Arch. Myriam B. Mahiques Curriculum Vitae

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Design ideas for schoolyard transformation



Story  written by Shanti Menon.
In her new book Asphalt to Ecosystems: Design Ideas for Schoolyard Transformation, Berkeley-based environmental planner Sharon Danks explores the ways in which landscape design, architecture, child development, and nutrition converge in the schoolyard. OnEarth sat down with Danks, whose firm, Bay Tree Designs, Inc, is helping redevelop some 29 San Francisco schoolyards, to talk about how communities are transforming the asphalt playgrounds of the past into green spaces conducive to better learning, eating, and playing.


Q. How have playgrounds changed since we were kids?
A. Playgrounds these days are influenced largely by liability concerns. Swings are disappearing, bars are getting lower, structures are becoming less challenging. My 4-year-old recently broke her arm on a play structure meant for 2 to 5-year-olds because she found it so boring. She was walking on the outside of the bridge and sliding down the handrail and fell off. These structures are so unchallenging that kids are making up their own activities, which are often 10 times more dangerous.
Q. What's your vision of a better playground?
A. We want to give kids something more than play structures and ball games. We call them "ecological schoolyards," environments that combine diverse ecosystems with varied play environments and hands-on learning experiences. Richard Louv, the author of Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder, says that playgrounds based on ballgames and athleticism are home to more bullying. In more natural environments, it's less about who's the strongest and the fastest and more about using the imagination. It changes the dynamic of who's in charge. And there's less conflict because the kids aren't as bored.
Q. How can kids learn from playgrounds?
A. You can embed a curriculum into the landscape by allowing students to see natural systems as they function. So instead of studying a watershed in a book, for example, they can see rainwater falling off their roof into a pond. Most students would shrug if you asked them when it last rained, but here they can run to the window and see how dry the pond looks.
Pictures from
Keep on reading:

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Interview with landscape architect Laurie Olin

Simon and Helen Director Park in Portland, OR. PHOTO: ZGF
Arch. Laurie Olin


Excerpts from the interview with landscape arch. Laurie Olin, author: Johanna Hoffman. For Planetizen.

Social issues play a big role in your work. What kind of process do you go through to spacialize social factors in a new project?

There's no specific process, really. The process of design is really all about asking yourself, "Where am I?" "What's the nature of the this place?" And the answer's always different.
A large part of designing is becoming a student of people. To design well you have to be interested in and learn about how people behave. For instance, humans really are the most devious and gregarious of the four great apes – the chimp, the gorilla and so on. We love to be together and watch other humans eat. So the work is in large part about designing nice places for those kinds of things to occur. Our designs are how we show what we've learned.

What are your most important goals in pursuing landscape architecture?

Well the first, to borrow a medical term, is 'do no harm.' No matter how you approach a project, you have to do what’s appropriate to the particular place and time.
And if we start to talk about social issues, we usually in this day and age start talking about sustainability. When we talk about sustainability we end up talking about ecology. So for me, landscape architecture, social issues, and the environment are all inseparable.(...)

One thing I've noticed about your designs is the way many of them feel as if they’ve been in place a long time, even if they're recent works. How do you think history influences your work?

History’s really a remarkable thing if you’re not afraid of it. If you don’t know your history you are an empty vessel. But if you do, you’re pretty well equipped for most things. Each phase of history lays down it’s view of the world in its respective layer; each generation has to be able to do so.
But in order to do your layer well, you better know the other layers. There’s no such thing as a blank slate. To do it well, knowing the history of the medium is essential.

How do you envision landscape architecture progressing in the future?

No one knows the answer to that question. The future is usually a certain extension of the present; in that way, a lot about the future is already here.
What’s certain is that we have a global environmental crisis, about water, air quality, loss of habitat. And it’s happening everywhere, especially in less wealthy nations. Population growth is exacerbating the issue.
These things lead to inevitable conflict, within and between societies, that are happening already. They also lead to extreme, unsustainable types of growth in cities. Right now, in China alone, there are over a dozen cities each larger than New York. People in those kinds of situation are now living in environments that don’t resemble traditional cities at all, that don’t provide for the functions that humans have required for generations.
The question of the present and future is what kind of people will those growing up in such environments be like? I think landscape architecture is a discipline that is and will continue to address those questions.

U.S. Embassy: studio amd

Read it in full

Friday, June 3, 2011

Pictures from the Venice Biennale

At the Palazzo Grassi: Loris Gréaud's haunting creation, Gunpowder Forest Bubble
Mark Nelson installation at the British pavillion
Joana Vasconcelos's colourful work fills the atrium at the Palazzo Grassi. Entitled Contamination, it aims to echo the exhibition's focus on positive relationships between cultures
A column of smoke snakes heavenwards in Anish Kapoor's installation, Ascension. It's the first time the Basilica di San Giorgio in Venice has been used as the setting for a contemporary art piece
Jan Fabre's provocative sculpture depicts a skeletal Madonna holding a dead Christ. Entitled Sogno Compassionevole, it is part of the artist's Pietas exhibition
All pictures and texts from:

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Cocktail Napkin Sketch Contest 2011. CALL FOR ENTRIES

Drawing by Jim Dawkins

From Architectural Record Construction:
If you are a licensed architect or related professional who practices in the United States, you can enter this remarkable contest. All you need is a white cocktail napkin and pen to demonstrate that the art of the sketch is still alive. Two grand prize winning submissions will be published in the October issue of Architectural Record and winners will receive a box of napkins with their sketch printed on it.
Grand prize winners will also receive a collection of pentel arts writing instruments valued at more than $200. Up to ten finalists receive a collection valued at more than $100. Winners and finalists will be seen in our online Cocktail Napkin Sketch Gallery.
Deadline is July 21, 2011
2010 Winner drawing of a gate from a Japanese garden by Truc Dang Manh Nguyen, an architect from Piedmont, California. 

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

The urban form of catastrophe


This is not an abstract picture. From msn.com: Houses and farmland in Vicksburg, Miss., remain submerged by flooding on May 23. Mississippi River floodwaters are gradually receding, but are likely to remain above flood stage for weeks. Heavy rains have left the rivers swollen and caused widespread flooding throughout the Southeast. 
And the next one, a destroyed apartment complex is seen on May 24 in an aerial view over Joplin, Mo. The town was hit by the deadliest single tornado recorded in the U.S. in more than six decades. MSN.com


At a certain moment, we should reflect on urban morphology, what´s the real shape of the city? Before we answer, let´s determine the historical context, the time when we run our fractal calculations. For the first picture, the fractal pattern -if there was one- lays below; for the second one, if it wasn´t a fractal pattern, now -probably- it is.




These three pictures above are from the USA navy/air force and show the aftermath of the Haiti earthquake in 2010.
The last one is showing the tents for survivors. I´m surprised the pattern looks more or less like the destroyed dwellings, I imagined the army should align the tents to keep order, specially when food and water has to be distributed, it wouldn´t be a labyrinth. I´ll find out about this....

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Una casa en el aire frente a la Casa Rosada como emblema de la crisis habitacional

Foto La Nación
No voy a opinar sobre este evento porque no conozco esta ONG, y tampoco sé acerca de los planes para adquirir estas viviendas. Reproduzco parte de esta nota de Mauricio Caminos para La Nación, por ser la falta de viviendas dignas una problemática importante, y no sólo en Argentina. Dejo el link para que los lectores vean la galería de fotos y lean la nota completa.
¨La Casa Rosada y la jefatura del gobierno porteño tienen desde ayer nuevos vecinos. Es que la ONG Un Techo para mi País Argentina (Utpmpa) instaló en el centro de la Plaza de Mayo una vivienda de madera a 12 metros de altura, réplica exacta de las que construye para familias que atraviesan necesidades habitacionales. La idea principal es llamar la atención sobre la precaria situación en la que viven miles de personas en la Argentina.
"El objetivo de la Casa en el Aire es concientizar y poner en agenda pública la emergencia habitacional que sufren miles de familias e invitar a toda la sociedad a sumarse para cambiar esta situación", detalló a La Nacion Agustín Algorta, director social nacional de Utpmpa.(...)
La Casa en el Aire también servirá como antesala a la próxima construcción de viviendas de emergencia que llevará a cabo Utpmpa en distintos asentamientos del conurbano bonaerense. Entre el 18 y el 20 de junio, se construirán 250 viviendas con la participación de unos 2500 voluntarios. Ayer se construyeron más de 30 viviendas en Salta y Río Cuarto, el próximo fin de semana se levantarán 50 casas en Córdoba y 20 en Misiones, y para diciembre esperan llegar a 2300 en todo el país.
Además, en la etapa de "Habilitación social", la sede de la Capital trabaja actualmente con vecinos de 25 asentamientos en planes de capacitación en oficios, microcréditos, salud y educación, entre otras temáticas. Para 2011 Utpmpa estima entregar 500 créditos y 600 diplomas en oficios.¨

Monday, May 30, 2011

Göbekli Tepe and the rising of civilization and cities

Pillars at Göbekli Tepe. From National Geographic.com
It´s important to remember that in his book ¨The city in history,¨ Lewis Mumford says that one of the reasons for the origin of cities is the human religious meetings, giving as an example a burial ceremony. Though, he doesn´t deny the theory of agriculture. The following excerpts from the article The Birth of Religion, about the temple of Göbekli Tepe, shows us that Mumford was not mistaken.
Göbekli Tepe animals carving. From ancient-wisdom.co.uk
Göbekli Tepe. From smithsonianmag.com

¨Known as Göbekli Tepe (pronounced Guh-behk-LEE TEH-peh), the site is vaguely reminiscent of Stonehenge, except that Göbekli Tepe was built much earlier and is made not from roughly hewn blocks but from cleanly carved limestone pillars splashed with bas-reliefs of animals—a cavalcade of gazelles, snakes, foxes, scorpions, and ferocious wild boars. The assemblage was built some 11,600 years ago, seven millennia before the Great Pyramid of Giza. It contains the oldest known temple. Indeed, Göbekli Tepe is the oldest known example of monumental architecture—the first structure human beings put together that was bigger and more complicated than a hut. When these pillars were erected, so far as we know, nothing of comparable scale existed in the world.
At the time of Göbekli Tepe's construction much of the human race lived in small nomadic bands that survived by foraging for plants and hunting wild animals. Construction of the site would have required more people coming together in one place than had likely occurred before. Amazingly, the temple's builders were able to cut, shape, and transport 16-ton stones hundreds of feet despite having no wheels or beasts of burden. The pilgrims who came to Göbekli Tepe lived in a world without writing, metal, or pottery; to those approaching the temple from below, its pillars must have loomed overhead like rigid giants, the animals on the stones shivering in the firelight—emissaries from a spiritual world that the human mind may have only begun to envision.
Archaeologists are still excavating Göbekli Tepe and debating its meaning. What they do know is that the site is the most significant in a volley of unexpected findings that have overturned earlier ideas about our species' deep past. Just 20 years ago most researchers believed they knew the time, place, and rough sequence of the Neolithic Revolution—the critical transition that resulted in the birth of agriculture, taking Homo sapiens from scattered groups of hunter-gatherers to farming villages and from there to technologically sophisticated societies with great temples and towers and kings and priests who directed the labor of their subjects and recorded their feats in written form. But in recent years multiple new discoveries, Göbekli Tepe preeminent among them, have begun forcing archaeologists to reconsider.
At first the Neolithic Revolution was viewed as a single event—a sudden flash of genius—that occurred in a single location, Mesopotamia, between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in what is now southern Iraq, then spread to India, Europe, and beyond. Most archaeologists believed this sudden blossoming of civilization was driven largely by environmental changes: a gradual warming as the Ice Age ended that allowed some people to begin cultivating plants and herding animals in abundance. The new research suggests that the "revolution" was actually carried out by many hands across a huge area and over thousands of years. And it may have been driven not by the environment but by something else entirely.(...)Most of the world's great religious centers, past and present, have been destinations for pilgrimages—think of the Vatican, Mecca, Jerusalem, Bodh Gaya (where Buddha was enlightened), or Cahokia (the enormous Native American complex near St. Louis). They are monuments for spiritual travelers, who often came great distances, to gawk at and be stirred by. Göbekli Tepe may be the first of all of them, the beginning of a pattern. What it suggests, at least to the archaeologists working there, is that the human sense of the sacred—and the human love of a good spectacle—may have given rise to civilization itself.(....)
As important as what the researchers found was what they did not find: any sign of habitation. Hundreds of people must have been required to carve and erect the pillars, but the site had no water source—the nearest stream was about three miles away. Those workers would have needed homes, but excavations have uncovered no sign of walls, hearths, or houses—no other buildings that Schmidt has interpreted as domestic. They would have had to be fed, but there is also no trace of agriculture. For that matter, Schmidt has found no mess kitchens or cooking fires. It was purely a ceremonial center. If anyone ever lived at this site, they were less its residents than its staff. To judge by the thousands of gazelle and aurochs bones found at the site, the workers seem to have been fed by constant shipments of game, brought from faraway hunts. All of this complex endeavor must have had organizers and overseers, but there is as yet no good evidence of a social hierarchy—no living area reserved for richer people, no tombs filled with elite goods, no sign of some people having better diets than others.(...)
—archaeologists had discovered settlements dating as far back as 13,000 B.C. Known as Natufian villages (the name comes from the first of these sites to be found), they sprang up across the Levant as the Ice Age was drawing to a close, ushering in a time when the region's climate became relatively warm and wet.The discovery of the Natufians was the first rock through the window of Childe's Neolithic Revolution. Childe had thought agriculture the necessary spark that led to villages and ignited civilization. Yet although the Natufians lived in permanent settlements of up to several hundred people, they were foragers, not farmers, hunting gazelles and gathering wild rye, barley, and wheat. (...)
And increasingly, archaeologists studying the origins of civilization in the Fertile Crescent are suspicious of any attempt to find a one-size-fits-all scenario, to single out one primary trigger. It is more as if the occupants of various archaeological sites were all playing with the building blocks of civilization, looking for combinations that worked. In one place agriculture may have been the foundation; in another, art and religion; and over there, population pressures or social organization and hierarchy. Eventually they all ended up in the same place. Perhaps there is no single path to civilization; instead it was arrived at by different means in different places.¨
3D rendering of Göbekli Tepe. From philipcoppens.com/
From National Geographic.com, article by Charles C. Mann
Read more about the temple:

Sunday, May 29, 2011

From the Burial of Rats (old Paris)

¨Leaving Paris by the Orleans road, cross the Enceinte, and, turning to the right, you find yourself in a somewhat wild and not at all savoury district. Right and left, before and behind, on every side rise great heaps of dust and waste accumulated by the process of time.
Paris has its night as well as its day life, and the sojourner who enters his hotel in the Rue de Rivoli or the Rue St. Honore late at night or leaves it early in the morning, can guess, in coming near Montrouge—if he has not done so already—the purpose of those great waggons that look like boilers on wheels which he finds halting everywhere as he passes.
Every city has its peculiar institutions created out of its own needs; and one of the most notable institutions of Paris is its rag-picking population. In the early morning—and Parisian life commences at an early hour—may be seen in most streets standing on the pathway opposite every court and alley and between every few houses, as still in some American cities, even in parts of New York, large wooden boxes into which the domestics or tenement-holders empty the accumulated dust of the past day. Round these boxes gather and pass on, when the work is done, to fresh fields of labour and pastures new, squalid hungry-looking men and women, the implements of whose craft consist of a coarse bag or basket slung over the shoulder and a little rake with which they turn over and probe and examine in the minutest manner the dustbins. They pick up and deposit in their baskets, by aid of their rakes, whatever they may find, with the same facility as a Chinaman uses his chopsticks.
Paris is a city of centralisation—and centralisation and classification are closely allied. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming a fact, its forerunner is classification. All things which are similar or analogous become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups rises one whole or central point. We see radiating many long arms with innumerable tentaculae, and in the centre rises a gigantic head with a comprehensive brain and keen eyes to look on every side and ears sensitive to hear—and a voracious mouth to swallow.
Other cities resemble all the birds and beasts and fishes whose appetites and digestions are normal. Paris alone is the analogical apotheosis of the octopus. Product of centralisation carried to an ad absurdum, it fairly represents the devil fish; and in no respects is the resemblance more curious than in the similarity of the digestive apparatus.
Those intelligent tourists who, having surrendered their individuality into the hands of Messrs. Cook or Gaze, 'do' Paris in three days, are often puzzled to know how it is that the dinner which in London would cost about six shillings, can be had for three francs in a café in the Palais Royal. They need have no more wonder if they will but consider the classification which is a theoretic speciality of Parisian life, and adopt all round the fact from which the chiffonier has his genesis.
The Paris of 1850 was not like the Paris of to-day, and those who see the Paris of Napoleon and Baron Hausseman can hardly realise the existence of the state of things forty-five years ago.
Amongst other things, however, which have not changed are those districts where the waste is gathered. Dust is dust all the world over, in every age, and the family likeness of dust-heaps is perfect. The traveller, therefore, who visits the environs of Montrouge can go go back in fancy without difficulty to the year 1850.¨


Paris - This engraving shows the French capital hemmed in by city walls, but instantly recognisable thanks to the Ile de la Cite, which straddles the Seine. The cartouche on the right describes the city as "most flourishing", boasting an "excellent university and a stupendous church of Notre Dame". From http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/picturegalleries/3776523/Cities-of-the-world.html?image=2
Paris´ rats at display. From http://sanditan.com/?p=118
From The Burial of Rats. By Bram Stoker. 1914
Read the full story/book:

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails