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.

LYNGDALIAN HOUSE

Visiting a friend of mine in Lyngdal, Southern Norway a few weeks ago, we stumbled across this weird and wonderful house and garden, lying peacefully next to the road. I doubt that an architect lives here, but the people who do, have taken their liberties in creating something unusual, adding both a small tower and miniature italianate box planting in the middle of the Norwegian agricultural landscape. I can't help but love when people take control of their surroundings in this way, often creating something unique and infinitely charming as they go along.

FICTIONAL FRIDAY: DUSSO'S THEED

This amazing image is the work of Yanick Dusseault, and depicts the city Theed of the planet Naboo in the Star Wars universe. Naboo is known for its combination of advanced techonology with classicish (my word) architecture.

The focus is on Theed's large royal palace, which supposedly had another tower added by each new monarch, to show his or hers... er... capability. Or something. Looks bloody beautiful, anyway.

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.

FICTIONAL FRIDAY: PARALLEL UNIVERSE SWEDEN

Somewhere, in a not-too-different world, you'll find this slightly absurd house, standing somewhere in the Swedish countryside. Why does it look the way it does? How did it come to be that way? It's great, like something that has grown naturally over time, but I'm not very sure how it would seem in real life.

Anyway, be sure to visit the brilliant webpage of artist Simon Stålenhag for more of this strange and captivating vision.

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?

JIM KAZANJIAN AND THE ARCHITECTURE OF THE SURREALLY POSSIBLE

The works of artist Jim Kazanjian, these amazing pictures are compiled from images of buildings found online. Although dreamlike and amazing, what I like the most about them, is that the majority of these structures actually could be built. I truly wish contemporary architecture was more like this.

VISUAL STRUCTURE FILM

Almost three years ago, I wrote a short post explaining about our particular academic discipline at BAS, called visual structure. Today, I was made aware of this video, showing an assignment usually done in Decembre first year, where uniformly coloured geometric shapes are given a contrasting treatment of different colours in non-geometric patches. The idea is that you should be curious to find out what the next side of the shape looks like, so that you'll be intrigued to look all the way around it. Quite charming video, and I think it expresses this concept clearly.

PRESENTATION

Today was my first presentation about architecture at BAS without drawings or models. I was presenting my essay concerning sustainability and the use of local materials, showing mostly pictures and telling about my findings and my views, and the response was good. I've done loads of presentations before, but this one was the first about architecture in a theoretical perspective, so I was a bit nervous. All the more rewarding when people came up to me afterwards and told me that it was exciting and focused!

The picture is of the village of Rocamadour in France, a great example of how the use of local materials (in this case limestone from the cliff on which the village itself stands) can result in "an unrestrained harmony", to quote the essay. (Ha ha, I'm so pretentious!) Picture credits: Wikimedia Commons.

EVENING SCHOOLYARD

I had actually forgotten how good I feel when spending my nights at school.

THE ERECHTEION

Today, I started reading about the Erechteion of Athens (ca. 405 BC), after being reminded of the existence of this strange and wonderful building just a few days ago.

Although mostly known for its caryatids, this structure in my opinion deserves just as much attention for it complex and non-symmetrical approach to the architectural language it works within, what we now call classicism.

After some quick googling, I found out that an amazing new digital reconstruction project is going on, which already has a very interesting website, where I stole these pictures (Thanks, guys!), and will be featured in a future documentary. The website has several trailers, pilots and 3D animations, which for some strange reason have not been published on neither Youtube nor Vimeo, but are very interesting and worth looking at nonetheless.

I'm looking forward to learning more about this interesting and, according to the people in it, potentially revolutionary project.

THE UNIVERSE AS SEEN FROM UTØYA ISLAND

If you look long enough, you'll see how the trees spell out the word 'love'.

PINE HORIZON

You might have heard of the pines of Rome, but what about the pines of Skjeberg?

As some old readers may have noticed, I'm very much concerned with how the architecture we create, meets the sky. In nature, the horizon is never boring, but in architecture, it often is. So maybe, the next time you're out there shaping a part of your fellow citizens' horizon, in the shape of a roofline, a garden or a tree-lined street, and you think it looks too simple, maybe you should consider using a pine? They grow into all kinds of shapes and sizes, smell nice, and produce cones than are fun to play with.

As for the picture, it looked better the way it was taken, a bit tilted, and depicts me and my friend Freja-Lina in between all the pines.

SAMUEL LIMA AND THE MONUMENTAL RAMPS

I've been interested in the combination of stairs and ramps for quite a while now. In an earlier post (Fun fact: My second most popular post of all time, with 2192 individual views) I described and showed a design where a ramp was transplanted into a flight of stairs next to a very small park in Oslo. I've employed the same technique in a public space project at school, but I also find other solutions to be interesting.

By mere coincindence, I found the blog of architect (student?) Samuel Lima from the University of Notre Dame in Indiana. A talented drawing artist and designer, all his work has a very classical look, including this project for a new "National Museum of Science and Technology" for a site in Washington DC.

What is less traditional, however, is the incorporation of two huge, symmetrically placed ramps on the main facade. They seem to be made out the same material as the rest of the building, and follow the rhythm of the architecture in a way that actually seems to work very well. I don't know if there were any precedents, or if he just pulled this out of his sleeve. He definitely solves the problem in an interesting manner, but I do that wish people who sit in wheelchairs or for other reasons need to use the ramps, could join the other guys in hanging out in what is sure to be a very friendly and informal space on and around the landing in the middle of the stairs.

A cool feature in the plan is how the use of colour signals a transition from pavement, in a sandstone-like tone, towards the building itself, in white, perhaps illustrating the change from very public to slightly less public, or how a ramp can feel like a street and a part of building at the same time.

Another question this project raises, is whether we actually need to build entrances and stairs like these. Lima wrote in an email to me: "During the design critique, the accessibility of both my design as well as well as my classmates' designs was a hot topic. The jurors debated whether or not monumental stairs have a place even in the most monumental buildings."

Some people seem to think of these sort of stairs as nice and a bit out of the ordinary places to sit down and meet others, while other people may think they are just an expression of power. (I'm in the first group, but I think many of my teachers at BAS are in the second.) They also take up a lot valuable space in the city, which has to be justified in one way or another. However, if we do need them, I think it's very appropriate to incorporate ramps as well, as a part of universal design, although that takes up even more space. What do you think?

NICHE

Is the wall you're designing flat and boring? A window or door or climbing plant would be out of place? Why not try a niche, like this marble one, to be found in the courtyard of Istabul's Blue Mosque? With the word deriving from Latin nidus, meaning nest, the architectural niche has been around for about 2000 years, and still works as a way to break up monotony, disperse light and shadow in different ways, house books or statues or birds, create a warm and sheltered space in the sun, or just remain empty and, if you're very lucky, once in a while being occupied by cute girls eating turkish delight.

COLONIAL ARCHITECTURE

Can be nice, but sometimes it just looks weird. 

(Azania Front Lutheran church, Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania)

SAND CASTLE

On my second visit to the city of Mombasa, last week, I decided it was time to build a sand castle again, as I hadn't done it in more than ten years. It's always interesting to explore typologies, and at least in Norway, it seems to me that almost any building that has a tower and isn't made of wood, will sooner or later be called a castle. Nothing more needed? What is a castle, really?

I chose to make mine with a few central towers, some smaller ones around it, and originally, a courtyard surrounded by even more towers. However, the sea soon started devouring the courtyard, and by the time I started taking pictures, more than half of it was gone.

In the technique I use, you need to dig a hole in the sand until you reach the water level. The sand you already dug out, is used to make the underlying structure, be it cone-shaped, long and flat, with a circular or square courtyard, or others. You then take a handful of the sand-water mixture, and let it slide between your fingers to form towers, walls, openings and whatever you want. This technique gives the rounded shapes, and Wikipedia describes it as "dribbling" or making "drip castles".

If you build it too close to either the sea or your little man-made lake, parts of the structure will soon begin to fall. Adapt and fix as you go along.

And, finally, realise it when it's time to abandon your creation and let it return to nature.

SIMPLE

Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler. - (Probably) Albert Einstein

COURTYARD HOUSE

Last Saturday, we went out of Nairobi to the town of Thika to visit a friend. It was a beautiful day with loads of sun, and as we walked around, we passed the usual mix of old colonial arcade houses, modern apartment buildings made of concrete and food booths in the shape of Coke bottles.

When we arrived at our friend's house, I was very surprised that the rather normal looking facade was concealing this beautiful courtyard.

True, it was simple, and very small, in fact the smallest courtyard I've ever seen, but the light was pouring down in the middle and was being reflected by the bright colours, the gallery surrounds were providing shadow to rest in, while people were washing clothes, talking, playing music and enjoying the  fresh air.

Maybe this way of designing houses is more common than I thought, only I'm not able to see it from the outside?

UNKNOWN TREE

While we were staying in Mombasa, there was a tree growing outside the gates to our hostel. It had lots of  orange flowers and green blobs that might have been either fruits or buds.

I find the shapes of these flowers to be very interesting. I think it might be the unfolding that makes them look so cool, maybe because there seems to be so much movement in a things that's more or less standing still. I blame the nice curves.

Oh, and I have no idea what the tree is called, so if you do, please tell me.