Blurring The Lines

Abstruse Goose is a comic I keep up with via my RSS feeds, and the other day I came across this strip.

I’ve made some pretty lengthy posts about how devices are blurring the lines between self and space and what will happen when the line can’t be distinguished at all- so it’s funny to see all those thoughts communicated more effectively with a comic strip panel and a single sentence. It sums everything up beautifully- whereas architecture is typically about exploring how humans relate to space, interactive architecture is about exploring ways to blur the two together. As the comic shows, it’s probably happening faster than we think.

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Archipelagos & Armageddon

A tweet from my sister the other day made me realize just how many floating city-type projects we’ve been seeing in the last little while. With space exploration having taken very small baby steps in the past few decades, these projects seem to be fulfilling people’s desire to escape the Terran earth. They range from small scale, immediately-feasible structures right up to large scale visions of a sustainable life adrift.

On the small scale, there’s the recent Citadel, soon to be built by Koen Olthuis in the Netherlands. The 60 apartments are part of a larger on-water project that is made to address the rising Dutch coastlines. Though the apartments floating on top of the waters, the remain physically connected with the mainland. The buildings promise to consume 25% less energy thanks to reduced needs for cooling.

The Citadel apartment buildings. Source:” Koen Olthuis

Morris Architects takes the next step up by abandoning the shore entirely. They propose to make use of 4000 oil rigs would by converting them into luxury hotels that rest out on the blue sea.

A repurposed oil rig, as designed by Morris. Source:Morris Architects

The Swimming City, by Andras Gyorfi, is a similar project- though it’s larger (as it’s not restricted to the size of an oil rig) and distinctly more playful.

The Swimming City gives off a watery Duplo vibe. Source:Andras Gyorfi

On the large scale, there’s Vincent Callebaut’s magnificent Lilypad. These vegetation-covered, solar powered, zero emissions, free-floating islands would provide home, work and play for 50,000 people/archipleago.

The Lilypad, adrift on the ocean’s waters. Source: Vincent Callebaut

The Lilypad itself appears to take great influence from BIG’s Mer project:

The Citadel, by Koen Olthuis. Source: BIG Architects

And National Geographic outlines a series of other similar projects in this article. So, the impact these projects have on the imagination is clear.

A number of factors have driven these watery visions to relevance and popularity. The green influence is obvious- any floating form of habitation would help reduce the damaging sprawl of typical urbanism. As well, the fixed-size, self-contained nature of each unit is a good defense against the looming threat of overpopulation, and living adrift would render inhabitants immune to rising coastlines. All of these things are pressing, hot-button topics.

But personally, what I find hilarious is how these projects are deemed as “green”, because of their goals of self reliance and zero ecological impact- and I laugh because those very same properties essentially make the projects giant disaster pods. Sure, any zero-impact project seeks to grant us a level of isolation from the environment so that we may stop having a negative effect on it- but if you cut ties to land entirely and let structure become nomadic, then there is no need for the environment at all. Just give us our world of water, keep the UV levels reasonable and make sure at least some algae survive- and the rest won’t matter. We’ll be fine.

Perhaps one of the reasons these projects are inspiring to us is that, deep down, they illustrate the continuity of our current lifestyle in the future, even if we’ve dealt a fatal blow to environment in the present?

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Busking and Architecture

A few weeks ago, I was walking between subway lines when I passed a busker- a common sight on the TTC. As I did, though, I noticed that all the people who were walking immediately by him had headphones plugged firmly into their ears. After noticing that, I scanned my eyes over the area- probably 30% of people walking through the subway were listening to some kind of music device- maybe 60% if you only consider people that were traveling alone. That 60% included me, by the way.

It must kind of suck to be a busker these days. You go out in public to share music that you are passionate about with the people around you, but your efforts will fall largely on unhearing ears. If the busker wanted to tell me that people were becoming more antisocial and choosing to shut themselves out from their community, I could see where he’s coming from. By putting in the headphones, you’re and blocking out the opportunity for interaction with something that might be right in front of your face.

Now, I might sympathise with the busker, but that doesn’t mean I’d in any way agree with him. I might seem isolated when I listen to my iPod on the subway, but then I’ll then go home, hop on last.fm and be put in contact with people all over the world who like the same kind of music as me. I can share my favourite tracks, message other people and discuss all the tunes I’d been listening to while I was underground.

People aren’t shutting themselves out of their community- people are simply *choosing* which communities they want to participate in, because- for the first time in history- community need not be defined simply as “proximity in space”. And I think this is a great thing.

The example of music is just one manifestation of an overall shift. At bars, people can hop onto Facebook via their phones and communicate with everyone they know- not just the people sitting there in the booth. In a car, people can choose from hundreds of specialized satellite radio stations rather than be restricted to more generic stations in broadcast range. Movie theatre are filled with tiny points of light as people use their iPhones and blackberries to surf the web/Facebook/Twitter- each point of light marking a place where someone’s attention is leaping out of the theatre and into a virtual arena.

That “leap” I speak of represents exactly what’s driving the redefinition of community- a radical decoupling of physical space and perceptual space.

The decoupling is occurring now thanks to a tipping point we’ve reached in the mass availability of media & communication technology. Portable players no longer hold an hour of music- they hold weeks. Phones no longer just call a person- they put us in touch with thousands of people at a time. Computers are no longer $2000 monoliths- $350 will get you all the computation needed by most people, in the convenient form factor of a 9″ netbook. Internet connectivity isn’t tied down to a desk- it’s on every corner and it’s in your pocket. With the tipping point reached, we have the remarkable situation where your mental location is independent of your physical space. Who saw that one coming?

And more importantly- how will architecture respond? After all, the fact that these devices are changing society is old news- but the fact that they’re changing how we relate to space is barely addressed. Now that the concept of community has escaped into online circles and been completely remixed, what can we do to distill those communities back into actual space?

I’d like to see bars that coffee shops that change the music played based on occupants who share their last.fm proflies. I’d like to see pavillons that cannot be booked by organizations, but whose purpose (for any given moment) is voted up by netizens, digg-style. I’d like to see mobile apps that tell you, based on your Delicious bookmarks, where in space there are currently other people gathered with interest similar to yours, and where in space you might go to talk with people who might challenge your views.

Now, it would be easy to imagine any of these things simply implanted into our currenty situation. However, having these kinds of cultural phenomena will not happen in a vacuum- they will have a very dramatic effect on the spaces we build. As with most things these days, the power dynamic is turned on its head. Broadcast is dead; there no longer just one message communicated unlaterally to those that can’t talk back. User-created content is king. The best buildings would be the ones where the architect reliquishes his control over space so as to let virtual community building happen in the real world. The age of transparency will have finally spilled over in our industry.

If any existing building sums up this new direction, it’s Diller & Scofidio’s Blur Building.

The amorphous Blur Building, encased in its shifting mist.

The building isn’t so much a building as it is a framework onto which people impose their own meaning. And the architect’s role isn’t so much to create meaning through form as it is to create an arena- the rules by which others can create meaning for themselves.

Whereas I’ve recently been skeptical of the role interaction in architecture, I’m now thinking that this is truly what it can bring the architectural table.

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