torsdag 16 januari 2014

Left to it's destiny

Photo by Emelie Nielson, Norway 2009

Character

It happens quite often that people point at building we pass, asking what my opinion is of it?

The problem is that many times I have no opinion, they don't move me. Like a person without any feature of personality to remember they remain anonymous. Sometimes they can be vulgar and unattractive to me, but many streetscapes are just full of the bland.

But then, there are buildings that tell me something about themselves. I am mysterious, or young and nifty or ancient and wise. Buildings are of course more than the surface that meets the eye, skin and bones and structure as well as spatial personality.

Something that annoys me is too much steel, the kind you keep seeing in many new-built corporate buildings. 
I think that a building with excessive steel bracing is like a beautiful girl with big braces smiling.
Personality - pleasant or unpleasant, interest me a great deal.

The Fuller Building, or 'the Flatiron building' is grandpa-like to me, or more like a dandy-like grandpa when he was young and slender and handsome.



'Flatiron building' 1902 by Architect Daniel Burnham
Original photo credits to nycvintageimages.com


måndag 25 november 2013

Give me a continuos space with a pocket to myself. No doors, please.

There is something fascinating about continuos spaces. I am dreaming about a home with continuos space without doors, where there is still privacy and it's only one peek around a corner away.
Plan by Emelie Nielson


House & Atelier by Atelier Bow-Wow
Credits: http://www.archdaily.com
Townhouse in Landskrona by Elding Oscarson
Credits: http://www.architings.com / Ardi Handriansyah 

lördag 19 oktober 2013

måndag 9 september 2013

Morning on the facade

The sun goes up on our facade an autumn day in Paris
Photo: Emelie Nielson

fredag 21 juni 2013

The crevice

When I was about 16 years old we went on a long walk in the forest 'Skulesogen' in north of Sweden.
It is one of the strongest spatial memories I have, especially the crevice in the mountain where we walked.
See, I grew up with these amazing tales by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren, and one of her characters, Ronja (who was the daughter of the master thief of the woods) lived in a mystic primeval forest.
'Ronia, the robber's daughter' was made into a movie, and the split in the mountain that separated the thief families was filmed in this very place. The actual physical place is called 'Slåttdalsskrevan'.

The crevice is a 200 meters long split in the mountain, with 10-storey high cliffs on either side. The narrow passage is humid and often misty. You are walking deep into the mountain, coming out on the other side, once again in a deep forest that encloses you.
After the walk through the crevice, you eventually reach a high place up on the cliffs.
A grand view over the waters, cliffs and forests spreads out for miles. My stepmother had to sit down because the mere presence of the view made her knees weak and she got a bit lightheaded by the hight. Wow, this is truly a beautiful place.
Nature does it best, and then architecture does it. The sublime in the narrow passage, almost like an underwater experience where you see the light surface far away on top of you, a streak of light. The physical presence of the cliffs making you feel like a tiny insect seeking their way in a difficult landscape and then the grandiose opening of the landscape, far beyond what you can comprehend.
Tours like these stay in my memory and inspire me in architecture, far more than any architecture blogg or built reality ever could. Because nature does it best and it is raw in it's approach.


The influence that Astrid Lindgren's tales have had, the film adaptations with dreamlike landscapes like 'The brothers lionheart' and 'Ronia, the robber's daughter' has made a lifelong impression on me.
If you get the opportunity to see them or show them to your kids, I think you should.

Photo: cyberphoto.se / Thomas Lövgren

Photo: Naturvardsverket.se / Michael Engman / Engmanbild

Photo: Skuleskogen.se / Carolina Hillerdal


onsdag 22 maj 2013

National Assembly Building of Bangladesh by Louis Kahn

This is a building I would love to visit.
Louis Kahn has interested me ever since I started doing architecture.
Khan was considered to be a modernist but his work is distinguished from other contemporary architects of that time and in my opinion this building is special.

The National Assembly Building of Bangladesh could not (with favor) be moved anywhere else.
It has context, and it uses it beautifully. The monolithic is there throughout Khans oeuvres, here it melds together with pakistani/bengali tradition and takes on a new identity. It has strong identity and place.
The surrounding water and the light creates the conditions and the richness that the space plays with.
The concrete gets to play a well-favored role as it meets with the water and is mass but at the same time merges geometric openings that flood in light.
The halls are aligned around a central parliamentary grand chamber at the heart of the building,
which does not only fit the program as a core but also conceptualizes the light as space that Khan had in mind.
To me, this building has a certain inherit prime of sci-fi film mystery.

Still-image from the documentary 'My architect'

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

'Brutal/beautiful?' from http://ilbonito.wordpress.com

Via Archidaily by Naquib Hossain

Geometry