Articles by Eduardo Souza

Paulo Mendes da Rocha often says that the function of architecture is nothing more than ‘supporting the unpredictability of life’. Spaces stand everyday life, meetings, landscape, art. Something like a frame, which is often also considered a supporting element of a work of art, since it highlights and, mainly, directs the viewer’s gaze to the main object. The phrase of the Brazilian architect combines well with the way that the Lacaton & Vassal office works. The French couple’s award raises some questions about how accurate their choices are for the current moment in the world. This includes the philosophy of their work, the design solutions adopted and the material palette generally adopted.

It is difficult to find someone who never played LEGO as a child. What if, like LEGO’s, we thought of buildings as great assembling games? U-Build is a modular wooden construction system developed by Studio Bark to be easy to build, pleasant to inhabit, and simple to deconstruct at the end of its useful life. The system removes many of the difficulties associated with traditional construction, enabling individuals and communities to build their own homes and buildings. The system uses precision CNC machining to create a kit of parts, allowing the structure of the building to be assembled by people with limited skills and experience, using only simple hand tools.

The height of the ceiling of a space heavily influences our perception of it. Generally, local building codes regulate the minimum dimensions for ceiling height, which are calculated to ensure adequate quality of life in the environment. But the exact height of the ceilings is often defined by the dimensions of other materials that make up the building, the height of the constitutive slabs, or even by rounding the dimensions of the stair steps. It is common, with the densification of cities aimed at increasing profitability, for entrepreneurs to design with minimum ceiling heights in houses and offices, reducing construction costs. On the other hand, in older structures, more generous ceilings can be observed, which generally enable a greater degree of design freedom. But how can architects make the most of these spaces?

Because of their aesthetic forms, robust materials, and the nostalgic memories to which they refer, old objects often please many people and, from time to time, end up returning to fashion. In the construction industry this is no different. One object that has remained popular forever is the shed light, more specifically the Gooseneck Lamp. Its combination of a traditional look with newer technologies creates an extremely attractive product.

There are two main reasons why boat windows are round. They are easier to seal and, above all, more resistant to the high pressure that water exerts on them. This is because living corners are places where tensions are naturally concentrated, weakening the structure as a whole. This is also why aircraft windows are small and round; high pressures are better distributed in curved shapes, reducing the likelihood of cracks or breaks.

Industrial buildings are among the best examples of Louis Sullivan‘s famous phrase “form follows function.” Generally, they are functional, efficient buildings, quick to build and unornamented. That is why, when we study the industrial heritage of different cities and countries, we are able to understand local materials, technologies, and traditional construction methods of the time. England’s red brick factories come to mind, as well as the roof lanterns used to provide natural light to factories and other typical construction elements. Metallic and precast concrete structures are currently the most commonly used due to a combination of construction efficiency, cost, the possibility of expansive spans, and the unawareness of the benefits of other materials, such as wood. Often, these industrial warehouses are also characterized by being cold and impersonal, in addition to having a considerable carbon footprint. But Canada’s experience in recent years is noteworthy, where there have been an increasing number of wooden buildings constructed for industrial programs.

Metaphorically, building bridges equates to creating new opportunities, connections, and paths. The first bridges likely formed naturally with logs falling across rivers and natural depressions, though humans have also been building rudimentary structures to overcome obstacles since prehistory. Today, technological advances have made it possible to erect bridges that are both impressive and sculptural, playing a key role in transportation and connectivity. Usually needing to overcome large spans, with few points of support, bridges can be quite difficult to structure. But when is the bridge more than a connection between two points, instead resembling a building with a complex program? How can these ‘bridge houses’ be structured?

Everyone who has ever built anything—a model, a birdhouse, or small pieces of furniture—has a clear sense of the amount of things that can go wrong during the construction process. A screw that is impossible to tighten fully, a warped wooden board, an inattention or a miscalculation that can frustrate plans instantly. When we transport these small inconveniences to a building scale, with countless processes and many different people involved, we know how complex a work can become and how many things can get out of control, taking more and more time and requiring more and more resources to finish. And when we talk about a building that needs to float, be completely self-sufficient, and, after fulfilling its useful life, be completely reused—could you imagine the technical challenges of building something like this?

At the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale, curator Alejandro Aravena decided to reuse 100 tons of material discarded by the previous Art Biennale to create the new exhibition halls. Besides preserving 10,000 m² of plasterboard and 14 km of metallic structures, the initiative intended to give value, through design, to something that would otherwise be discarded as waste. The project also shed light on another observation: as architects, we generally restrict ourselves to thinking about buildings during the design process, construction phase, and at most through the use phase. We hardly think of what will become of them when they are demolished at the end of their useful life, an issue that should urgently become part of the conversation.

Through shapes, colors, and the elements on their facades, many architects have sought to bring a sense of movement to works that are otherwise physically static. Santiago Calatrava, Jean Nouvel, and Frank Gehry are only a few of the masters who managed to provide a dynamic effect to motionless structures, highlighting the work in context using formal strategies borrowed from the plastic arts. In other cases, however, architects have also opted for physically kinetic structures that could bring a unique aesthetic or functional dimension to the work.