raya y punto
Architecture, photography & design
D I E G O I G L E S I A S G O M E Z
raya y punto
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moma:

Gustav Klimt, born today in 1862, is primarily known for his paintings of figures, but he also painted landscapes throughout his career. 

[Gustav Klimt. The Park. 1910 or earlier.]
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razorshapes:

Elisabeth Sunday
razorshapes:

Elisabeth Sunday
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whiteperiphery:

The Presence of Absence, 2014Vinyl tape and dried flower.
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archidose:

ligeti’s’ room
amid.cero9
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WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
WILDER MANN by Charles Fréger
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miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
miamou:

Since I felt quite intrigued by Mr. Meneguzzo’s project, I stuck my nose into his site and tried to find all his gorgeous Hindu cows.
Thank you





berndwuersching and mu-is-coming for pushing me in that direction
Mia
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youhavebeerinyourbeard:

Perfection
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viviendacolectiva-upct:

DILLER & SCOFIDIO: Increasing disorder in a dining table
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free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
free-parking:

Casilda Sanchez — As Inside as the Eye can See, video, 2009

The video installation presents two eyes trying to see each other as close as they can. The avidity of “seeing” the “other”, of entering in his/her space and trying to understand, or even share, the other person’s intimacy through the gaze turns out to be an effort in vain because without distance we cannot see. We find ourselves in a paradox: so close but unable to see more than a blurred image. The gaze becomes now more of an haptic sense, perceiving the other not through the sight but through the rubbing between the eyelashes. The resulting image embodies a physical eye that beats, touches and relates intimately.
+
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
diego-iggo:

PRE-IDENTITY vs POST-IDENTITY 
Architecture for renovating Fukushima
Master in Architecture - Kengo Kuma studio
Winter 2013 - 東京大学  The University of Tokyo
·
Project description
A massive change of scale has taken place in Fukushima. Before the 11th March 2011, Fukushima was a quiet land of rice farmers and fishermen. If you type ‘Fukushima prefecture’ in Wikipedia, you will barely find any information of this area before 2011. Does this mean it did not exist before? Of course not. Before the nuclear meltdown, Fukushima belonged to the people that lived in it. Now, Fukushima belongs to the world, as this catastrophe affects us all.
A clear image of Fukushima has been created in everyone’s mind. When we say that name we immediately see the power plant’s chimneys with white smoke coming out of them. But even though this image is so clear, the real knowledge of Fukushima and the nuclear crisis in more like a blurred cloud. Self-contradictory information is everywhere and official and reliable sources are very difficult to find. Therefore nobody can really know what is really going on in Fukushima. Or at least nobody that has not been there.
In Fukushima prefecture, time seems to have frozen after March 2011. Just nature continues to grow slowly over the abandoned cities. These razed cities are completely isolated. No services nor transportation is available any more. Curious wander around the ruins while researchers confine themselves in shelters while locals wonder how they will recover their cities back. A very awkward atmosphere can be felt, marked by the invisible sign of radioactivity.
The network of relations and connections that define reality has been broken. The physical connections, with the implementation of border lines that define territories. The physiological relations, between the people and their home land. The productive chains, now stopped as the ground is polluted. Entire communities have been split apart and now people are only individuals and the actions they take to get over the tragedy is minimized.
An architecture for renovating Fukushima must be an architecture of networks. Understanding architecture as the sum of variable networks, assuming the physical and virtual complexity of our world and therefore re-thinking the way we understand our cities, the people that live them and the relation between this two factors is vital to comprehend reality and hence be capable of acting on and improving the cities we live in. Architecture has always been a response to its context, not only to the physical conditions given by its location but also to the socio-cultural context wherever it appears. 
The background of this project is focused on the recovery of the broken communication among the different towns along Fukushima prefecture’s shore line such as Tomioka, Ono, Futaba or Namie. The JR Jōban Line used to connect all these villages, but it was damaged by the tsunami and has not been reconstructed yet. The train line has proven to be inefficient in terms of resisting a tsunami as it was very close to the shore line. The traces of the rails are kept but the transportation system changes. After an deep research in urban transportation systems, a suspended cable car proves to be the most efficient in terms of tsunami prevention as well as the speed/capacity relation. Moreover, this system requires an easy-construction infrastructure far cheaper than others.
Along this “high-line”, the stations appear as growing structures elevated from the ground level. These stations would not only be stations, but would also act as reactivation centers for the Fukushima shore line. The program works as an organic structure that grows in time as the needs in the different locations change. Against multifunctional spaces, very specific preexisting programs are chosen to be implemented in this area, covering the productive, industrial and service sectors. Furthermore, a series of transversal activities, related to the cultural development, are also implemented.
Having chosen the programs, they are assigned a code to work with them in an abstract way. To define the physical and virtual relations among this enormous variety, the codes are ordered by diagramatic combination around ten main concepts which are believed to be essential for the recovery of this area: forget, exchange, interact, redefine, grow, reactivate, train, experiment, investigate and remember; and also to the kind of users they are thought for: researchers, tourists or locals. This is how the growing shape of the structure is defined, generating very interesting situations by overlaying and juxtaposing extremely different programs for different kind of users that surprisingly combine with each other in this complex shape.
The building is no longer conceived as a building but as the materialization of physical and virtual networks shaped in a changing structure that combines locals with tourists and researchers to regenerate the pre-existing communities and stimulate new interrelations based in the changing situation of Fukushima.
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from89:

Cloud-like landscape made of foam by Kohei Nawa 
from89:

Cloud-like landscape made of foam by Kohei Nawa 
from89:

Cloud-like landscape made of foam by Kohei Nawa 
from89:

Cloud-like landscape made of foam by Kohei Nawa 
from89:

Cloud-like landscape made of foam by Kohei Nawa