SKATING IN ORDOS

What do you do with a city built for 300 000 people, but with a population of less than 10% of that? (It's Inner Mongolia, I don't blame humanity for not moving.) We're talking large urban spaces, attempts at innovative architecture, oversize bronze horses galloping across stone plazas, organic concrete shapes and four-lane roads without cars.

You bring your skateboard, of course.

The poetically named Kangbashi New Area, Ordos. Not Bregna.

FICTIONAL FRIDAY: SIDONIA

Long after the destruction of our Solar System, the space station city state of Sidonia may be the last remnant of mankind. In the newish Netflix series Knights of Sidonia, we observe what happens when an outsider from the deep and mysterious foundations of the city enters the world above, and goes further into space to fight the monsters that threaten the city's existence.

The city of Sidonia is a curious place. Unlike so many other visions of the future, a certain degree of organised complexity seems to the the principle with which it has been formed. The steel and glass skyscrapers which are at the core so many visions of the future are very absent, and in their place, we find an amazing diversity.

Artificial landscapes, bodies of water and immense structural skeletons of metal actually seem to be complemented by masonry buildings, with facades reminiscent of fortified European architecture, modern Japanese structures and weightless Middle Eastern villages stacked on top of each other. 

Hipped roof with terracotta tiles and what looks like green copper cladding, external staircases, courtyards, cloisters and even streetscapes give these conglomerates a wonderful amount of variation. Especially interesting is the way it all seems to have grown over time, with additions, nooks, balconies, bridges and towers. However, it all comes together as a rather harmonious-looking built environment, forming an effective background for the dramatic actions of the series. I'm fascinated.

PS. If you'd like to check out some real world-attempts at the same thing, check out the work of Ricardo Bofill, or MVRDV's Vertical Village concept.

FICTIONAL FRIDAY: THE LITTLE MERMAID or I'M MOVING TO COPENHAGEN!

Once again, months have passed since I last published anything on the blog. However, this doesn't mean that interesting things aren't happening; quite the opposite.

The image is an illustration from Danish writer H.C. Andersen's fairytale "The Little Mermaid", which was published in Copenhagen in 1837. The illustration was made by Edmund Dulac in 1911, and depicts the prince finding the mermaid right after she's received her legs. The prince is leaning on a column of (more or less) unprecedented design, with a concave base, which, although ornamented in gold patterns, brings a feeling of uncertainty to the scene, perhaps reflecting the lack of security and certainty that the mermaid seems to feel throughout the story. (Read it, it's beautiful and sad.)

Just like the little mermaid, I've caught myself longing to experience new places and new perspectives throughout the years at Bergen School of Architecture. Although it's an amazing school, where I've found some of my best friends, I'm not sure if I ever quite grasped what their approach is really about. With this in mind, I've spent many evenings and weekends during the last year making and sending applications to schools throughout the Western hemisphere. The first school I was told I got in to, was the Art Academy's Architecture School in Copenhagen (the official name is unbelievably long and complicated, and reeks of NPM), in English mostly just called KADK, and I accepted the place.

This means that I'll spend the last two years of my education in Copenhagen, Denmark's wondrous capital, a city of red brick and cobblestone, green copper domes and tree-lined canals. Thinking about it, I realised that quite a few posts on this blog have been based on pictures from Copenhagen, including the Totoro post, the smelling wood post, the perspective post (where the photo was taken a few metres form the grave of H.C. Andersen), the city life post, the summer farewell post, and the main entrance post + the murderous library post, both of which focus on how much the outside of the new Royal Library buildings sucks. I have a few friends in the city, and I hope to get more. Also, the city supposedly has a vibrant cultural scene which encompasses many different genres, and some very cute gay guys.

The main point of moving, though, is attending the new program in political architecture at KADK. In what seems to be an attempt at raising the school's academic achievements, we'll be focus as much on reading, discussing and writing, as we'll do on drawing, modeling and looking at pictures of houses. Rumor has it that some of the best teachers and students of the school have been put into the program, so I must admit that I'm both a bit nervous, as well as extremely excited. In the program, which also will approach the buzzword "sustainability"and criticisms of it, I hope to be able to use my experiences both as a politician working with architecture, as an environmental activist working with architecture, and as an architecture student concerned with politics and environmental questions.

Wish me luck! (And maybe I'll see you there?)

HURVA AND THE POWER OF RECONSTRUCTION

Main facade

Earlier today, my friend Anita sent me an article about the Hurva Synagogue in Jerusalem. Dating back centuries, it was reconstructed and re-opened in 2010, after having lain in ruins since 1948.

Actually, the building has been torn down several times, thus earning its name, which means "ruin" in Hebrew. However, it's also been rebuilt, time and time again, not at least because of its importance as a symbol for Jewish presence in Jerusalem and Palestine throughout the ages.

This also meant that the reconstruction was seen as a provocation by parts of the Arab population, who protested the re-opening, claiming that it was the start of a campaign to conquer Jerusalem on behalf of the Jewish people, eventually leading to Israel destroying landmarks of Arab presence in the city.

For others, however, the reconstruction meant recovering a missing piece of the puzzle that is Jewish history. The old synagogue was a symbol of Jerusalem itself, and many later synagogues around the world were modelled on its neo-byzantine design. Getting it back, meant that a memory once again became reality.

This blog is mainly about architecture, not politics, but it's interesting to see how the erection of a building has very different meanings, depending on who you're asking. The Hurva Synagogue is also a prime example of how important historical buildings and cities are to our identities, even when they are (almost) completely rebuilt.

The ruin, 1967

Interior of the building, clearly showing where parts
of the old ruin were incorporated in the new structure.

All pictures: Wikimedia Commons

FICTIONAL FRIDAY: IMAGINATIVE RECONSTRUCTION

Your task for the evening is a simple one: Google the words "imaginative reconstruction". Look. Read. Listen.

GROCERS' APARTMENTS or HOW TO LOOK FLIRTY AMONGST TIMBER FRAME BUILDINGS

As I hinted earlier, I recently went to Hamburg. One of the greatest places I visited, was also one of the smallest, a tiny street inside a complex called the Grocers' Apartments.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

On a tiny plot, this group of 17th century timber frame houses creates a world of its own, twisting and leaning and bending in all directions.

(Add some curly hair, oxfordesque attire and a hand on the chin, and you've accomplished what you wanted to, more or less.)

STREET OF FRIENDS

Erlend lived here.
The tram stop for Håkon's old apartment was here.
This was the street where I called Heidimarie and asked about the wonderful wine she and Erik served at their wedding.
This was where Petter and I met each other before he went to New York.
This is where I bought dinner today.
This was the street I walked up to go to Heidi's birthday party on the 20th July 2011, after which I caught a cold and decided to stay home for the weekend.
In Thereses gate I've walked home with Ole Thomas and Tamar after a night out.
In Thereses gate, I met Patrick by coincidence earlier this fall, after several years.
And in Thereses gate, Marta took this picture a morning when there, by some stroke of magic, was no one out, a morning earlier this summer.

Thank you!

KOWLOON WALLED CITY SECTION DRAWING

It seems most people have heard about Kowloon Walled City by now, except me. However, you may not have seen this drawing yet, so please enjoy.

Also, have a look at this great blog post and this series of pictures from the Daily Mail, and maybe even this documentary.

THE MAN IN THE WINDOW

Walking home from a great day spent with my friend Aina (Remember the girl with all the talent and charm?) and her cool little brother, I had to take a picture when I passed this great sight: An elderly man, just hanging out of his window in the sunshine, looking at people and cars passing by. I don't think he talked to the girls, but it seems he at least made eye contact with one of them.

I believe good architecture will do this to a city. Windows which open up wide encourages people to look out unto the outside and get some real sunshine on their skin. The wall is pierced by the sudden gap in the facade, and a potent meeting between private and public takes place. A road without too many cars is nice to look at, while the trees across tha road cast an interesting shadow. The street becomes a nicer and more interesting place to walk, and so a few people might choose to not take the car. Urban magic.

MIDNIGHT CITY (ARRIVAL IN HAMBURG)

Midnight City from M83 on Vimeo.


Waiting in a car.
Waiting for a ride in the dark.
The night city grows.
Look and see her eye, the glow.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for a ride in the dark.
Drinking in the lounge.
Following the neon signs.
Waiting for a roar.
Looking at a mutating skyline.
The city is my church.
It wraps me in the sparlking twilight.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for the right time.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for the right time.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for the right time.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for the right time.
Waiting in a car.
Waiting for a ride in the dark.

HEY GIRL

MYSTERIOUS COURTYARD

Isn't this the most wonderful backyard you've seen in a while? Not very classical, but very welcoming and charming, in some inexplicable way. The picture was taken earlier this summer in Grønland, Oslo, by a friend of mine who lives in one of the buildings surrounding it.

I'm not quite sure what the white, fog-cottonish stuff is, but Lina seems to believe it's pollen. I think it might be poplar seeds, but I'm not sure. Looks cool, though, don't you think?

JA

Back in Oslo for at least a year (and it feels great).

Picture taken on 13th August by yours truly. The word "ja" means "yes" in Norwegian (which supposedly is one of the easiest languages to learn for people with English as their native tongue).

MOMO

Have you ever read this wonderful book? A modern fable, dealing with such themes as time, modernity and life in the city, Michael Ende's classic also contains reflections on architecture, and descriptions of amazing rooms and spaces.

The text is, in most versions, accompanied by these pictures and many more, apparently made b Ende himself. They make the book come alive in a weird and charming way, and are an excellent example of how fictional imagery might extend the possibilities of architecture. The protagonist lives in an old Roman amphitheatre, and the book has been described by the author as "a tribute of gratitude to Italy".

It was also made into a film in 1986, featuring great and imaginative sets, often reminiscent of classical architecture. Here's a montage of clips from the film. Not my taste in music, but have a look anyway:




And read the book. And watch the whole film. It's all very beautiful.

MOVING THE PASSIVE HOUSE

Earlier today, I passed while this installation was being removed from one of the public places in the centre of Bergen. It's a passive house (basically a very energy efficient kind of building) that has been exhibited for some time now, and a few weeks ago, I went with my friend Vegar, who is also an architecture student, to see it. There is a huge debate about passive houses in Norway these days, because, although they spend very little energy, they are also very high-tech, and the techo-optimists and the eco-architects do not agree as to whether the quality of air inside a passive house is good enough.

This one is very small, but was fully equipped, and thus still interesting to see. However, the design was awful, with a door and the inside walls made out of a sort of cardboard (which can be really cool, but in this case was used for) imitating wood, and cheap, ugly moulding. Also, the air inside smelled of fart. Needless to say, we were not quite convinced, and I can't say I'll be missing it.

ON WORKING CONDITIONS FOR THE CRAFTSMEN OF MEDIEVAL ARCHITECTURE

FACEBOOK 101

Yesterday, this blog's Facebook page reached 101 likes! As you can see, 92 of them are friends of mine, most of whom were probably invited by yours truly. Still, I think this is fun. I joined Facebook in 2006, and I use it almost every day to connect with friends and co-workers, learning new things, and finding out about real-life events. In this way, the "social network"actually works almost like a well-connected city, with more or less rounded blocks of homes, stores, offices, restaurants and cultural scenes.

In this amazing map of Facebook friendships made by Paul Butler, you can see how large parts of the world are interconnected using this powerful network. I, for one, com from Norway, but have connections going to such far-off places as Kenya, Colombia, South Africa and Bangladesh. Read more about how the map was made in this short and interesting article.

Finally, a picture of a well-connected city, for comparison. Bologna in 1640:

May both the world and its cities become increasingly interconnected in the years to come!

THE FUTURE ACCORDING TO TOR

Made by a friend of mine, I like how this video suggests that things are going in the right direction, and architects may have a role in finding the way.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF FRIENDS

My friends Terry and Maurice are currently visiting from Kenya, and on Tuesday our friend Heidi joined us for a day of hanging out in my hometown Drammen, having fun, eating food, taking pictures and looking at cool architecture.

This rather fabulous picture was taken in the garden of Gulskogen Manor, a wooden summer residence built for the Arbo family at the end of the 18th century. Designed to resemble European stone architecture and painted in a sand-beige colour, the house is set in a magnificent garden, with rows of trees, big lawns, duck ponds, small canals with bridges, granite stairs, herb gardens, a maze and dozens of birds, including peacocks.

Last image by Heidi Leona Norum.

MUSIC FOR STAIRWELLS

An old favourite of mine: "Hard Knock Life" from the 1982 film "Annie", based on the musical by the same name. I don't know if these are just sets or if the building is real, but those girls sure can sing and dance! Best movie choreography of all time.