Government district

While most office-bound people are currently sitting at home in their home office, work on the construction site continues as usual. Our author Mark Kammerbauer reflects on the extraordinary and the self-evident, on normality and exception – and what architects are contributing to overcoming the crisis. The crisis is here, we are all experiencing it and are […]

While most office-bound people are currently sitting at home in their home office, work on the construction site continues as usual. Our author Mark Kammerbauer reflects on the extraordinary and the self-evident, on normality and exception – and what architects are contributing to overcoming the crisis.

The crisis is here, we are all experiencing it and are affected by it in many different ways. The state responses to it vary from nation to nation, but what they mostly have in common is restricting physical contact and virus-related transmission routes in public spaces. This is generally summarized under the term “social distancing”. This has led many scientists in my social media environment to point out that it is more a matter of “spatial distancing”. In other words, spatial distancing, because social contacts are still possible. This statement is all the more true when working from home under quarantine-like conditions. It is not for nothing that some teleconferencing software is currently experiencing its 15 minutes of fame.

In fact, this period will probably last a little longer than 15 minutes. What is already clear is that the lockdown is bringing many sectors of the economy to a standstill and forcing them to make adjustments. Restaurants are preparing food for takeaway. Airlines are receiving state aid. Creative people are and will remain creative and will also hopefully receive aid if necessary. But what about the construction sites? After all, they are an important arena for the work of architects. Conversations with architects in my personal circle of friends have made me realize this: On the construction site during the crisis is before the crisis – or, possibly, after the crisis. In other words, there doesn’t seem to be a lockdown on the construction site.

This realization came en passant, because you don’t call your friends and ask, “Are you also going to your construction site?” Rather, you want to know if they are healthy. Then suddenly, in a subordinate clause, “I’m on the building site at the moment, by the way.” This subordinate clause reveals that what is taken for granted is, well, taken for granted. In the current situation, however, the self-evident is the extraordinary, and that is quite remarkable. Or, in another phone call: “We’re getting lots of inquiries about changes of use at the moment.” You can guess what that means: the existing tenants will probably not be able to sit out the crisis in their current rented premises. Which points to a broader set of social, economic and, not least, political circumstances surrounding the Covid-19 crisis.

Death metal records help, but life goes on

How long will the lockdown continue? A look at Austria is revealing here. Only recently, the social partners in the construction industry reached an agreement on an eight-point catalog of stricter protective measures for all those involved on construction sites. The union had called for a construction site shutdown due to a lack of guidelines on how to deal with the Covid-19 pandemic. The measures agreed include increased occupational hygiene, organizational measures or protection during activities that require distances of less than one meter. The Austrian social partners are an association of various stakeholders, including the trade union and the Chamber of Commerce, comparable to the German social partnership and the parties to collective agreements.

Within my own four walls, the Dahoam office is currently the middle section of a construction site sandwich: in the basement, concrete walls are being diligently sawn up to create new passageways; the laundry room, which was previously located in the attic, is moving there to make way for new apartments at the top. My old death metal records help against the noise. And as Entombed used to say: “But life goes on.” So if lockdown is the norm and building site operations are the exception, at least the architects can claim to be doing their bit to overcome the crisis – without any pathos. And in the same tone of voice, to everyone involved in the construction industry: master the crisis, stay healthy.

Tip from the STEIN editorial team:
You can also find this and similar articles, which may be of interest to architects and everyone else involved in the construction industry, in the newly created online home office special from our colleagues at the architecture magazine Baumeister. In addition to our STEIN Corona industry ticker at www.stein-magazin.de/corona-was-nun on current economic and work organization developments here on the homepage, the Baumeister editorial team now offers a free daily home office special newsletter with construction and architecture stories. You can subscribe here: https:
//www.baumeister.de/homeoffice-spezial/

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Concrete triad

Building design

The main house Bahía Azul

Three commissions for one property: Felipe Assadi Arquitectos designed a vacation home with an art studio for the private tennis court – in concrete.

Felipe Assadi Arquitectos received three commissions from a private client. Three different concrete buildings are now located on a plot of land on Chile’s coast: a pavilion for a private tennis court, a vacation home and a separate art studio.

On the so-called “Ruta del Mar”, a stretch of coast in Chile’s Valparaíso region, there are many villages where mainly wealthy Chileans have vacation homes. A little further north is Los Vilos, a port town with a population of 18,000. The four-person architecture firm Felipe Assadi Arquitectos was commissioned to create three buildings there for a client. The complex, which was completed in 2014, consists of a main house (Casa Bahía Azul) with an art studio (Taller de Pintura) and a multi-purpose building next to a tennis court (Pabellón 4 Usos) on the property.

Bahía Azul house

The Bahía Azul house consists of two layers: an outer concrete façade with small incisions and an independent glass façade behind it, which forms the physical boundary to the interior. In between, an access area is created as a wind-protected outdoor space that can also be used as a terrace. In addition, the concrete façade achieves what the glass façade behind it would not: it stands at an angle on the slope and absorbs its gradient without touching the ground. The most remarkable features of the building are probably the differently framed views created by the two layers of glass façade and the concrete wall in front.

Taller de Pintura art studio

The commission also included a studio for the client’s ex-wife, who is an artist by profession. She approached Felipe Assadi with a clear idea of what the view of the sea from her studio should look like. So first there was the window, which was to be framed by concrete walls to showcase the view of the sea.

In contrast to the main house, the Atelier Taller de Pintura is dug into the hillside. This positioning in the hill means that the view is directed towards the sea. Felipe Assadi allows the house to almost disappear into the slope by burying the staircase in the hillside, so that the roof continues the slope. The architect describes the studio as a “mini version” of another design he is currently working on – this one also digs into the slope and is intended to disappear even more into nature than the art studio (design for the Ochoalcubo project from page 80). The steps leading to the art studio in Los Vilos are individual elements set into the slope – so you can look through them to the piece of earth you are buried in. Even if no more art is created here, the building is not useless – there is a kitchen and a bathroom so that it also functions as a guest house.

You can find out more about the third building on the plot, the Pabellón 4 Usos, in Baumeister 2/2016

Photos: Fernando Alda

Zurich, B2 Boutique Hotel + Spa

Building design

On the Hürlimann site in Zurich-Enge, architects Margrit Althammer and René Hochuli have turned the listed walls of a brewery into a hotel for “business nomads with an affinity for architecture”.

On the Hürlimann site in Zurich-Enge, architects Margrit Althammer and René Hochuli have turned the listed walls of a brewery into a design hotel for “business nomads with an affinity for architecture”. Anyone who likes a touch of industrial flair is in good hands here.

Every stay at the B2 should actually begin in the evening darkness and at the very top, on the roof. This is where the heated pool welcomes guests. Under a clear starry sky, they can let their gaze wander over the city and enjoy the magnificent panorama. Where better to plan a tour of the city with the Grossmünster and Prime Tower in view? But most of those arriving will probably stumble over the cobblestones in broad daylight towards the chimney of the old boiler house – a signpost visible from afar.

To say one thing straight away: no, it no longer smells of barley. Inside, a few visual details remind us of the design hotel’s previous history as a brewery. The first thing that catches the eye are the elongated arched windows that provide the library and wine bar with natural light. Unfortunately, the rooms in the former brewhouse refer only sparingly to their history: only photographs by Jochen Splett show the former premises in an alienated way.

More of the brewery spirit can be felt in the eight suites, which are located in the former cooling ship and are designed as a house within a house. As they were installed like boxes detached from the shell, guests on the balcony can see the steel ribs of the old construction stretching above their heads. The expansive view over Zurich is further enhanced by iron slats that provide shade. In a corridor, behind glass, you can still marvel at the remains of an old wall that has been stripped of its plaster and bears witness to various interventions.

Books are scattered throughout the building: The 33,000 copies come from an antiquarian bookshop and are also stacked on tables and used as bedtime reading in the rooms. Among the books available for me are “Beautiful old beer drinking vessels”, “Castles of Europe” and “Stay young, live longer!” The latter – a diet book from the post-war period – is not the best way to set the mood for a delicious breakfast the next morning.

The designers of the interior – ushitamborriello – obviously took the fact that the B2 is mainly frequented by well-dressed business travelers into account when planning the “breakfast room”. Because you dine in the library – visually appealingly framed by the antiquarian book collection, under chandeliers made of matt green beer bottles, but the area is not separated from the reception hall. On the contrary: elevated and well staged by the lights, you sit on a platter. A careless style of dress would be unpleasant for both sides of the spectacle.

Unless you visit the thermal baths in the vaulted cellar, it is advisable to flee from the area to the city. Although various furniture stores and temples of well-being have set up shop on the brewery site alongside the celebrity tenant Google, they are all eerily empty, at least during my stay. The rest of the immediate surroundings are not very attractive either: Chinese snack bars and blocks of flats are not exactly inviting for a stroll and a nightcap. It’s a good thing that you don’t have to look for a bar in the area anyway: you can get your beer – Hürlimann brand, of course – on tap at the hotel.

Address

B2 Boutique Hotel + Spa
Brandschenkestrasse 152
CH-8002 Zurich
www.b2boutiquehotels.com