The challenge was to
find the Edition Office (EO) residence on Street View, just to see
its context: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/05/edition-office-re-calibrating-denial-of.html As seems to be the norm these days, all of
the published architectural images excluded every detail of context
that could reasonably be dismissed - see below. The first clue was the name
Hawthorne House; one knew the house was in this portion of
Melbourne, but more was needed. The plans of the project were
inspected - see below: one should look for two rectangles on a long, narrow site
when viewed from above. The north point was indicated, so one could
exclude all sites that were orientated differently. Interestingly,
this meant that most of Hawthorne could be excluded; that only the
houses within the red outline of Google Earth that defined the
Hawthorne limits had to be perused; and, of this conglomerate mix,
only those that faced east need be of any interest. This meant that only the sites on the western side of the streets that ran
north/south were of any interest: the search began.
It continued, and
started again and again. Maybe the place is in East Hawthorne – no;
nothing could be seen there either. The Edition Office images and
drawings were again checked to search for more clues. There was no
doubt that two rectangles should be clear from the air. An image of
‘THE SITE’ was viewed as a part of the rationale explained in the
EO site; this showed the inspirational tree in front of the original
cottage that was removed for the new home: see - http://edition-office.com/ Again, even here, the
context was excluded, with the old tree being photographed to reveal
its grandeur. Only a tiny glimpse of the top of the tall, tiled gable
of the original cottage could be seen. It was decided that perhaps
there was a schism between the aerial view of Google Earth and the
Street View. Sometimes there is no match. Once, with another search,
the aerial view showed the house being sought, that became a vacant
site on Street View. Maybe there was a difference here, in Hawthorne,
too?
The tree and the ridge.
It was decided to
search out the tree that stood in front of a gabled roof with a ridge
running east-west. The aerial view showed that most houses in
Hawthorne had hipped roofs, with some of the newer developments
having what looked like flat tops. The new search began. Eventually
one combination was seen, and Street View was opened: bingo! The needle was found in the haystack of Hawthorne. There is
was, the Hawthorne House at 36 Robinson Road, Hawthorne, VIC, 3122.
With some degree of utter disbelief, the aerial view was again
checked: there were no rectangles, just a tiled gabled roof with an
east-west ridge, and a large tree. There was a difference here
between Earth and Street as had been suspected.
Why are
architects so reluctant to give the details of the precise location of their
projects when they are so public? It is not as though this house was
hidden deep in a private forest, or that it had no relationship to the
street at all. The idea of concealment looked as if there was an ambition to exclude
everything but the bespoke – the genius of the place itself that
sought to have nothing to do with its context. Indeed, Edition Office
has argued that it wanted to ignore the context. Might this be a
matter of theory explaining the problem away – legitimising the
concern by turning it into a clever, philosophical intent? WOW! Am I
not shrewd? The idea sounded something like the assertive statements
in the early twentieth century manifestos of the Futurists: “We no
longer give any recognition to context!” - a stark change to the
popular discussions about place and purpose frequently said to be the
inspiration for projects.
Entry: one assumes that the gate for pedestrians is near the letterbox.*
Street View was interrogated: 36 was boldly declared on the architectural letterbox
beside the gate entry that was disguised as a solid, boarded fence
that used what looked like recycled timber – neat and fashionably
modest. At the other end of the frontage, there was a driveway
crossover that was nicely shared with the neighbour, but there
appeared to be no vehicular access – no driveway gates. Might these
be secretly concealed to read as timber fence too?# Could the car park
on the street? The familiar grey concrete mass stood behind the
marvellous tree. Oddly, the house was not as offensive as one might have
supposed with the reluctance of the designers to publicise the street
identity. One could say that the box excluded everything, but EO has
declared this is what it wanted to do – so? Great! Success! What
else can one say?
The house held
something of the character of the electrical substations seen in the older city suburbs – bold,
solid, introvert masses that have their own pride of functional place
without offering too much offence with their being there.
Brisbane's substations.
One did wonder how
one would find the front door if one walked in through the gate after its discovery, but the entry might become self-evident with the approach; it was not clear. Looking at
the EO images again, one can see a concentration on detail – very
nice detail too: see - http://edition-office.com/ One can see how this home works as an enclosed indulgence. Just why
the architects couldn’t touch place and context with some gentle
recognition, some subtle resonance, remains a problem; a question. Thank goodness for the
mature tree! It turns out to be the magnificent landmark for the
project, and the clue for its discovery on Google Earth. Is this good
enough?
One can test the
proposition by supposing that one had a whole suburb full of concrete
boxes just like this – all very carefully considered concrete boxes
too. What might the street feel like? What would the street be? Might
it feel voided; a little intimidating; disconcerting, like standing outside a jail? Does a street
get a little life from the glimpses that go between inside and out; outside and in: those tiny responsive surprises; those miniature, miracle wonders; the minuscule, muffled delights? The
test of repetition is always interesting, because a one-off is easily able to look astonishingly different, entertaining with its bespoke
brilliance, like a Gehry. One concrete box might be stunning; but
hundreds? Can we all ignore context and still maintain some relevance for
public places; or is this only a private, individual game, good for
one only?
The driveway identifies the vehicular approach disguised by the fence detailing.
There is no confusion with the neighbour's vehicular approach.
Street furniture; the demands of necessity.
One might guess that
the blinded street could be a little intimidating, eerily voided,
avoided, as if it held nothing of importance for us, or for anyone; but the
dwellings themselves could all be very pleasant places. This EO home
would be lovely to experience; but might one miss the street, the
other: that 'I - Thou' experience? Is the problem a lack of engagement with the other? Such
enclosure as provided on the upper level, when forced, is seen to be less
than desirable. Can we all really ignore the street in our projects
when it is only the street that we have as connecting public place? -
see:
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-importance-of-street.html
It appears that some gesture towards these spaces is desirable; that
there needs to be something given to the street other than exclusion
if we are to have vibrant, living public zones in our cities. One has to be careful here,
as the 1970/80s engaged in an exaggerated self-conscious awareness of
the street, with planners forcing much onto projects that was irrelevant
and undesirable, all in the name of theory.
The street address.
The opposite side of the street.
That the theoretically-repeated, boxed homes might all be privately pleasant, is as they should be –
and EO has managed this beautifully, elegantly; but one does wonder
about that in-between, the mediation between private and public that
holds a subtle ambiguity in its open intrigue, rather than being confined, silenced within a bland concrete box that is unresponsive to all else but MY interior world. Is a flash letterbox enough of a public gesture for recognition? It is this ignoring of others
that worries here; the turning of one’s back on to everything but
the private, personal delights that fill this little place – for
the other surprise here is its intimate scale. One cannot complain
about any overbearing presence; it has an identity that has a modest
quiet about it.
The opposite side of the street.
Robinson Road.
One is not trying to
offer solutions here; just seeking to explore matters so that our
understanding can be tested, our reasoning challenged, juggled with possibilities
seeking a wholeness that can enrich rather than engaging with an
interesting piecemeal jigsaw of specialities; a scattering of iconic
buildings that seek to ignore others: is it even possible? It seems that the critique here
has to be with the strategy itself rather than the outcome. We need
to know more about how we can make better streets rather than letting
our public places be shaped in the negative, by neglect – fashioned by
what remains of our conscious efforts elsewhere, that frame them; that make them
what they are, by way of default. The street is what is left over after everyone has attended to other things.
The neighbours.
The question seems
to be not: what is a house, a home?; but: what is a street? What might
a street be? Louis Kahn could have put it this way: “Street, what
would you like to be?” Gorgeous detailing of private place and its
clever, spatial intertwining does nothing significant for the street, for public
purpose. How do we make a good street? Should we? Can we? Sadly, apart from our private places, the street is all we really have: it deserves our attention.
THE ARCHITECTURAL PHOTOGRAPHS
For more images and detail, see:
Note the exclusion of all references to context. The occasional glimpses one gets of the neighbours seem to be there out of sheer necessity, with the camera being unable to exclude them in spite of, so it seems, every effort having been made.
View to street from the residence.
# Note the car parking area to the left.
The gate is indeed disguised as the fence, like the pedestrian gate.
It seems that the illusion is necessary in order to ensure that the strategy to ignore context is complete in every way.
THE DRAWINGS
*
NOTE:
One is reminded of Saarinen's CBS building that raised the question that Post Modernism sought to respond to: Where is the entry?
This proved to be a turning point in Modernism. Are we now dealing with a 'Modernism.02'? Perhaps we need a 'Post Modernism.02'?
24 February 2020
What is it with Melbourne? Does the city have arches in its genes?
INSPIRATION?
The high-end New York hotel designed as a homage to ancient Roman
architecture
17 December 2022
NOTE
This recently published video gives a good overall impression of the residence: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jCuQGN3fOc
While there are a couple of images of the house in its context, the majority of the images are carefully framed to exclude the neighbours, with the interiors remaining remarkably like the spaces that are voided for ‘architectural’ presentations, instead of being filled by life and its living; its natural messiness.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.