Wakanda

Image source: https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Golden_City?file=Wakandan_City.png

Sadly, we lost the talented actor Chadwick Boseman on Friday following his protracted fight with colon cancer (doctors diagnosed the cancer back in 2016 but Boseman never spoke publicly about his illness). He achieved critical acclaim in several roles, notably portraying baseball pioneer Jackie Robinson in the film 42; however, his fans are likely to remember him first for starring as the Marvel Comics character T’Challa, aka the Black Panther. The 2018 film Black Panther was a box office smash, with Boseman becoming an inspirational cultural hero to many people of color.

I have not yet watched Black Panther, but I will do so this evening (ABC is airing the movie at 8:00 PM Pacific Time). Besides the opportunity to see and honor Chadwick Boseman, I will also enjoy being immersed in the imagined world of Wakanda, the fictional African country in which the movie is set. When the film debuted in 2018, many architects and urbanists praised the detailed integration of African cultural references and aesthetics within a utopian and futuristic depiction of the Wakandan capital of Birnin Zana, also known as The Golden City.

When I take the movie in, I’ll credit the vividness of the imaginary metropolis to the movie’s director, Ryan Coogler, and its Academy Award-winning production designer, Hannah Beachler. Critics have compared the fruit of their cinematic labors to other absorbing (albeit dystopian) visions of urban life, most notably Metropolis (1927), Blade Runner (1982), and Brazil (1985). Groundbreaking in their time, these efforts are notable because of their coupling of believability within the stories they told with high production values and virtuoso art direction.

I’ll reserve judgment of Black Panther until after viewing it. That said, based on reviews and the buzz that accompanied the movie, I expect to find it enjoyable and enthralling. Some of the comments by the architectural and urbanist press at the time of the movie’s release in 2018 were especially intriguing; here’s a sampling:

Curbed.com:

“In fact, Wakanda’s capital of Birnin Zana, is like no other city of the future depicted on screen: It’s lush, textural, and tactical, with a rich variety of architectural styles, building densities, and transportation systems, envisioned by production designer Hannah Beachler.

“But instead of the typical tropes seen in cinematic cities of the future—sleek glass towers of uniform height—Wakanda shows not a master-planned, top-down metropolis but a type of grassroots urbanism where the residents have customized their structures and their communities to fit their needs.

“There was also great praise for human-scale streets, walkable urbanism, and a rapid transit system that closely resembles a hyperloop—or maybe a mag-lev train.”

Brent Toderian:

"Probably no movie has been more discussed in the context of utopian or dystopian city-making than 1982's Blade Runner. It’s still being discussed decades later. Blade Runner wasn’t a positive vision of Los Angeles, but it was an interesting vision. It was a cautionary tale, but also a fun conversation starter. I think Black Panther's Wakanda can be that new conversation.

 

There’s density in Wakanda, but it doesn't seem oppressive. I immediately saw urbanism at all scales. I saw tall towers, I saw midrise towers, and I saw human-scale urbanism. It looks like regional architecture as opposed to this anywhere-ness that we seem to have in our global architecture these days. I saw architectural expression that was not only organic, but of its place and of its culture.”

Architectural Digest:

“Wakanda is not full of the sleek modern glass buildings audiences have come to expect when they imagine the future. Instead, it has a variety of architectural styles, many heavily inspired by traditional African architecture, but it also incorporates modern urban technology seamlessly. This is what makes the place, from the buildings to the transportation systems, so appealing (and surprising) to viewers.”

Jenn Fujikawa:

“What separates Wakanda from other places in the Marvel Universe is the fact that while it’s the most technically advanced civilization it has a strong history of culture as its foundation. As Moore explained, “So imagine a place that still has standing monuments that are centuries old, next to the most modern skyscrapers in the world. In the same way, they haven’t lost a lot of their cultural touchstones that other places have. They still worship, potentially the same gods they did when they first started. They still have rituals that are centuries old because they never had that sort of cultural imperialism that you’ve seen across the world. So it’s a place that really sits between being technologically advanced but also having a high value on their traditions.”

 

“Finding the value in traditional architecture but shaping it with a futuristic slant was the running vein for creating the world of “Black Panther.” “It was important for us to keep that tradition, because we wanted to honor and have reverence for the continent,” said Beachler, “and bring it to the screen in a way that you haven’t seen before, as being a prosperous place.”

*      *      *      *      *      *

Our cities reflect who we are as people and as a society, and our buildings are the physical manifestation of our culture. It’s natural for us to be hopeful when presented with lavishly optimistic and utopian visions. When these visions are particularly compelling and revelatory, we have something to learn from them. For me, it’s enough that Black Panther’s at-once both futuristic and traditional Wakanda has prompted serious discussions about the nature of our real-world cities and the culture and technology that shape them. A good movie prompts us to think about and reconsider the status quo, while simultaneously stimulating and entertaining us. This is the power of art. 

Melancholy

Melancholy of a Beautiful Day, by Giorgio de Chirico (1913)

My fear of potentially contracting the SARS-CoV-2 virus—fueled by unremitting media coverage of the pandemic and my own paranoia—is taking a toll, though it isn’t yet debilitating. Many would consider my overwrought concern to be unwarranted given the low numbers of COVID-19 cases here in Lane County, and I can’t entirely disagree. Still, an unwelcome and unhealthy level of visceral anxiety buzzes persistently under my skin. 

During a recent Zoom meeting, I tried to articulate the nature of my unease and realized how much it is tinged by a melancholy having little to do with the virus. This melancholy is not symptomatic of clinical depression nor does it reflect undue concern about the long-term prospects for my office(1); instead, it is equal parts a product of everything happening in the world today and also a reckoning of what I should consider important personally and professionally. Isolation does promote a measure of detachment and self-reflection. Where should I direct my attention during the time I have left? 

The late Aldo Rossi, a Pritzker Prize laureate (1990), imbued his architecture and his observations of the city with a sense of “immense sadness and the weight of history.” This translated to his belief that cities and buildings fundamentally serve as the collective memory of its people. In Rossi’s words, the city is the locus of the collective memory and that memory becomes the guiding thread of the entire, complex urban structure. Ideologically, Rossi was a post-modernist. Contrary to the “form follows function” tenet of the modernists, he asserted the autonomy of architecture wherein its meaning inhered in its irreducible, universal, typological forms. Thus, buildings are “towers” or “arcades” or “basilicas” rather than the uses to which they are put. The typologies of the forms are independent and constant and not entirely shaped by the functions people assign to them. 

For Rossi, the key was studying the city as an aggregation of monuments constructed over time. He strove to create structures immune to obsolescence—in effect, timeless architecture. The impetus of elemental typologies compelled Rossi to create drawings and design his buildings in a brooding, enigmatic manner reminiscent of the metaphysical art of Giorgio de Chirico. Common to Rossi’s architecture and de Chirico’s paintings are an overwhelming sense of melancholy born of memories one has but cannot entirely recall. Rossi’s 1979 Teatro del Mondo is a particularly evocative example of his work and this effect.(2) The building is hauntingly familiar and dreamlike. You’ve seen it before, but where and when? 

The Teatro del Mondo by Aldo Rossi (1979) (Photo attribution: CC BY-SA 3.0, https://it.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3851609)

Architecture shouldn’t easily be lost to time. Rossi believed buildings and the cities of which they are a part should provide an order of things that allows us to experience the present as a suspended moment in the passage from the past to the future. 

“Time flies” and “life is short” are clichés but both seem increasingly true to me with each passing year. I’m no spring chicken anymore and my time is finite. Chasing immortality isn’t an option (yet). Accumulating memories but also moments where I am fully present and living life meaningfully are important. With age comes the ability to reflect but it has also afforded me perspective and, I hope, a measure of wisdom. If Aldo Rossi were here to speak today, he might advise me to refine my appreciation for the power of memories to shape the future. This means working toward architecture that is timeless rather than fleeting, selfless as opposed to ego-driven. Unfortunately, the exigencies of 21^st century development, design, and construction do not often lend themselves to the creation of enduring, ego-less architecture.  

There is a wistful sweetness to my melancholy. In my mind it is colored by sepia-toned and softly lit memories. I acknowledge my own impermanence—saddened by it and that of everyone I know and have known—but also appreciative of the passage of time and the imperative of being as observant a witness to life as possible while I remain able. We can aspire to create timeless architecture, but even the most enduring monuments are, like all of us, transient and impermanent. What is important for architects is to add to, build upon, and enrich the collective memory so it is sustained and transcends the earthly limitations of our buildings. 

(1)  Despite the impacts of the pandemic, Robertson/Sherwood/Architects has been busy; indeed, we just added to our staff to meet current project demands. As I mentioned previously, working from home has been effective. Everyone at RSA appears to be coping as well as can be expected with the strangeness of the new normal.

(2) I happened to be in Venice in November of 1979 and saw the Teatro del Mondo, just prior to the 1980 Venice Architecture Biennale for which Rossi designed it. Given his preoccupation with lasting monuments, there is some irony in the fact the floating theater was a temporary exhibit and not a permanent structure.

 

Essential Projects

Many “nonessential” businesses scaled back or suspended operations back in March when the magnitude of the COVID-19 outbreak became apparent. At the same time many states, including Oregon, deemed the construction industry to be “essential.” The pandemic has interrupted or delayed some supply chains (especially for materials sourced overseas), and the protocols and precautions necessary to protect construction workers undoubtedly have added extra time, effort, and cost. Generally though, builders have adjusted to the new normal and projects continue to plug along. 

The local jobs that broke ground before 2020’s unprecedented shutdown are now either well underway, nearing completion, or just recently completed. For readers who may not live in the Eugene-Springfield area, the level of current construction activity may come as a surprise. The following is just a sampling of the more significant examples. There are other projects I could have listed here as well; if I failed to acknowledge a particularly noteworthy one, feel free to leave a comment below. 

Hayward Field

The new Hayward Field project has crossed the finish line, but no one’s taken a victory lap yet. The jaw-dropping design by the SRG Partnership will have to wait. The facility was supposed to host the 2020 PAC-12 Track & Field Championships, the 2020 Olympic Trials, and the annual Prefontaine Classic, but all have been canceled or postponed. Additionally, the IAAF has moved the 2021 World Athletics Championships—a primary impetus for the rebuilding of Hayward Field—to 2022. Until the day of the first meet arrives, we’ll just have to wait to see if the new Hayward Field rekindles the magic of the historic venue it replaces. 

Knight Campus for Accelerating Scientific Impact

The University of Oregon is staking much upon the success of the Knight Campus for Accelerating Scientific Impact, now approaching completion. If the project fulfills its promise, it will attract leading researchers and research dollars to the university, enhancing its prestige and stature.

Despite its importance and correspondingly significant budget, the design by Ennead and BORA isn’t as commanding a presence as I initially imagined it would be. Instead, notwithstanding its bulk and the presence of the heroic new pedestrian overpass, it cuts an otherwise unassuming figure along Franklin Boulevard. Its north side fronting the old canoe canal is more transparent and deferential to its setting. 

The Market Expansion

The Obie Companies’ $75 million 5^th Street Market Expansion appears to be on target for completion later this year. As it has taken shape, it’s clear the mixed-use design by Ankrom Moison will energize the Market District. Of course, this assumes traditional retail and leisure, and the attractions of urban living, rebound once the pandemic subsides. If they do, I predict downtown Eugene’s renaissance will finally shift into high gear. The Market Expansion will greatly add to the critical mass necessary to attract further commercial and residential development to the heart of the city. 

Market District Commons

Bergsund Delaney Architecture and Planning designed the Market District Commons for Homes for Good, Lane County’s housing agency and a prominent developer of affordable housing for low-income persons and families. The Market District Commons, like the neighboring Market Expansion, is a mixed-use project. It will include 50 affordable housing units plus commercial space. Homes for Good partnered with the Obie Companies to develop the project. The project appears to be tracking toward completion this fall. 

The Commons on MLK

Also designed by Bergsund Delaney for Homes for Good, The Commons on MLK will provide 51 units to house and support previously homeless individuals. 

Midtown Arts Center

With its concealing shroud, the new Midtown Arts Center is like a present waiting to be unwrapped. I’m looking forward to the big reveal, which should occur in a few short months. As I mentioned previously, Dustrud Architecture designed the Center to precisely be the kind of mixed-use project Eugene needs to meet its goals for compact growth. It will be the future home for the Eugene Ballet, providing it with space befitting a first-class dance troupe and instructional academy. Scale-wise, the bulk of the seven-story building isn’t overwhelming, though it does somewhat crowd the sidewalks and the adjacent street trees. 

Unfortunately, the COVID-19 crisis has hit the Eugene Ballet hard. The pandemic has forced the company to suspend its performance schedule and programs, including its summer Academy for aspiring dancers. If good fortune prevails, the Ballet may soon move into its new home, enriching the local arts scene as it resumes training, rehearsals, and teaching. 

UO Hamilton Walton Transformation

Quickly taking shape, Phase One of the UO Hamilton Walton Transformation project will provide residences for approximately 700 students when it opens a year from now. Two additional construction phases will follow, ultimately resulting in removal of Walton Hall to make space for 700 additional beds, and removal of Hamilton Hall to make room for a new “Humpy-Lumpy” outdoor space. Designed by Rowell Brokaw Architects with Mithun, the overall project is targeting LEED Gold certification. 

Autzen Stadium East Scoreboard 

Not a building per se, but a significant construction project nevertheless. Privately funded, the $12 million new east scoreboard will be the largest in all of college football when it is completed. Designed and fabricated by Daktronics (with local design assistance by Cameron McCarthy Landscape Architecture and Planning) the immense video screen will be 186 feet wide (wider than the distance between the sidelines of the field!) and 66 feet tall. Alas, with the cancelation of the 2020 PAC-12 football season, Duck fans will have to wait until 2021 to see the new scoreboard in operation. 

Several equally significant building projects are set to begin construction in 2021. These include the following: 

• Edison Elementary School
• North Eugene High School
• Eugene Family YMCA
• Eugene-Broadway Apartments (current Café Yumm at East Broadway and Hilyard Street)
• Eugene Downtown Riverfront Development
• Eugene Town Square

Despite the contagion-induced slowdown for the greater economy, construction activity remains robust here in the Eugene-Springfield market. I’m sure certain building sectors are suffering (for example, I suspect many owners or developers have cancelled or indefinitely postponed their retail, restaurant, and hospitality projects); nevertheless, the Governor’s designation of construction as an essential industry early on has lessened the consequences for many. The economic hardship of a severe recession may be in store for us, but for now building design and construction industry in Oregon—while utilizing best practices to avoid transmission of the SARS-CoV-2 virus—is showing staying power.

(All photos above are by me) 

The Four C’s

The Construction Specifications Institute recently announced the publication of the 3^rd edition of its Project Delivery Practice Guide. Its advent prompted me to again consider the reasons why the precepts espoused by CSI offer practical solutions to the problem of ensuring successful construction project outcomes. One such solution is its now classic “Four C’s” mnemonic, which is emblematic of CSI’s principled approach to effective construction communications. 

The Four C’s encourage specification writers to assemble Project Manuals so they are:

• Clear: Grammar is proper and uses simple sentence construction to avoid ambiguity.
• Concise: Unnecessary words are avoided, but not at the expense of clarity, correctness, or completeness.
• Correct: Information is accurate and precise, employing carefully selected words that convey exact meanings.
• Complete: All important, necessary information is present.

There are other C’s we could add to this list (“Consistent” and “Coordinated” immediately come to mind) but CSI’s choice of its four C’s provides a particularly useful set with broad applications in all forms of construction communications.

The escalating complexity of even relatively modest building projects presents serious challenges to everyone involved in the construction industry. Increasingly, it strains the ability of project teams to capably do their jobs. The four C’s help offset this complexity by cultivating writing skills that emphasize impact, effectiveness, and economy of means. A direct correlation between efficient communications and the mounting complexity of projects is necessary if we hope to keep up with the exponential pace of change we see around us.

Successful construction processes have always relied upon good communications among all participants in the project delivery process. What has changed over the years are the means of communication (now thoroughly dependent upon modes that facilitate sharing and manipulation of information across a variety of electronic platforms), the speed demanded of that communication, and the increase in the number of issues we must consider on every project.

CSI’s authoritative promotion of its now widely-accepted documentation standards—MasterFormat, Uniformat, OmniClass, and GreenFormat among them—has certainly proven invaluable by providing accepted frameworks within which to organize an explosion in construction-related information. That said, CSI’s steadfast upholding of four simple writing principles has also been instrumental in the development of an industry culture that values information management and the education of project teams to improve facility performance.

Unfortunately, studies suggest young people entering the workforce today demonstrate relatively weak literacy skills despite high levels of educational attainment. Technical writing proficiency —the ability to convey written information in a focused, easy-to-understand, audience-based manner free of errors—is increasingly a lost art. The shorthand of social media writing has not helped, nor has a corresponding decline in the application of rule-governed, ordered, and logical grammar.

Those new to the construction industry need to recognize how important the ability to write well can be to their future professional prospects. If so inclined, they will find specification writing and construction information management to be sectors poised for significant growth. Specifiers are and will continue to be the indispensable managers of a project’s DNA—the information essential to its successful realization. The importance of clear, concise, correct, and complete communications has never been more evident than it is today.

Architecture is Awesome #21: Symmetry

Leonardo da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man,” representing symmetry in the human body (and by extension, that of the natural universe)

This is another in my series of posts inspired by 1000 Awesome Things, the Webby Award winning blog written by Neil Pasricha. The series is my meditation on the awesome reasons why I was and continue to be attracted to the art of architecture. 

Most people recognize symmetry when they see it, whether the pattern is apparent in nature or in a building designed by architects. We instinctively relate to bilateral symmetry, which is evident across the vertical axis of our own bodies. That implicit axis—referred to as the sagittal plane—represents our upright stance and is fundamentally built into our physiology. It is the orientation of Earth’s gravity and helps us understand our relationship to three-dimensional space. Humans are attracted to bilateral symmetry (also referred to as axial or reflection symmetry) because it is familiar. Other commonly understood types of symmetry include rotational symmetry (meaning the geometry looks the same even if rotated) and translational symmetry (repetition and alternation along a straight line, such as in an architectural frieze).

Flowers illustrating rotational symmetry in nature (photo by Alvesgaspar / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0))

Architects have long relied on symmetry as an organizational strategy when designing buildings, particularly the shape and arrangement of the spaces they contain, and the composition and articulation of the surfaces that define those spaces. Symmetry is useful because humans naturally respond to recognizable patterns, whereas we find excessive randomness confusing and stressful. We have a natural affinity for symmetrical patterns because they effectively reduce the amount of information our brains must process and interpret. The use of symmetry is pervasive in the design of buildings, manifest in their plans, forms, and details.  

Taj Mahal (photo © Yann Forget / Wikimedia Commons)

Symmetry isn’t necessarily simplistic, though many architects who eschew the notion and application of symmetry on aesthetic grounds will argue it is. Symmetry is a simple concept, but its application can be extraordinarily sophisticated if it exists within a hierarchy of multiple, linked scales, and is complex rather than monotonous. There are many noteworthy buildings we do not immediately characterize as “symmetrical,” but they are in fact comprised of coherent sets of connected fields or parts featuring localized symmetries. For example, they may consist of rhythmic and interrelated groupings of elements, each of which contain minor variation within them at different scales. Such complexity accommodates imperfections and roughness. Rather than “perfect” symmetry, these complex systems of patterns more importantly convey visual and relational coherence. By contrast, achieving such coherence using minimalist design principles requires a greater reliance upon the visual contrast between and quality of the finish materials employed, or the patterning associated with changing light conditions, than is always attainable. 

Ceiling of the Lotfollah mosque, Isfahan, Iran (photo by Phillip Maiwald (Nikopol) / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0))

Asymmetry may suggest the opposite of symmetry, but if thoughtfully composed, asymmetrical designs feature strong centers and localized symmetries that are balanced with complementary weighting across axes that may not be evident straight away. Asymmetry evokes dynamism and movement, whereas a more rigid symmetry suggests formality and structure. 

The successful application of symmetry in architecture primarily has to do with the harmonious relationship of parts to the whole. It is about balance in design. We find symmetry satisfying because we ourselves are symmetrical and programmed to relate to the symmetries we find in our surroundings. Architecture that employs symmetries of various types at many scales more fully harnesses the AWESOME power of our minds to comprehend and interpret our environment.  

Next Architecture is Awesome: #22 The Symbolism of Shelter