NYC CASINO/CONVENTION CENTER DESIGN COMPETITION

Montage of NYC images. Wikipedia.org

Recently, New York’s state government has been trying to legalize non-Indian casinos throughout the state. Current proposals are asking for the construction of seven “Vegas”-sized casinos throughout New York. Although lawmakers have pushed to keep the casinos out of New York City, this ideas competition aims to investigate what a casino would do to New York City and, likewise, what New York City would do to a casino. The New York casinos are being pitched by their supporters as “regional revitalization” tools. Although Manhattan is arguably in no need of revitalization, it does have one clear zone that could use rethinking—Hudson Yards and the area around its neighboring convention center. The existing Jacob Javits Center remains an isolated structure surrounded by a no-man’s-land of parking and train tracks. Cut off from restaurants, hotels, and entertainment, it is hardly an inviting location for a large convention, nor does it allow for or engender connection to the city at-large. You might as well have your convention in Secaucus. There is talk of relocating the Center to Queens, to be sited next to the recently opened “racino” at Aqueduct Racetrack—a major financial success thus far, and example of the excitement people in the five boroughs have for gambling. The proposed convention center would be the largest in the United States. This competition asks entrants to leave the convention center at its current location on Manhattan’s West Side, but replace it and add a hotel and casino to the complex. Entrants are asked to rethink this zone so as to create a dynamic destination in the city for tourists, residents, and convention-goers alike. At the same time, the complex should become a draw for non convention-goers. If a Vegas-style themed casino clearly wouldn’t work in New York City, then what would bring New Yorkers out to gamble? Is it a family focused zone for tourists or an adults-only retreat? The proposed building should incorporate state-of-the-art facilities for both modern gambling and high-tech conventions. The convention center should be unique while remaining flexible, and the casino should shake off both cheesy Vegas aethetics and the dry desperation of Atlantic City to strive for something architecturally rich and complex—while simultaneously entertaining. The complex should also find a way to reconnect to Manhattan’s nearby entertainment districts. Madison Square Garden, Times Square, and the High Line seem cut off, despite their proximity. This complex should aim to recharge its surroundings in the same way the High Line did the Meatpacking District, bringing in pedestrians and cleaning up the area. On the western, waters edge of Manhattan, the site also includes a large pier that can be used for a portion of the program or turned into outdoor parks and recreation areas. The site includes the land the current convention center lies on, the space over the West Side Yard train yard, and the aforementioned waterfront pier. The West Side Yard was designed to accommodate an overbuild in its air rights, and space was left between the tracks for columns to support a platform above the tracks. The history of proposals for the very same site includes the ongoing Hudson Yards Redevelopment and the IFCCA “Competition for Manhattan’s West Side.”

REGISTRATION DEADLINE: MONDAY, AUGUST 13, 2012.SUBMISSION DEADLINE: MONDAY, AUGUST 13, 2012.

http://blog.archpaper.com/wordpress/archives/competitions/nyc-casinoconvention-center-design-competition 

Some prints by Giovanni B. Piranesi

Giovanni Battista (also Giambattista) Piranesi (4 October 1720 – 9 November 1778) was an Italian artist famous for his etchings of Rome and of fictitious and atmospheric "prisons" (Carceri d'Invenzione).(....) The remains of Rome kindled Piranesi's enthusiasm. He was able to faithfully imitate the actual remains of a fabric; his invention in catching the design of the original architect provided the missing parts; his masterful skill at engraving introduced groups of vases, altars, tombs that were absent in reality; and his broad and scientific distribution of light and shade completed the picture, creating a striking effect from the whole view. Some of his later work was completed by his children and several pupils. Piranesi's son and coadjutor, Francesco, collected and preserved his plates, in which the freer lines of the etching-needle largely supplemented the severity of burin work. Twenty-nine folio volumes containing about 2000 prints appeared in Paris (1835–1837). The late Baroque works of Claude Lorrain, Salvatore Rosa, and others had featured romantic and fantastic depictions of ruins; in part as a memento mori or as a reminiscence of a golden age of construction. Piranesi's reproductions of real and recreated Roman ruins were a strong influence on Neoclassicism.

REFERENCE:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Battista_Piranesi

In his stunning series of prints called Imaginary Prisons, 18th-century Italian artist Giovanni Battista Piranesi created haunting, expressive, and entirely fantastical architectural scenes. The large-scale etchings and engravings—with their cavernous, gloomy chambers and labyrinthine corridors and staircases filled with unreal machines, enormous chains, and contorted prisoners—allow for an investigation of the line between architectural observation and the imagination. Prints from Piranesi’s series Views of Rome likewise demonstrate his tremendous skill at rendering perspective and creating complex compositional environments. Even in views of known locations in Rome, Piranesi frequently elaborated, exaggerated, and added imaginary devices or dramatic figural vignettes. Additional works by Piranesi and by his contemporaries and followers reveal the broad context of his career and his legacy. A selection of dramatic photographs by Clyde Hare of Pittsburgh’s Allegheny County Courthouse, designed by renowned architect Henry Hobson Richardson, offer a striking parallel to Piranesi’s fantastic designs. It is just one local example of Piranesi’s continued relevance to a wide range of artists and practicing architects through the generations.

REFERENCE: Carnegie Museum of Art

http://web.cmoa.org/?page_id=391

The collapse of the tower in the movie "Ironclad"

Rochester Castle. A shot of the movie Ironclad. Google images

Yesterday I've watched the epic movie "Ironclad". I love epic movies showing the architecture of medieval times, and I'm not going to write a review, you can find many on line.

I was particularly impressed by the collapse of the castle of Rochester's tower and the way the king's soldier did it. Pigs are brought to the cellar (they say foundation), below the tower, and they are burnt alive. Why pigs? Because their fat keeps the fire burning.

The raised floor is collapsed and in consequence, the tower. I took some screen shots from my  computer to show the interesting effect:

And here, I'm sharing two pictures from the movie's blog, showing the construction of the castle.

Paris, in the words of Bram Stoker

Old map of Paris. From http://www.swaen.com/antique-map-of.php?id=2190

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.(...) 

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.

Old map of Paris. Google images

1900 map of Paris. From http://gisdk.blogspot.com/2009/04/map-of-week-paris-circa1900.html..

Old map of Paris. From http://jqneo1983.bol.ucla.edu/

From The Burial of Rats. Bram Stoker, 1914

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Burial_of_the_Rats

An experience in Chichen Itza

Photo by Joe Mendel

I've been reading Michael J. Crosbie's experience in Chichen Itza and I can imagine his feelings, though, being born in Buenos Aires, a big city, I'm accustomed to vendors and people bothering us in trains, buses, while walking, children asking for money everywhere in the heart of the City. But it's even worst when you are trying to concentrate on the sacredness of a mystical place.

Michael Crosbie is the Editor of the architectural magazine Faith and Form. Here, his words:

I remember it being a very hot day. I had traveled with friends and colleagues this past April on a pilgrimage to the ruins of Chichen Itza, Mexico, one of the places on my architect's bucket list. Now I stood at the threshold of this monumental site, ready to sacrifice myself to the heat (and the occasional iguana) to learn some deep, sacred truth. The anticipation of this adventure, which was organized by the Forum for Architecture, Culture and Spirituality, was almost too much to bear. How would we receive these incredible religious ruins? What secrets would they admit to us as we wandered among them, immediately and over our next few days in their presence? What spiritual transcendence could we hope for, experiencing these mute stone structures of an ancient civilization, one whose primary traces were the mysterious, sacred buildings they left behind? And then it all went…terribly wrong. As I drew closer to the ruins, making my way through a densely forested pathway, I was approached by a child, imploring, “Want to buy a handkerchief, mister? One peso, almost free!” A bit farther on, as I strained to see on my right the outline of the El Castillo–that dramatic flight of steps to the heavens–an alarming growl rose from just off to my left, the sound of a wounded, angry animal of the jungle. Was I about to be consumed before consummating my tryst with these sacred stones? No. It was just another vendor, his long table spread out with souvenirs, blowing into the carved wooden head of a jaguar, the cat that used to rule these ruins. Another vendor next to him hawked tee-shirts, and another beyond offered onyx paperweights carved in the likeness of a portion of the male anatomy, detailed in every way. And there was another vendor, and another, and another, as far as the eye could see. But I still hadn't seen a blasted ruin! We arrive at pivotal sacred sites around the world, our spirits ready to be lifted into communion with ancient truths, to dive into the deepest pools of transcendence, and someone is trying to sell us gee-gaws. Or we turn a corner in Paris, ready to be floored by the aura of Notre Dame, and it is covered with scaffolding. Or it is just closed for the day…no explanation at all. What is the pilgrim to do? The next day in Chichen Itza, we came early. Really early–the ticket sellers hadn't even yet arrived in their booths as we milled around, counting out exact change. I rushed with my ticket down the pathway, not a soul in sight. For a while, maybe only 15 minutes, it was just me and El Castillo, this mysterious mountain of stone that refused to tell me anything. I sketched in peace and scribbled notes. I then walked to the epic ball court nearby, with its rings of stone protruding as witnesses to the ghosts of gamesmen who might hope eternally in vain for the ultimate “do over.” I sat against a wall, the humidity beginning to rise, and looked for a long time at the two facing ball-court walls, silent in their secrets. More notes, more sketches. I was grateful for the silence.

http://faithandform.com/editorial/archive/45-2.php

El edificio como obra maestra

Ópera Estatal de Dresde. Imagen bajada del artículo de referencia

Estuve leyendo la ponencia de Ricardo Ibarlucía en el coloquio ¨Configuraciones de Vida¨, de la Universidad Nacional de San Martín, y lo recomiendo altamente, sólo reproduciré los párrafos que hablan de la obra de arquitectura como obra maestra y dejo el link para que lo lean por completo:

¨Las obras maestras desempeñarían un papel vital en el entramado de convicciones, certezas y saberes prácticos que participan de nuestra visión del mundo. En efecto, los seres humanos no sólo se dejan tocar emocionalmente por las creaciones artísticas; circunscribir los procesos cognitivos a la ciencia, reduciendo el arte a la percepción, a la emoción y a las facultades no lógicas, ha sido quizá la herencia más nociva de la estética tradicional. El arte tiene tanto que ver con el placer como con el conocimiento: no es el pasatiempo de un público pasivo, que suele oponerse a la ciencia como un conocimiento fundado en demostraciones y experimentos. Como ha indicado Nelson Goodman, el filósofo que con mayor énfasis ha rechazado esta confusión: "Llegar a comprender una pintura o una sinfonía en un estilo que no es familiar, a reconocer el trabajo de un artista o de una escuela, a ver o escuchar de maneras nuevas, constituye un desarrollo cognitivo semejante a aprender a leer, a escribir o a sumar".

Las obras maestras, como cualquier obra de arte, funcionan como tales en la medida en que participan en nuestra manera de ver, sentir, percibir, concebir y comprender en general. "Un edificio -señala Goodman-, más que la mayoría de las obras, altera nuestro entorno físico; pero además, como obra de arte puede, a través de diversas vías de significación, informar y reorganizar nuestra experiencia entera. Al igual que otras obras de arte -y al igual que las teorías científicas, también- puede dar una nueva visión, fomentar la comprensión, participar en nuestro continuo rehacer el mundo." Podríamos ilustrar esto con la historia de la ópera estatal de Dresde, en la Theaterplatz, construida en 1876 por Gottfried Semper. Durante la noche del 13 de febrero de 1945, la Semperoper quedó reducida a escombros por las bombas de la RAF, como casi todo el casco histórico de la ciudad. En 1977, sin contar con respaldo financiero del gobierno de la República Democrática Alemana, que por otro lado había demolido el Schloss de Berlín, a cien kilómetros de allí, los ciudadanos emprendieron lentamente su reconstrucción, pieza por pieza, moldura por moldura, a partir de los planos originales descubiertos en un altillo. Una pintora y varios artistas, albañiles y cientos de colaboradores espontáneos trabajaron durante ocho años en la restauración del edificio, filmada por un equipo de tres documentalistas aficionados.

¿Qué pudo empujar a estos hombres y mujeres, algunos de los cuales habían sufrido cuando chicos los bombardeos, el hambre y las miserias de la guerra, la pérdida de seres queridos y la privación de las libertades políticas, a reconstruir una ópera a la que probablemente no hubieran ido nunca de haberse mantenido las condiciones económicas y sociales que permitieron su edificación en la segunda mitad del siglo XIX? La reconstrucción de la Semperoper, contra la voluntad de un régimen que la execraba como monumento de la burguesía, les permitió no sólo recuperar un edificio que había sido orgullo de Dresde, devolviendo a la ciudad sajona su antigua belleza y esplendor, sino también rehacer su mundo, reconfigurar su experiencia individual y colectiva, comprendiendo los horrores del pasado y resignificándolos para proyectarse en el porvenir. La reconstrucción de aquella obra maestra fue la obra de sus vidas.¨

Lea el artículo de Ibarlucía ¿Para qué necesitamos las obras maestras?

http://www.lanacion.com.ar/1483436-para-que-necesitamos-las-obras-maestras

Would a congregation hire an artist who wasn't of the same faith?

Dome of a catholic church with painted saints. Domo de una iglesia católica con santos pintados. Digital painting by Myriam B. Mahiques

I've seen this discussion before and I know in  history many artists, mostly in painting, could accomplish great jobs even being pagans. From the Editorial of Faith and Form, an excerpt from Michael J. Crosbie to make us reflect on this issue: 

The other day, in the Faith & Form LinkedIn discussion group, a group member brought up the topic of the fealty of those who work with congregations on architecture and art projects. He wanted to know if he might not be considered for a stained-glass commission if the congregation knew he was a Mormon (assuming the congregation wasn't Mormon). An artist who is a Mormon adds another component to the issue, because some denominations don't consider Mormons to be Christians. There are at least two issues here: Would a congregation hire a stained-glass artist who wasn't of the same faith?; would the congregation hire someone they considered some sort of pagan? The first question deals with whether the artist can truly understand the theology of a religion that he or she is not a part of, at least well enough to create art that embodies the beliefs of that religion. The second issue is one of worthiness: should a congregation give work to a “non-believer” when there might be believers who could accomplish the work? In other words, should you reward a non-believer with a commission? Or, to put it another way, is it OK with God? A member of our group commented that you don't have to be a believer to be a talented architect or artist: “Probably the greatest church architect of the 20th century, Bertram Goodhue, was a committed agnostic, if that's not an oxymoron.” Another pointed out that Henri Matisse's Chapel of the Rosary for a community of Dominican nuns in Vence, France, was the achievement of a lapsed Catholic who designed the architecture, art, and everything in it, and then pronounced it his greatest masterpiece. Another member who joined the discussion said that an architect or a designer's religion doesn't matter to her: “Their job is to interpret my building dreams.”

Henri Matisse. Interior of the Chapel of the Rosary, Vence. At left: The Tree of Life, stained glass. At right: St. Dominic, ceramic tiles. 1950. From http://www.abcgallery.com/M/matisse/matisse126.html

Henri Matisse. Interior of the Chapel of the Rosary, Vence. Stained glass at the entrance door. From http://idlespeculations-terryprest.blogspot.com/

California Tower, Balboa Park: by Goodhue in Spanish Colonial Revival style for the Panama–California Exposition (1915). Wikipedia.org

Read the article in full:

http://faithandform.com/editorial/archive/44-4.php

The urban transformation of Sulukule was declared "not of public interest"

Sulukule was declared a target area for “urban transformation” by the Turkish cabinet in 2006. Six years, four lawsuits, and many evictions later, an Istanbul court has finally declared the project not to be in the public interest, reports Turkish independent media center Bianet. In the meantime, however, irreparable demolition and damage has occurred to the area and its residents. “Social ostracization, gentrification and urban profiteering” Turkey’s Housing Development Administration (TOKİ) began construction in Sulukule in May 2009. Since then, large areas of the old neighborhood buildings have been demolished to make way for 640 villas. The new houses have all sold out at prices far beyond what a typical Roma family can afford. At most, 50 Roma families would be able to stay in the neighborhood. TOKİ promised the displaced Roma families new housing in a neighborhood much farther from the city center. But some 300 of those families had difficulty making their payments to TOKİ on time, and have been forced out of those houses as well. The whole project has been condemned by Turkish and international civil society groups and termed a ”social ostracization, gentrification and urban profiteering” scheme by the World Heritage Committee. Now, thanks to the court’s verdict, a new plan will have to be devised: one that accommodates the Roma and doesn’t ruin the historical skyline.

Keep on reading:

http://www.greenprophet.com/2012/06/court-annuls-almost-finished-development-project-in-roma-neighborhood-in-istanbul/

Learn more about this situation:

http://www.ekumenopolis.net/#/tr_TR