In light of the recent kickoff of Art BaselMiami, Marc Fornes / THEVERYMANY has shared its Labrys Frisae Pavilion, which was installed at Art Basel Miami from 2011 to 2014. Constructed from aluminum less than one millimeter thick, the installation sought to blur the distinction between edge and space through “an immersive, multisensorial experience.”
“The structure’s interior leads a visitor to lose their time as they peruse the curves and try to understand the space,” which changes as viewers move throughout, especially at night, when shadows emerge through the shell’s intricate perforation.
Labrys Frisae was a part of the “striped morphologies” collection by Fornes—“in this body of research, projects are described as stripes, nested on flat sheets of material and cut, then attached to one another with thousands of rivets, finding curvature as they are joined to the their neighbors. The design process is an exhaustive series of trials, errors, conclusions, and reboots, met by an assembly process that is meticulous and hands-on.”
In its completion, the installation is self-supporting, though it wraps around a central column that does not contribute to structural integrity.
Location: The Rotunda Space – 3252 NE 1st Avenue, Suite 101 – Miami, FL 33137, 2011-2014
Overall size: 28′-10″ x 29′-9″ x 17′-5″
Holes: 202, 290
Rivets: 101, 145
Total Parts: 10,322
Weight: 1642lbs / 744kg
Materials: 256 Sheets of Aluminum, 74 Nodes, 6 missing parts that had to be recut – 0.05% missing
From the architect. The site is located at Aoyama in Minato ward, which is an area residential and commercial uses are mixed in Tokyo. The client couple sought to build a housing complex on the back lot of a dead end street, and earn their livings by renting a part of it. The plan was to provide an office for rent on the basement floor and a part of the first floor. The residential space for the owner is allocated on the second and the third floor.
The facade is kept simple as office architecture. The reinforced concrete wall constructed with Japanese cedar boards for form, the louver made of hot-dip galvanizing with zinc phosphate coat, and the half-mirror glass are combined to give a refined expression. The office space on the basement floor is filled with diffused light through the areaway. The first floor with a huge glass window functions as a gallery open to the street in front.
The dog-leg staircase penetrates through the center of the building. The continuity from the entrance hall of the first floor to the penthouse allows the natural light to pour into the interior space through the stairwell. The symbol tree on the south courtyard may be viewed from the main bedroom and the guest room on the second floor. This makes it possible to have a contact with the nature while staying in the city. The living room and the kitchen on the west, and the dining area with a library on the east of the second floor are placed continuously in an open space, so the family can feel each others’ presence and enjoy the rhythm of everyday life. The space is loosely divided by the structural wall along the staircase in the center. This gives the flow to the space, and creates an intimate relationship while keeping a moderate distance. The rooftop, covered with wood deck, offers a panoramic view of the neighborhood. It serves as an outdoor living room where the family can enjoy BBQ and other activities.
Project Designer: Camilla Cok, AIA; Ian Gelbrich, AIA
Project Manager: Ian Gelbrich, AIA
Interior Designer: Elyse Iverson, NCIDQ
Structural/Civil Engineer: Nishkian Dean
Mep/Fp Engineer: Interface Engineering
Landscape Architect: Otten Landscape
Contractor: Bremik Construction, Inc
Civil: KPFF Consulting Engineers
From the architect. In its simplest form, a fire station comprises little more than a dwelling with an oversized garage. At its most complex, it embodies the values of its community and functions as a highly technical machine for emergency response. That understanding, infused with aspects of storytelling and context, inspired our design effort.
Presiding over patterned fields and the Cascade mountains, Fire Station 76 serves a community of family farms and nurseries. The evident beauty of the rural environment suffused with quietly formed agricultural buildings, textured with materials of simplicity and practicality–primarily wood and metal, provided inspiration for the building concept.
The functional focus of the station: fire – an element of both beauty and destruction – guided the treatment of materials. Using reclaimed timber from a nearby barn, the design included charring the wood surface with the traditional Japanese technique, Shou Sugi Ban. In effect, the burn provides protection from rot, decay, and insects, and turns the destructive manner of fire into an image of beauty.
The station divides into two masses: a vaulted apparatus bay clad with metal and low-lying living quarters wrapped in wood. The apparatus bay glulam Tudor arches spanned by tongue and groove cedar decking vault over the engines, celebrating their strength and precision. Clad in a dark board and batten reclaimed and charred siding, the living quarters rotates to face the mountains, providing sanctuary, while the lightly-colored metal clad apparatus bay orients towards the road, presenting the most recognizable feature of a fire station–the engines, to the public. Warm Western red cedar clad porches carve into the living quarters structure, sheltering exterior spaces from wind, and providing a rich comparison for the adjacent charred wood. The cedar continues to the building interior, surrounding the primary gathering spaces of the living quarters, blending inside with outside. Daylight fills the spaces, highlighting the warm wood tones.
The station embraces fire, turning it into a feature of protection and beauty; provides a legacy for the rural community, reflecting its context in both massing and materials; and honors engines as technical machines for emergency response.
From the architect. The archeologic research center of Archeodunum includes storage rooms and researcher’s offices. The project is composed of two volumes, one concerning the excavations storage with a maximum height of 3.9 meters, the other including the offices, with a height of 3.2 meters.
The overlap between the two volumes comes to create a large cloister. The facades that look into the cloister are completely glazed with sliding doors. An ornamental pond contributes to the visual comfort of the interior spaces and refreshes them during summer time.
All the project is made of light materials (steels, glass and polycarbonate). From the street, a wall is made of ancient Roman amphoras, collected during the excavations of the archeologists.
In May last year, the Rolex Mentors & Protégés initiative announced a surprising partnership in its name: Paraguayan architect Gloria Gabral was to spend a year working alongside the famously elusive Swiss master Peter Zumthor. The differences between the two architects – from the languages they spoke to the age of their respective careers – were obvious from the outset. But as explored in this article by Paul Clemence, originally published by Metropolis Magazine as “Intuitive Connection,” over the past year they’ve been discovering that the things that they have in common run far deeper.
It was an unlikely pair. He is a well-established architect with a long career, working out of a small town tucked deep in the mountainous Graubünden canton in Switzerland; she is at the beginning of a promising career in Asunción, Paraguay’s capital and largest city. They did not even share a common language, yet they connected through something more binding than the spoken word: an intuitive sense of space—and their work ethic.
Neither Zumthor nor Cabral sees the need to have a website, and both believe in the social responsibility of architecture and rely on indigenous craftsmanship for their projects. In a time when the architectural profession seems to be overtaken by corporate business mantras, Zumthor and Cabral are more interested in taking time to mature a design and execute it. Theirs is an old-fashioned way of being an architect.
As a teacher herself, Cabral knew that a successful learning experience depended heavily on the receptiveness of the one being taught, so she embarked on her menteeship wholeheartedly, absorbing as much as she could while working on a tea chapel in South Korea being developed by Zumthor’s office. The Tea Chapel aims to transcend the particulars of culture and religion by creating instead a place that is inspired by their common belief in ritual, and will be part of the Shrine of Our Lady of the Rosary of Namyang, which will include works by other architects (the main cathedral is being designed by Mario Botta).
Cabral says she found some similarities between Zumthor’s process and how things are done in her office, such as the collaborative initial conversations about the direction of the project, but she also noted an important difference: “From the detailing, to the time dedicated to different parts of the project development, to the clarity of the concept,” she says, “there was a precision in how things were done.” She would like to incorporate this into her work, although implementing these standards and work modes in her hometown might require some difficult adjustments.
But then, Cabral believes that a good teacher and mentor is someone who not only provides academic knowledge but also “guides and inspires us to do what we might not even know could be done.”