2.5.11

16 - Nunotani Office Building by Peter Eisenman



In 1992, Eisenman completed this project for the Nunotani Corporation in Japan. The somewhat 'deconstructed' building surfaces shift and sag as a literal expression of tectonic instability. Unlike the tower in Pisa, the effect is an entirely artificial composition and the structure is quite stable, as one would hope. There seems to be a desire to capture the drama of instability, as though inhabiting the building is to be a reminder the precarious seismic conditions one faces by living in Japan as a whole. As is common within Eisenman's work, much rigor and expense has gone into a rather superficial expressionism.

The particulars of the primitive aren't important, though it clearly follows a modernist vernacular. Thin curtain walls are shown drifting below floorplates. Glazing drifts below the ground plane. Although there's no glazing on the rear facade, 'surfaces' painted in hues of pink appear to have settle about one another crookedly. In order to play with tectonics, Eisenman has to speed up time in a sense - to exaggerate that which must happen slowly, in order to maintain adequate stability.

Image Source: Zhulong

15 - The Leaning Tower of Pisa



Built in three stages across 194 years starting in 1173 by various builders and masons, the tower of Pisa is a peculiar case where a struggle against natural ground tectonics over a long period of time has yielded unique morphology. The design of the tower, regardless of tilt, is worthy of investigation. Romanesque loggia stack on top of one another into the air with a striking lack of regard to the scale of the man on the ground (see my thoughts on neo-classical skyscrapers in Lower Manhattan in post 04). Classical instances of ascending loggia tend to lighten as they rise on top of one another, but the tower of Pisa features 6 similar loggia that precariously stack upward. This is made all the more precarious by the tilt which is caused by the tower settling into soft soil. This settling was even occurring between the original construction phases. Builders in 1272 actually compensated for the initial degree of settling after the first phase, causing the tower itself to be curved slightly. So on one hand, the entire tower leans at a rather noticeable 4 degrees, but the form of the tower curves slightly back upward.

The effect, while unintended, is quite sublime. Engineers of late have made efforts to stabilize the tower, most notably in the 1990s. The intent is not to remove the tilt - only to stabilize it, since the tilt has a value of its own. Modern building practices make these 'unintended' deformations infrequent.

Image Source: Wikipedia

14 - "De Beers Ginza" by Jun Mitsui & Associates



This new building for international diamond magnates De Beers was built in Tokyo's Ginza district a few years by Japanese architects Jun Mitsui and Associates. Beginning with a primitive form resembling a typical contemporary modern skyscraper with a high percentage of clear glazing over its facade and strong vertical lines, the building form is subjected to a sort of 'soft' deformation. According to the architect, the form is partly "inspired by the beauty of the female outline". The reflective materials also create some shimmering effects in the sunlight.

While this is another building that's based on a common primitive form and anthropomorphized, it manages to do so with a minimalist sensibility. The effect is achieved with a fairly simple wave deformation. With contemporary parametric modeling softwares, this isn't particularly difficult to design and execute, thus making it applicable to the more vulgar tiers of commercial architecture.

Source: ArchDaily

13 - The Spork



The spork, with versions first having been patented in the late 19th century, is an early entry into the now well-cultivated field of hybrid cutlery. Elegantly simple, and humorous at the same time, the spork (or foon, if you prefer) is an ideal example of a hybrid form: the two ubiquitous primitive forms of the spoon and fork joined together. One may wonder, as man has transcended the age of modernism, of technology's refinement of life, why hasn't the spork replaced the unwieldy spoon-and-fork duo? Well, for one, there's nothing unwieldy about two or three pieces of cutlery at a place setting, and more importantly, the spork doesn't function quite as well as a spoon or fork for many of their respective applications (liquids or meats, for instance).

Is there value in hybrid form? Perhaps in certain situations. The lesson is that hybrid form (in design) ought to be met with a degree of skepticism. One must ask the question, 'Is the hybrid better than the constituent forms in any particular way?' Does a gain in basic material efficiency outweigh other functional compromises?

Image Source: Dimensions Guide