Wednesday, 5 April 2023

VISUALIZING BEAUTY: A GALLERY SHOP, TRANQUILITY & STONES


More on architectural presentations: on offering collages of preferred experience in images and words. There are three reports that need comment:

https://www.archdaily.com/998804/gallery-shop-for-art-gallery-of-nsw-new-sydney-modern-building-akin-atelier;

https://www.visualpleasure.co/magazine/wentz-blackhaus-architecture-of-silence;

and

https://architectureau.com/articles/pebble-stack-inspires-extension-to-infamous-taylor-square-landmark/.



This is a subject that has been addressed previously; see -

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/03/architectural-presentation-problems.html and

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/01/how-to-see-architecture.html:

but it is important to show how we seem to be accepting this strategy without any questions about what it might be doing, both to our understanding and our expectations; our ambitions. While the idea of this approach seems to seek to define the way in which a project is experienced, these prescribed encounters can change us, restructuring our expectations to want to do likewise with our efforts: to hunt for an ephemeral presence without substance. A cycle can be established where this approach drives the very same intent in its own self-centred presentation: and so it goes on. We can only break this continuity with an awareness of what is happening, so that we can consciously avoid it. The first text is one on the gallery shop for Sydney Modern^ designed by Akin Atelier. Some thoughts on this new gallery by the Japanese studio SANAA, have been published in https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/02/thoughts-on-sydney-modern.html. The article on the gallery shop is included here for clarification:



Gallery Shop for Art Gallery of NSW New Sydney Modern Building / Akin Atelier

Text description provided by the architects. Located in the Entrance Pavilion of the Art Gallery of New South Wales’s new Sydney Modern building, the Gallery Shop designed by Akin Atelier is an immersive first-of-its-kind large-scale resin installation, achieved through collaboration with Hayden Cox, shaping a luminous space of shifting perspectives and refractions of light. Opened in December 2022, the new building, designed by Pritzker Prize–winning architects Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa of SANAA, is the centerpiece# of the Art Gallery’s Sydney Modern Project expansion. It is the most significant cultural development to open in the city since the Sydney Opera House nearly half a century ago. Akin Atelier conceived the Gallery Shop as a bubble within an architectural landscape that draws the intimate touchpoints of the Art Gallery and the Domain into its reflection. The design responds in counterpoise to the large and open volumes of the art museum building which cascades down the landscape towards Sydney Harbour, creating focal points of four key precincts: Woolloomooloo, Potts Point, Central Sydney, and the Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain.



“At first glance, this work makes a bold and simple statement. Its purpose is defined, and its identity is definite. But with further investigation and understanding, you see its complexity and that it is in harmony with its natural, architectural, and artistic context.” - Kelvin Ho, Principal, Akin Atelier.



Fluid contours of bio-resin, a custom formulation written specifically by Cox for the project, wrap the shop’s perimeter to form a transparent margin that serves as both boundary and display. The bubble captures natural light throughout the day bringing dynamic reflections and refractions of the city while holding people, objects, and books within its center.# A pair of ‘windows’ in the perimeter form sits on a singular axis, allowing a direct line of sight from the Domain, across the volume of the shop and into the Entrance Pavilion that creates a frame for artworks, including the exuberant floral sculpture by Yayoi Kusama, Flowers that Bloom in the Cosmos, on the external terrace. Akin Atelier worked with multi-disciplinary designer Hayden Cox, best known for his innovative, world-leading surfboard brand Haydenshapes, over two years in an experimental and collaborative design development and research process to achieve the complex, large-format application of bio-resin, pushing shape and volume beyond the normal parameters to best harness light and color. With resin being a key material traditional to surfboard manufacturing, the unique collaboration drew on experience and learnings from Cox’s previous large-scale resin and design work applied to interior architecture.



I think the experimental nature of what we’ve created has been a huge motivation for all involved. It’s not a tried and tested concept, but more a hybrid of design, architecture, innovation, and art. Drawing on 25 years of working with resin across various disciplines, being able to truly push the application of this materiality at this scale and level was an intriguing design challenge and a privilege to realize collaboratively with the team at Akin Atelier and the Art Gallery of NSW.” - Hayden Cox, Lead Designer and Founder, Haydenshapes.



Akin Atelier’s choice of resin as the primary material for the Gallery Shop speaks directly to the transparency of SANAA’s building design in public spaces. The resin was selected for its texture, dimension, and ability to respond to the shifting daylight. The handmade craft of this material allowed for experimentation across color# and form. Through the lens of the surrounding landscape, the bespoke quality and hand finish of the installation addresses the patinated qualities of the incidental structures and touchpoints of the external environment; time-worn balustrades, striated sandstone cut-ins, soap boxes, and rotundas.

"The site gave us a unique opportunity to break past the ‘exit through the gift shop’ conventions and extend the artistic experience of the Art Gallery into the design of the retail space. Our intention was for the work to clearly express a sense of place in a way that not only preserved but also enriched the cultural & architectural experience of the gallery. These were the ideas that drove both the design & materiality of this project.” – Alexandra Holman, Associate.



Color selection was led by Akin Atelier’s creative directors Kelvin Ho and Alexandra Holman. A rigorous exploration of the Art Gallery’s context resulted in the color referencing the sandstone of the original gallery building. The gradation of tone speaks to the layered nature of Sydney’s sandstone geology and acts as a visual continuation of the rammed earth wall present in the gallery volumes of the new building on the levels below. Utilizing 12 tonnes of bio-resin, sintered layers of color with micro-weighted pigment volumes were hand poured and finished by Cox’s dedicated resin team in Mona Vale, Sydney, into custom molds for 109 consecutive days to achieve the gradient. The bubble’s glossy translucency was achieved with 12 grit levels of hand-sanding and 7 sand-polishing stages. Each unit required over 3 weeks of hand polishing by highly skilled, specialist Haydenshapes resin workers. A total of 29 unique resin modules each weighing between 300 and 500 kilograms comprises the installation.



Mold construction and on-site installation were done by EMAC Constructions. An all-Australian design, fabrication, and build team delivered this innovative project.

The Gallery Shop designed by Akin Atelier is the principal retail space of the Art Gallery of NSW’s new building. It is conceived as both a retail experience and a sculptural installation achieved through collaborative resin design and materiality exploration with Hayden Cox. The appetite for experimentation in form and materiality has resulted in the realization of an unprecedented application of resin to reflect, experience, and observe.


^

Sydney Modern’ is a temporary name that refers to the new extension of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. There seems to be some problem in deciding on what to call this project that would preferably like an acronym like MOMA or GOMA that these places seem to enjoy. The difficulty appears to be finding an acronym that has not been used.

#

Akin Atelier is a Sydney-based spatial communications practice comprised of architects, interior designers and strategists - https://www.akinatelier.com/: so why are we getting the American spellings?



It is as though the editor wanted to make it clear; the first words under the headline are: Text description provided by the architects. Is the message: “Don’t blame me for this blurb”?



This text is yet another example of today’s problems with architectural publications. While the subject seems to be the fit-out for the shop, there is no indication of its context in the whole gallery apart from some words: Located in the Entrance Pavilion of the Art Gallery of New South Wales’s new Sydney Modern building wherever this might be. This description really says very little; and the chosen images do not assist. All we see is some Miesian glass box with a skillion roof – in part; and many selected images of pieces of the fit-out. The photographs of the surrounding built environment have been limited to just a very small portion of the new gallery; a part of the entry zone. One has no idea of where this might be in the larger pattern of place; it is as though this might be irrelevant, even though the texts makes a reference to the surroundings as though they mattered.



The concern is that we are told both what to see in this work, and how to perceive it, with defining descriptions that tell us somewhat poetically that the project is: an immersive first-of-its-kind large-scale resin installation . . . shaping a luminous space of shifting perspectives and refractions of light. . . . a bubble within an architectural landscape that draws the intimate touchpoints of the Art Gallery and the Domain into its reflection. What does this mean? What is the architectural landscape? What are the intimate touchpoints? One senses that there is something important here that one does not yet comprehend; that one has to work harder to catch up.



The experience of place is described for us with a deliberate certainty: “At first glance, this work makes a bold and simple statement. Its purpose is defined, and its identity is definite. But with further investigation and understanding, you see its complexity and that it is in harmony with its natural, architectural, and artistic context.” - Kelvin Ho, Principal, Akin Atelier. The implication seems to be that one just does not understand – again: “It’s your problem! Do some more investigation to discover the genius here.



The words continue to tell one what to see: Fluid contours of bio-resin . . . wrap the shop’s perimeter to form a transparent margin that serves as both boundary and display. There is an inevitability in what is expected to be experienced here with words like ‘makes; definite; you see; it is; serves’ and ‘captures’: The bubble captures natural light throughout the day bringing dynamic reflections and refractions of the city while holding people, objects, and books within its center. It is just that this is so; doubts that could be expressed in any questioning are excluded – they are just not a possibility.




The text makes its comments on SANAA’s Sydney Modern: The design responds in counterpoise to the large and open volumes of the art museum building which cascades down the landscape towards Sydney Harbour, creating focal points of four key precincts: Woolloomooloo, Potts Point, Central Sydney, and the Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain. We are told that the building creates these focal points: one was wondering what to make of this new work, its rationale see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/02/thoughts-on-sydney-modern.html, so it is interesting to hear another opinion. Yet the concept outlined here is an odd proposition. One might have thought that, given the prior explanation that the building has been inspired by its surroundings, that these city places might have played a role in generating the new building rather than vice versa. Why does this text seek to give a controlling dominance to the new gallery, as if it is making the city whole? Is the building struggling for an explanation; some significance; some relevance given that it has been claimed that it has taken over from the Sydney Opera House?


the Sydney Modern is presented as this one external drone image taken at various heights.




We are given the impression in the photographs provided, of a glass box, but are then told about a specialpair of ‘windows’ ’: A pair of ‘windows’ in the perimeter form sits on a singular axis, allowing a direct line of sight from the Domain, across the volume of the shop and into the Entrance Pavilion that creates a frame for artworks, including the exuberant floral sculpture by Yayoi Kusama, Flowers that Bloom in the Cosmos, on the external terrace. We are not shown any of this in the selected images. The text continues explaining that the project/architect was: able to truly push the application of this materiality . . . What does this mean? Is the observer again being placed into the embarrassment of a ‘not understanding’ circumstance, being made to feel lesser, again incapable of comprehending genius? Whatever it is, the fit-out ‘speaks’ even if not clearly to the observer: Akin Atelier’s choice of resin as the primary material for the Gallery Shop speaks directly to the transparency of SANAA’s building design in public spaces. What might it say? What is this mystery? Is there something here that seeks to be special, hyped up with alien American English? Is the text really written only for the American market? Does the bespoke quality . . . address in these different words too?



We continue to be told what is to be experienced in this encounter: Through the lens of the surrounding landscape, the bespoke quality and hand finish of the installation addresses the patinated qualities of the incidental structures and touchpoints of the external environment; time-worn balustrades, striated sandstone cut-ins, soap boxes, and rotundas. Such important matters are not illustrated; nor are the colour referents. One would like to see how the sandstone of the original building sits with this piece as well as the whole new building, but we do not get a glimpse of anything. Can one see the original building from this location? Is this comparison important only as a story that fits a memory? A rigorous exploration of the Art Gallery’s context resulted in the color referencing the sandstone of the original gallery building. The gradation of tone speaks to the layered nature of Sydney’s sandstone geology and acts as a visual continuation of the rammed earth wall present in the gallery volumes of the new building on the levels below. Now the reference is to rammed earth somewhere below. Is the text playing the Gehry game of grabbing at anything/everything, with the hope that something might stick? - see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-gehry-talk-domes-cones-and-inspired.html. Here we have yet more ‘speaking’; might this be in tongues? What could this mean?



Then, apparently to drag the visions into the real world, we get the statistics involved in this work, as if these figures might assist us in ‘understanding’ and ‘appreciating’ this place with more astonishment: Utilizing 12 tonnes of bio-resin, sintered layers of color with micro-weighted pigment volumes were hand poured and finished by Cox’s dedicated resin team in Mona Vale, Sydney, into custom molds for 109 consecutive days to achieve the gradient. The bubble’s glossy translucency was achieved with 12 grit levels of hand-sanding and 7 sand-polishing stages. Each unit required over 3 weeks of hand polishing by highly skilled, specialist Haydenshapes resin workers. A total of 29 unique resin modules each weighing between 300 and 500 kilograms comprises the installation. ?? “WOW!” - (I think). Here we continue to get the ambiguous description of the project as ‘the installation,’ perhaps suggesting that it might be seen as an artwork itself.



By way of summary, we are finally told that this fit-out has given us something ‘unprecedented’ to look at, as if this revelation might be an amazing, transformative outcome rather than a matter of fact: The appetite for experimentation in form and materiality has resulted in the realization of an unprecedented application of resin to reflect, experience, and observe.



What are we to make of this? We are offered a set of photographic pieces and a set of words that define a way for our ‘way of seeing,’ that has, interspersed in this amalgam of dreams, a set of facts and figures that appear to seek our further astonishment; or is the idea to lock in the facts and figures in order to create a concrete reality of this ‘visualization of beauty’?



The situation is not unlike that in this ‘sublime’ piece, the second article in this commentary that is again reproduced here for easy referencehttps://www.visualpleasure.co/magazine/wentz-blackhaus-architecture-of-silence.



Visualizing the Beauty of Tranquility and Peace with the Architecture of Silence

THE SPATIAL STYLING OF WENTZ AND BLACKHAUS CREATES A MINIMALISTIC UTOPIA

Architecture of Silence is a collaboration between Wentz and Blackhaus, a creative studio specializing in architectural visualization and digital content. The project is a beautiful, sleek campaign that shows the brand's products in a serene environment, distorting the boundaries between reality and imagination. A utopian scenario of what the ideal architecture could be, the project seems to capture the serenity and silence of these rooms in the photographs, showcasing a monochromatic and simplistic way of living. All of the outside noise fades away in the tranquility and stillness of these spaces.


Playing softly with light and shadow, space here feels calm yet creative with unexpected lines, like curved walls, grand columns, arched doorframes, and spacious stairways. With the restricted use of color, the smallest details pop, seen in the texture on the walls, the speckle in the stone, and the tonal shifts of color between furniture, rugs, and accessories. Even the shadows made with natural and artificial light seem to be intentional and deliberately done.



Through the use of Wentz’s spatial understanding and Blackhaus’s abstract, minimalistic pieces, the Architecture of Silence becomes an otherworldly plane where home and peace meld. It doesn’t feel entirely functional nor entirely stylized. It’s an amalgamation of the two, meeting in a place where mindful silence and understated beauty come to play with design, creativity, utilitarianism, tranquility, and a humbling sense of calm.




Here we have the same critique: an ad hoc collection of images is provided for us to make sense of, all without any context, and with words that, somewhat hypnotically, tell us what and how to see and feel: the outside noise fades away just like everything outside; It's an amalgamation of the two, meeting in a place where mindful silence and understated beauty come to play with design, creativity, utilitarianism, tranquility, and a humbling sense of calm. These soulful images, more than anything, reveal the power and subtle intent of the selectively framed image, a purely theatrical stance that has become the architectural normsee: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/03/architectural-presentation-problems.html and https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2023/01/how-to-see-architecture.html.




The words offer a certain, unquestioned, present tense, highlighting the idea that the images, almost by way of proof, have this too, all without any suggestion that things might, or could be otherwise: The project is a beautiful, sleek campaign that shows the brand's products in a serene environment, distorting the boundaries between reality and imagination. A utopian scenario of what the ideal architecture could be. . . . home and peace meld. The designer seeks to manage everything, both the production and the experience. In perusing the selected images, one might indeed perceive a tranquil peace in the blurred beiges; but the critical eye asks: Would this really be so if one was sitting or standing in this particular situation? The answer appears to be “No,” that one might feel to be on display, as if on stage, like an awkward, self-conscious shag on a rock, waiting, posing, getting ready to be photographed for a publication that seeks a certain defined intent in expression. One might call this ‘fake’ if the word was not so abused; a ‘mock-up’ might be a nicer word with references to sham theatrical sets and scornful contempt.





Here it is interesting to observe that in both these images and those of the gallery shop, not one person is shown. With the gallery shop, even the image with the sculpture has not been chosen to be published. These illustrations that include things ‘sundry,’ are, so it seems, best kept for Facebook perusals: but, one might ask, what is architecture for if not for people, their shelter and habitation? The great danger is that we will come to see architecture as something uniquely ‘interesting’ to admire; something to drool over; something to do to create a bespoke expression for admiration, publication, and praise.




This image that does show a little more of the context was not used in the publication.


One has to ask: Does the problem here lie in the possibility that we are getting words, ideas, and images that have all been formed by way of explanation in review? This introduces us to our third article that is reproduced below: see - https://architectureau.com/articles/pebble-stack-inspires-extension-to-infamous-taylor-square-landmark/. This text suggests that hindsight might be playing a role in these presentations.



Pebble stack inspires extension to infamous Taylor Square landmark

David Mitchell Architects has designed an extension to an iconic Federation-era building in Sydney’s Taylor Square.

Inspired by “the layering of volumes like the pebble stack,” the design creates a “sympathetic” addition to the existing building.

The extended floors follow the curved design of the existing building’s facade. “Each floor is clearly separated in the articulation of the perimeter planters,” said the architects in a design statement.

The proposed building is predominantly a concrete building sitting on top of [a] brick building, with [a] small area of green-pigmented concrete to the facade providing] banding elements, while white steel balustrade, overhanging plantings, aluminium framing and glazing have been carefully selected refining the architectural language and softening the appearance of the harder materials. The facades have been carefully composed to express scale, promotion, rhythm and variation suitable to a development of its size.

The proposed design, [sic] balances the influences of the strong local historical built form with the also contemporary nature of the design and is considered highly sympathetic to the local existing context as well as the desired creative and cultural character of the area.”

The redeveloped building will accommodate commercial office spaces, as well as a live music venue in the basement and hospitality spaces on the ground floor and rooftop.

Originally constructed in 1910, the building was designed by Ross and Rowe and was first home to the Government Savings Bank of New South Wales. It later became the Taylor Square Hotel, a notorious night club that was named among the state’s 48 most violent licensed venues.

In 2010, the City of Sydney bought the premises and housed the UNSW College of Fine Arts. The site is currently vacant and owned by Archon Property.




Was the pebble stack the inspiration or the ‘best’ explanation for this scheme that one could see as being somewhat awkward? We are told in the very first paragraph that the project was Inspired by “the layering of volumes like the pebble stack,” and that the design creates a “sympathetic” addition to the existing building, as if this might be so; but nothing more about this analogy other than, in the fourth paragraph, there is the word ‘balance’: balances the influences of the strong local historical built form with the also contemporary nature of the design. This relationship, we are told, is considered highly sympathetic to the local existing context. The particular characteristics of pebble stacks seem to be irrelevant other than with the ‘stacking’ and ‘balancing’ involved, with the obvious layering of the extra floors above the iconic Federation-era building, and the esoteric ‘balancing’ of the ‘influences.’ One gets the impression that the words come after the event; that there is no native rigour in this match.




Andy Goldsworthy

Stone stacks can be astonishing, leaving one wondering if the work might have some of the remarkable elegance and refinement of, say, Andy Goldsworthy’s work* - see: https://andygoldsworthystudio.com/ and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andy_Goldsworthy; or might it be just a novice’s pile? Looking at the project, it seems perhaps that the concept relates more to a simple stacking act, a basic layering, rather than to anything thoughtfully amazing that might reveal some unique qualities of wonder in our natural world.



If we are going to ground our works in substance, then we need more honesty; we need to be less pretentious. Fancy words and quirky ideas do not made our concepts any more precious; neither do selective images make our work better: these bespoke choices merely fabricate ways of seeing that seek control over perceptions, to suggest what was hoped be there. We need to understand that substance is rooted in meaning; that meaning is rooted in substance. One cannot grasp at a phantom, alien beauty and seek to ground it in place by preferred words and photographs alone. Such a presence is as ephemeral and amorphous as a cloud; get close and it is nothing. Real beauty is grounded in the ordinary that becomes extraordinary in a remarkable way; it has depth. It cannot be forced or called up with the manipulations of the ouija board of words and images. Beauty has a certainty; but certainty does not make beauty manifest, no matter how mysteriously or suggestively determined one might be; no matter how cleverly ‘creative’ the publication might be. Having understood these things, we might be able to see the problems with our presentations and make changes to our approach to things rich and subtle.






NOTE A:

One has to be careful of one’s references: see -

https://www.gizmodo.com.au/2023/04/the-uaes-flagship-luxury-yacht-took-design-cues-from-u-s-aircraft-carriers/

The questions are: how appropriate is the original source of inspiration? Has the reference been chosen just for moral, aesthetic support; for a good, enriching story? Here, in this article, one has to wonder: What is common between a yacht and an aircraft carrier other than perhaps a helipad or two? Is one trying to draw a parallel between an elephant and a seagull because both have feet? One has to hope that this idea remains just a concept to be skilfully illustrated rather than constructed. It seems to be best kept as an academic exercise. Maybe the pebble stack could be an explanation for this floating wonder too, what with its layering and unlikely mass?






*

NOTE B:

For a cross section of Goldsworthy’s work, see:

https://www.google.com/search?q=andy+goldsworthy&sxsrf=APwXEdelIcIOSim3SA6kQES7QE0C9h6DNQ:1680584710310&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwja1LD1uY_-AhXvklYBHfxWAk8Q_AUoAXoECAEQAw&biw=1902&bih=1132&dpr=1










NOTE C:

The issue seems to be that architects are no longer prepared to risk the reading of their work, be this the everyday experience of the place or the critics review of it. So the published texts not only tell the viewer what to see, and how to see it; but they also include the review of the project too, in explanations of readings, intents, and experiences that are all given in the positive, present tense that insists on these things all being so. Doubt is not erased; it is just never allowed to have any presence. The problem with this situation is that there is no interest in feedback; that the architect is happy to, and wants to, live in the special bubble of personal visions and preferences. There is no idea that these matters need testing or even correcting. One can see this circumstance as being the equivalent of the ‘selfie syndrome’ that is stimulated by social media; and could liken the situation to that of the young lady who spoke so quickly that folk commented that they could not understand what she was saying. The response was, “I know what I am saying.” That communication has a native necessity for transmission and clarity to facilitate understanding seems to have meant nothing. Have architects assumed the same position, being happy with the fact that they know what they are saying irrespective of all other opinions?

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