December 14, 2017 § Leave a comment
In 2012 I spent a month in Italy scoping out what would become Beauty’s Rigor. I found Nervi buildings and archives throughout the country that all proved important in the research–and in convincing the American Academy that I had a serious proposal. Some were easy–the Palazetto dello Sport in Rome is well-known, and basically open to the public as it’s the home of the city’s professional basketball team. Others, like the Gatti Wool Factory, took some doing and some professional help.
One that should have been easy was the Stadio Giovanni Berta, in Florence, which is still home to the city’s iconic soccer team, Fiorentina. But the weekend I spent there was also the weekend of a Madonna concert. “È chiuso,” the cop at the gate told me. “Molto chiuso.” I settled for some long shots for reference, and ultimately went with archival images from MAXXI for the book.
I’m in Rome this week and next for hastily (and happily) arranged meetings with the team of engineers, architects, and historians working on a Getty-sponsored preservation plan for Nervi’s 1960 Stadio Flaminio in Rome, and I thought a good introduction to the trip would be to–finally–get inside the Stadio Berta, now renamed the Stadio Artemio Franchi. Fortunately, connections paid off, and I spent this morning walking around it with Marco Scannerini, the stadium’s director, who knew quite well the structure’s history before, during and since it’s 1931-32 construction.
The stadium is known for its looping helical staircases on the later, east stand, but Marco started our tour in the entry hall of the original, west stand, pointing out that Nervi build an enclosed helical stair before the daring exterior ones. This one was structurally simpler, since it can rely on the curving wall behind it for support. But it’s an interesting design moment, too. The stadium complex is really a mashup of influences that shows clearly the aesthetic confusion latent in fascist era design. There’s something for everyone–classicism, futurism, and point-blank modernism–in Nervi’s work, some of which was forced onto him by local architects hired by Luigi Ridolfi, a wealthy local, keen supporter of Mussolini, and financier of Fiorentina from its beginning. Giovanni Berta was a fascist martyr, allegedly beaten to death by a communist mob in Florence, and the entire enterprise was part of Mussolini’s plan to build a stronger populace through sport.
So, Nervi’s staircase and evocative structure were all hidden behind a wrapper of stripped classicism straight from the fascist’s playbook. Note the window patterning–definitely not Nervi’s, and a clear sign in 1931 that Ridolfi was at least a quiet supporter of the Italian/German axis.
The main stand has been kitted out with luxury boxes and an extended roof, all of which clutter up Nervi’s original, expressive cantilever. The field, too, has been lowered, so everything to the right of the walkway in the photo above is new–all for the 1990 World Cup. It’s a fine looking stadium, but nothing like the purity of the original:
Marco told me–and I really hope this is true–that when the last of the scaffolding in the back was removed, none of the laborers on the job site would stand under the roof–only Nervi and the city building official were willing.
The diagrammatic cantilever of the west stand is iconic enough, and it represents Nervi’s first real foray into structural expression. But it’s the east stands, build the next year to accommodate the growing crowds, that shows Nervi’s burgeoning lyrical sensibility. In addition to the futurist Torre Maraton (Antonio Sant’Elia was a student at Bologna at the same time as Nervi…), the east stands feature a much more finely tuned structural frame, with members of surprising slenderness connected to one another by expressive, flaring moment connections. The frame is probably the least interesting part of the stand, but it’s beautifully done and maintained, an essay in structural logic and beton brut detailing a generation before its time.
The greatest moments of the whole complex, though, are the still-astonishing helical staircases that provide access to the top of the east stand–correcting a problem that Nervi had noticed in the original, since early arrivals coming in from the bottom of the stand would occupy the best seats, closest to the pitch, and block access from later arrivals who had to climb past them to reach the remaining seats at the top. By bringing in all patrons at the top of the new stand, Nervi improved circulation. But he also gave himself an opportunity for true pieces of engineering art, helical staircases that cantilever out from a twisting support beam that itself is braced by an equally-sized cross beam. More than eighty-five years later, it’s still a compelling piece of static gymnastics.
If the Stadio Flaminio is in grave danger after being abandoned for nearly two decades, the Florence stadium is in reasonably good shape. It’s patchy, but those patches are signs of constant maintenance–over two million Euros a year, according to Scannerini. But there are clouds on its horizon. Fiorentina, enjoying a resurgent audience for Serie A football, has plans to build a larger, roofed stadium on the city’s outskirts. It would cater to a generation that demands greater comfort for higher ticket prices; a roof, Scannerirni notes, is necessary for a sport for which attendees actually sit in their seats for most of the match, unlike American sports, where a seat often serves as more of a parking spot between runs for food, drinks, games, etc. If Fiorentina leaves for the suburbs, it’s difficult to imagine how Nervi’s stadium–even with its World Cup updates, which are now approaching thirty years old–will be put to use. It could suffer the same fate as the Flaminio, its necessary upkeep budget unfunded by a successful professional team. Here’s hoping that the American fad for nostalgic ballparks (at least in one of our national pastimes) translates, and that Italian football fans find some comfort in the relative discomfort of an aging, but classic, stadium…
December 11, 2017 § Leave a comment
Indulge me a quick break from construction…much more Nervi later this week, in particular…
As many readers know, my day job involves teaching at one of the original land grant universities in the midwest. Founded by the Morrill Act of 1862, the federal land grant program gave states large parcels of undeveloped land to sell, with the proceeds going toward the foundation or improvement of universities that would:
“…teach such branches of learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanic arts, in such manner as the legislatures of the States may respectively prescribe, in order to promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions in life.”
For the past generation, tuition at our university and many other public universities has made it harder and harder for the “industrial classes” to take advantage of these institutions.
As perhaps fewer readers know, I’m not only a land grant employee, but also a land grant alumni, and even a land grant kid–I went to high school at the University of Illinois’ laboratory school, and my father worked at the U of I and taught higher education policy and finance at other public universities. When Iowa State made me a Morrill Professor a couple of years ago, it specifically referenced the land grant mission, and thus had particular resonance for me.
Over the last couple of weeks, my father and I put together some numbers that show in some detail how rising tuition is pushing Iowa State away from the land grant ideal–basically, poorer counties in the state have been sending fewer and fewer students per capita to ISU than wealthier counties as tuition has risen and state funding has dried up. No surprise, but my anecdotal experiences of watching the demographics in my classes change is–sadly–confirmed by these numbers.
Together, we wrote an op-ed piece that ran in this weekend’s Des Moines Register that detailed these findings, and it seems to have resonated. Architecture and engineering, like many other fields, benefit most when the pool of talent they can draw from is broadest, and the continuing assaults on public education will hurt us, in the long run, just as they hurt many many other businesses and industries.
OK, back to your regularly scheduled blog. I’m touring two Nervi stadia in the coming weeks as part of the Getty Keeping it Modern grant to put together a preservation plan for Rome’s Stadio Flaminio, and I promise some good concrete here soon…
November 30, 2017 § Leave a comment
The Honorable Joni Ernst
The Honorable Charles Grassley
United States Senate
Washington, D.C. 20510
Dear Senators Ernst and Grassley:
I am writing to urge you to vote against the proposal in the current House of Representatives tax bill that would tax tuition waivers for graduate students.
As the Director of Graduate Education for Iowa State University’s Graduate Programs in Architecture, I work with two dozen student Teaching Assistants who receive 1/4 tuition waivers in exchange for ten hours of work per week. Their work is vital to our department, and their enthusiasm and dedication enable us to continue offering a full range of courses to undergraduate students. Tuition waivers are also a vital recruiting aid. As prices for public education increase, we must offset tuition costs if we are to compete for top international students, especially. In many cases, they choose to come to America, and to Iowa State, even when they can attend graduate school for far less—or even fully subsidized—in their home countries.
Today’s Des Moines Register notes that the current House proposal would effectively add $1,100 to a typical graduate assistant’s tax bill. My experience with recruitment and working with our graduate students tells me that this would gravely damage our ability to recruit good students, to retain students who rely on assistantships to ease rising tuition costs, and to keep our department running smoothly after more than a decade of budget cuts. The damage to our program and to Iowa State would be profound, all, according to the Register, for about $3.68 million dollars of new federal tax revenue per year. This is, interestingly, less than the amount our State has just decided to pay a head football coach—yet this provision would gravely damage public universities and the billions of dollars of revenue and economic activity they generate.
Please do not sell out institutions that have been important contributors to the economy and life of Iowa for over 150 years. I urge you to vote against any provision that discourages graduate student enrollment, and particularly the penny-wise, dollar-foolish suggestion that we tax some of the hardest working, most promising young scientists, entrepreneurs, designers, and engineers on our University campuses.
Thomas Leslie, AIA
Morrill Professor and Pickard Chilton Professor in Architecture
Iowa State University
November 29, 2017 § 2 Comments
Review season approaches. (What, there’s some other season that happens in December?) For several years now I’ve issued my design studios a list of helpful advice as they’re preparing their final projects, and I think it’s reached a critical mass that might be helpful elsewhere. It’s not quite the Twelve Days of Christmas, but reading it year after year it does have a certain rhythm. Consider this public domain if it’s useful to your colleagues or students. Or if you see Comic Sans showing up anywhere within fifty paces…
How Not to Get Killed on a Final Review:
- Show the site. Your ground level plan, every section, and every elevation should all be extended past the adjacent streets to show the relationships between your scheme and the surrounding buildings and streets. These should also show the shape and scale of the outdoor areas around your building.
- Animate your drawings and models. I can’t emphasize this enough. Show the project as you imagine it being occupied—not standing empty. Put dozens, if not hundreds, of people in your auditorium, your lobby, and your plaza. Put cars in the street. Put furniture and material joint lines in the plans and sections. Your goal should be to put so much intuitive information in the drawings that text labels seem superfluous. People should be in groups of 3-5 (this sounds ridiculous, but you’ll be surprised how much more friendly this looks). And show trees, site furniture, and paving patterns in outdoor areas, including sidewalks.
- On a related note: to clarify, add detail. In other words, if a material in your plan or section has a grain, or has standard fixings, or comes in standard sizes, indicate those. You may need to do this with very light linework (or linework that is a mid-tone gray instead of black), but these details communicate information intuitively. Tilework in bathrooms, handrails, door handles—all of these help the observer see the building instead of trying to figure out the drawing.
- Think about graphic coherence. All of your drawings are going on a wall, together. They should relate to one another. If you use color, or even a palette of grays, the same color should mean the same thing on every drawing. Text should be in consistent, legible fonts and sizes. Not sure which font to use? Gill Sans, Avenir, Century Gothic, and Helvetica are bulletproof choices for clean, modernist designs. For designs that are more traditional try Palatino or Garamond. Use light versions for notes, bold for titles. If you use Comic Sans, I will do everything I can to kick you out of our program. We have standards.
- Make a Storyboard. Think about what the logical presentation order will be, and take some time to compose your drawings so that they fit into a grid on the wall. Put a cartoon set together on 11×17 and use this to design the presentation. Where will you stand? Will the boards tell a story from left to right?
- Line weight, line weight, line weight. Plans and sections should have 4-5 distinct line weights on them, ranging from plan-section cuts through structural walls (heavy) through plan-section cuts through partition walls, doors and fixtures, furniture, and animation and material joint lines. BE SUPER RIGOROUS about these. If you are, your drawings will read. Want your plans to look organized and thoroughly worked out? Include overhead structural elements as dashed lines—this makes your drawings look tight and thorough. Elevations should be flatter, but even here you can distinguish between structural elements, cladding elements, and animation with subtle distinctions between line weights. Glass façade? Show animation behind it with grey lines. Multiple layers of cladding or columns? Show people walking between them to make the layers “pop.”
- Bonus points? Add shadow to your elevations. If it’s done right, the drawings will read like three-dimensional views, and the massing will seem crystal clear.
- Most importantly: “Strunk and White” every drawing. The Elements of Style is the best book on design ever written, even though it’s a handbook for writers. Don’t know it? Get a copy. It’s five or six bucks online and it’s full of advice that can be boiled down to this: say what you need to say as clearly and as briefly as you can, and then get out of the way. Don’t use unnecessary words (or lines). Try to explain, don’t try to impress.
“Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all his sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.”
Substitute “design” for “writing,” “drawing” for “sentence,” “line” for “word,” and “presentation” for “paragraph,” and you’ve got a powerful piece of advice for designers everywhere. This is a tattoo-worthy credo for designers, musicians, and writers everywhere.
- North always goes up. More or less up. Or at least in the same direction on every single drawing.
- No one has ever read more than five lines of text on a presentation board. If you need that many words, you’ve done something wrong with your drawings.
November 21, 2017 § Leave a comment
Very happy to report that, after four years (!), my ‘interim’ position as Director of Graduate Education for Iowa State’s Department of Architecture is coming to a happy conclusion–we’ve just posted a listing for a new DoGE, and I expect to pass the baton this coming August. I’ll be staying on as Pickard Chilton and Morrill Professor, and I’m looking forward to handing off a program in excellent shape and getting back to full-time teaching and research.
Our M.Arch. program enrollment has been up dramatically, with a more international student body and a truly outstanding faculty that’s publishing innovative research and coaching award winning work from students. We’re looking for a DoGE that can push us even farther. If you or someone you know is interested in a genuinely rewarding administrative/faculty position, please have a look at the posting in the link…
November 20, 2017 § Leave a comment
Oh, this is fun. Curbed Chicago has recently posted their 27 “famous buildings that every Chicagoan should know,” and it’s worked a treat in terms of stirring up the commentariat. I’ve got my thoughts on their list, and on what should be on it, but just for grins, let’s poll the readership: what are your top ten buildings, let’s say, that are iconic Chicago? Curbed’s list includes a lot that come to mind right away, but also a good mix of buildings (and structures) that certainly speak to the city’s history and culture, but that aren’t necessarily well known….
November 13, 2017 § Leave a comment
Des Moines has a long history of hiring international-caliber architects and getting superb work out of them–there’s a standard tour of outstanding buildings by both Saarinen’s, I.M.Pei, Gordon Bunshaft, Mies van der Rohe, and David Chipperfield that never fails to impress. And that’s alongside great work by homegrown talent, too.
A combination of international and local talent is building this elegant bit of flying steelwork at the moment. When regional convenience store/gas station chain Kum’N’Go announced that Renzo Piano would be designing its headquarters in downtown Des Moines it made a huge splash here and, from the looks of things, it should make an equally big splash nationally when it’s finished. Downtown Des Moines is a rare success story in contemporary American urbanism, and the decision to relocate their headquarters from the suburbs back to downtown by the chain is a huge vote of confidence that the core’s recent history of inspired development and civic engagement is likely to continue for a while.
Piano’s design will connect to the Pappajohn Sculpture Park, which has become not only a gateway to downtown but also a symbolic open space. The massing of the Krause Center is going to be oriented toward that space, with a ground level plaza and public interior that will be complimented by terraces on upper levels that will offer raised outdoor space for employees, and views over the Raccoon River’s valley, south of downtown. To emphasize these connections, most of the building is glass in the north-south direction, and Piano’s office has gone to extraordinary lengths to minimize the number of columns and walls that will support these upper floors–some of the lower floors’ corners are actually suspended from above to maximize the building’s transparency. The top floor is skewed, reflecting the change in grid from the city’s general E-W axis to one that’s perpendicular to the Des Moines River, a few blocks east. Here, too, the structure has been packed into long-span girders and a few dense columns to open up views along both axes. The result, even in the jumble of a busy construction site, is remarkably airy and open.
That glass is being set in place by local cladding company Architectural Wall Systems, sort of an MVP of a business here. A few weeks ago I ran into ISU grad Ryan Smart, who’s working for AWS on the project, and he suggested that we organize a field trip of the job site for our grad students. Which we did, and I think the afternoon was as inspiring as it was cold. Two other ISU alums–Ryan Larson and Joe Feldman, who work for the contractor, Ryan Companies, and the local architect, OPN–joined the tour, and treated us to an in-depth look at some of the structural gymnastics it’s taking to realize the airiness of Piano’s vision. The rigor and discipline is evident, too, and they described the challenges of realizing 28-foot tall insulated glass panels without intermediate supports, packing steel and mechanical systems into a vanishingly thin floor sandwich, and finding precasting companies who could pour monolithic corner pieces up to 6′ x 6′. (Hint: you have to go to Canada).
Whenever a small city like Des Moines gets an opportunity like this, the questions are always whether they’ll get the superstar architect’s best work and whether the local team can keep up with the expectations of that architect. We saw ample evidence–both in the construction so far and in the warehouse full of interior mockups–that Krause Center is going to be an extraordinary building–“the job of a lifetime,” as one of our alums told me, grinning wildly. What’s interesting is that it’s definitely going to be a Piano building, but it looks to be unusual in that rather than the details and materials driving the design, it really appears to be the sense of the wide open spaces that will connect to the city around it that have driven it. And that means that the structural discipline that we’re used to seeing in Piano’s work has been replaced by some truly breathtaking spans and spaces–something pretty new in his oeuvre, and exciting to see in its nascent form.
Many thanks to AWS, Ryan Companies, and OPN for showing us around. An inspiring afternoon, both for the architecture and for the chance to see former students out in the world and doing really amazing work.