Isamu Noguchi

“to be hybrid is to be the future”

The art world, unfortunately, has a certain reputation for snobbery. Everything that is deemed as ‘art’ must, of course, be well thought out, aesthetically intriguing and completely unaffordable for anyone who isn’t part of ‘the rich’. Anything that is actually affordable for people who aren’t part of that income bracket is deemed as ‘low art’. Low art is defined as “for the masses, accessible and easily consumable.”

Over the years this definition has often been criticised alongside the common phrase “art for art’s sake” which was born from definitions like these and “is so culturally pervasive that many people accept it as the “correct” way to classify art.” Thus, it is rather surprising to see such definitions being alluded to in reviews of Noguchi’s exhibition at the Barbican as the artist himself was not a proponent of “art for art’s sake” according to Barbican curator Florence Ostende.

Japanese American designer and sculptor Isamu Noguchi was of “the most experimental and pioneering artists of the 20th century”. His exhibition at the Barbican displays over a hundred and fifty works from his career which spans over six decades and explores his life, work and creative method. The best way to describe him is a ‘creative polymath’ as his work straddled a multitude of disciplines.

The exhibition itself is on two levels and upon entering the space you are directed upstairs. This first section is divided into spacious alcoves and display different periods of the artists work. There is a slight feeling of disconnect here and one finds oneself peering over the railing to the floor below, which appears from above far more engaging. However, this part of the exhibition provides an important overview for those who are not so familiar with Noguchi’s work. It maps the artist’s collaborations with the likes of Brâncuși, Martha Graham and R. Buckminster Fuller, in addition to charting Noguchi’s activist work, protesting racist lynchings, America’s internment of its Japanese American citizens during World War II, and fascism.

However, it is on the first level that the exhibition becomes a real delight, a rambling hodgepodge of stone and metal sculptures and his world-famous Akari lamps that makes one itch to play amongst this minimalist wonderland. Noguchi was committed to creating accessible public art and playgrounds, or playscapes, were a fascination for him. He designed these playgrounds as a way to “encourage creative interaction as a way of learning.” Indeed this interest in play and playfulness is echoed in the exhibition’s main space.

The star of the show is certainly the Akira lamps handing like softly glowing space ships, seemingly emerging from the floor like some strange luminous creature and arranged in clumps like brightly coloured mushrooms. Noguchi designed them after visiting struggling post-war Japan as a way to revitalise the economy. He took the Japanese bamboo and rice paper lanterns and modernised them as a way to bring industry back to the war-torn country.

These lamps became popular in Britain in the sixties and are still available, albeit in a slightly changed form, in IKEA. Because of this they are instantly recognisable and have led to some likening the Barbican exhibition to a ‘high-end lighting showroom.’ However, this brings us back to the discussion of ‘art for art’s sake.’  As I wandered around the exhibition I was drawn back to childhood memories of visiting B&Q with my parents, (they were the only shop in my hometown that had escalators and thus was an infinitely entertaining playground). Playground is the keyword here, I was allowed to roam the aisle alone in delicious freedom and explore this wonderland of light, metal, wood and a multitude of other textures, shapes and materials. To my childlike understanding, all of this was art. Interestingly Noguchi’s philosophy was rather similar. In creating the Akari lamps he aimed to “bring sculpture to everyday households”.

In our current environment of late-stage capitalism, Noguchi’s quiet and thoughtful philosophy’s on purpose, sustainability and environment are perhaps exactly what the art world needs. He saw commercial forms of design “as a way of escaping the art market and working with more freedom and fewer constraints.” While we might criticise the society we live in unfortunately we must still exist within it, however Noguchi “believed in the idea that even in mass-production, individuality is still possible.”  We must adapt and innovate within the framework we have because after all, to quote the artist, “to be hybrid is to be the future.”

Credits

Images · Isamu Noguchi
Noguchi at the Barbican is open from Thu 30 Sep 2021 —Sun 9 Jan 2022. For more information visit https://www.barbican.org.uk/whats-on/2021/event/noguchi
 

Photos

  1. Portrait of Isamu Noguchi, American sculptor, the latter’s special assistant planner, July 4, 1947 in New York City. (Photo by Arnold Newman Properties/Getty Images)
  2. Bronze plate
  3. Noguchi, Isamu (1904-1988): Humpty Dumpty. 1946. Ribbon slate. Overall: 59 ◊ 20 3\4 ◊ 17 1\2in. (149.9 ◊ 52.7 ◊ 44.5 cm). Purchase. Inv. N.: 47.7a-e New York Whitney Museum of American Art *** Permission for usage must be provided in writing from Scala.
  4. Terracotta and plaster

Aude Moreau

“I think what motivates my work is the word: privatisation”

Less is more or… is it? For visual artist Aude Moreau, whose works includes carpets of sugar that take up entire galleries or large scale installations that cut across the Toronto skyline, one cannot help think that ‘more’ is the grander option.

For the latter work, Moreau spelt out those same words “Less Is More Or” across the face of the Toronto-Dominion Centre’s skyscrapers. The buildings were designed by the German-American architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and Moreau twists his famous maxim ‘less is more’ leaving it open to interpretation when juxtaposed with his towering skyscrapers. “I wanted to revisit the interpretation of the evolution of modernism and the possibilities of what is to come . . . to say ‘what now?”

Moreau’s practice encompasses her dual training in the visual arts and scenography. The time she spends creating her works range from years of painstaking preparation for ambitious installations to more short term interventions. She “focuses a relevant, critical gaze upon showbiz society, the privatisation of the public space, and the domination of the State by economic powers in today’s world.” NR Magazine joined the artist in conversation.

Much of your work is realised on a very large scale, how do you deal with the practicalities of seeing such ambitious projects through to fruition? 

I think it was my dual training in visual arts and scenography and then the fact of having worked in cinema that allowed me to develop large-scale projects. The theatre and the cinema are fields that depend on a multitude of skills in order to create a work. Also, a large part of my job involves surrounding myself with a team that can help me achieve my projects. In that sense, I act a bit like a producer.

There is a political element to your work, do you consider it a form of activism? 

Activism demands clarity of message, transparency that excludes contradiction or paradox. Art is polysemous. So I would say that it is ‘the political’ rather than politics that runs through my work.

Are there any particular concepts or inspirations which drive your creative process?

I feel like I often forget what guides me and at the same time always revolve around the same thing, without being able to name it completely. Each new project brings its own issues, its own context. Right now, I think what motivates my work is the word: privatisation. It is a term that we associate with economic vocabulary, but which, in its polysemy, describes complex realities which affect the ideological relations of our time. The criticism of the “spectacle”, the structures of power, the activation of already existing places, the ephemerality of the works, are various anchor points stated in the 70s and have nourished my practice.

Sugar can be quite a difficult substance to work with as it tends to clump together with even the slightest bit of moisture in the air. With Tapis de Sucre, was this an issue and if so did you try to stop it from hardening or did you consider the change in materials as part of the artwork?

I was not confronted with this reality during the “Sugar Carpet” installation. There have been several editions of the work in different contexts. I think it’s because the industry takes care of this kind of problem through different methods, including adding emulsifiers like magnesium stearate.

However, once the installation is complete, each accident remains imprinted on the surface without altering the trompe l’oeil and the overall vision. The accidents that mark the surface bear witness to the life of the place and momentarily shatter the trompe-l’oeil. These stigmas refer to the fragility of the work. It is the reversal of the monumental and its spectacle which echoes the fragility of our presences that makes the work moving. Like an invitation to cross the trompe-l’oeil to catch a glimpse of the deadly reality of this industry, both in its historical production methods and in its consumption.

Architecture seems to play quite a large role in your artwork, why is that?

Probably because architecture plays a big role in our daily lives. It defines our habitats, structures our movements, testifies to our time and our way of thinking while talking about previous eras. It is silent but contains in itself the production contingencies of an era, and bears witness to the historical, political, economic, technical, cultural and ideological contexts that it emerged from.

In this sense, Gordon Matta-Clark’s cuts in architecture greatly interested and challenged me. And the reading of Dan Graham’s text which puts in dialogue the cuts in the architecture of Matta-Clark and the concept of transparency in Mies van der Rohe through the question of the penetration of light was a major trigger in the process of creating my skyscraper illuminations projects.

What was the most exciting project which you worked on? 

The last project « Less is More or ».

What was the meaning behind showing your own version of Mies’ famous maxim ‘less is more’ on the skyscrapers he designed. Was it irony or something more complex? 

In fact, I modify the sentence of Mies van der Rohe by adding the word “or” to complete the occupation of the four facades of each of the skyscrapers. This has the effect of inscribing the sentence in a loop. “Less is More or Less …” This lessening of the affirmation refers to “post-modern” semantics which, while criticizing the modernist project (the great utopias, the desire for a social architecture, etc.), defends the idea that all points of view are equal. However, this equivalence of individual points of view creates new norms and forms of alienation.

So, this is not ironic towards the architectural achievements of Mies van der Rohe, but ironic compared to the flattened world we live in. A constantly updated world that works to erase traces at the same time as it blocks the horizon by creating disproportionate surpluses. Surplus of images, data, storage, memories, codes, goods, plastics, fashions, tastes, opinions, etc.

What do you want people to take away from your artwork? 

Questions and the feeling that anything is possible.

What advice would you give to young creatives interested in creating large scale and ambitious works? 

I would say that the large-scale works do not necessarily require large resources. However, it requires persistence. The realisation of the projects can take several years, even decades. Therefore, it is essential to ask the question of the need for an occupation of space of this type and to find allies. This is particularly true for projects carried out in public space.

Are you working on any projects at the moment and what plans do you have for the future? 

Yes, I am working on my next exhibition which will take place in January 2022 at the Bradley Ertaskiran Gallery in Montreal. A new corpus that will bring together sculptural and two-dimensional works around the issue of melting ice. Inspired by a brief trip to the Rockies in Alberta, visiting the Columbia Icefield and especially the Athabasca Glacier. The geographic context is particularly significant given the proximity of the glacier and the oil industry in the province.

In the longer term, I would like to achieve “the Blue Line”, which is ongoing. This is an ambitious project, the idea of which germinated about 10 years ago, and which has gone through different phases of development without being completed to date. It is about drawing a line of blue light 65 meters high on the facades of 20 buildings bordering the East River in the Financial District of Manhattan. The height corresponds to that of the rising waters if all the ice on the planet melted. When I think about this project, I tell myself that it must be done now, there is a sense of urgency that rises.

Kliwadenko Novas

“innovation is not coming from technology but by having the chance of approaching the building process with more freedom”

Sweeping shots of golden arid landscapes, wild salty Pacific bays, and the rise of the rocky Andean mountains serve to juxtapose the modern architecture nestled in the wilderness. This is one of the documentaries by Kliwadenko Novas,  an audiovisual production company formed by Katerina Kliwadenko, a Chilean journalist, and Mario Novas, a Spanish architect. Since 2015 the duo has been developing an investigation into architecture and urbanism in Latin America, a region they have a special interest in due to its state of “constant crisis that forces it to reinvent itself.” In addition to this, they also focus their projects on “people capable of redrawing the limits of their disciplines and questioning what they do”. NR Magazine joined them in conversation about their work.

What was it specifically that inspired you to create these documentaries about architecture and urbanism in Latin America?

In 2014 we did a one year trip crossing the region starting from Guatemala to Southern Chile. This is a part of the world we really tried to get to know better. Having a common language that allows us to interact properly with everybody is a huge advantage in order to film and interview. This led us to develop a two-year-long research project on its contemporary architecture scene as an editorial work. This kind of matched with the 2016 Venice Biennial when the director has been Alejandro Aravena. There was this momentum of Latin America that attracted lots of views and we thought that the right format for portraying this project would be a documentary. The documentaries format enables a collective experience for viewers when they are screened and this helps to diversify the type of public it reaches. Otherwise, the traditional forms of publications are just consumed by architects.

You describe Latin America as a region in constant crisis. How do you think that affects architecture in these countries?

This means the future is somehow uncertain. Facing this, architects try to develop their profession in different ways, some of them really disruptive and radical. What we’ve found, when we discover some of the new lines of work like one from Al Borde in Ecuador, Solano Benitez in Paraguay or David Torres in Mexico, is that they enjoy architecture in a wider sense. On one hand, they are involved closely in the management of the construction which is an aspect that makes the profession really exciting, and on the other hand, they have to deal with such hard budget restrictions that the solutions have to be innovative. We see it as a change of the architects’ role which enables them to make architecture not only behind a computer screen, but by being on the construction site and related to their clients more closely.

You come from quite different backgrounds as an architect and a journalist respectively. How does that affect your collaborative process when creating these documentaries?

Us architects are often trained in school to express ourselves in quite a strange way. When you read the explanations of a project in the architectural media it sounds over intellectualised or over sophisticated and without any need. So having a journalistic approach means that the way we portray projects can reach the wider public.

I would say now, reading the question again, we are not as aware that we come from different backgrounds anymore. In our daily routine, we switch continuously from our role as a couple, to our role of teammates, and to the role of parents. And we are always trying to keep every sphere safe from the other-one.

Regarding the films, our creative process is really organic. We both carry out all the different phases, from the script to the editing, together.

Are there any new technologies that you are aware of which you think will change how architecture will be approached in Latin America in the future? 

In terms of new construction technology, you have to realise there are not the same as in Europe or in North America for the high budget buildings. Having such a high percentage of inhabitants who can not afford those kinds of constructions, I would say innovation is not coming from technology but by having the chance of approaching the building process with more freedom. Not having so many rules creates a really good environment to try to solve problems in an original way.

Your documentaries also focus on social issues in Latin America. Do you consider them as a form of activism that will help to shed light on, and bring attention to these issues?

We try to create documentaries with a positive approach that show how people solved certain aspects of their personal and local environments. We like to use those examples to show the public the act of taking care of local problems, no matter where you live. Because surely there are many things to solve and improve in our environment. Portraying architects who do it in their areas within their conditions and expertise is a way of saying that if they can, so can you, regardless of whether you live in Miami, Zürich or Melbourne. Ultimately it is about showing ways of coping with life.

In your documentary Do More with Less you explore housing issues for those living under the poverty line. By 2030 two billion people are expected to be living in slums, so you think that indigenous practices of building homes can be used to tackle issues like these in Latin America?

We think solutions have to come from local knowledge. Every part of the world is so different that in certain aspects indigenous practices could be part of a solution. If they did it over 500 years and it is still working, why not? But as I said, every case is different, so a way of facing these issues could be by creating structures to allow collaborative processes, where everyone can bring in their knowledge.

Which architectural project/work stood out to you the most in your work? 

I would say the SESC Pompéia, a project built in 1977 by Lina Bo Bardi in Sao Paulo. Everything you Google about this project, or from the work of Lina Bo Bardi will blow your mind.

What difficulties have you faced while creating your documentaries and how did you overcome those challenges? 

Acquiring funds is our biggest problem. So one way to solve this is to keep production and post-production budgets really low by doing most of the work ourselves. We are still looking for the right partners who can see the opportunity in joining in with these movies.

In a broad sense, how do you think architecture in Latin America differs from its North American and European counterparts?

As I said before, there are fewer rules especially in rural areas that affect the construction process. And, in general, Latin American governments do not provide an equal distribution of wealth. This creates a large economic gap in society that has to be effectively resolved in another way. In our opinion, these two factors are the origin of the architectural examples that interest us in this region.

What advice would you give to young creatives who are looking to get into the fields of documentaries/filmmaking and architecture?

The advice to learn by doing. Focusing on some local issues means they don’t need big production budgets to travel for the opportunity to start filming and editing. This is a way to find your own point of view and voice as creators, to develop an original and outstanding film. In the end, it is not specific advice for the field of architecture. We believe that it is a subject that can be portrayed from many angles so there is still much to discover.

Do you have any projects you are working on at the moment and what are your plans for the future? 

We released this year a six-episode series called Architecture On The Edge. Commissioned by Shelter, which is the only streaming platform focused just on architecture and design content, it is about six constructions located in remote scenarios of the Chilean landscape.

Now we are completing two interactive documentaries which are to be released by the end of this year. One, called Raw Land, portrays an education model capable of renewing the profession of the architect and the rural context in which it is held. A building process of an architecture student’s degree project settled down in Southern Chile, on a waste territory far away from the world. And Making Meaningful Things Happen on the Fuerte El Tiuna Project in Caracas, Venezuela. Portraying politics of the everyday through this 15 years old project as a form of resistance by proposing in such a polarised country.

Credits

Images · KLIWADENKO NOVAS

Nanometer Architecture

“It is important to have a feeling of love”

Architectural duo Yuki Mitani and Atsumi Nonaka are known for their minimalist architectural work under the moniker Nanometer Architecture. Taking inspiration from traditional Japanese design the pair focus on the smaller details when working on a project. “We believe that building an architecture is like a supplement for the ultimate goal, providing a place, proposing an event, and then inducing it to create an atmosphere.” NR Magazine joined them in conversation about their practice.

Nanometer is an interesting name, is there some kind of story or meaning behind it and how does it relate to your work?

The first letters of “n” (Nonaka) and “m” (Mitani) are connected to form “nm,” which is the symbol for nanometer. In the nano-world, the world is very different from the micro-world. Because it is so small and the specific surface area (volume/surface area) is so large, it becomes highly reactive, and the properties of the same substance can be changed if it is reduced to the nano level. The same material can change its properties if it is reduced to nano size. In other words, it is possible to manipulate a single electron.

Focusing on nanomaterials, we can move from top-down construction, where materials are scraped out of matter, to bottom-up construction, where atoms and molecules are assembled. They will be able to self-assemble like living organisms, without the waste materials that are scraped out. It will be a complete opposite approach to the way we have been producing things.

As I was researching this, I began to think that nanometers are close to our philosophy.

“We believe that the creation of buildings is like a supplement to the final goal and that the essence of providing a place, proposing an event, and inviting people to come afterwards is to create an atmosphere.”

With Nagoya flat, I imagine all the exposed concrete makes it quite a cool space to be in summer, but how did you tackle issues of insulation and heating for when it gets cold? 

I try to prevent cold air from entering through the gaps in the windows, I have gas heaters, and I put down carpets. We don’t have many cold days where it snows, so the heater is all we need.

The room was bare from the time we rented it in the first place. I didn’t want to spend that much money on a rental apartment, so I didn’t go as far as insulating the apartment for long-term living.

With Seaside Villa you had to take into account the effect of sea breezes on the property did you also have to consider issues of rising sea levels and how they might affect the property in years to come? 

We did not take into account the sea level rise. When the tide goes out, the beach will appear and the scenery will change, and people can play there. This site will not be rebuilt in the future because the ordinance has been changed to a place where new buildings cannot be built, so this architecture cannot be rebuilt either.

Where do you draw your inspiration from when working on a project? 

A lot of it comes from everyday experiences. It can be something you notice while casually walking around the city, an exhibition, a movie, a book, or a conversation with someone.

With PALETTE you particularly had to consider accessibility for those with disabilities is this something you also consider when working on other projects and has PALETTE changed how you approach issues like these in your work? 

In Japan, depending on the scale and use of the building, there are some things that are essential to consider. The degree of this depends on the project, but I think it is important to make it easy to use for all kinds of people.

House in Shima has a very open and welcoming design, considering how closely it’s located to a national park is this an intentional way to integrate its man-made structure with the surrounding nature.

It does not face a national park but is located in a national park. It is under the control of the Ministry of the Environment and had to be built with consideration for the landscape. For example, the colour of the exterior walls and roof, and the slope of the roof. In this way, the materials and colours naturally became closer to nature. The open design is more in accordance with the client’s request rather than in the park. The desire to live in nature with the windows open at all times and to have a barbecue all year round led to this open appearance.

What was the most challenging project you worked on and why? How did you overcome those challenges?

There are always difficulties in every project, so it is impossible to rank them.

Are there any new technologies within this industry that you are particularly excited about and how do you think they will change how to approach future projects?

3D scanning. If we can easily read the land and the inside of the building, the design will be more accurate.

What advice would you give young creatives looking to get started in this field?

Our efforts will always come back to us in some way. In any project, we face society and aim to improve the atmosphere of the world, even if only little by little. Many young people become frustrated because they think that they are not suited for this kind of work, but you cannot decide what you are not suited for.

“It is important to have a feeling of love and wanting to do something.”

Are you working on any projects currently and what plans do you have for the future? 

We are working on exchanges, housing complexes, detached houses, clinics, relaxation salons, etc. Since we moved our office to Sakae in the centre of Nagoya in February 2021, we would like to work on cafes, salons, apparel, bars, offices, etc. around the town where we work.

Credits

Images · Nanometer Architecture
https://nm-9.com/

DGN Studio

“Light is always the starting point for all our projects”

Founded in 2016 by Daniel Goodacre and Geraldine Ng, DGN Studio crafts customized objects and spaces informed by utility and the context of their surroundings – an approach to design that is instilled with a deep sense of care and attention to detail. The architecture studio aims to enhance the everyday living experience of their clients, and advocates for a carefully considered use of materials. 

The studio’s 2020 Concrete Plinth House project is located in the London borough of Hackney, where a dark Victorian semi-detached house has been transfigured into a sleek and leisurely brutalist-inspired home. The terrace is grounded on a dense concrete base, yet feels light and serene, featuring clean, minimalist surfaces. Commissioned by a young couple to transform the house into a modern family home, the project extended and opened the property to include lighter-touch renovations that show off the beauty of the materials used, such as concrete benches and wooden beams, all working in a simple aesthetic and functional harmony.

NR Magazine speaks with DGN Studio to get a deeper insight into their design values and to discuss the details of the project.

For this project you were tasked to create a versatile and leisurely space – what initially sprung to mind when you began to conceptualise the house? 

Making a space that could accommodate gatherings of different sizes seemed to require a degree of flexibility. We had conflicting thoughts at the outset. We wanted to make a space that could be used in different configurations, but also a desire to create something with weight and mass that felt very firmly grounded in the site. 

In the end the flexibility was achieved not by moving things around, but from being able to occupy the edges of the space – the steps, perimeter walls and benches which provide lots of options for how they might be used. This allowed us to really explore the feeling of permanence created by these various concrete surfaces and plinths. 

We also had an early idea about the timber frame as a kind of screen or filter between the interior and exterior spaces which in this instance seemed a more helpful concept than that of placing windows in a wall. 

What was your approach to working with the original features of the house? 

We wanted the new addition to resonate with the existing house in a subtle way, such that it could have a definite character of its own. 

The best rooms in the existing house had a tall proportion and we liked these spaces as distinct rooms that suggested specific purposes or activities. We wanted the new spaces and layout to maintain this feeling of a series of rooms while also opening up long views throughout the house, pulling light further in and creating a better flow through the spaces. The level changes in the floor and ceiling help distinguish the different ‘rooms’ of the new space. 

We paid attention to the details of the house such as door handles, window furniture, and curtain rails and commissioned Dean Edmonds to design bespoke pieces that sat comfortably in both the new and existing parts of the house. 

The sash windows running along the side elevation are a nod to the original glazing and add to the resonance between new and old. 

Were there any influences for the project? 

There is no overarching reference point – there are loads of influences that come in at different points of the project for specific reasons. Mostly it is about identifying a particular atmosphere that is right for the space. 

Developing the project is about navigating a course through the different parameters that emerge at each stage – starting from conversations with the client about their lives and desires, to their budget, planning restrictions, and then developing the details of how the building is put together with the skilled craftspeople who actually make it. All this time we are trying to hold onto that desired atmosphere and make sure that this still emerges at the end of a very long process.

You can really sense a harmony and a celebration of materials with the project- was this something that was particularly important for you? 

Absolutely – the material palette is really the stuff that the building is made from (predominantly oak and concrete). We were keen to keep the number of finishes relatively limited, and for the different materials to contribute to the serene atmosphere of the new space. 

We generally favour a relatively subtle material palette not because we don’t love colour, but because we tend to find that colour comes best from all the life that takes place inside the space rather than from what we have designed. The building is not the main event! 

How did you go about prioritising light and space with the project, especially in an older building and a tight urban site? 

Light is always the starting point for all our projects. How the sun moves around the site and how to choreograph spaces in relation to this. 

Extending a house can create problems with light due to the resulting depth of the plan so it’s really important to consider how the existing spaces will be affected. As a result, we have opened up views through the house so that you can see the garden from a number of locations and pull in as much light in as possible. There is also a considered contrast between light and dark spaces passing through the dark snug that sits between the living room at the front and the kitchen/dining room at the rear enhances.

We were also very conscious of not overexposing the interior, and the positioning of the glazed panels in the extension was carefully considered to get the balance of lighting right and to prevent the feeling of being in a goldfish bowl.

Were there any existing structures or materials that influenced the design? 

There’s a whole library of projects floating around in our heads – the ones that rise to the surface will depend on the client, the brief and the site. We also try to resist becoming diverted by all the things we’re looking at and trust our intuitions which are of course built on all the things we’ve seen and appreciated. 

How do you get inspired when starting a new project? 

There’s so much to draw from in any new project, no matter how small it may be – every site has its own history, and every client has their own unique story – trying to get under the surface of how the clients live (or would like to live) is really important and provides lots of starting points. 

We’re also really inspired by the city we live in and how it has developed over the centuries – just a bus ride through it is enough to generate a whole raft of ideas. Of course, inspiration often comes in more oblique ways through art objects, music, books, landscapes…

What’s your usual process in developing a design concept? 

It always starts with a plan and lots of sketching to try and explore the intuitions that we have about the project. From there we like to try and get as quickly into making models as we can – often digitally first, but we always like to make physical models as well. So much is discovered and can be tested in the making of them, and they always resonate well in describing ideas to clients. 

Throughout the process we also like to have workshops with clients – sitting together around a table and discussing the ideas – the project is always a collaboration, and this is fundamental to the way projects develop.

DGN Studio is currently working on a number of residential projects across London, as well as designing and making furniture and interiors.

Credits

Images · DGN STUDIO
www.dgnstudio.co.uk 
Photography · NICK DEARDEN FROM BUILDING NARRATIVES

Joe Mortell

“When working on a new scene, I always aim to have at least one unique element in it”

Joe Mortell is a 3D designer based in London, whose work combines the efforts of creative direction, animation and illustration to construct elegantly rendered interiors and landscapes. Often merging into one another, Mortell’s interiors and exteriors integrate to form a unique and surreal aesthetic, crafted with a high level of detail.

Mortell’s 3D rendered environments have a comfortingly familiar, dreamlike quality to them. With their carefully stylised compositions and polished imagery, it is as though we’ve been given a glimpse into a digital utopia. With ambient lighting, inventive furnishings and alluring textures, Mortell’s work transfigures the digital realm into something almost tangible.

Initially moving to London to study graphic design before specialising in 3D work, Mortell has built a vibrant and impressive career, working internationally with the likes of The New York Times, Wallpaper*, Selfridges, Louis Vuitton, Moët Hennessy, Youth to the People and more. NR Magazine speaks with Joe to learn more about the details of his 3D designs, pop culture influences and creative process.

What attracted you to start working with 3D design?

I love the amount of freedom 3D can give you as a designer! There are so many different areas within it to explore, learn and experiment with. When I first started, I was trying out almost anything that came to mind. Animating things like wind moving through plants, light beams passing through windows and light refracting through rippling glass. You never know what new effect might come out when you experiment within 3D. Even today, around 5 years after I started, I have a huge list of things I want to learn and experiment with.

What do you enjoy most about working with digital and surreal landscapes?

I really enjoy merging the outside world with interior spaces. They have a really nice mix of feeling unusual and surreal but also inviting. You can imagine yourself walking into them, relaxing and even exploring past the edges of the frame.

I feel that up until now it’s been very difficult and expensive to imagine spaces like these without a large movie budget. Within 3D it’s not only really quick to create things like this but it also gives you the freedom to experiment quickly and stumble across happy accidents.

The past year has been such a struggle for the arts and for creatives – how have you managed to stay motivated?

As with a lot of other people, this past year gave me a lot of free time that I wasn’t expecting to have. Personally, this enabled me to spend a lot of time experimenting and refining my 3D work. I enjoy doing it so much that it feels like a hobby when I’m learning something new or trying out a new idea for a scene. I feel as if the last year has allowed me to see what I want to achieve in my work a lot more clearly. I realise this really isn’t the case for everyone. My advice to anyone that is struggling is to try and find a completely new creative area that interests them and experiment with it. If you can find a creative area that you really love, the motivation will come on its own.

When do you feel like a work is ‘complete’?

I tend to focus on the composition of a scene first so I can settle on a direction and will then have a good base to work from. After that’s in a good place I start to add natural elements and furniture until the pairings feel right together.

The last 50% of the work that I put into a scene will be all about the smaller details and that’s where I feel the scene starts to really feel complete. These will be details in the materials and textures to make them feel natural along with small objects to make the scene feel lived in. An ideal scene will have small areas that catch the eye and really hold your interest.

What are the most important things you consider when designing your 3D landscapes?

When working on a new scene, I always aim to have at least one unique element in it. This could be the shape of the architecture, the natural landscape, the lighting, the colour palette or maybe even something simple like a unique piece of furniture. Using this method has helped me to find entirely new approaches to making scenes. Some things that I’ve tried out as an experiment before have become the core foundations in what I create today.

What spaces and landscapes inspire you and your practice?

The spaces that inspire me the most are almost anything retro and futuristic. I love the unique shapes in the architecture and the super bold and stylish furniture within them. I’m always aiming to find the right balance between vintage and futurism in my work.

I’ve also started to become very inspired by renaissance landscape paintings. They manage to achieve a feeling of amazing depth within them by using clever areas of shadowing and lighting to break down the scenery into something more readable. The lighting and scenery in these paintings always have a brilliant powerful feeling to them that would be amazing to try and capture in a 3D scene.

What aspects of your own life influence your creative vision?

I’m a huge movie fan so this has played a big part in how I imagine new scenes. I especially enjoy anything surreal, or anything dream based. Studio Ghibli movies stand out as some of my favourites along with movies such as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind with its incredible surreal scenes. I’m also a fan of Nintendo, so the worlds in Zelda and Super Mario have always really inspired me.

What have been your favourite projects to work on?

I have so many favourites it’s difficult to pick! I find that working in 3D allows you to work on such a wide variety of different projects. I find that I either particularly like working on something I haven’t tried before that allows me to experiment a bit, or on the other end, a project that allows me to really focus on refining the realistic details.

A few projects that do come to mind are modelling and animating birds for AllBirds shoes and NYT that allowed me to try something new. I also recently worked on a project for Wallpaper* with Charlotte Taylor where we mixed furniture with outdoor spaces. Another would be creating six unique surreal animations for Youth to the People.

Are you working on anything at the moment?

Right now I’m working on some really exciting projects. Some of which are collaborations with other 3D artists where we will be creating spaces together. Combining different skill areas that we have to make some really unique ideas. Also, as I’ve been solely focusing on still images the past few months, I’m working on bringing motion back into my work and creating a series of surreal animations.

Discover more here joemortell.com

Muda Architects

“preserving and staying respectful to the natural environment”

Garden Hotpot Restaurant designed by MUDA Architects is located in the Sansheng Township in the suburb of Chengdu, China. Surrounded by a lotus pond and nestled in the midst of a eucalyptus forest, the building’s unique design reflects the beauty of the natural landscape and pays homage to the established traditions of hotpot culture – the area’s traditional cuisine where a simmering pot is served at the table.

Originally founded in Boston in 2015, MUDA Architects have set up offices in both Beijing and Chengdu. The studio’s aim for the Garden Hotpot Restaurant was to gently integrate the site with the surrounding environment, creating a leisurely and peaceful dining experience. The suburb’s warm climate makes its location ideal for visitors, and Chengdu’s unique natural features made it the perfect setting for the architects to generate an interactive space.

With no external or internal walls, MUDA decided to construct the restaurant out of a series of pillars and boards to blend the building in with the surrounding woodlands, allowing it to gently integrate with the site. The building’s canopy skirts the body of water, curving organically and seemingly in response to the landscape, replicating the shape of steam and smoke of hotpots diffusing into the air, further blurring the boundary between the building and nature.

The overall aim of the design was to minimise human intervention and enhance the interaction between the guests and nature. NR speaks with the architecture studio to learn more about their approach to sustainability and design.

The restaurant is located in the Sansheng Township – what were the advantages of working in such a suburban area?

The natural environment of the suburb is incredibly beautiful and peaceful. Its also very close to the city, so visitors can reach it easily.

How did you decide to integrate hotpot culture into the design of the restaurant?

“Hotpot” is the best representation of the leisurely spirit of life in Chengdu; so we thought it best for the design concept of the restaurant to echo this culture. We drew inspiration from the dense smoke rising from the boiling soup of the hot pot to create the free-flowing curves of the building.

How do you feel the project reflects and respects its surrounding environment?

When I first visited the site, I was deeply impressed by the breathtaking natural environment, with its tall eucalyptus trees and silhouettes of egrets skimming through the forest. To preserve the eucalyptus trees on the site, we mapped their locations so the building could curve to avoid the plants, preserving and staying respectful to the natural environment.

Did any other elements of the natural landscape inform or inspire the building’s design?

Inspired the trunks of the eucalyptus trees, we used white columns to support the roof, allowing the columns to integrate with the trees.

What was the process like when working with the natural environment – was it important for you to conserve some of the landscape?

Preserving the natural environment was a focus of ours. During the construction process, we shared with the contractor about the measures we were willing to take to help protect the natural environment of the site. We avoided large construction equipment and instead used manual operations.

Was bringing people closer to nature an important part of the project?

Absolutely. With the idea of paying the greatest respect to the natural environment, we decided to blur the architectural scale, leave out walls, and only use pillars and boards in order to let the building gently integrate with the site and to delineate the shape of the lake in a gentle way, so that visitors could experience the natural landscape close-up.

The features of your other project, the Xinglong Lake CITIC Bookstore, also interprets cultural traditions – is this something that you try to maintain within each of your designs?

The design concept of the Xinglong Lake CITIC Bookstore originates from the idea of “a book falling from the sky”, and the curved roof refers to the local traditional single-pitch roof. We aim to tap into each project’s locality and culture, and to incorporate that in a contemporary way into our design strategy.

What are some of the projects MUDA is currently working on?

The projects that are under construction right now are the M50 Art Hotel, Haikou Visitor Center and the TCM Museum of Pengzhou.

Credits

Images · MUDA ARCHITECTS
www.muda-architects.com

Daab Design

“An interesting part of our work is extracting from the client what they think normality is”

London architecture studio Daab Design is known for using ‘collaboration, inclusivity and craftsmanship’ to create the best spaces for their clients. They work on a range of projects, from small scale restorations to larger community-based infrastructure designs. NR Magazine reached out to speak to co-founders Dennis Austin and Anaïs Bléhaut about their practice. Dennis was trained in NYC and has 30 years experience designing award-winning projects in Europe and North America. Anaïs was trained in Paris and Rome and has 20 years of experience designing award-winning projects in Europe and North America. 

You have said your work reflects the cities you have lived in and the cultures you love. How does people’s approach to living spaces and housing differ from city to city and culture to culture, and how is that then translated into your work practice? 

Anaïs: I don’t think I can generalise how people in different countries live. With residential work, everybody lives differently. An interesting part of our work is extracting from the client what they think normality is. Often they will tell you to do the kitchen the normal way, but there is no normal way. You practice architecture differently in France and the UK. In France, a small office can do very large buildings, because the contractors are responsible for large amounts of the technical design, whereas in the UK the architects deliver much more details. 

Dennis: In the UK the planning policies have a stifling influence whereas in France it’s very much that there’s a strong concept which is then measured against what the policy suggests. Those differences have changed us as practising architects for the better. 

Is it often the case with older buildings, such as Unearthed Vault and Guild, that they have all suffered from ‘unsympathetic alteration’ which hide their original charm and craftsmanship? If so why do you think that is a common occurrence? 

Anaïs: It is often the case, yes, and there are different reasons for that. The first is that conservation put into law is a relatively new thing. There was an aspiration for conservation since the end of the 19th century but it was some time before it became law. The other reason that now the London housing prices are so high, interesting buildings like the Georgians, are often used as offices. Offices owners tend to not embrace ownership the same way as family homeowners do. The change of use from residential to offices is quite detrimental because the offices just want the building to be compliant and it’s not done sympathetically. 

Dennis: And the love and the charm of the existing building is at odds with its use as an office. What’s interesting now post-pandemic, is that we are beginning to consider 1970’s office buildings in the centre of the city and look to turn them into housing. It’s a whole other challenge. How do we bring daylight into those buildings? How do we retrofit? What is the approach? We have to really dissect these spaces architecturally. 

Do you think this change from offices into housing is going to affect housing prices in bigger cities? 

Dennis: It will not be the panacea where all of a sudden we’ve got this great selection of housing at all different price ranges and everyone is going to be comfortable. It will begin to change the perception and the uses. A great example is downtown Manhattan where, twenty years ago, there was a shift from office spaces into housing. It was an economic driver back then because they weren’t getting the rent from these offices. They took this buildings stock and then appropriated a new use. 

Anaïs: I think it could be a good case study to see how Downtown and the Wall Street area have been converting these offices into very successful flats. The conversion is quite interesting. The system is close to our micro house community. I think it can give some help to solve the housing crisis in London. 

I imagine there’s a lot of technical challenges when it comes to converting offices into housing?

Dennis: Yes. The biggest challenge will be natural light, how do we bring as much natural light as we need and there are ways of doing that.

Anaïs: Office building floor plans can be quite deep, with no natural light.

Dennis: But structural and service issues are less of a key problem. As soon as you start taking the building stock and getting operable windows you’re going to change everything. You will change how people perceive the space. You’re going to improve peoples health and wellbeing. Those buildings then have a natural network of infrastructure at their doorstep, whether it’s public transport, museums, culture, historic sites. If you imagine central London and all of a sudden a third of say the Leadenhall Building becomes residential, it would be quite interesting. 

With Unearthed Vault you spoke of the importance of bringing light into the space. Do you think that lack of good light is a common issue in housing in cities like London? What changes, small or big, can people make to improve that in their own living spaces?

Anaïs: Yes in the case of these Georgian houses and central London houses. It’s a bit different when you go outside that area, I’m always actually quite impressed by the small estates in the suburbs of London and how they still have a lot of natural light. 

When I worked on Vault I was impressed by the original Georgian design for the lower ground floor. It was quite amazing how they have an almost fully glazed wall in the rear kitchen area where household staff were working hard and needed natural light. They also had light wells on the ceiling to get as much natural light as possible, so they don’t spend a lot of money on candles and make the most of the day. 

The problem again is the price of the property, because people tend to look for every opportunity of gaining more internal space. These light wells which are so precious for natural light are often covered to make more internal space. The first day we went to Vault I just couldn’t orientate myself in this basement, it was horrible. As soon as we demolished coverings on the light wells, suddenly you could read the building. I mean the pictures speak for themselves, it was made with zero lighting, just natural light, and it’s beautiful. People realised how much more you gain from the quality of space on the property, rather than trying to gain one square meter of prime location.

I noticed that both in Vault and Guild the use of rich, bold and often quite dark colours on the walls. Is that a trend in interior design at the moment and if so is it here to stay? 

Anaïs: With these two projects, when we peeled back and stripped down the paint on woodwork we found 260 years of paint in different layers. A trend for a group of people or a society is actually reflecting the society itself. You could almost date the paint by its colour by what was a trend at the time and the Georgian trend was very interesting. Today people seem to enjoy almost the similar tones as the original Georgians did. It makes the space very vibrant because you embrace the architecture by using these tones. What’s good is you don’t damage anything if you use the right paint, so there’s nothing wrong with making the home your home with the paint you like. We choose colours that we felt were very Georgian but we incorporated in the original colour 200 years of fading. The red we chose for Guild at the time would have been a much more primary colour. When you incorporate the ageing of the colour, subconsciously you read the years as well. 

What were the most interesting colours you saw?

Anaïs: I’m always fascinated by the original Georgian chocolate brown colour. I’m less impressed with the layers of off-white or cream which flatten everything. It makes everything so dull I think. We found some black on some of the woodwork, which I wasn’t expecting but it looked very strong. I think that’s part of the reason in Guild we made the railing colour close to black. We used the colour reference called “Railings” from Farrow and Ball

When you renovate places do you feel like an archaeologist, peeling back the layers of time? 

Anaïs: Absolutely you feel like an archaeologist, and you discover things. With Guild again the hallways were covered in vinyl tiles. We took them off quite quickly but we couldn’t tell if we had concrete below, or stone, or what, because the glue was so horrible. It was only after when we cleaned all the glue that we found the most beautiful Portland stone. That moment is amazing.

With Sunnyside Yards you talk about the importance of fostering community by providing public spaces and programs to encourage residents and locals to interact. However, considering how people have become even more used to isolation due to the current pandemic, do you think that simply providing these spaces and programs is enough to cultivate community in these kinds of housing hubs? 

Dennis: Just providing space and suggesting usage, no. You need the backing of the community and residents. You need the will to create spaces where people will get together and foster well being. On the other hand, if the architecture doesn’t permit that, then you haven’t permitted that ability for people to take ownership of their own spaces. For years we were talking about how spaces are too small. We design everything down to the square centimetre and it’s cost-driven. But that doesn’t work, we need to provide housing that has greater access to exterior spaces. Not just a single tack on balcony but also communal exterior spaces

I think some really successful projects now are making landings at floor level where not only can you store your baby buggy but there are benches where you can sit you can chat with your neighbour. So the idea of saying ‘in this space people will feel good, this will be a wellbeing space’ doesn’t work. I think people now, post-pandemic, are thinking about how we can collectively figure out what to do with these spaces. We are no longer waiting for the governments to tell us this. And with Sunnyside, that’s what we tried to do, by creating these second-level podiums with these collective spaces again at lift landings. As you leave the lift you have access to an outside terrace, before you get into the corridor leading to your flat. 

When you work, how you keep in mind the importance of providing these spaces for fostering community and include that in your design? 

Dennis: Understanding how we live. Also, going back to your first question, by living and working in different countries.

Anaïs: But also it needs to come earlier from the community itself and community engagement during the project. Because the community have different needs and different requirements

Dennis: Look at affordable housing in the UK. Up until sixteen months ago, the driver was bicycle storage and bin storage, and that’s not enough anymore. Of course, bins and bikes are important but it has to be about how can a community of thirty-five units build in the ability to work from home. So everyone working in their flat can also have a space where people can get together and have access to independent spaces to work in. 

I’ve noticed a lot of roof space in London is often unused, do you feel like this is a waste of space? 

Dennis: Absolutely, we think it’s critical to promote exterior green space. The use of a roof should allow people to get up, get daylight and enhance views. It should allow you to meet, you should have access to a communal garden up there. There is low lying fruit in wellbeing and that is garden space, whether at ground level or roof. Talking to people, playing in the dirt, and seeing something grow is an amazing answer to feeling good. Plus roofs should also be used for renewable energy, grey-water collection, etc. 

Anaïs: Also a green roof is simply better for insulation, better air cleaning as well. I think also in London the pandemic revealed the underuse of the front garden. All these little front gardens that we used just put bins in, they are now becoming like a prime piece of land. Everybody wants a little chair and coffee place in them. It’s great to see how we can make these spaces work harder. 

With Micro/Macro you talk about rethinking communal spaces. Do you find that there is a big demand for micro-units/single person studios in cities like London where young workers are often forced to share their living spaces with strangers due to the cost of living? And how exactly will Micro/Macro tackle issues like these? 

Dennis: It’s interesting because neither of us is from the UK. There is such a rich culture of young professionals sharing flats here. In New York that isn’t the case as much and in Paris even less so. You would go to look for a chamber maid’s flat in Paris under the roofs. A tiny little nine square meters but you would be living alone. In the UK it is very much about coming together, with people you do or don’t know sharing a flat, and it becomes this greater network. I think for us Micro/Macro is about thinking architecturally, not just providing a cheap small flat. We took out in certain aspects like the full kitchen by bringing in a small kitchenette. You don’t need a dishwasher or a washing machine, those become communal uses and functions that you share on the ground floor. In Manhattan, the old laundry rooms were where you got to hear the gossip for the whole building.

Anaïs: That’s where you create bonds and friendships. 

Dennis: It’s about getting a small sleeping unit, I can have a friend over, I can read a book I can do what I need to do in my daily life. But when I’m participating in a communal event, doing my laundry, sharing thoughts, I want to do that with people, who are not necessarily my flatmates but are my community. For Micro/Macro we are very keen on making sure we can design these buildings where retirees are living on the same floor as the twenty-somethings. They can share life experiences and really create the essence of community. So it’s not about small, it’s about eliminating and reducing in your personal flat. What that does is it takes the pressure off your flat and you start organising your stuff a little differently. ‘I do have that quarter or half a cabinet in the laundry room, I will store it there.’ We have just been so used to consuming and consuming and thinking that we need this that and the other at our fingertips but we don’t. 

Are there any new technologies in the industry that you are particularly excited about, specifically in regards to providing sustainable and affordable housing? 

Dennis: I wouldn’t say it’s brand new but off-site prefabrication, often referred to as MMC. They aren’t incredibly modern I grew up in New York, next to a town which was part of a prefabricated housing scheme in 1957 and it was all flat-pack houses.  However, today we are at the cutting edge of prefabrication in housing. I think in terms of sustainability it does it in three broad efficient steps. One is it reduces waste as everything is built in a factory and it centralises deliveries. Secondly is those units built are incredibly well insulated and have amazing airtightness. Plus the quality is better because there’s less margin for error. Thirdly you are getting this incredibly shared benefit of the units together acting in unison, and all profiting from really efficient exterior insulation.

Anaïs: I think one interesting point is it has existed for some time. In Europe, they tried at the time to import these systems, because of all these benefits, but the cultural barriers against this kind of method of construction were so strong, In Europe, people wanted stone houses, and in the UK brick houses.

“It’s only now that we are on the verge of a sustainable and environmental collapse that people realise these tools and methods already exist.”

What was one of the most challenging projects you have worked on as a company and why? How did you overcome these challenges? 

Dennis: There’s a project we are working on now called Between the Lines. It’s a master plan of a neighbourhood here in Battersea and it’s an area that was formed by the rail companies of the mid 19th century. That infrastructure created huge barriers to connectivity between communities in Battersea and Lambeth. 

Anaïs: This railway company had a green light to take the land they wanted. So there is a lot of residual corners and no-mans-land amalgamated in an area that is quite close to where we work. 

Dennis: And the challenge is to communicate to people, the authorities, some of the landowners the chance of connectivity is there. We need to stop looking at these sites as giants and look at them at a pedestrian level. It’s all these series of brick arches and infrastructure that is very penetrable. So the challenge is communicating the worth and the value of this land.

Anaïs: It’s a complex site it’s quite hard to grasp. There’s a huge opportunity there. It’s an iceberg between Nine Elms and Battersea it’s fascinating.

Any other places that were interesting challenges? 

Dennis: Yes, we are working with Southwark council on affordable housing. There is a policy of looking at existing estates and trying to make them a bit more efficient at providing additional homes. So they are looking at taking out garages and filling in some missing teeth of spaces. Loads of great challenges, the scale though, unfortunately, is too small it needs to be bolstered up. 

Anaïs: For me, the great challenge that I enjoy very much at the moment is retrofitting services in listed buildings. There are so many options and people now are contemplating the fact that we have to be able to do something in these buildings. And there are different options, a mix between traditional design and really high tech elements. This is challenging, it’s case by case but it’s great.

What advice would you give to you creatives looking to get started in this field? 

Anaïs: We like working with students we have always an LSA student in the office and we enjoy mentoring very much.

Dennis: I think that the advice is to bolster your curiosity 

Anaïs: Travel, work in different cities. That brought us so much. 

Dennis: And if possible work in different languages and carry a sketchbook.

Anaïs: Draw draw draw. Meet people, talk to people, talk to architects. 

Dennis: The value of shared experiences and understanding what people have been through, is how major projects have been developed. It’s about piquing people’s curiosity. 

What projects are you working on currently and what do you have planned for the future? 

Dennis: Between the Lines is the real current project that’s quite interesting

Anaïs: Also some listed buildings and conservation areas. 

Dennis: And the Homegrown Plus initiative that we are working on with Neil Pinder. It’s a platform to provide access for architecture students and young architects who are from non-traditional and traditional backgrounds. People of all ethnicities and backgrounds working through university. How can we, as an office, begin to disseminate some of our knowledge and our experiences to this greater network? Homegrown Plus is about bolstering access to a whole population who have been historically denied access to the study of architecture 

Anything else you’d like to add?

Dennis: I think for us. we are very much a small-large practice. We opened our office after having worked for thirty years or so and it’s about bringing our experience to our own work. We are doing that because the joy of being in control of your own destiny is just amazing. We feel we can offer more and give back to society within our own practice than working with bigger names.

Anaïs: And we still feel that as a small office we are agile enough to integrate larger teams if needed on infrastructure projects. We are really happy to work on infrastructure projects with other architects.

Dennis: As a small practice we do collaborate with larger practices and it’s a cross-pollination of practice experience that is quite interesting 

Anaïs: It keeps you fresh in your thinking and your design. Nothing is taken for granted.  

Credits

Images · DAAB DESIGN
www.daabdesign.co.uk/
Photography · JIM STEPHENSON

Neue Nationalgalerie Museum

NR · WORLD
Published · Online

Feature · Neue Nationalgalerie Museum
Words · Nicola Barrett


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After years of refurbishment the Neue Nationalgalerie museum in Berlin has shed its cloak of scaffolding and has emerged into public view. At first glance it seems not much has changed, which is exactly the intention of David Chipperfield Architects who were commissioned to take charge of the first major renovation of the building since it was built in 1968. The practice has a diverse international body of work and has ‘won more than 100 international awards and citations for design excellence.’ The team at David Chipperfield Architects in charge of this project describe themselves as ‘invisible architects, striving to keep ‘as much of Mies as possible.’ 

 

They are referring to Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, one of the last directors of Germany’s famous avant-garde design school, the Bauhaus, and the architect who designed the Neue Nationalgalerie. Mies sought to establish his own style of architecture to represent modern times and the advancement of technology in the early twentieth century and embraced the aphorism ‘less is more’. The Neue Nationalgalerie is the only European building Mies designed after leaving his native Germany and emigrating to America before the Second World War. 


Historical photograph by Reinhard Friedrich

Historical photograph by Reinhard Friedrich

Speaking on his practices’ refurbishment of the museum, the firms founder David Chipperfield stated, “Taking apart a building of such unquestionable authority has been a strange experience but a privilege.” He went on to describe the refurbishment as “surgical in nature” as they addressed technical issues whilst protecting Mies’s vision. 


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David Chipperfield Architects practice is characterised by  ‘meticulous attention to the concept and details of project’ and their ‘relentless focus in refining design ideas’ and this was evident in their aim to produce, not a new interpretation of the Neue Nationalgalerie, but a respectful repair. They accepted signs of ageing in the fabric of the building as long as it didn’t not impair visual appearance or usability.



 Mies often described his work as ‘skin and bones architecture’ and this Miesian principle is something Martin Reichert, Partner and Managing director of David Chipperfield Architects Berlin, uses to describe the renovation process. Calling the original surfaces the skin, and the shell construction the bones, he stated that these were kept, as they were ‘the most important characters of material heritage’. However, much of the ‘meat’ of the building, such as plaster, wire ceilings and porous concrete, was lost, aside from a small amount that was retained as evidence in preservation zones. 


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Issues such as condensation were addressed by bringing the building closer to Mies original design. The original underfloor heating, which had been taken out of service at an early stage due to steel pipes becoming corroded and leaking, was restored making ‘an essential contribution to stabilising the indoor climate.’ In the case of unavoidable interventions, such as adding previously non existent disabled access, the changes are described as only ‘discreetly legible’. 


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 The museum is expected to reopen to the public in August 2021 and more information on the restoration and opening details can be found on the Neue Nationalgalerie website .

IMAGES SIMON MENGES

INTERVIEW NICOLA BARRETT



 

LATEST PLACES AND DESIGN FEATURES

Thomas Demand

“I think the use of models is a highly influential and underexposed cultural technique, we can only absorb the complexity of the world around us by filtering end remodeling it.”

German sculptor Thomas Demand lives and works between Berlin and Los Angeles. One of the most innovative artists of his generation, Demand has specialized in handcrafting facsimiles of architectural spaces and natural environments. Through his use of paper and cardboard, Demand meticulously reconstructs images and scenes, embedding those in society’s collective memory with mural-scale photographs. The ephemeral and illusionistic characters of Demand’s work have pushed the medium of photography further than ever before and are part of his investigation of the livelihood of images.

NR looks into Thomas Demand’s development as an artist, from sculptor to photographer and how he found a balance between the two practices using excellent craftsmanship and imagination, blurring the line between reproduction and original whether it be in architecture or fashion.

Thomas Demand, it is such a pleasure to be interviewing you. How are you?

Very well, thank you.

You have had a fascinating career spanning across various fields such as sculpture, photography, art, film. As the theme of this issue is Growth, I thought it would be interesting to let you talk to us about how you found a balance between all those practices, using excellent craftsmanship and imagination.
You initially trained as a sculptor, how did you find yourself in the place where you are today and how did you initiate that merge between sculpture, photography and architecture?

I grew up in an environment which naturally connected these fields like family: my father and mother were painters, my uncle and grandfather architects, my grandmother a concert pianist (still working to find my way in that field) and my best friend at school was the son of one of the most important and visionary art collectors in Germany. So I have no Schwellenangst, even if I do have greatest respect for the disciplines and their differences.

You have studied in Düsseldorf, Munich, Amsterdam, Paris and London. You have been moving quite a lot. What are some of the places that have inspired you the most?

Japan, USA and northern Italy. But I also noted over the years that there are cities which are good for making art and some to look at art, but rarely is both the case.

Your starting point is often photography as a “constructed reality” and from there, you design life-size paper models with colored paper and cardboard. You create inventive images of life- size architectural paper models that look exactly like the final product. Your constructions are ephemeral as you always discard them once you’ve photographed them. Why is that?

I don’t think it is exactly like the starting point, but even if, it would be a valid artistic concept, I believe. But my version is a version of reality which might have more relations to how we see the world, not how it might be. How we remember it, how we are manipulated, how our ideas influence what we recognize and so forth. Like a writer, he might write truthfully about the world, but it will not be taken as the reality itself. I consider this worth exploring in the medium of photography, where this distinction is easily obfuscated by the mechanistic understanding of documentation the apparatus delivers.

Your work often serves as testimonies for other artists’ thought processes and create a place in time for them. Where did that interest come from?

We all stand on someone else’s shoulders, and I find it an easy way not to isolate my vision in the ghetto of photography. Photography as a technique or discipline never interested me enough.

In an interview for the Louisiana Museum you say that “many things first become visible to us via the images we see of them.” and that we live in a world of models. Could you elaborate on that? Do you think you are creating a new version of reality or giving new perspectives or is this more about bridging the gap between what we see and what is represented and almost building a realm between fiction and reality?

I think the use of models is a highly influential and underexposed cultural technique, we can only absorb the complexity of the world around us by filtering end remodeling it. The ancient Greek philosophy was already fully aware of that and things didn’t get less complex since then. The weather forecast, retirement plans, demographics, elections, psychology ect, all is using models to find a direction through data. People often think of architects and children’s toys if they refer to models, but it is much more fundamental. It is amazing how little literature and research there is about that.

Your major solo exhibition ‘House of Card’ is on view until April 2021 at M Leuven museum in Belgium. It coincides with the release of your book House of Card with Mack, which focuses on your relationship to architecture and the collaborations you have done with architects. Your series Model Studies which also serves as an introductory point in House of Card, was honoring through photographs taken during your visit at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, 13 unreleased projects and discarded structures made by well-known architect John Lautner. This was also the first time for you not to photograph models of your own.

HoC is the show and the book, which works as a standalone, but it is the book to the show.

Could you delve into your engagement with architecture over the last decade?

I noted over the years that architecture developed a specific interest and response towards my work, I heard of competitions which were won with my images as examples, architectural schools did seminars about it and architectural biennales invited me many times to contribute. I also worked since my first exhibitions with display features, exhibition architecture and embraced challenging spaces to show the work without compromising neither the architecture nor the pictures. All that established long-termed collaborations with a number of architects. I think that prepared the situation in which I started thinking about architecture as a promising claim for my thinking and obviously there are a number of approaches imaginable for me: looking at it, using it and now also doing it myself. That’s what the show is about, plus collaborative aspects which come along, as architecture is always a team effort.

How does your work resonate with architecture? In your opinion, how do abstraction and architecture correlate?

Architecture, not unlike photography are figurative. The process might be very abstract, but what is built is concrete. But there are stages in the design process which are open and not about doors, faucets and fire regulations, and those interest me, as they shadow a bit what I enjoy in my work, when ideas become form and forms become figures. I consider my Model Studies series as my most photographic work to date but also my most abstract. In the end the source is becoming irrelevant, you won’t recognize a Lautner building nor a dress by Alaïa on my images.

You have spent time recently in Tokyo in the offices of the architects Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa, also known as SANAA. Your 2015 show Latent Forms at Sprüth Magers in London displayed the close-up images you took of their paper and cardboard architectural models during your visits at SANAA offices. Those images part of Model Studies II, became abstracts and fragments of ideas of buildings that may not come to realization. Why were you interested in working with SANAA?

Besides the fact that they are amongst the most astonishing and original firms in the field of architecture, I was approached by them to contribute to their Venice architecture biennale exhibition in 2010. I visited them in Tokyo and found the most amazing and confusing office they worked in, which just fascinated me. So, when I moved to L.A. I decided to fly every few months over there to see how that place changes. Their design process is highly influenced by the use of very low-key simple paper models, which they make in a minute to communicate ideas. Once such idea is used or abandoned for one project it might have an afterlife in another project because it just sits there amongst what looked like a 1 million other models. So, it felt familiar for me as a studio situation, but also it was used for completely different purposes.

Could you tell us about Model Studies IV and the inspiration you had from the late fashion designer Azzedine Alaïa’s pieces?

I had the pleasure to have lunch with him once or twice in his atelier, and at the same time I had planned to work with the patterns which are used in clothes making for many years. Although I never found the right picture, I kept searching. It reminded me of the discarded leftovers on Matisse’s floor in his studio in Nice, where he did the cut outs in colored paper. Again, it felt familiar but wasn’t an artist’s studio. Important in all cases is for me also that these people think with their hands, which is really important in a time when the digitalization is taking over any aspect of our life.

Last year you realized your first collaboration with a fashion brand, for Prada and you’ve decided to create anonymously a series of images titled Hanami (meaning cherry blossoms, a symbol of youth and love) created for each window of every Prada stores across the world. This was also a first for Prada to officially collaborate with an artist. You have had a close relationship with Miuccia Prada and Fondazione Prada for the last decade. How did that collaboration unfold? Why also the desire for anonymity? Could you tell us more about the narrative behind the series and what was the inspiration behind it?

Over the last 15 years I did nine different projects in all different shapes and ambitions with the Fondazione Prada. I saw it developing into an amazing organization, which never used the art for marketing reasons, very unlike most other efforts in that field. The trust in the artist and the generosity when it comes to making things possible is the connection to the core of the company and in the end their idea of luxury. So when MP asked me if I would consider to give permission to use my work in a seasonal campaign worldwide – it was spring 2020 – I considered the cooperation with company a chance to try out my work on a global audience without making it a marketing move on my part. I mean every Prada shop in the world, all of them in prime locations, and most of the windows were designed specifically. What a roll out!

It seems that artists and fashion brands are collaborating more and more. You have mentioned before that fashion is time and identity related and I think we can find those elements in your work too. What are some other fashion houses that you would want to collaborate with?

I find it a relatively confusing message to have a shop window with handbags and then having an artist name on top of that, possibly even with a social mission. I think the handbag should convince in itself and the shop window should do the best to create attention and context, full stop. But as I said, contemporary art is a niche and fashion is an industry, I think there can be very interesting combinations, as long as they respect the autonomy and maybe auratic character of an artwork. Also, the series ‘Blossom’ was existing, we aligned and composed it anew for the purpose, but it was not a commission in the sense of the word. But I really admire what Prada has built over the years, that’s why I was open to the request, not because I wanted to combine my ‘brand’ with theirs or any other strategic consideration.

Coming back to architecture, your most recent project currently under construction, is very very exciting. It is a Pavilion at the Headquarters of design-innnovation leader Kvadrat, a contemporary textiles and textile related products for architects and designers, company in Denmark. Could you tell us about this collaboration?

Again, that grew over the years into a long ongoing and trustful relation. Anders Byriel, the CEO, is very interested in contemporary Art and approached me decades ago when I had a show in the Museum Louisiana, and was just trying find his way around in the arts. It wasn’t really about commercial interests on both sides. We became friends since, did a few projects which were all great fun and showed convincing results, and so when he decided to build some kind of meeting place next to the company headquarters, he asked me if I have ideas or if I want to do it. And I said yes, instantly. You need to understand, very rarely an artist has the chance to build an entire house or in this case three of them. And I am trying to make it in some kind of Gesamtkunstwerk, where I am doing everything you touch and consider everything in it’s visual appearance and all follows the logic of paper. As it is my first, of course I needed help and asked CarusoStJohn to facilitate my ideas, I have also done a number of projects with them in the past, so it is a constructive and sensitive dialogue.

Are there other projects that you are working on at the moment?

I am working on a film about which I can’t say much right now, we will open a show in London next week, I am developing a large show for Garage in Moscow, which will include a direct collaboration between me and SANAA, as well as a contribution by Alexander Kluge and a show at the Fundacion Botin in Santander, called Mundo del Papel, with a very ambitious exhibition architecture in their wonderful Renzo Piano Building. Let’s hope the world is back on track by autumn, when it all will be realized.

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