Modernism was said to have died in 1972 with the demolition of the Pruitt-Igoe housing development. Well, many events since seem to contradict that declaration, one of which came as recently as last month with the announcement that the French architects Anne Lacaton & Jean-Philippe Vassal have been awarded this year’s Pritzker Prize. The committee brief states the two’s practice "renews the legacy of modernism." But this must be a reformed modernism, not the same movement that celebrated such starkness, such overdetermined streetscapes, and facades of mid-twentieth-century design. In fact, the entire tabula rasa methodology has yielded to a strategy today that is more gentle, one that emphasizes context and historical juxtaposition.
Lacaton and Vassal, indeed, embody that new definition. For them, demolition is "an act of violence." For decades, the two have worked on projects that not only uphold utopian ideals but enable a renewed appreciation for that which is often overlooked or ignored. The project that may best identify the gulf between old guard ideology and contemporary ideas is their Cité du Grand Parc in Bordeaux, a group of poorly aging housing blocks. Drab and dated, one could imagine an argument that the towers share the same fate as those of the Pruitt-Igoe development. But what actually occurred was a subtle, yet revelatory, transformation of the space. The architects maintained the existing structure, adding a second facade composed of modular components including polycarbonate panels, creating a generous addition in the form of a winter garden for each apartment. Residents were able to stay in their homes during construction, displacing no one.
This approach, one that values that which already exists, ultimately speaks to the lack of ego present within Lacaton and Vassal’s work. But it also speaks to their consideration and respect for materials. By maintaining the existing structure and performing a simple addition to its facade, the budget was economical, but just as vital, the carbon footprint of the project was minimal compared to that of a demolition and rebuild. As we confront the age of the Anthropocene, it is essential to address the formal decisions made by the architect and the role materials play in the development of an architectural work.
As we confront the age of the Anthropocene, it is essential to address the formal decisions made by the architect and the role materials play in the development of an architectural work.
The construction industry accounts for almost forty percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, 11 percent of which comes from the embodied carbon of materials utilized to construct a building¹. Embodied carbon refers to the amount of GHGs that were used to generate, transport, construct, and maintain a given material as well as its intended lifespan and the method of disposal upon removal from the site. Until recently, this figure was frequently overlooked, despite serving as a critical metric by which we can strive to reduce total GHG emissions. Under these conditions, architects may reform the material selection process by prioritizing durability and sustainability over aesthetics.
Cross-laminated timber has received the most attention for such efforts. With sustainable forest management, monitored by agencies like FLEGT, the industry can provide a secure source of timber from regions that support good forest management of a building material that sequesters carbon. Waste reduction is also key. ByBlock, a company that shreds plastic waste and compacts it into structurally stable building blocks, helps increase the use of recycled materials, reducing its proliferation across the environment. Newer technologies, like 3D-printed construction, can be paired with older techniques, like straw or hemp insulation, which—unlike wood—are annually renewable. During the building process, modular units create less on-site waste and typically allow for efficient and fast assembly, which enables greater flexibility for reconfiguration of the structure as its uses evolve over time due to changing societal ambitions and climate realities.
Calculating embodied carbon is a necessary step in the transformation of the built environment, but it can be a complex process that requires transparency across multiple stakeholders. The exact numbers can be challenging to pinpoint, and given that the 2020s are the essential decade to 'get things right' in order to avert total climate catastrophe, we may need to alter the manner in which we conceive of projects altogether.
With hope, we can imagine the architecture of the iconic is a fading era and the 'starchitect' a role of the past.
The scale of human development globally, by some estimates, accounts for more than fifty percent of the habitable land on the Earth’s surface². The bulk of this is devoted to agriculture, which has devastating impacts on local ecosystems, including the continued destruction and degradation of forested areas around the world³. While these typologies may not traditionally fall under the jurisdiction of the architect, they are human-designed (or undesigned) ecologies that merit our attention.
Of course, it is too early to know the historical direction of current architectural trends overall. With hope, we can imagine the architecture of the iconic is a fading era and the 'starchitect' a role of the past. If the last year alone has taught us anything—the pandemic, the movement for Black Lives, the intensifying climate crisis—it is that we must collectively and individually build a more equal, more sustainable, and more resilient future. The built environment, and the agents who work to manifest it, are not to be excluded from this endeavor.
We don’t know how this new future looks yet. Many places may not need overbearing interventions but rather small actions that reframe a space, activate a site, and unleash its potentialities. Sometimes, the best intervention is to do nothing at all. Less is more comes to mind. Though, today, as we come closer to the brink of ecological collapse, less is enough⁴ may serve as a more appropriate axiom for our times.
9 Comments
(Noooooooo!)
just look at that ridiculously large car...
I love that traditional sports bar with like 20 tv screens
what your photo shows is that you dont really know what people want (I guess that is your point in the end?). Most people want a comfortable life and while they can enjoy great architecture - modernist or neo-classical or whatever - they are also pretty happy with stuff that mostly gets the job done. FWIW, ornamentation is not really a pressing question anymore. Most contemporary architects today are quite happy with using it. Just look at Adjaye or Kere!
Your right.
Modernism didn't die with Pruitt-Igoe, and neither did horrifically bad design or idiotic blanket assements of design movements.
If modernists can't save the relatively small percentage of modern buildings worth saving what hope is there? Modernism will have died when they finish tearing this down. Pruitt-Igoe was never alive to begin with.
Frei Otto knew how to do it right all along. Lacaton and Vassal collaborated with him, too. Dreaming of a treehouse - the ecological housing project of Frei Otto in Berlin - video Dailymotion
Very insightful link. Germany has done incredible work in interstitial values through Architects including Sauerbruch & Hutton.
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