Chicago - A Clear View

As I child growing up in a suburb of Chicago, I did not spend a lot of time in the city.  There were special occasions like baseball games @ Wrigley Field, a field trip from school or a family outing that brought us downtown.  One of my earliest recollections of the city was in about 1971 when the Sears Tower (now Willis Tower) was under construction and my dad took the three “older kids” downtown to see the building under construction.  It was awe-inspiring to look up at that incredible structure and realize it was going to be the tallest building in the world (at that time).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willis_Tower

During high school, my friends and I were fanatical about going downtown.  We learned the bus routes and elevated train/subway routes to get to Water Tower Place (of course, shopping) and Oak Street Beach.  I don’t think we were forthcoming with our parents about what we were up to most of the time – they probably would not have allowed it.  Although, times were definitely different then! 

We would sit on the beach sunbathing, play Frisbee and volleyball.  My friends would look at downtown as if it was unremarkable – “the city”.  I looked at the buildings and knew I wanted to somehow be part of the field of architecture. 

During my undergrad years, whenever I came home from college for a weekend or for the summer (University of Illinois is about 140 miles away) I always felt drawn to the city.  Driving into Chicago from the western suburbs, there is a clear view of the skyline visible from several miles out.  The city developed along the lakefront, so it is long and linear from north to south, and radiates out to the north, west and south.  Chicago is the 3^rd largest city in the United States after New York and Los Angeles (Boston is 20^th and Minneapolis is 48^th), so even the close-in suburbs feel dense and urban.  

My brother (now an urban planner, but at that time a history major) and I would often head downtown and walk into every building that was open.  We would explore the lobbies, the elevators (always ornately designed), the courtyards.  My favorite accidental discovery was the Rookery Building (Burnham and Root, 1888).  I could not believe no one ever mentioned this building to me – it was incredible.  (Photos below from http://www.therookerybuilding.com/building-timeline.html )

After college, my husband, our son and I moved to Minneapolis and trips into Chicago occurred less frequently.  My husband’s grandmothers both lived on the north side near the lake, so we would typically at least drive past the city and see the skyline if we did not have time for a stop in the Loop.  Our son (now a meteorologist) was interested in science, so we would occasionally head to the Museum of Science and Industry or the Planetarium when we were in Chicago.  These museums are situated along the lakefront, so I was able to get my favorite lake view of the city from the museum sites.   

One of our favorite stops was Buckingham Fountain, where there was a light show most summer evenings (as a kid, there was a human being who controlled it; when my son was little they had a computerized program that changed the lights while music was playing!). 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buckingham_Fountain

For many years, that was my interaction with Chicago.  Every once in a while I would get into town for something work related (Neocon at the Merchandise Mart, the National AIA Convention in 1993) and that was when I started to look at Chicago from a different perspective.   We have lived in Minneapolis since I was in my mid-twenties.  Now that I am older and have much more architecture and planning experience, I am able to take a more informed view of cities. 

My earlier Chicago experience was very emotional and personal.  Since I travel quite a bit (for my job and personally), I have had opportunities to visit many US cities numerous times in recent years.  I can now look at Chicago through an objective lens  in comparison to New York, Boston, Portland (OR), Seattle, Denver and of course Minneapolis.  There is a definite hustle and bustle to Chicago – energy and personality that feel both businesslike and friendly.  People in Chicago will actually look at you and say hello on the sidewalk.  That doesn’t typically happen on the coasts, but it does happen in Minneapolis. 

Mayor Daley the second (Richard M.) has been a force in getting the city to think differently about development – he vowed to make Chicago “the greenest city in America”.  (http://www.greenroofs.com/projects/pview.php?id=21 )  He is a supporter and advocate for sustainable growth and on his watch many new programs have been established – including a “green permit” program, which allows applicants to have an expedited review if they commit to certain sustainable strategies for their project. 

Since 2004, the view of Buckingham Fountain as you look north towards Grant Park has changed by the addition of Millennium Park’s Pritzker Pavilion (Frank Gehry) and the Bean Sculpture (“Cloud Gate” by Anish Kapoor) that draws people in to interact with its shiny surfaces and unique twisted views of the city and the people.    The addition of Millennium Park has revitalized the loop and brought it into the 21^st century.  It got people talking about and visiting downtown again – even Chicago natives who rarely get into the Loop took a special trip to see the new fountains, sculpture and pavilion. 

It’s amazing what a spin that addition to the city has caused.  I’m not sure how many skyscrapers and convention center additions it would take to capture people’s attention so strongly.  And there have definitely been several of those projects in the past 25 years!

The city has strength in its built environment, most likely caused by how it formed along the edge of the lake.  The lake helps to give a clarity and identity to Chicago that would not be there otherwise – an edge with a clear view of the skyline.   And if city planners can continue to draw more people to the Loop – the center of the city – by creative planning and vision, that will only strengthen Chicago’s image in my mind. 

Minneapolis and Lost Space

In my last post, I talked about what I love about living in Minneapolis.  However, there are some things that I would change if I could, in order to define the essence of this city. 

Downtown and just outside of downtown, there are some wonderful architectural examples – The MPLS Public Library, the Walker Art Center, the Guthrie Theatre, the Weisman Museum, the MPLS Institute of Arts – with “lost space” (a la Roger Trancik, 1986) in between them.  Starchitecture (Gehry, Pelli, Johnson, Herzog + DeMeuron, Nouvel) is scattered all around, with no synergy to the venues.  They are too far apart to logically connect them.  It is not necessarily a problem, but an opportunity.  We have all of these great places - what if they WERE connected?  Would that make the city stronger?

With regard to the lost spaces, here is a story:  I once went to an AIA meeting at International Market Square (MPLS’ Merchandise Mart) and had to walk to work downtown after the meeting.  In between the two spaces, which are about a mile apart, I walked under a highway viaduct, over a railroad bridge, past a homeless shelter, a seedy bar and a municipal complex.  Then, another highway bridge and I was finally on the edge of downtown, next to a parking lot.  As it sits currently, it is not a pleasant pedestrian experience, not a “walkable” part of town. 

The alternative to walking - bus or rail transit - is not readily available there.  A bus line goes past downtown but not into the city, so it could get you partway there.  We do not have a comprehensive transit system in Minneapolis.  There are glimmers of transit – we have busses, and light rail and BRT (bus rapid transit) lanes on one of our major highways, but it is somewhat disjointed and people cannot easily transfer from one mode to another.  We have bike trails, but they are not continuous throughout parts of the city.  There are some areas that are fully connected – you could ride your bicycle for hours along the Grand Rounds trail which connects the lakes and the Mississippi River and never crosses the same spot twice.  And other areas where the trail abruptly ends, and unless you know you need to cross the street to get back on it, you are confused about what to do next. 

The Park Board randomly upgrades and neglects parks, trails, roads, paths.  There is disparity in attention paid to older parks if another hot new project is on the table.  Granted, there are a LOT of parks in MPLS – it’s pretty incredible the amount of green space in the city.  But if every park received the same amount of care and attention, there would be a consistency that is not there today. 

There are some strange and uncomfortable spaces downtown including a dining courtyard at Panera Bread (see photos), the atrium at City Center and Block E (a less than successful restaurant and entertainment venue).  These are interspersed with some wonderful, vibrant downtown spaces like IDS Crystal Court (see photos), Peavey Plaza, Gold Medal Park along the riverfront and Target Plaza next to the new Twins Stadium. 



Panera courtyard as viewed from the skyway across the street (FEB 2011)




Panera as viewed from the atrium across the street




Panera as viewed from the street (Nicollet Mall - downtown Minneapolis)




Panera Courtyard - strangely multi-leveled; transitional outdoor space with enclosure on 4 sides; uncomfortable dining space in summer because people are always walking past on their way into or out of the restaurant. 





IDS Crystal court (Philip Johnson, 1974) - exterior plaza space




IDS Tower - Philip Johnson, 1974



There is inconsistency in how the city has developed, giving the impression of “design by committee” - not a comprehensive vision, but a series of individual visions with no underlying theme.  I believe that accurately describes what actually happened in the development of Minneapolis.  As I look at the city today, I see a fracturing of the urban fabric that can be mended.  As I develop the ideas within my thesis, I will explore the idea of connection. 

Emerald City - Minneapolis

When we moved to Minneapolis in April of 1989, the terrain was smothered in snow – about 24 inches everywhere.  As the spring thaw came, so did the most brilliant emerald greens and chartreuses you ever saw.  (Is it really almost March?  This is coming up quickly – so be ready!)  Growing up in Chicagoland, I did not see many weeping willow trees, but here they are abundant.  If you never noticed, pay special attention this year – they are always the first to show color and start the spring kaleidoscope going.  I’m convinced that the more extreme our winters are, the more dazzling the spring colors. 

One of the spectacular images (one that I get to see several times a week all year round) is the sun rising behind the downtown skyline as I drive in from the west.  The silhouette of the city.  Minneapolis is a beautiful city to view from this distance, given the essential flatness of the prairie terrain and the way the city bursts up from the land.

Once downtown, the size of the city is manageable and walkable.  A person can walk almost anywhere downtown in less than an hour.  Since I’m in the heart of downtown at work, I can get anywhere in 30 minutes or less.  The skyways are great in the winter – or on super-hot or super rainy days.  The skyway system has been described as a giant mall (or human gerbil trails).  It’s a little of both. 

Despite the economy, the city is still vibrant – in the past couple of years we opened a new Twins Ballpark (Target Field) and a new stadium at the University of Minnesota (known fondly as “The U”).  Sustainability is a major influencer here, and both were built following LEED principles.  And they are beautiful, well-functioning facilities.  There is a renewed excitement to the city that was not there a few years ago. 

Minneapolis is currently holding the honor of the number 1 bicycle city.  We have been neck and neck with Portland, Oregon, and finally surpassed them.  There is a public bicycle rental program called “Nice Ride” where anyone can rent a bicycle for any length of time from special bike racks located all around.  The entire city is amply supplied with bicycle trails. 

So… walking, skyways, biking – all ways to connect to and within the city.  As I have been researching the city I live and work in, it struck me that there is no clarity or synthesis to the Minneapolis culture.  The city is a bunch of different things to different people.  So  – why do I like it?  What should be celebrated?  Can a building bring that clarity? Can an intervention placed at the confluence of the major walkways and paths add what seems to be missing today? 

The Way Things Could Be

“Design is about looking at the future, thinking about the way things could be. Planning is about figuring out the steps we need to take to achieve where we want to go.   …

…a lot of people don't realize the way designers work. You do a lot of research, develop some ideas, and then you put them up for critique and people try to shoot them down, saying: "This won't work. You've got to change that." You do it again and again. It's an iterative process, and by the time you've gone through many phases of it you've got a solution that basically nobody can find many flaws with.” 

Tom Fisher, Dean of the College of Design, University of Minnesota

The_Line_Media_MSP@mail.vresp.com  

What Tom Fisher says is relevant to the thesis process – "thinking about the way things could be".  Thesis is about the idea and the steps to get there.  I am going to spend time this week thinking about my vision for connection in Minneapolis.  How can we connect the relevant pieces of downtown?  Why should they be connected? And what criteria will be used to determine which sites are relevant to this project? 

I am thinking in terms of destinations – museums, theatres, music venues, sporting venues, parks, plazas and gardens. 

Why should they be connected?  What will the benefit of connection be?  There is a certain energy inherent in each of these places today.  If they were considered an essential piece of the whole that is Minneapolis, rather than just one destination, it could make them stronger draws for tourism and entertainment, and create a synergy that is not present today. 

I’m working on the research piece this week.  My first draft of a plan is attached – the attractions/destinations from the Walker Art Center (south end) to the Mill City Museum (river) and University of Minnesota Campus.

[Note:  I will also post to VT for your viewing convenience.]

3 SITES IN MINNEAPOLIS

It’s the connection that matters.

There will always be many insides and one very big outside, but it’s the connection that makes an architectural experience memorable. 

And, okay, there are also some in-betweens and there is also outer space.  But I would like to focus on the connections.

Connections between inside and outside, connections to community, connections to history, connections to landscape, connections to the city.

 

In Minneapolis, there are three locations I will be exploring - 2 near the riverfront and one on the southern edge of the central business district in downtown Minneapolis. 

The Mississippi River is a strong geographical element in the Twin Cities - sometimes considered a connector and sometimes a barrier.  There is a rich history surrounding the river and  great opportunity in redeveloping some of the land near the river. 

My 2 river-based sites are:

1) a parking lot 3 blocks from the west bank, at the intersection of Hennepin and Washington Avenues.

2) Boom Island Park, a public park that has great potential to serve as a connector to the central city from the east bank.

My third site is Peavey Plaza, at the intersection of Nicollet Mall and 11th Street.  I became intrigued with this site during my Urban Design class in Semester 1.  This is a neighborhood and community connector, and with a new addition planned at
adjacent Orchestra Hall there is an opportunity to bring something uniquely “Minneapolis” to this site.  

inside| outside

If you were inside and your friend was outside, and the wall between you was solid, you would not know they were there.  Presumably, depending on how you got into the space in the first place, you might not even know if you were above or below grade when inside the building.

One tiny window could give you the perspective you need to understand your place in the world.  A large glass door even more so.  

I believe that in order to define a successful inside|outside connection, a designer must understand what activities will take place on each side of the wall/connection.   Horizontal connections can be exclusive if they are set too high for some or too low for others.  Vertical connections can serve anyone at any height. 

Daylight, views + direct connections

Even in a completely enclosed space the tiniest pinhole of light seeping into the room can give the space depth and give the occupant comfort.  In thinking about connections from inside to outside, is it enough to have daylight entering in, even if you cannot see where it comes from?  Is Solatube the right answer to getting people their essential daylight? 

glass blocks - obscure but bright; bring daylight into a workshop

I believe given a choice between no light and Solatube, most people would pick the Solatube.  But if an architect wants to give people a sense of comfort and a sense of place, then a visual connection is essential.  And if you want to give people a space that they can have the ultimate control of their environment, then they should have a physical as well as a visual connection to the space outside. 

Can the front door be the only connection to the outside?  In some instances, it might be the best choice.   Certainly some places are better suited to views of the landscape than others.  But even a small deck or balcony that is built for only one person to sit or stand and catch some fresh air is much better than a dark enclosed room with no connection to the exterior.  Fresh air in the central business district or a dense urban environment is still fresh air.  Even though the landscape is paved in urban areas, it is still the landscape – just a little less grassy. 

I believe that people need shelter, too.  I’m not advocating we all live outside, which would obviously be the extreme connection to the earth.  Nor am I advocating that we should all live on farms or communes or vast open countryside.  I just think we need to connect to our surroundings, and that buildings should be built to complement, connect to and strengthen the existing context. 

AIRPORT SECURITY LINES - 2/3/11

How can the airport security lines be comprehensively redesigned to best serve the traveling public? 

What are the current challenges with the security process? 

• Manual checking, human interaction required
• Long lines due to limits of human speed
• Clumsy and cumbersome activities
• No one-size-fits-all solution
• Everyone carries different things - different quantities, sizes and shapes of personal belongings
• Start with all together/spread it all out/repack so all is together again
• Undress/redress
• Know which things go in bins, which things need to be separated from the other things, which clothing to remove
• Extra challenging for families with small children/strollers; elderly; medical implants/pacemakers; wheelchairs
• The current security process was established in the past 10 years – most airports were built several decades ago, and thus are trying to fit a long, linear process into a short space.

What are some of the physical requirements of the process?

• Space to walk through for identity check from TSA agent
• Agent podium with light, desktop to view boarding pass and ID
• Space to undress, unpack, rearrange all of your belongings
• Roller belt to send your belongings through x-ray
• Security gate to walk through yourself
• Conveyor Belt to collect your belongings on the other end and reassemble
• Space on “back end” for TSA agents to physically search a passenger with unique issues
• Stand-up x-ray machines being introduced in some airports
• Benches or chairs to use to retie shoes, rearrange belongings, etc.
• Space to redress/reassemble.

What are some of the regulatory issues affecting design?

• TSA agent must manually check your ID
• Other TSA agents must be present in case a physical search is required.
• Other TSA agent is reviewing your belongings as they move past on the conveyor to make sure you are bringing the acceptable items, they are separated properly for scanning. 
• Other TSA agent waves you through the security scanner or directs you on the proper stance for the stand-up x-ray. 
• Liquids and gels must be in a quart sized baggie, and cannot exceed 3 ounces each.
• Laptops must be separated and placed in their own bin.
• Shoes must be removed.
• Bulky sweaters, jackets, sweatshirts, scarves must be removed.
• Typically belts and large pieces of jewelry, including metal watches, must be removed.
• Pockets must be clear of keys, change, cell phones, etc.
• Beverages are not allowed unless they are baby formula or milk; prescription drugs in their labeled containers, etc.
• People with special needs can request physical search in lieu of walking thru the scanner.

Small brain-dump of security concepts:

• IDEA 1

What if the process was automated and when you picked up your boarding pass or when you walked into the airport, you ran your boarding pass through a scanner and they told you which checkpoint to go to?  Once at the line, you scanned your boarding pass and ID and got into the line.  (That would give you time to say goodbye to loved ones in between, etc.)

Then – what if the line was equipped with a tiered cart that you could place your bag onto and reallocate laptops, liquids, etc. as you walked toward the scanner.   There would be a place for your shoes in the bin, and a place to hang your coat or sweater.  You would simply walk next to your cart and then pick it up on the other side of the scanner.  No messy bins or balancing acts trying to pull your laptop out of your bag as you are taking off your shoes and coat.

On the other side of the security line, the cart would have a conveyor that sent it to the front of the line. 

• IDEA 2
  What if there were smiling happy greeters and they were there to assist you (especially the first-timers)?
  What if there was a moderate speed conveyor that you could walk next to the whole time through security?  After going past the TSA agent, you immediately had a conveyor to place your belongings on and start to unravel them.  You could have a less stressful and physically challenging event, since you would reduce the balancing-act part of the process.  Currently, the belts on the lobby side of the security line are much shorter than on the gate side. 
  
  What if there was a special line for infrequent travelers that gave them a “how to” guidance along the way?  Basically, a tutorial as you walked next to the conveyor.  For each item, they would push an “okay” button as they did the task.  (Place your laptop in its own bin.  “okay” now, make sure all liquids and gels are placed in a bin … etc.)
  What if after you passed through security there was a lounge space that you could stop and catch your breath instead of running through, and feeling pressured to collect everything as fast as you can?

spaces and air - Groundhog Day 2/2/11

spaces and air

On the way to Portland, the sky was clear the entire flight.  Looking down as we left Minneapolis, the earth was snow-covered and frozen, a bright white wrapper over all of the topography.   After a while, it became a quilted landscape - subtle tones of earth across the western states – circles and squares that identify farm boundaries and property lines.   I could see pale blue lakes and snow covered mountains that look as if they have just burst out from the depths of the earth. 

This expanse of air and space is infinite. The plane that I am traveling in is a tiny, tiny piece of space. 

Every mode of transport has such different dimensional qualities.  I have been in cars, buses and several buildings over the past two days.  Each space is unique – my hotel room was 40 feet deep by 12 feet wide by 12 feet tall!  For just me! 

The dimensions/proportions of spaces can give people a sense of awe, comfort, freedom, happiness, excitement, peace.  Spaces are most successful when they are proportional to the activities that take place in them.  Cars are an example of spaces that should be proportioned large enough for a person to fit, but not so large that the person cannot see the road from the driver’s seat or so that they are too big for the width of the road. 

Buildings/vehicles/rooms should be the right size for the functions they serve.  How do we discover the right size?  That is a question I will start to explore.

Airport Experiences

I will be heading to Portland this week, so another couple of days of travel for me.  This will provide me with some added insight to the guest experience of airports...  today I am considering the comprehensive process of flying somewhere.  From leaving your home or office to arrival in your destination city. 

I believe that a few of the tasks required for air travel are major sources of psychological and/or physical stress.  Those include heading to the airport; making sure your bags meet regulations (for weight and contents); making sure you are in the correct line for security; undressing/rearranging everything on the conveyor belt; reassembling all of your belongings and redressing.  For some people, it is physically challenging to perform these tasks.  For others it is unnerving due to their country of origin.  For others it is so routine that they occasionally gloss over a step and have to submit to additional searches. 

Is it ever NOT stressful to travel by air?  Even if a person likes traveling, there is still a higher stress level for them on a travel day than on a non-travel day.  There are more things to track on travel days and therefore more things to potentially lose track of. 

Our BAC Intensive experiences are an example of one travel extreme - 10 days away from home, with large quantities of clothing and art supplies and books that we need to bring along.  I had two bags (one huge) and a large briefcase.  My trips to Chicago for work tend to be one day in and out which are the other extreme - no suitcase at all; it's like a workday commute. 

This week I will be considering the process, tasks and where the environment could be altered to lessen the stress of the passengers.  The security line is an in-between space with a definite function and set of spatial requirements.  How can we (as architects) make people happy (or at least less unhappy) while they are in that line? 

Transition and Connection

Today, I have been out photographing what was originally supposed to be the "in-between" and at some point during the day I found that transition and connection fascinate me most.  There can very well not BE an in-between space, but simply a threshold that links the inside to the outside, or a window that visually connects the occupant from one side to the other.  Those types of transitions can be as successful as a formal vestibule or terraced deck. 

I found spaces that were transitional but completely outside (Brower Hatcher's Prophecy of the Ancients)
...and a space that seemed to transition from inside to outside, but it was really an illusion (Chris Larson's Unnamed - wood structure).

I even found an igloo.  VERY outside, but there is a definite threshold and shelter which give it an inside.

When you think about it, the spaces that I labelled as "in-between" in yesterday's post are mostly transitional spaces, or have a link or connection from inside to outside.  Some transitions are successful and some not as much.  What I am beginning to explore is what makes a transition successful.

in-BETWEENS

Thoughts on the In-Between

Last week in Boston, I came upon a potential Thesis topic of inside/outside and the in-between spaces.  Since I have been an architect for over 20 years, I have had a lot of opportunity to work on the insides of buildings.  Especially with my role at HGA of interior architect and my current work at Target on developer shell projects.  I have always been fascinated with how the landscape touches a building (or vice-versa) and yet I have not had much experience with designing those connections or adjacencies.  I am also intrigued by the way a thoughtfully designed landscape can touch our senses – sight, smell, touch, hearing, taste.  The colors, textures, sounds of the branches blowing in the wind all can be carefully planned to create a certain sense of environment. 

Living in Minnesota, the ground can be snow-covered for 6 months of the year on average.  That means that these in-between spaces can be fascinating half of the year and disregarded, anonymous spaces the other half.

When books discuss these inside/outside connections they typically reference buildings in southern or temperate climates.  I want to consider what it would take for an exterior space to remain successful year-round in a northern climate.  This does not necessarily mean that I want to see people inhabiting the spaces at 20 below zero, but rather that the spaces are pleasing to view and create a visual interest during the “off-season” that would otherwise be lost or ignored.

When we moved up here from central Illinois 22 years ago, it did not take long to realize we lost about 8 weeks of warm weather compared to Urbana.  We bought and moved into our house without having any sense of what was below the 2 feet of snow-covered earth.  Our house was painted white with black trim, and virtually disappeared into the landscape.  As soon as it was warm enough, we added some color to the house by painting it warm grey with forest green and plum trim (very vogue in 1989!).  Everyone was impressed with our colorful house; people would stop by to congratulate us on the work we were doing.  It eventually inspired some of our neighbors to paint their white (translated: boring) houses as well.  In winters, our neighborhood was a little more lively and fun than the neighborhoods surrounding us because of this simple shift in the aesthetic norm. 

"old house" with pruprle and green trim

"new house" with front proch added to flat facade

backyard of "new house" - a clean slate with in-between potential

writing after Boston's intensive

The intensive was surprisingly intense.  Thinking about the in-between is very grey for me in my black and white world.  I'm trying to be comfortable in the greyness.  It takes a lot of energy at first, but I believe it will become more energizing as I continue down the in-between path.

I have been thinking about the space in-between and I'm off on another trip tomorrow - one day to Chicago and back.  Airplanes are very in-between. A one-hour flight and I'll be in Chicago... another one-hour flight and I'll be back home.

The El train is pretty in-between.  Taking the orange line from midway to the project site.  The project is an existing building in-between tenants. 

[look for some imagery in my next post.]

back to curious.

Wanting to complete the exploration of the Walker Art Center's plan, I have overlaid an image with an example of the meandering path.  There are three entries (parking garage, Hennepin and sculpture garden), but no matter which entry you enter into, you can meander around the museum almost never retracing your steps.

Prior to the addition, the plan was a basic rectangle (on the right side) and circulation was mostly vertical with stacked galleries above the auditorium space.  In the original building, stairs are used to circulate around the elevator core, so the galleries step up in pinwheel fashion.    

Commodity, Firmness and Delight.

(01-13-11:  added title, due to lack thereof.)

Good ideas in architecture are solid, problem-solving ideas.  As simple as a stair that gets you from one level to another or a door that gives you access into another space.  For these elements to be “great”, they would need to be awe-inspiring.  A stair that was intricately detailed or built with fine craftsmanship, like the projects that Peter Zumthor wrote about in his “Thinking Architecture” essay:  p.10 “… the precise and sensuous way they use materials.” or p. 14”… the quality of the finished object is determined by the quality of the joins.”  

Conceptual ideas in architecture would take the idea of stair or doorway and turn it upside-down (in the viewer’s perspective, not literally).  Just the element on its own would be inspiring.  

• A lovely, beautiful stair that elevates you up - functioning like an escalator, but elegant and well-crafted rather than industrial.  Maybe it goes slowly enough to experience fully a special view, or certain types of music are played at different times of the day as you ride up on this mechanism. 
• A door or window that is transparent, translucent or opaque at any given time.  You could program it to be transparent during the day and become opaque at night for privacy and safety.  It could be different colors, internally illuminated, kaleidoscope pattern, etc., etc.  It could change as your taste changed or when you got bored.  

 Conceptual ideas push the boundaries of what is commercially available to what is only yet conceivable – inventions – the integration of brainstorm ideas with functional needs. 
 

A good concept in architecture is a space or building that is first and foremost solidly functioning for its intended purpose, but secondly, it affects you on a profound level.  It could be that it is so well-crafted that people need to look closer at the details to understand how it works together.  It creates a stir and causes intrigue and interest beyond the space itself – visitors wonder why it was done the way it does or how it works or just feel better when they are there.  It could be that you so brilliantly solved the design problem that the space is simply sublime, and there is no more perfect solution - a la Vitruvius’ “commodity, firmness and delight”.   

Architecture that makes me curious…

Museums make me curious.   

So that must therefore mean the concept of a museum 

(to get people to come visit because they are curious about whatever is inside of it) 

works for me.   

One type of museum specifically makes me curious

- art museums.   

...art museums that lead you on a meandering path from which you never seem to backtrack -  you are always moving forward and yet you end up right back at the lobby where you started.  It’s intriguing.  

The Walker Art Center in Minneapolis is planned that way.  I love how you meander from room to room and each room has a different feel and different genre of art.  Somehow you know to keep walking in a certain direction – the next space draws you in so clearly that it feels strange to even backtrack enough  to catch the other side of a room.  

The exterior of the building in this case also makes a lot of people curious.  Is it an "ICE CUBE" or a "ROBOT MONKEY"?  or both?