Níall McLaughlin
Architects

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.}

LARGE-SCALE MODEL MAKING

SEPTEMBER 2014

The use of physical models by architects is well established, and can be seen throughout history as the natural partner to drawings for exhibiting a proposal of the building prior to construction. Within our practice, models are rarely produced as mere presentation pieces, but rather as tools for exploration. This role makes them less precious and complete, with the ability to change and adapt the design following the feedback that the model has initiated.

The type of models that I enjoy most are those of a larger scale, of 1:20 and above where you are able to get your head inside and truly appreciate the space. In addition to the final form of such models, much is learnt through the process of construction. Structure, surfaces and junctions are some of the issues that require resolution during the making of the model. Within our studio space, we have a large area dedicated to model making, which allows for building and display of sizeable pieces.

During our work on a new build private residence in Hampshire, we carried out much of the design work on the external envelope through the use of physical models. They were worked up in increasing scales including a 1:10 piece of the facade. In particular, we were considering the form of the heavy external piers, fascias and cornices against the lighter timber elements that sat within them. We made the model using a similar sequence to the proposed building construction. We put the more solid facade elements in place so that we could begin considering a number of different forms for the timber window framing that sat within. The glazing was again produced in a similar method to the full-scale building, with a timber-framed bay built separately prior to installation in to the existing facade. We fixed these delicately so that removal would be possible.

We worked on a number of iterations of the window form, adapting the frames and constructing new versions when modification was not possible. Each time, the model was left on display within the studio so that everyone in the practice could consider the alternative versions and provide feedback. Once we had a favoured form, we used the same model to illustrate the proposal to the clients for approval.

I believe that such iterative assessments and amendments would only have been possible through the use of a large-scale physical model. Building models is about constructing space, and many of the activities are similar in technique and execution as the construction of a real building. By carrying out these actions in miniature we may appreciate the building as a physical form and understand the three dimensional mass. Building of models is our primary opportunity to test and refine our building form, whilst experiencing and discovering an approximation of the processes that will be required to make it.

Alastair Crockett studied at the University of Bath, University College London and London Metropolitan University. Since joining Niall McLaughlin Architects in 2012 he has worked on the T1 building in King’s Cross; a private residence in Hampshire and the Nazrin Shah Building for Worcester College in Oxford.