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
What is this static modernism? Why can't office buildings use doorknobs that are truly knob-like in shape? What is this static modernism that architects of the second tier have imposed on us: steel half-U handles or lathed objects shaped like superdomes, instead of brass, porcelain, or glass knobs? The upstairs doorknobs in the house I grew up in were made of faceted glass. As you extended your fingers to open a door, a cloud of flesh-color would diffuse into the glass from the opposite direction. The knobs were loosely seated in their latch mechanism, and heavy, and the combination of solidity and laxness made for a multiply staged experience as you turned the knob: a smoothness that held intermediary tumbleral fallings-into-position. Few American products recently have been able to capture that same knuckly, orthopedic quality. Nicholson Baker, The Mezzanine The door handle is the handshake of a building modernismdoorstouchobjects