SNOW IN FLORIDA

Perhaps you know this very well, but there is a place called Celebration, a small town in Florida, built by the Walt Disney Company. An early example of New Urbanism put into practice, the people in this town seem to be living (that's right, they live there for real) on the very edge of reality as we know it. The idea of letting it snow in Florida is rather surreal by itself, but accompanied by music and voices seeming to come from nowhere in particular, it's beyond weird, seen with my European eyes.

And on the other hand: What if this works for the people who live there? Celebration is a walkable town, and people make real friendships there, just by passing each other by on porches or the sidewalks. At least it's an alternative to suburban sprawl, isn't it? And what are the alternatives? How much "real" traditional urbanism is there in the US?

I'd never live in Celebration, but perhaps we'll have to let fantasy play a bigger part in architecture when dealing with the need for reshaping society to meet the ecological crisis ahead. Is Celebration a definite answer? Absolutely not. Is it an interesting question? I would say yes.

COMPLEX BUILDING

Today was the start of our mini-diploma: the complex building course. Over the next three months, the class will be exploring, investigating and finally redesigning parts of Haukalnd University Hospital in Bergen, Norway. This is the concept sketch I presented:

Wish me luck!

SNOW CURTAIN

"Who needs ccurtains on the isle of Røst"? Photo taken yesterday by my friend Gaute Granlund, who is also the island's vicar.

THOMAS AND THE GOAT WILLOWS

My former classmate Thomas is the definition of sympathetic, and a rather clever tree-bender. At the beginning of our secound year, we joined forces in attacking a couple of goat willows with our braiding abilities and our sharp scissors, creating, as you can see, something looks like a rather nice tree, out of what used to be just a mess.

Last week, we followed up by not only re-pruning the first trees, but also making sense of several other bushy things of the kind which keep popping up around our school. I completely forgot to do a before-shot, but above, the reader may see what it looked like afterwards. Another shot below, with the sunset, Thomas, yours truly and the tree, in that order.

To find out more about creative bending, braiding an dpruning of living trees, check out Ivan Hicks' book Tricks with trees, of which I own a much-loved copy.

JOHANNE AND THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS

"Look at that! How incredibly beautiful! Oh my! I'm not that used to having cherry trees around, you know." - Johanne, ecstatically discovering the blossoming cherry trees at St. Olavs plass, Oslo. I love spring.

ROTUNDA

An impression of the year at The Rotunda in the grounds of the University of Virginia, designed by Thomas Jefferson and completed in 1826.

THE HEADMISTRESS' SONG

Young Dreams from Young Dreams on Vimeo.

This weekend, I attended a seminar arranged by my alma mater, Bergen School of Architecture. The topic was the architect education of the future, and loads of interesting questions were raised. One of the moments I'll remember the best, however, was the opening, where our headmistress (principal/rector/leader whatever you prefer) Marianne Skjulhaug played this very cool and aesthetically pleasing music video from the band called Young Dreams.

The video was taped in a house called Planetveien 12, built by the great Norwegian architect Arne Korsmo for himself and his wife, the artist Grete Prytz Kittelsen. Architect  Ragnhild Jordtveit Kristiansen, who writes the blog "Mine venners hjem" says in her blog post about the house that "Planetveien is a dream of glass, concrete and teak, with specially designed and built-in furniture and surprising and original solutions". Read the blog post and watch the video (in full screen).

RAIN

Have you ever considered just how beautiful a group of tents can be, especially at a time when the rain has been falling very heavily, but is slowly leaving, and the sun is starting to shine through?

Picture taken summer 2004 at Utøya.

<3

GRAY DAY

I can't believe the month that just passed was May, and not October. Today is another gray, cold day in Bergen.

GARDENING SEASON!

CHILDREN IN THE CITY

"I can never imagine it's good for a child grow up in the city."

Never say never. Walking home from school today I met a six year old or so girl who was beatboxing while carrying a branch of cherry blossoms, probably picked off one of the strees in our street. I can't know for sure, but she seemed cool enough.

WEEPING BEECH

Picture from Oslo, taken by yours truly with a single-use camera last summer. The weeping beech, Fagus sylvativa 'Pendula', hereby highly recommended.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

For unto us a child is born (and He doesn't want you to drive your car everywhere).

Transit-oriented gingerbread house by the Center for Neighbourhood Technology.

ICE PHENOMENON

The last time I walked up to the area I'm designing a building for, I took a picture of this beautiful, fascinating phenomenon that I have yet to discover the name of. I like it anyway.

SUMMER FAREWELL

It's over. When this picture was taken in Copenhagen in July, however, it wasn't. But there will be no more warm stones under your feet in the city. No more feeling the micro-landscape of the stone floor because you don't have to wear shoes. No more grass as green as old copper roofs. No moore eating ice cream outside. No more bathing in the ocean and feeling your hair become stiff with salt while you're drying in the open air. No more seedlings emerging where you wouldn't expect them. No more fresh strawberries. Not here, not for now. Not until the year 2011.

GUERILLA GARDENING AGAIN

Another form of guerilla gardening, I suppose. The artist is Dolk. Speaking of guerilla gardening, I think we'll be planting bulbs around the city quite soon. Let me know if you'd like to join.

SMELLS LIKE ARCHITECTURE

A week ago, I was walking around by myself in Copenhagen, taking pictures of houses, walking into other people's backyards and smelling the roses, when I passed this door. Discovering that there was a window in it, I just had to lean really close and look through it, to find out what was on the other side.

 

As I was looking through the glass (in which you can see a reflection of my finger taking the picture, by the way), however, I noticed that the window was not only beautiful and solidly carved to the shape of a laurel wreath, it also had a very nice smell. I'm not sure what kind of wood this is, but it looks a bit like oak. It could also be pine, which smells very nice as well. 

Anyway, I decided to take these pictures so I wouldn't forget that architecture isn't just about images or giving your stuff a cool look. I think its different elements have to stimulate as many senses as possible, including doors that give away a lovely smell in the summer sunshine when you lean close to them.

SUMMER SO FAR

This is more or less what the summer holidays have been like so far for me. My sister is sitting in a 78 year old 'Gravenstein' apple tree that still carries fruit and blossoms in spring, and is half covered by a climbing hydrangea (the tree, that is, not my sister, whose face by the way is covered by an apple tree branch, without that really being my intention when I took the picture). Although she looks quite relaxed, she was a bit scared, and would rather have returned to the books laying on the lawn under the tree.

Behind my sister and the tree is the house my great grandfather built here in 1932, in a mixture of arts and crafts and early functionalism. The architect is unknown, but I'm trying to find the drawings. It was built as a duplex house, almost a sort of mini apartment building, where the apartments shared the cellar, attic and stairway, but it is now a single-family home. The stones on the ground are shale, whereas the foundation wall is clad with granite.

The garden was redesigned by my parents and myself in 2007, and rebuilt in 2008. The old apple tree is one of the few features remaining of the old garden. The pergola over the wooden terrace was by idea when I was around 13 years old, and designed in collaboration with a friend of my father, who also built it.

LILACS!

Photo by Mathilde Rønning

Sometimes, Bergen can be just like this. The sun is shining, the lilacs are bursting into bloom and their exquisite smell complements the white painted old wooden houses while I look skinnier than I really am.

IT'S THE SUN!

Yesterday was the first day of summer in the calendar, and a day filled with sun. I have some major design work to do this week, as the presentation of our final project for the first year is to be ready by Sunday evening, but after that, vacation starts.