Pathways | Precedents |
Creating a narrative pathway. No building exists separate of the landscape in which it sits. Architecture needs landscape. Our experience of architecture is affected by how we view the architecture within the landscape and how we perceive the landscape from within the building. How we approach a building can be as important to the experience of architecture as the building itself. By manipulating the visitor’s approach we can change how they view the importance or significance of the building. Do we wish the building to take precedence over its surroundings, to be dramatic, authoritative, or do we want to present it as an oasis, or an inviting haven or sanctuary, or merely a convenient shelter? How the visitor approaches the building will impact on how it is perceived. Approach to Banrock Wine and Wetland Center Narrative SequencesOne word after another in a sentence. One event after another in a story. One element after another in a landscape. We can think of an approach to a building as a narrative pathway. Narratives are stories. According to Roland Barthes, the basic components of storytelling are "the units whose function it is to articulate in various ways a question, its response and the variety of chance events which can either formulate the question or delay its answer" (Barthes 1974, 17). For a landscape to have a narrative it too must possess these qualities. It is possible to use the brutality of architectural intervention in the landscape as a means of confrontation, but it can also be reduced by methods of adaptation and masking. This can be achieved through a variety of ways through revealing and concealing, via masking and unmasking, transparency and secrets. Secrets, transparency, and masking/unmasking each create specific relations between the author and the reader. (Potteiger, 1998, 135) PrecedentsThree examples of landscapes which can be considered narrative sequences are Melbourne’s City Link Gateway designed by Denton Corker Marshall, the Storm Surge Barrier by Adriaan Geuze and the Parc de la Villette by Bernard Tschumi. Melbourne’s City Link Gateway The City Link Gateway
"Melbourne’s City Link Gateway marks its north entrance form the new ring road linking the Tullamarine Freeway with the Westgate Bridge. The ensemble comprises a monumental beam and a line of 39 30-metre sticks cantilevered at precarious angles; a concrete sound barrier raking 15 degrees back and forth along the freeway, and a 300 metre-long ‘sound tube’ enclosing an elevated road. Cities used to have walls, not only for defence but to separate the urban from the non-urban realm. The City Link Gateway
Entry to the city was through a gate left open during daylight hours and closed at night. Like all thresholds, the gate baccate an important focus for activities other than acts of arrival or departure. Although the industrial Revolution changed the form of cities, the schema of wall and gate remains embedded in our subconscious… Contemporary cities have no walls or gates. Boundaries are blurred and the point of entry is unclear. Is it the airport? Or is it the freeway from airport to downtown? But the schema persists. Testament to this is the hackneyed appending of "gate" to the names of commercial developments – Southgate, Westgate, Anygate… Denton Corker Marshall has deconstructed the schema and reconstructed it north of downtown Melbourne at the confluence of several important routes-Flemington Road, Tullamarine Freeway from Melbourne Airport, Moonee Ponds Creek and the connection to the new City Link freeway system." The City Link Gateway "This gate is a dynamic choreography of sinuous ‘DCM orange’ wall opposing a line of inclined tall, skinny, red sticks. A huge yellow beam cantilevers over all of this at an alarmingly awkward angle. Weaving through the composition are ribbons of freeway, one of which leads though a glimmering, elliptical bridge tunnel called ’the sound tube’. Designed to be experienced at 100kph, the ensemble works equally well coming and going. From the north, at the Brunswick Road exit, the freeway curves to reveal the city skyline seconds before the red sticks hove into view, enfilade, connected at the top to the yellow beam forming, for an instant, a portal. Seconds later, the thin red line breaks into its constituent pieces, the beam separates (becoming a boom) and the orange slash of wall appears. In the thick of the threshold, the apparently single line of sticks becomes two, the latter’s feet set in an elliptical pool-a retarding basin made into art. The City Link Gateway
The entry is pure cinema. Fragments seen form the surrounding streets mark the place as special. At night, the white-lit sound tube hovers above Flemington road like a flying saucer in a B-grade 1950’s sci-fi movie. The scale of the piece is monumental; its composition simple and astonishingly assured. Although abstract, with its roots in Lissitsky, it is figuratively powerful in its evocation of archaic urban memories of entrance and contemporary artefacts like power poles and boom gates. Although the experience of driving the freeway may have an aesthetic dimension, the freeway’s primary purpose is instrumental. So it is with the City Link system. But this place, this moment of pure aesthetic pleasure may be City Link’s greatest gift to Melbourne." Text and Images, Styant-Browne, A., Arrivista, Architecture Australia, v88, n3, 1999, pp.59-65 Oosterschelde Storm Surge Barrier The Oosterschelde Storm Surge Barrier Geuze "created an enormous plateau. The idea was that when you drive there, "you are `launched' by your momentum and then, suddenly, on a 10-metre level, you watch this incredible panorama of the sea and understand what is happening: you are going through the Oosterschelde, the estuary. Of course, the client did not understand that, but we had a more intelligent proposal." Presentation Drawing for the Oosterschelde Storm
Surge Barrier The plateau is covered by bands of black and white shells. "Shell is a waste material which can be obtained at no cost in these areas from the shell-producing industries. Moreover, we insisted on two types of shells: mussels and cockles, which are blue and white. We know that when you cover such a plateau -- a flatland covered with shells -- a bird colony will appear immediately. That was our bright idea beforehand, but it is tested and proven now. Black birds really prefer black surfaces, because they cannot be seen by predators. As white birds prefer white surfaces, you understand that we used those two colours to make a sort of living Zen garden out of these birds. When you shape and play with the pattern of black and white in a garden, you play with the species of birds as well. …you see how we played with the shell pattern in relation to the car speed. You have to understand that those areas can only be seen by cars. You don't go biking there. It is too big. Presentation Drawing for the Oosterschelde Storm
Surge Barrier This is why the perception of a driver is really important. When driving over or through those plateaus, you are facing a rhythm of black and white shells and black and white birds…. Here we see the plateau covered with black shells, mussels, and with machines. Then come the white shells and this was the final result. This is really Dutch -- all the ditches with frocks of lines or reeds, and then you have the cows, which are the Dutch antelopes, also in lines. Our landscape is ordered like that. I think ecology and human beings really interact in a very intelligent way. Here, we see what happens when you drive there.This is at approximately the speed of a car. And the most beautiful thing happens at night. The shells gleam and shine, illuminated soley by the traffic. The night there is really black. Only cars bring light. In my view, this project is a beautiful example of relation of technology -- the citizen speeding along in a car -- with the ecology of the Delta." Text and Images: Geuze, Adriaan, "Black and White", Doors of Perception found at http://www.doorsofperception.com/doors/doors3/transcripts/Geuze.html Parc de la Villette The final precedent to consider is that of the Parc de la Villette by Bernard Tschumi. "Over one kilometer long in one direction and seven hundred meters in the other, La Villette appears as a multiple programmatic field, containing, in addition to the park, a large Museum of Science and Industry, a City of Music, a Grande Halle for exhibitions, and a rock concert hall. Tschumi’s winning scheme had been conceived as a large metropolitan venture, derived from the disjunctions and dissociations of our time. It attempted to propose a new urbanistic strategy by articulating concepts such as "superimposition," architectural "combination" and "cinematic" landscapes. Tschumi described the Park as "the largest discontinuous building in the world."
Text and Images: Resource received from http://www.tschumi.com/2frame.htm on the 24th November 2000) |
© 2001 Adelaide University