SCREENS
JUNE 2015
Images: Avenham Park Pavillion, Preston. The Institute of Timber, Detroit
‘What do you see when you look up through the trees? Try to imagine this moment in a pretended place or part of a journey through a particular sequence of spaces. How does one describe this experience? What is it about spaces in nature, for example forests, which make them fascinating yet at the same time unsettling places to inhabit? A forest offers a place of refuge and natural beauty where the element of surprise is all part of the experience’
The idea of nature as a spatial experience and a driver for architectural form was a question that ran through my academic work and has subsequently led to an obsession with a perceptual and evolving architecture. It is interesting that my time in the office has allowed me to both reflect and discover parallels that run through similar themes in the work of the practice. A pursuit for a “thicket-like” characteristic, which allows for shifts in spatial qualities and a variation of patterns that overlay like woven surfaces to define space are just some of the mannerisms that I have begun to recognise.
I compare my own attempt to generate a kind of place that is animated, brightening as you ascend towards the canopy when reading the blurred lines of the roof of the pavilion designed for a woodland park in Preston. The structure is designed as a number of layers of mesh to capture rain whilst creating a display of shadows that activate the building beneath. As a competition proposal, the structure was never fully realised yet it has been the ideas established during this process that still resonate today. By staggering the building between the tree density, the line of the pavilion is undefined breaking the traditional form of constructing space and allowing a new reading of the building and landscape. Particularly enlightening in the search for the enclosure of space is a fruition of a screen-like quality that works as a surface and also as a generator of it’s tectonic form.
The use of the screen as a ‘device’ in our architecture allows elements to become not only separators of rooms or the external environment but also actuators for unique and unimagined spatial experiences. In search of this architecture is an attempt to purposefully discover a different architecture and an unplanned result that wouldn’t necessarily be reached through something un-natural.
Benni Allan graduated from the Bartlett with Distinction in 2014, and has been working on a project for Jesus College, Cambridge since joining Niall McLaughlin Architects. In February 2015, Benni was named as one of the nation’s up-and-coming designers and ‘One to Watch’ by the Design Council to represent the future of British design. His project the ‘City of Forests’ looked at beautifying Detroit through reforestation strategies to promote a denser, greener and more sustainable future in which timber becomes the main economic output. As Detroit continues to struggle with the effects of massive industrial changes, this more positive image of vacancy as an asset opens new discussions about the future post-industrial city.
THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE
NOVEMBER 2014
Sarah-Jane McGee, Project Architect (Right) and and Sophia Tibbo, Structural Engineer (Left) on site, 2014
I recently explained to a relative that the most exciting part of my job is the element of surprise. I compared the world of desktops and emails and repetitive strain injury to that thrill I get each Wednesday when arriving on site to inspect progress. It is the uplifting discovery of the unexpected that is most satisfying to me.
The origin of the word ‘surprise’ ranges in meaning from ‘overcome with emotion’, ‘strike of astonishment’ or ‘a taking unawares’. This is also common to the early process of design during which the building takes shape inside your mind as a sequence of spaces, moments and details. As architects, our job for many months and even years on a single project is to translate this purely imaginary set of ideas into a two-dimensional rule-book for eventual construction. The resulting documentation is scientific, precise, and impersonal. It is accompanied by reams of contracts, costs, schedules and sums. It is in short, quite dull to the naked eye.
This document then comes into contact with a wide range of people; contract managers, site agents, sub-contractors, labourers and tradesmen. They have a unique ability to bring this pile of paper to life. Over the days and months the team forms the structure like bees in a hive. One week there is a hole in the ground, soon after the steel is measured and delivered, the floors and stairs go in, the roof lights are installed, the doors are hung and the whole thing is ‘buttoned up’. Suddenly what was abstract becomes real, what were lines become tangible surfaces, shocking in their dimension and materiality.
Construction is simply connecting one thing to another thing, layering over and over and over. The physical actions are drilling, digging, hammering, stacking, lifting, fixing, pouring, spreading, sticking, brushing, nailing. It is a human activity, with each person lending his or her very specific skills to create the whole.
To me it seems surprising and almost contradictory that something as animated, chaotic and personal as a construction site can become a silent space of light falling on blank walls. The story is hidden behind white layers of plasterboard, a secret that will only be uncovered in the next round of renovation or demolition.
After all the humming and drilling the building gets built. The bees move on; an enchantingly empty hive remains. And we begin to imagine again.
Sarah-Jane McGee graduated with a first class honors degree from University College Dublin in 2008. Sarah-Jane won the Irish Architectural Graduates Association Gold Medal in 2008 and her thesis project was highly commended in the OPUS Construction Awards in 2008. Having worked in Ireland for O’Donnell and Tuomey Architects and in Italy for Mario Cucinella Architects, she joined Niall McLaughlin Architects in 2011. Since joining the practice she has worked as Project Architect on a recently completed private house in Hampstead, London as well as working on St. Cross College, St. Teresa’s Carmelite prayer room in Dublin, a fishing hut in Hampshire and the ROQ Masterplan in Oxford.