K.
NOTE:Beginning with the letter ‘K’ was not entirely arbitrary as our clients’ family name begins with the letter, and we had tried exploring writing and letters before, and also the space between letters as negative objects. We decided to use the Kmart ‘K’ for our K, now making it the size of a house. Eventually by cutting the K in half across the middle and rotating the two pieces, the house began to emerge as a composition suspended along the maximum building height envelope to achieve the best sea views. Under this we projected its shadow to form the ground level accommodation including the entry and space for two cars.
From the start we wanted to paint the entire house red but due to council regulations and our client’s wishes we made it grey instead and are probably glad we did.
Cladding both ‘K’ and shadow in the same timber panelling allowed the house to achieve a single dynamic as if inspired more by ships than signage, more like a rather racy ark than the sign and its shadow.
Yet it is really the projection of these shadows which defines the large timber decks, especially at the front which provide an elevated platform directly off both the living spaces and the main bedroom. Inside this theme of timber underfoot has been used throughout the living spaces using polished bamboo.
The kitchen joinery, pantry wall, big sliding door and the enormous ceiling-high bookshelf ‘K’ are all painted brilliant, glossy red.
As a plan the house is simple with the ground floor cut into the sloping site and entered directly off the car park with mudroom and storage, two bedrooms, bathrooms and home cinema, then up to the long living, dining and kitchen, all facing north and open each end, east to the sea and west to the garden.
The main bedroom and another bedroom form the other half of the house at this level, with a spiral stair to the library above.
This is a shiplap weatherboard house in the tradition of the seaside shack. It has bold and legible forms and an easy liveability that belies its extreme derivation in the shape of that K.
Maybe K is for kangaroo; knickerbockers; kite? The problem with leaving matters open is that one can do anything with the words and ideas: scatty hopscotch; late bloomers; kite flyer. Is this 'K'? Modern art hangs its identity on this ad hoc ambiguity and names it as meaning.
SOME LETTER BUILDINGS
+
NOTE
25 March 2019
The report in The Guardian seems to
sum up today’s attitudes: see -
My wife and I don’t have
sex, and I have secretly been buying women’s clothes
Until you test the boundaries of
your desires, you’ll be perpetually dissatisfied, says Mariella
Frostrup
Everything seems to relate to the
individual and only the individual. Issues of community that involve awareness, care, respect and restraint seem to have no place in our self-centred times. If architecture reflects culture
(https://pdhacademy.com/2016/03/28/architecture-reflects-culture/
) then there is much to reflect upon. The concern with the approach to the world articulated by Ms Frostrup is that it can give outcomes like the Christchurch mosque shooting. The implications for architecture need to be taken seriously too.
29 MARCH 2019
On ABC RN, about 11:00am, the person being interviewed was explaining how he used Reddit: "I'm not interested in conversations. I write what I am feeling, and then log out."
Is this the self-centredness that has taken over today, the complete disinterest in others and community? Is this giving us a self-centred architecture, those buildings that declare only 'ME'?
. . .
29 MARCH 2019
On ABC RN, about 11:00am, the person being interviewed was explaining how he used Reddit: "I'm not interested in conversations. I write what I am feeling, and then log out."
Is this the self-centredness that has taken over today, the complete disinterest in others and community? Is this giving us a self-centred architecture, those buildings that declare only 'ME'?
. . .
Things architectural do not get any simpler in this ‘selfie’
world. In an E-mail received today, 29 March 2019, advertising an architectural talk, the words flow with a determined ambiguity:
. . . practice involves the
interrogation of personal and cultural histories that are expanded or
destabilised through the creation of physical modifiers, condition
objects and temporal mourning sites. His works utilise materials and
techniques that are empty of overt signification and as such they are
manifested as wholly new narrative vehicles.
What on earth might this mean? The
modern American jargon response might be: “Go figure!” Is the text supposed to impress?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.