Posts Tagged ‘sailing academy’
tower – a place of brutal exposure and incomparable vistas
April 23rd, 2011 | Richard Almond
The termination of a route, the tower sits as a pin in the open water. Wind roars through its permeable facades, icy waters lash at those visitors who dare to scale it. This is enclosure in the faintest sense of the word, one must truly experience the raw power of Iceland’s elements to reap the reward of glorious views.
transient enclosures
April 22nd, 2011 | Richard Almond
Ebbing tides brush mesh against one another, animating juxtaposing static and floating elements. The optical effect reminds one of the kinetic nature of the academy, continuously in flux, never static.
testing materiality
April 14th, 2011 | Richard Almond
Thinking about the material quality of the academy, I began to experiment with a range of metals. Click here for more images.
In relation to previous posts, facade treatment will use areas of mesh to allow visitors to experience the elements whilst retaining a sense of enclosure. The materials above are ultra-fine stainless steel mesh, fine copper mesh, medium brass mesh and a coarse steel mesh. I also experimented with some sheet brass. Taking inspiration from the Reykjavik vernacular, I have extracted a number of key elements common to many of 101′s buildings, and used them to devise a treatment I feel is both respectful to a unique city and practical for a floating building.
Light and Transparency
One of the qualities of mesh is its seemingly multi-dimensionality. Viewed front-on, a mesh may appear almost completely transparent, yet when viewed from an acute angle, the same mesh may appear as an almost solid object. The way in which light reflects from a mesh facade is similarly dynamic, as seen from the comparative images below, the angle from which the sunlight hits the material has a dramatic effect upon its appearance and how it is read.
Water Retention
The building’s facade will of course be constantly exposed to sea water and rain. The perforated nature of mesh means it may hold droplets of water. A very fine mesh acts in a way similar to a piece of cloth, allowing light to penetrate through whilst water simply runs off (left image below). A more coarse gauge of mesh (right image below) will retain much of the water within its perforations. Over-laying differing gauges of mesh creates further unique interactions between facade and water.
Erosion and Weathering
The prospect of metal cladding being in constant contact with sea water poses both a problem and an opportunity. The static components of the building will see Reykjavik’s huge 5m tidal range engulf much of the facade, the movement of salt water across the surface of the metal is likely to cause some chemical response, generating a prominent band of effected material. The floating elements of the building will still encounter constant lapping from the sea, the winds will drive spray through mesh facades and across decks. Although renowned for being one of the cleanest cities in Europe, acid rain does exist in Reykjavik, and this is something that would have a definite effect upon a metal facade. Below are examples of brass sheets exposed to acid, which can very quickly strip the sheen from the material. The left image has been pre-treated with wax in sections to mask the acid, creating an attractive aesthetic.
kinetics, texture and geometry
March 28th, 2011 | Richard Almond
elevational studies
March 19th, 2011 | Richard Almond
Elevational studies of the various components of the academy. Testing roof pitches and facade colouration in a play on Reykjavik’s vernacular.
considering spaces
March 16th, 2011 | Richard Almond
Its about time I began to think about some of the spaces of my building in more detail. Most interesting for me are the semi-outdoor spaces which allow direct access from the building to the water. These areas must provide some sense of enclosure to prevent visitors from falling into the sea, yet I am insistent that any facade should still allow an experience of the elements. The mediation between outdoor and indoor space will be a gradual one, incrementally enclosing inhabitants.
permanence and impermanence
March 2nd, 2011 | Richard Almond
There has been a nagging issue concerning the permanence of my building. A building which floats can feel temporary, a building which both floats and moves laterally, without definition, is effectively a poorly-designed boat. My pontoons were in danger of becoming too fleeting, too loose to constitute architecture. A datum was required, something solid from which the movement of the rest of the building could be read.
The tower becomes the pin which holds the building together, the culmination of a pedestrian’s journey. A suspended ribbon sits just above the water, connecting the tower to the harbour-side, acting as walkway and servicing element for the floating pontoons which dock onto it.
facade filtering the elements
February 16th, 2011 | Richard Almond
The facade mediates between the outer and the inner, allowing inhabitants a stirring taste of Reykjavik’s unique climate on occasion…
Sharp cold winds rattle through a primitive enclosure.
Thin shards of ice glide beneath a suspended timber deck.
Low winter light bounces off gently-rippling water.
Hazy rays from a cool sunset trickle through a perforated skin.
environmental, technical & material considerations
February 15th, 2011 | Richard Almond
Starting to think now about how this thing will actually float. Feeling rather inspired at the moment by MOS Architect’s Floating House which utilises a series of cylindrical drums for buoyancy. Floating concrete or polyethylene pads are other options but I feel somehow the drums lend themselves well to the slightly makeshift and metalic character of Reykjavik.
Further inspiration from Floating House is the way in which the facade mediates between internal and external environments. The definitions of ‘outside’ and ‘inside’ are seemingly eroded, the transition is somewhat fluid. A perforated skin allows a breeze and a few specks of rain to trickle into semi-outdoor spaces, making inhabitants aware of the elements that surround them.
This ‘semi-outdoor’ space is loosely veiled by a permeable skin, not thermally insulated but provided with enough enclosure to make such activities as dry sailing tuition comfortable upon an undulating platform. Corrugated metal cladding closes its perforations as it wraps entirely internal spaces, its shallow pitched roof deflecting winds to keep the pontoon steady. The skin is cropped around the foot of the buildings, a ribbon of glass allowing low winter sunlight to reflect off the water’s surface and penetrate deep into the plan. Summer sun is collected via rooflights and bounced down into internal spaces.
roles of detachment
February 15th, 2011 | Richard Almond
Considering the detachable pontoons and reasons behind their detachment. Firstly the club house, the pontoon furthest from the land when the building is its linear formation – this pontoon may be towed out into the firth to act as a floating Regatta starting/observation platform. The wet tuition pontoon may also be towed into the firth to act as a tuition in deeper water. This pontoon doubles up as the marine research station in the winter months, where it may be towed to the required location along the Reykjavik water front. The boat house is the final detachable pontoon, this may be towed across the harbour during the off-season to the boat repair workshop, a separate project being undertaken by a classmate.
