Yesterday I stopped by Leslie Feely Fine Art on Manhattan's Upper East Side to check out the exhibition Frank Gehry At Work, on display until June 29. The exhibition collects about 30 process models, some for buildings that were completed, others as studies for projects never realized. Below are some of my photos and impressions.
Given the focus on Gehry "at work," the models range from messy to really messy—tape and hot glue are evident where needed to hold the metal, plastic, paper, wood, and even cloth into Gehry's distinctive forms. Easily my favorite piece is the one done in lead (below photo); even though it is undeniably Gehry, the fact it is made from one sheet of lead and is self supporting (no wood armature like the model above) brings it closer to a piece of art than the others.
Some of the models are more like presentation models than process models, such as these above and below. Yet as a close-up of the above photo reveals, globs of hot glue are still evident, as if capturing the forms in whatever means necessary is more important than craft. Another model I like seeing is a fairly well developed model of the IAC Headquarters near the High Line, accompanied by a photo of the completed building. In particular it's the entrance canopy in the lower-left corner that interests me, for I've always felt that the entrance and relationship of the building to the surrounding sidewalks is one of the weakest parts of the design (if not his whole oeuvre). But this small gesture, if realized (the entrance is on the north, or right side of the model), would have shifted the center of gravity and sidewalk presence of the building most dramatically.
Gehry's paper model for Beekman Tower (what was later named 8 Spruce Street then "New York by Gehry") is also interesting, for it shows much more variation happening from floor to floor, rather than the subtle shifts that happen at the perimeter of the completed building. Obviously this earlier iteration is much more expensive than what was built (remember, one full elevation of the tower is completely flat), but it's good to see Gehry working out what a tower could and should be.
Last night at the Harvard Club was the announcement of the Harvard University Graduate School of Design's 2013 Wheelwright Prize winner. For the first time since its inception in 1936, the $100,000 Wheelwright Prize (formerly known as the Arthur Wheelwright Traveling Fellowship) is open to architects beyond the walls of Harvard GSD. Nevertheless the winner, Brooklyn-based architect Gia Wolff (who was chosen from among 231 applicants from 45 countries), graduated from the GSD in 2008.
Her winning proposal, Floating City: The Community-Based Architecture of Parade Floats, can be seen as an extension of a practice focused on performance through set designs, installations, and other creations. K. Michael Hays, a juror for the prize, spoke of the strong connection between her portfolio and proposal, something not always evident in other applicants. Wolff described her work—in particular with the Phantom Limb Company and its marionettes—as "dress rehearsals for architecture," a thinking that she will apply to the study of community-based parade floats in Brazil, India, France, Italy and Spain.
So, in the vein of "Where's Waldo," where's Wheelwright Prize winner Gia Wolff in this photo of the Gordon Reading Room?
[Click photo for answer.]
In his remarks, GSD Dean Mohsen Mostafavi pointed out something that separates the Wheelwright Prize from others (such as Wash U's Steedman, which I've entered a few times but never won): The prize does not require any outcome; it does not require anything to be produced. Wolff does not have to make a book, give a lecture, do anything based on her travels. But Mostafavi said this means the "gift" has "incredible ethical values." At the least, Wolff's travels will inform her practice; beyond that, it could produce just the things that the prize does not require.
We'll have to wait and see what comes of Wolff's travels, though Storefront for Art and Architecture director Eva Franch i Gilabert had a good idea: When she's done in two years, Wolff should come knocking on one of the Storefront's panels and propose something for the next IDEAS CITY, since there is a synergy between the way large-scale parade floats activate the streets of cities and what the biennial festival is trying to accomplish.
[The stair hall outside of the Gordon Reading Room. This was my first—and, who knows, maybe my last—time visiting the Harvard Club.]
Wolff's Floating City proposal is very intriguing, especially framed through images she showed of floats that approach the size of buildings. Below is a section of a video that really gets across the scale and performance aspects of Rio's Carneval, one of the places where Wolff will be traveling.
A few weeks ago I found myself in West Harlem and decided to check out the progress on Columbia University's Manhattanville project, designed by Renzo Piano with SOM and James Corner Field Operations. The 17-acre project is controversial for its use of eminent domain, but that's ancient history and the first phase of the development plan is full steam ahead. In this view looking north from the 125th Street elevated 1-train station, the white steel of the Jerome L. Greene Science Center can be seen rising:
Here is a view looking east from atop the Riverside Drive viaduct (per the Manhattanville project's first-phase site plan, that boarded up building in the foreground will be coming down):
My reason for being in the area was a "Changing Architecture" panel hosted by GLUCK+ (formerly Peter Gluck and Partners) in the Malt House, a factory building they are transforming on West 126th Street. The evening focused on transforming the process of architecture through architect-led design-build, which GLUCK+ (and very few other firms) practices. Parts of the evening felt like an exercise in branding—with a series of "What's your plus?" queries starting the evening, and "Our plus is (blank)" being in lots of responses to other questions—but Peter Gluck, his son, and the three other principals made some convincing arguments for their process, which was strengthened for me after getting a tour I got of their office a few doors east.
While I like the idea of architect-led design-build, I understand the trepidation that most architects would have with abandoning traditional practice and delving into the relatively uncertain waters of the process, where each architect serves as architect and construction manager. In this vein, I'd argue that employees at GLUCK+ should serve a maximum of 3-5 years, thereby learning enough about the process to then embark on their own and "spread the gospel" of architect-led design-build. To really have an impact this alternative practice needs to expand beyond the confines of firms like GLUCK+, and this is one way to accomplish that, just as firms like OMA have served as a place for educating a certain type of architect before they start up their own companies.
To bring this post back to Manhattanville, one of the (many) positive attributes of Gluck's firm is the way it is invested in the welfare of its community, but in a much different way than Columbia University. Small projects like the Malt House have a major impact in the area, without the displacement of buildings and people and the bullying associated with that. This investment can be shared by more traditional architects, but the design-build aspect of GLUCK+ extends that, especially when combined with the strong relationships they have with local developers, one in attendance on the panel. More discussions are planned with GLUCK+ in West Harlem, and based on the first they will be highly recommended.