DOUBLE VISION

by Catarina Ferreira, AIA

Construction at our mixed use building at 1400 9th St NW is finally picking up momentum. The initial phases of building facade stabilization, foundations and underpinning were technically difficult to accomplish and took several months to complete. Now, with framing nearing completion, the project is finally materializing and starting to look like a building , or is it two?

Located in the Shaw Historic District, the original building was built around 1850, making it one of the oldest (if not the oldest) contributing structures within the historic district. Vacant for decades and in poor condition, the building was nearing collapse when purchased at auction. The initial concept presented to the HPRB for review requested the demolition of the existing structure and replaced with an entirely new building. That concept was rejected, after board members visited the site and determined that the building could be salvaged. Then our job became a lot more difficult…

Typically, visible additions to existing contributing structures are not permitted. The project would not be viable without an increase in building area. Our second proposal to the HPRB, which underwent a smooth review process and was quickly approved, consisted of additions/alterations to the existing building, including a four story addition on the North side of the where a non-original structure previously existed. Conceptually, it made total sense. From a design stand-point, it seemed like an impossible mission. How could we create a coherent whole out of two such different parts? To complicate matters even more, the building occupies a corner site, making an alterations proposed very prominent. It also has no preferred orientation, and it seems that has always been the case. Is 9th St the front of is O St the front? It’s like it’s trying to be two buildings at once.

Sometimes the problem becomes the solution.

The European in me would have sought a clear distinction between old and new, so that was the starting point. However, in this case it was not just a matter of design a new building next to the old one. The original building required a significant amount of repair work and its 9th St elevation (the actual facade based on the building’s address) lacked coherence. Several poorly-designed alterations had been made over the last 170 years or so.

Sometimes the answer is not about black vs. white but rather shades of grey. The ultimate solution is a hybrid building that blurs the line between old and new just enough to make a passer-by do a double take. It looks like one building from farther away, like two up close. This allowed the integrity of the historic structure to be maintained, allowed us to propose a clean addition that is distinct yet compatible, and most importantly, one does not try to mimic/reproduce the existing building.

Often, in Washington DC, the tendency is to mimic the appearance of historic structures or to propose a slightly watered down version of them in order to try to achieve compatibility. That erasure of history, by replicating a historic language in the present, reduces the proposed and the original building to nothing more than their appearance. To me, architecture is about poetry, creating a rich experience by manipulating the grey zone, not about superficiality/appearance. Historic districts are first and foremost about a coherent atmosphere.

So how did we achieve a coherent atmosphere/ historic compatibility in this case?

1. My number one go-to strategy in historic district is always simplicity: simple massing, discrete character.

2. Then comes soul/personality: In this case, is it one building or two? It seemed important to maintain that duality. Also, a raw, slightly industrial aesthetic is proposed in both parts of the building. I feel this is compatible with the character of this particular historic district, where alleys are streets, carriage houses are homes, and just a dash of grit prevails.

3. Then comes continuity of materials: same brick color/size, same siding material on bay windows, same window color, despite different geometry/size.

Now that it has taken shape, the verdict is in: it is one building, but its also two at the same time, as has always been the case. Amazingly, I think it actually works!

More than Form

Post by Catarina Ferreira, AIA

So much has been written about Zaha Hadid and her work in the past two days. Two recurring themes stand out: 1. She was a great (albeit) female architect; 2. She was obsessed with form.

Both of these characterizations miss the point.

1. Zaha was a great architect; period. She was a great architect because she was able to elevate buildings beyond their constraints. She built poetry.

2. Her interest in form was clear, but it was not as superficial as some believe. Since the beginning of time, architects having been pushing materials to their limits, trying to create new realities. If that had not been the case, we would still be living in caves. Ultimately, her work was about pushing materials and building occupants to their limits. It was formal as much as it was experiential.

Her interest in form was perhaps a reflection of her painterly inclinations, of a cultural background in which calligraphy and having 'a good hand' are valued, in which patterns and abstractions go way back, collaged with an interest in Russian constructivism and the rigors of the AA. Is the formal intensity of her work, truly, what makes her architecture sublime? Yes and no. Minimalism is also a means to create sublime architecture, but it looks entirely diferent. Gothic architecture was sublime, but, again, very different. They all have one thing in common: an emphasis on the experience. However, they all use different formal languages.

Zaha Hadid created  buildings that appear to take flight or take off like speeding trains, she placed visitors smack in the middle of unsettling movement, on the edge of cliffs, under inverted, pointed geometries, etc. The overarching intent was to heighten the visitors sensory experience, and to make them aware of it. Every one of her buildings is remarkably different from the others, for that reason. It may not be for everyone, but neither is Baroque or Gothic architecture. Some call it self-serving architecture as sculpture. All architecture is a form of sculpure, but much more.

What Zaha did was invent a new, provocative style, and use it masterfully to create fantastic, experience-based architecture that puzzles even professional architectural critics. The patterns, the lines, the swoops, are the means for achieving this, in a more up to date and intense aesthetic than that used by other architects. The forms she invented truly created new experiences, and in her buildings form and experience are inseparable, because one cannot exist without the other, the same way that Gothic  architecture would not be the same without impossibly tall arches. This is where her genius lies. Perhaps the interest in form came first, and is so strong that it is almost distracting, but the end result surpasses it. It's Gothic architecture on steroids, with abstract contemporary music in the background.

Other architects of our time have created buildings that aspire to similar qualities, but their work fails to surpass the formal gymnastics, because their understanding of the experiential factor is lacking. Form alone is not nearly enough.  What matters is what you do with it, and what it does to you when you are in it. That's where sculpture ends and architecture begins.