Working with Brian Eno on design principles for streets An Article by Dan Hill & Brian Eno medium.com Think like a gardener, not an architect: design beginnings, not endings Unfinished = fertile Artists are to cities what worms are to soil. A city’s waste should be on public display. Make places that are easy for people to change and adapt (wood and plaster, as opposed to steel and concrete.) Places which accommodate the very young and the very old are loved by everybody else too. Low rent = high life Make places for people to look at each other, to show off to each other. Shared public space is the crucible of community. A really smart city is the one that harnesses the intelligence and creativity of its inhabitants. collectionsurbanismstreetscitieswastegardens
The answer to a brief is not necessarily a building An Article by Dan Hill medium.com This brilliantly engaging book may actually be one of the first to describe and discuss what might be architecture’s true value at this pivotal point in our own history: seeing that everything is connected, and artfully hosting that complexity, before constructively plotting routes towards clarity, pinned up on broad civic, ethical foundations. So Architects after Architecture, as the title suggests, is not about buildings. Or at least not always, not directly. Buildings are simply one of the ways that this complex yet constructive sensibility might exert itself, but they are certainly not the only way, nor are they always the most potent – as muf’s Liza Fior makes clear here, when she says “the answer to a brief is not necessarily a building.” The Best Interface is No Interface architectureconnection
At the Green Mosque In Broussa in Asia Minor, at the Green Mosque, you enter by a little doorway of normal human height; a quite small vestibule produces in you the necessary change of scale so that you may appreciate, as against the dimensions of the street and the spot you come from, the dimensions with which is is intended to impress you. Then you can feel the noble size of the mosque and your eyes can take its measure. You are in a great white marble space filled with light. Beyond you can see a second similar space of the same dimensions, but in half-light and raised on several steps (repetition in a minor key); on each side still a smaller space in subdued light; turning round, you have two very small spaces in shade. From full light to shade, a rhythm. Tiny doors and enormous bays. You are captured, you have lost the sense of the common scale. You are enthralled by a sensorial rhythm (light and volume) and by an able use of scale and measure, into a world of its own which tells you what it set out to tell you. Le Corbusier, Towards a New Architecture 112. Entrance Transition doors