From our friends at ArchDaily.com, a fantastic video offering advice for young architects, by some of the brightest architects in the world: Bjarke Ingels, Charles Renfro, Einar Jarmund, Ma Yasong, Sam Jacob, Jim Eyre, and Andrew Maynard.
I hope all licensing bodies in the USA and abroad move towards requiring a professional degree to practice architecture. I know some places allow you to just work for X amount of years and then take exams to become licensed. I would like to see a stronger emphasis on formal education and a focus on conceptual thinking for all architects.
June 14, 2013
June 12, 2013
Designed by Peter Ruge Architekten, Green Health City pioneers new models for sustainable development in China's healthcare market and sets a benchmark for the design of future ecological cities. Situated in China's Hainan Province in Boao Lecheng on the Wanquan River, five island districts bring together world-class medical facilities, employ new strategies for green energy production and rethink transportation networking.
Once implemented, this sustainable urban prototype achieved with China Power International New Energy Holding Ltd, INFRAWIND Eurasia, TU Berlin and Charité, will assure Green Health City a place at the international forefront of health care development. Green Health City has been presented at the Boao Forum for Asia Annual Conference in Boao, P.R. China, the United Nations RIO +20 Implementation Summit in Berlin and the 9th Asia Pacific Week Berlin, as a prototype for new health infrastructure and urban design stratagies that pave the way toward future green city development.
Labels: Peter Ruge
June 6, 2013
Only 1,000 copies will be printed with 100 special edition copies that will include one of five photographic prints.
At 140 pages, uncoated paper, an exposed, section sewn binding and cardboard case, this will be a true collector’s item for those interested in New Zealand history, architecture, design and photography.
Portrait of a House is a photo book by photographer Simon Devitt in collaboration with graphic designer Arch MacDonnell (Inhouse Design). This is Devitt’s first foray in the photo book genre. His book explores the Athfield House - the ‘village on the hill’ - an architectural experiment that Ian Athfield started in 1965 on the Khandallah hillside in Wellington, and which he is still altering and extending today.
The house is renowned in bohemian and academic circles for its many colourful dinner parties and occasions, and is infamous with neighbours past and present for the antics of its free-range livestock and frequent run-ins with Council. Roosters have been shot, construction shut down and architectural pilgrimages made.
This is an extraordinary story told though Devitt’s sensitive eye, blended with historic photographs, paintings and drawings from the Athfield archive. Clare Athfield’s contribution of her own recipes (dating from the 1960s until now) complements a selection of personal letters by family, friends, colleagues and clients which are insightful and often very funny - memories that make Simon’s photographs all the more potent in their beauty and silence.
The idea for the book came from Devitt’s admiration of Robin Morrison’s work and in particular Morrison’s 1978 photo book Images of a House about a William Gummer-designed house built in 1916. “A house is a pretty refined subject to make a book about,” explains Devitt. “It is not market driven, it is content driven and born out of passion. Life has happened there like in no other house, and the ‘living’ leaves its evidence, time has played out on its surface. There is a lot to be said about sitting still and how that looks. The Athfield house is a wonderful example of this. An accessible counterpoint to a largely asset based living that pervades New Zealand.”
Author Simon Devitt
Published by Balasoglou Books May 2013
For more information email: email@example.com
June 2, 2013
Someone is always crying in studio. I consider myself to be compassionate but I don’t stop anymore; rarely does one want to discuss failed projects that took all night. A person who I can’t see groggily asks me what time it is. “Seven.” I answer. “AM or PM?”
This is the start of every day, and most of us love it. We all chose this. For most of us, it has become an all consuming lifestyle that we accept partly with satisfaction and partly with an unexplainable ache and sense of loss for something that we can not name.
If you are like me your inbox is crowded with emails from well meaning family members pointing you towards links to unemployment statistics and grad school debt averages. In an economy where the dream of wanting to design things has become privileged and increasingly uncharacteristic of the entry level jobs that await recent grads, it’s hard not to wonder about the direction of not only the profession, but one's personal track. So I went out and asked people from different schools the question that is tied to our ankles, and seared so deeply in us that it is breathing through our work:
1. Why did you decide to study architecture or make the switch from a differing field?
2. In light of the current economic climate of the field of construction and housing on a whole, what motivated you to continue on this path? (If you are no longer motivated please share why, and what you may move on to.)
For the most part, it seemed as though the decision to study architecture was less about choice and more about not being able to consider anything else. From kindergarten, first grade, and some swear infancy, a seedling of fixation on how things come together was fed. Many of the responding students had chosen architecture from their Lego building days, or were following in the footsteps of a family tradition. “I’ve been drawing houses since I was five.” one student responds. Another:
“Buildings speak to me. They always have.”
“It fascinates me. More than my other studies do.”
Another student answers beautifully,
“I've been interested in architecture since a young age. In the beginning it was the interesting forms that drew my attention. As life experiences [accumulated], I become more interested in the interactive aspect of architecture: what's the role of architecture in people's lives, how do people interact with a building, and how architecture affects people's feelings and experiences, etc.”
This response encompasses what many may feel is the natural evolution of a love for design. Aesthetic interest - interest in its use and benefit as a psychological instrument.
The decision to follow the path according to the responses I received were part first love, part romance, part unquenchable curiosity and vision that one might be able to create large scale change. These dreams aren’t new. They grew up with their possessors and were never quite extinguished. The current economic climate is the main factor that comes close to burning out of Gen Y students.
The overwhelming responses to the second question were from students on the head end of the housing crash auto piloting on bare optimism. One student says specifically, “The economic climate was "eh" at graduation time, varying somewhat by geographic area. Like other recessions, they fade, and the decision to continue was based on that.” Another student responds, “Not to sound ignorant, but, I honestly though it would be over by now.”
The result? Architecture is losing motivated and brilliant minds to more promising fields such as engineering, to what many [albeit raw and uncalculating] perspectives, including my own, see as a mere paycheck. The ones that stay behind suffer with the unfair darkness of a new pessimism that only came from being in the right place at the wrong time. A well written article on Generation Y featured on the Design Intelligence website offers this piece of valuable insight. “If young workers are getting disgruntled and bored, they may give up on making a difference. The other danger is split allegiances. Instead of focusing on the firm’s primary work, outside professional adventures become more interesting.”
It’s time to really start the discussion. What can we as a profession/country do to allow the people who have been shaped by their interaction with the study of architecture continue to have a hand in shaping our relationships with the built environment?