氛圍、場景與學習空間淺析

納德·特拉尼

氛圍、場景與學習空間淺析

Ambiance, Mise en Scène, and the Space of Learning: An Abbreviated Account

納德·特拉尼

Nader Tehrani

緒言

院校理念與其所進行學習的空間——架構——之間的關系包含著一部鮮活的歷史 ，因為它引發(fā)了一個理論困境，這個困境根植于一個經(jīng)久不衰的建筑辯論的核心：即，形式與內(nèi)容以何種形式對話，是結盟、分離還是勉強契合。教學方法是否以某種方式從其所處的建筑物中產(chǎn)生？建筑物是否為某些教學方法搭建了舞臺？

將結構主義學派提出的教學方法與語言學類比，能指（形式）與所指（內(nèi)容）之間的關系是假定的。因此，兩者之間的寬泛契合為文化差異留有余地，這就使得諸如“cat”和“chat”之類的不同單詞可以指同一種毛茸茸的動物，而兩個不同語種中的相同單詞，如法語中的“chat”和英語中的“chat”，可能是指完全不同的事物。同理，隨著歷史潮流的變化，建筑形式所代表的含義也隨著時代的變遷有所不同。一年之前提及“白宮”可能具有完全不同的意味——依當時美國政府的管理實踐、管理哲學和貢獻而定——這是一個簡單的例子，因為當時的政府與現(xiàn)任總統(tǒng)的班底迥然不同。然而，作為一座建筑物來說，白宮無論在形式上，還是空間或材料上都沒有任何變化。

當然，作為建筑師，我們希望自己的設計是有意義的，沒有什么比“我們所做的東西充滿了假定性、不精確或不可控制”更加令人不安的想法， 為此，建筑師制定了詳盡的規(guī)范來確保設計的精準度。盡管如此，正是創(chuàng)作理念和作品認可度之間的不一致，在很大程度上擴大了思想和物質(zhì)世界間的隔閡。當馬格里特（Magritte René）寫出“這不是一個煙斗”（Ceci n'est pas une pipe）時，這句話作為宣言毫無爭議，但是在表象背后，它就成了建筑師時常面臨的一個并不客觀的文化符號。1）當然，語言上的類比到此為止，畢竟建筑物通過感官、認知和體驗，以各種各樣的方式與人類主體相互作用。因此，作為建筑師，我們的設計不僅僅是對現(xiàn)狀的反映，還具有影響并改變我們所生活的世界的可能，離開了這種責任，任何用理論來解釋我們所作所為的嘗試都是徒勞。2）

有趣的是，盡管某些機構的管理層和管理思想發(fā)生了變化，但其建筑物卻成了具有某種精神特質(zhì)的同義詞。為此，機構、規(guī)則和物質(zhì)的基本結構往往會產(chǎn)生某種經(jīng)久不衰的聯(lián)系，從而衍生出一種不依賴領軍人物來推動發(fā)展的經(jīng)驗傳承模式。建筑形式的延續(xù)和形式背后知識文化的暫時性斷層，這兩者間的對峙正是這場難以調(diào)和的爭論的核心。

選擇性教學方法

有一些顯而易見的例子，建筑師在論證時經(jīng)常引用。對3所耳熟能詳?shù)脑盒！鴤惗亟ㄖ?lián)盟學院（AA學院）、哈佛大學設計學院和庫伯聯(lián)盟學院進行簡略對比，可能有助于緩解緊張的局面，因為每所院校的重要領導人——不論是院長還是系主任——都在各自的院校中發(fā)揮作用，同時也帶來了在辨證教學方法、文化及行政管理層面更有意義的改變。

建筑聯(lián)盟學院

1971年，曾作為建筑聯(lián)盟學院所在地的貝德福德廣場配對排屋為營造空間親密性提供了可能，其作為紳士俱樂部的特征被保留下來，而阿爾文·博雅斯基將其繼承后用作學校，是保持其獨立和小巧？還是融入帝國理工學院成為其眾多院系之一？是他面臨的重大歷史挑戰(zhàn)。博雅斯基第一次與“惡意收購”爭取獨立的斗爭是勇敢無畏的；然而，這場斗爭還是使其失去了政府補貼。這是博雅斯基作出這個有悖于英國統(tǒng)治階層以及投資人心意的決定而不得不付出的代價。出于這個原因，AA學院進行了辦學理念的重塑，這是一個使其具備財政償還能力的實用戰(zhàn)略：只有向能經(jīng)受國際競爭的一流建筑院校看齊，才能擁有財政上的話語權。3）

從建筑學角度來看，盡管這些排屋因地處倫敦中心而尊貴顯赫，而且內(nèi)飾“高雅”，但它們并不需要太多加工。AA學院空間的大部分均與貝德福德廣場排屋典型的端莊布局一致，但是不具備容納眾多人聽課和參加開幕式的空間。因此，AA學院的規(guī)劃布局也呈現(xiàn)了一些出于急切需求不得已而為之的建筑巧思。例如，大禮堂的造型無法與排屋的橫向線條相協(xié)調(diào)，因此不得不切斷大部分墻面，跨越兩排房屋的寬度，使其能夠容納更多人——而這并非其創(chuàng)意初衷。為了利用一排房屋內(nèi)的輔助空間容納更多觀眾席位，大禮堂的屏幕以45o角呈現(xiàn)在觀眾面前，形成一個L形，營造出兩個獨立空間內(nèi)的兩組觀眾關注一個焦點的效果。排屋內(nèi)其他空間也被巧妙地用來調(diào)解其現(xiàn)實的局限性，成為促進變革的催化劑。其中最突出的是位于報告廳和畫廊上方二層建筑物核心、與圖書館相鄰的吧臺。毋庸贅言，這是頗具爭議的空間，是它引發(fā)了那個時代最廣泛的爭論。不知是酒精還是吧臺的鏡子營造出了非正式的演講氛圍，在這里，學術爭論的意義沒有排屋這個能夠靈活將住宅結構轉變?yōu)榫哂袊H影響力的學院的事實重要。該空間結構和建筑實體證明，它們不需要定制形式來適應所謂的功能。

除此之外，是阿爾文·博雅斯基的領導使AA學院至今仍名聞遐邇，盡管它已更換了3任領導，但各具優(yōu)點。面對即將倒閉的緊迫威脅，博雅斯基意識到，他需要一種完全不同的財政模式和教學策略來解決其基礎設施天性小巧的問題。轉型的關鍵是吸引大量留學生來墊付學費，同時，將工作單元轉變?yōu)檫_爾文工作室，教員的收入取決于學生助學金的普及。雖然博雅斯基在學校決定上說一不二，但他也巧妙地利用工作單元的形式來鼓勵下一代年輕建筑師發(fā)表見解。

博雅斯基還給這所學校帶來一種意識，為了讓一個聲音存在，就必須讓人們聽到這個聲音。而要在排屋里做到這一點的唯一方法，就是通過媒體獲得超越時代的影響力和超越國界的事件來放大信息。通過AA學院刊物的加倍努力，旋轉演講廳和旋轉展示空間具有了不同的影響力，其權威性甚至超越了教學區(qū)域，起到了指導其他院系（不僅僅是學生）的作用。博雅斯基本人并不具有建筑實踐經(jīng)驗，正因如此，他不需要通過自己的設計來說話，他的實踐就是管理。在他作出的決策中，出現(xiàn)了辯論、爭執(zhí)和討論，而這些最終產(chǎn)生了使之聞名的實踐：假如沒有博雅斯基的信任和授權，庫哈斯、屈米和哈迪德會何去何從？博雅斯基1990年就去世了，隨之而逝的是一個時代，一個在具有特殊意義的歷史建筑的背景下斡旋領導挑戰(zhàn)的時代；可以說，其適應性再利用，是基于前文的寬泛契合而形成的，即使有排屋的擴建、專業(yè)工作室的引進、以及信息在數(shù)字化時代的轉變，時至今日，這所學校在某種程度上仍秉持這種性格。

哈佛大學設計學院（GSD）

哈佛大學設計學院的岡德樓是由約翰·安德魯斯設計的，完成于1971年，同一年，博雅斯基出任AA學院院長。雖然新建教學樓是何塞普·路易·塞特鐘愛的項目，但由于他在1969年之前就不再擔任院長職務，所以再沒有機會主持該項目了?？梢哉f，從羅賓遜樓到岡德樓是塞特多年致力于創(chuàng)立“城市設計”學科的結果，這在當時正處于起步階段。事實上，新項目原本是想開發(fā)一座具有開放性和靈活性的建筑，讓建筑、城市設計、景觀設計和規(guī)劃可以在多年的分樓教學之后仍能在同一個屋檐下共享一個空間。因此，岡德樓可以說是塞特教學理念的表現(xiàn)，也是最早表現(xiàn)出跨學科交流的空間設計之一。4）

該建筑的金字塔結構在其形態(tài)清晰度上是確定無疑的；其階梯式配置與一系列歷史前因有關，但作為工作和協(xié)作的空間卻是前所未有的?！巴斜P”位于一座由大跨度桁架所覆蓋的紀念廳之上，起到工作室平臺的作用，幾段樓梯穿插其間，將大平臺分解成若干區(qū)域，并產(chǎn)生了保障消防安全之外的流線冗余。實際上，這些樓梯提供了大量上下樓的通道，所以成為社交互動的催化劑——或偶爾在必要時隔斷成為阻化劑。該樓從底部一個最初設想為休息室的夾層開始增加梯度，高度按年級逐年上升，畢業(yè)班位于最高梯級。如果這座建筑讓人想起工業(yè)生產(chǎn)的車間，那么階梯式就營造出了將良性的設計理念向劇院空間轉化的效果；也就是說，梯級在外觀上確實營造出逐級而上的、類似劇院座位的效果，在公共空間內(nèi)部營造出集體主義精神，創(chuàng)造出作為窺探主體和客體的個人“存在”感。如果這種解釋過于空泛，那也可以明顯地被教授和學生通過無數(shù)方式內(nèi)化。雖然某些學生更喜歡梯級“下方”更獨立、更具有私密性的空間，但其他學生更喜愛開放的露天劇場。然而，主導空間的設計過程是一種公共活動，建筑話語是一個集體項目，無論是作為學生還是教師，每個人都以某種方式進行重要參與；實際上，通過類比，它已成為大型“評圖”空間之一，因為每個學校的目標和理念都從下一個管理者身上體現(xiàn)出來。它提醒我們，同一時期的AA學院是沒有專門工作室的，因此大多數(shù)學生與“工位搭檔”一起去租賃倫敦周邊的工作室，創(chuàng)造更多的巴爾干文化，在那里各種小單元作為思想、繪畫、著裝和類似行為的集合，隨后在酒吧呈現(xiàn)出來。反過來說，岡德樓的大尺度呈現(xiàn)了一切，在這里，多學科和個人都有機會彼此融合，相互學習，也可以面對面展開爭論，在更加開放的工作室空間中釋放差異。不同院校的理念擁有同一把保護傘。

Introduction

The relationship between schools of thought and the spaces of learning within which they occur –their architecture–contains a telling history, because it conjures up a theoretical predicament that lies at the heart of an architectural debate that persists over the ages: that is, how form and content come into dialogue, whether in alignment, in disjunction or a difficult fit. Do pedagogies somehow emerge from the buildings within which they are housed, and do buildings set the stage for certain pedagogies?

For those raised in the Structuralist school of thought, the linguistic analogy holds that the relationship between the signifier (form) and signified (content) is arbitrary. As such, the loose fit between the two allows for cultural differences, such that different words such as 'cat' and 'chat' could refer to the same furry creature, while the same word in two different languages, 'chat' in French and 'chat' in English, can mean completely different things. In a similar way, forms of buildings have come to represent different things over the ages, as meanings transform with the changes in historical tide. A reference to the "White House" would come to signify something completely different a year ago, based on the practices, philosophy and contributions of the administration of that time – an easy example given the radical disparity in evidence as compared to the current presidency. And yet, the White House as a piece of architecture may not have changed at all: not in its form, nor spaces or materials.

Of course, as architects, we like to think that what we design matters, and so nothing can be more disconcerting than the idea that what we do is arbitrary, imprecise, or uncontrollable given the depth of specification we bring to its discipline. Notwithstanding, it is this disjunction between theories of production and the reception of works that, in great part, drives the schism between the world of ideas and objects. When Magritte wrote "ceci n'est pas une pipe", we know it was not controversial as a proclamation alone, but in the context of the image that floated above it, it became a scandalous meme of the very predicament we constantly confront as architects.1）Of course, the linguistic analogy only goes so far, as architecture interacts with the human subject in a myriad of ways, among other things, through the senses, their cognition, and the advent of experience. As such, as architects, we like to think that what we design is not merely a reflection of the status quo, but in fact has the agency to impact and transform the world we live in, without which any attempt at giving theoretical body to what we do would be impotent.2）

What is interesting, then, is how the architecture of certain institutions becomes synonymous with a certain ethos despite the changes in administration and thinking. To this end, the underlying structures of organization, program and materiality often produce conditions that make certain associations persist over time, such that it produces an institutional memory that does not merely depend on the human protagonists that drive them. The tension that is produced between the persistence of architectural form on the one hand, and the temporal discontinuity of the intellectual cultures that are housed within these forms, on the other hand, is at the heart of this argument, and may be something that cannot be reconciled.

A Selective Pedagogical Auto-Biography

There are obvious examples to which architects commonly refer to help shape this argument. A brief comparison between three familiar schools, the Architectural Association, the Harvard Graduate School of Design and the Cooper Union may help to frame these tensions. Key protagonists within each institution – whether deans or directors– worked within the spatial construct of their respective schools to amplify their cultures, while also bringing in the critical pedagogical, cultural and administrative changes of their time.

The Architectural Association

In 1971, the paired-up row houses on Bedford Square that gave space to the Architectural Association produced the intimacy of a space that substantiated its character as a Gentleman's club, what Alvin Boyarsky inherited as the school faced a critical historical challenge: to stay independent and small, or to become subsumed under the Imperial College, becoming one of its many departments. As a first act, Boyarsky's fight for independence from 'hostile takeover' was courageous; yet, it did not save it from the loss of public subsidies, the price he had to pay for making a decision that did not sit well with the British Establishment and those who controlled its purse strings. For this reason, one might read into the re-conceptualization of the AA, a practical strategy to make it fiscally solvent: and what made it float financially needed to be aligned with an intellectual construct that could withstand the international competition of its time.3）

1 建筑聯(lián)盟學院廣場/Square of Architectural Association （攝影/Photo: 于博柔）

2 建筑聯(lián)盟學院吧臺/AA bar （圖片來源/Source: http://life.aaschool.ac.uk/?m=201408）

3 哈佛大學設計學院內(nèi)景/Interior view of Harvard Graduate School of Design（圖片版權/Courtesy: Harvard University Graduate School of Design）

From an architectural point of view, the row houses were not much to work with, notwithstanding the nobility of their address in the heart of London and the 'elegance' of their interiors. For the most part, the spaces of the AA conformed to the typological layout of the row houses of Bedford Square, dignified, but not with the kind of spaces that afforded the volume of people that gathered for its lectures and openings. As such, the programmatic arrangement of the AA also displayed its moments of architectural ingenuity, if only out of dire need. For instance, its auditorium unable to fit within the striated constraints of a row house, had to cut across the grain of the party walls to traverse the width of two row houses to enable a larger public presence – and this is not even its moment of invention. The screen of the auditorium was displayed at 45 degrees to the audience in order to take advantage of a secondary space within one of the row houses to seat more people – making for an L-configuration, and creating two audiences in separate spaces with one focal point. Other spaces within the row houses were also adopted strategically to mediate between the practical realities of their limitations with the opportunities they offered as catalysts for change. Of them all, the bar sat at the core of the buildings on the second floor, atop the lecture hall and gallery, next to the library. Needless to say, this was the space most known and talked about, as it gave rise to the debates of its time. Whether it was the alcohol, or the mirrors of the bar that gave it the ambience for the informality of discourse, intellectual friction and polemical challenges matters less here than the fact that the row house as a type could gain the kind of flexibility and resilience to transform from a residential structure to an institution of international presence. The spatial and physical organization of the structures demonstrate that they do not require the kind of customization of form to fit the so-called function.

從管理和知識的角度來看，1969-1980年是GSD的一段低潮。莫里斯·基爾布里奇是哈佛商學院的數(shù)學教授，他被頗有爭議地任命為新院長，學院獲得了一位對設計的理解極為有限的管理者?；鶢柌祭锲媸且幻?jīng)濟學家，其專長是將分析技術用于城市問題，因此減少了對形式、空間和材料等屬于建筑教育一部分的研究投入。雖然在基爾布里奇監(jiān)督下，的確將財政困境扭轉，達到了良性財政平衡，但由于缺乏知識型領導能力并且缺少與核心受眾的聯(lián)系，他失去了廣大師生的支持和信任。這一歷史事件在時間方面是具有諷刺意味的，引起爭論的建筑與將空間組織納入到更大教學計劃中的領導人不能一概而論；相反，很多師生對劇院的形式很有異議，導致了院長的最終下臺。5）

4 庫伯聯(lián)盟學院預科樓內(nèi)景改造/The Cooper Union Foundation Building interior renovation, 1971-1974（攝影/Photo: Judith Turner）

1980年，隨著杰拉爾德·麥丘被聘為院長，哈里·科布被聘為建筑系主任，該建筑終于獲得了其劇院創(chuàng)意應得的領導地位。哈里·科布發(fā)表的演講“我的立場”圍繞著他希望本校以什么為核心概述了一系列原則：建筑對城市的承諾、結構秩序與項目的一致性、嚴謹?shù)脑u估、在必要的意識形態(tài)爭論中能夠引起并而激發(fā)各種實踐的開放性，最后是具備大膽無畏的精神：去冒險、去經(jīng)歷失敗、去挑戰(zhàn)。作為一名職業(yè)建筑師，科布50多歲的時候在一個非常成功的合伙關系中建立了自己杰出設計師的聲望；漢考克大廈和達拉斯中心等建筑在他被任命為系主任的前幾年剛剛建成，發(fā)現(xiàn)了將公司委員會的任務轉變?yōu)楦呓ㄔO性投機目的的契機，將建筑技術推向新的階段，激化了普通材料的感性效應，從循規(guī)蹈矩甚至是平淡無奇中發(fā)明創(chuàng)造。不過，雖然采取了以上學術措施，但他的主張仍被視為安全妥當，而非激進。因此，他在開幕辭中公開宣布自己的原則被視為證明自己大膽無畏的舉動，學校幾乎瞬間就變成了辯論的溫床?？撇紝π缕附處煹墓芾矸绞讲皇菫榱嗽趯W院內(nèi)復制他的實踐模式，而是在學校周圍產(chǎn)生了爆炸性的混響。隨著一些新聲音以及對對立主張的完全接納，越來越顯而易見的是，它已經(jīng)能夠引發(fā)一次再次植根于建筑歷史辯論、形式困境和將思想轉化到空間可能性的對話，而不是以其他方式阻礙話語的權力集中化。值得注意的是，雖然科布的形象與博雅斯基有很大的不同，但論及引發(fā)爭論的能力，他們有同樣的直覺。 事實上，作為劇院作品的空間，GSD托盤的空間秩序將視作其人生的試航。

庫伯聯(lián)盟歐文建筑分院

與此同時在庫伯聯(lián)盟，由弗雷德里克·彼得松設計的預科樓成了約翰·海杜克登上院長寶座的平臺。作為該校校友，海杜克對該計劃并不陌生，并在1965年調(diào)入學校后，率先成為該計劃的負責人，直屬埃斯蒙德·肖院長領導，而當時美術和建筑學院仍然聯(lián)合在一起。預科樓的改造工程于1971年破土動工，同一年，題為“建筑師教育——觀點”的展覽在現(xiàn)代藝術博物館開幕。這兩個事件之間的時間一致性很重要，因為海杜克正在設計預科樓的新格局，同時也在專注于建筑學課程的教學思想。該工程花了3年時間才完成，在此期間，美術學院和建筑學院分離，為1975年海杜克成為建筑學院獨立之后的首任院長奠定了基礎。

1971年，預科樓改造工程的最初目標是生命安全，最終轉變成了海杜克表現(xiàn)——更確切地說，是宣告其教學計劃的象征。圖書館設在教學樓的底層，作為知識基礎；但不知何故，學校的精神植根于工藝文化，要求學生精通木工、鑄造、焊接等工藝。因此，位于四層的車間既是該大樓的地理中心，也是其精神核心，夾在三層建筑學院和五層藝術學院之間。換言之，該大樓的剖面圖被看作是海杜克在“制造”理念下暢想藝術與建筑以何種方式融合的直接印記。6）

當然，從彼得松那里繼承了這座教學樓，海杜克的使命無論是在結構上還是從地標保護委員會的角度來看都極具挑戰(zhàn)性。他完全在內(nèi)部操作，但也找到了為教學樓的建筑傳承作出貢獻的方法作為教學策略。該教學樓處于技術轉型的臨界點，東側建成了一系列短跨距結構，以界墻分割，而西側則建成了開放式長跨度結構，作為工作室、車間和開放空間。眾所周知，該教學樓具有滾動的結構梁，這在當時屬于創(chuàng)造性技術。在教學樓改造工程中，海杜克有效地延伸了教學樓的結構性，通過微縮九宮格（他自己的教學方法的即興運用，名為九宮格問題）將他所熱衷的柯布西耶自由規(guī)劃加以轉換，將其融入預科樓南面的大廳規(guī)劃。結果是不可思議的，因為雖然在一個層面完全規(guī)范，但規(guī)?？s小使結構理念陌生化，本質(zhì)上不再作為支撐，而是創(chuàng)造空間韻律，通過這些空間韻律舉辦學院的核心社交活動。事實上，九宮格徑直落在了評圖空間，而這些區(qū)域當時是、現(xiàn)在仍是學院舉行集體典禮的主要場所；但是它的規(guī)?？s小也有助于其他活動的實現(xiàn)，就好像把這些柱子化為空間人物參加活動一般。不用說，作為院長，我現(xiàn)在把自己的個人理解帶到了庫伯聯(lián)盟的空間。為避免歷史偏差，我嘗試解釋它的歷史，我身處某些事件曾經(jīng)發(fā)生的空間，思考這兩者之間的聯(lián)系。不過，關于海杜克就任之前和安東尼·維德勒就任之后該學院的精神，最有趣的也許是：這座建筑體現(xiàn)了一種特殊的性格和文化，也規(guī)避了融入其中的教學方法。

建筑作為舞臺布景7）

在這種意義上，通過類比，建筑可以看作是服裝：雖然我們的身體受它的限制，但并不完全由它定義。包裹身體與給身體以適當程度的自由之間的矛盾造就了我們身穿該服裝時的舉止習慣，尤以衣服太緊或太松時最為明顯。推而廣之，服裝成了布景的一部分，我們表現(xiàn)出的形象是我們想象自己穿戴好服裝的樣子。建筑也可以看作是發(fā)生在其中的某些事件、功能和程序的舞臺布景；傳統(tǒng)戲劇按反復排練的腳本演出，而更多試驗劇場，如意大利即興戲劇，則根據(jù)對梗概的理解進行即興表演，就像我們在日常生活中一樣，在自己居住的建筑環(huán)境內(nèi)、在我們經(jīng)歷的事件中扮演各自的角色。想象一下正統(tǒng)宴會上的禮儀與狂歡派對的鮮明對比；我們?nèi)绾伟缪菽切┙巧?，在很大程度上，也是由作為其背景的建筑確定的。因此，可以認為建筑是活動的舞臺布景，而這些活動是其中上演的事件的擴展、體現(xiàn)、甚至是催化劑。

5 庫伯聯(lián)盟學院外景/History photo of the Cooper Union（4.5圖片版權/Courtesy: 庫伯聯(lián)盟學院歐文建筑分院檔案館/The Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture Archive of the Cooper Union）

當然，這些學校只是學習空間如何與所處時代的理念平臺既融合又背離的3個例子。我們可以就同一問題對所有學校進行研究，也可以評估這些空間對其受眾的影響程度及其產(chǎn)生的文化譬喻。有一所學校在其短暫的使用壽命中經(jīng)歷了很多變遷，這就是南加州建筑學院。它最初坐落于圣莫尼卡連體建筑之中，然后搬到了威尼斯海灘的大工棚內(nèi)，再后來又棲身于貨站大樓中，直至今日。雖然這所學校經(jīng)歷了從卡佩到羅通迪、從德納里到莫斯和迪亞茲·阿隆索的歷史及思想巨變，但其“無墻大學”的理念絲毫未變，仍是至今依然遵循的公共遺產(chǎn)的一部分。同時，貨站與伯克利大街1800號的圣莫尼卡校園是截然不同的。沒有了建筑形式的壓力，貨站只需要一個和帝國大廈一樣長度的開放式走廊；其規(guī)模和尺寸的分隔，決定了今天的教學模式：近380m長的評圖走廊、在教學樓長度內(nèi)暢通無阻的連續(xù)通勤系統(tǒng)、以及延續(xù)了無障礙環(huán)境的理念。如此異想天開的尺度和比例有可能在建筑類型、內(nèi)部功能、類型與功能的對應程度和建筑最終無法滿足其形式、空間和組織的使用需求之間引發(fā)爭論。不論好壞，南加州建筑學院有助于說明一個道理：無論是最積極的建筑師還是最實用主義的客戶，都不能保證建筑形式與公眾認可度之間的一致性。盡管如此，作為容器，建筑物容納著我們，就像我們被建筑物包裹著一般，但同時我們也可以自由地解釋、利用甚至改建建筑物，并賦予它們新的功能，成為它們文化意義增值的一部分。南加州建筑學院正是如此：一座融合了新文化且極其狹長的建筑物，所有的時光都是從經(jīng)年歲月的積淀而來，延伸成為那些曾在伯克利大街1800號上演的行為的譬喻。

Beyond this, and behind this, it was Alvin Boyarsky's leadership that gave the AA the presence for which it is still known today, even though it has had three other leaders since –all with their own merit. Faced with the impending danger of closure, Boyarsky realized that he required a completely different financial model and pedagogical strategy to address the diminutive nature of its physical infrastructure. Key to its transformation, as a result, was the introduction of a larger international student population to cushion the need for full tuitions, and in tandem, the transformation of the Unit system into a Darwinian studio whereby the survival of faculty, in part, was based on the popularity of student sponsorship. While Boyarsky held a firm hand on the decisions of the school, he also used the Unit based system strategically to advance the voices of the incoming generation of young architects.

What Boyarsky also brought to the school was a consciousness that in order for a voice to exist, it would need to be heard, and the only way to do that from a row house, was to amplify its message through media and events that could gain permanence beyond his epoch and a distance beyond the country's borders. The churning lecture hall and the revolving exhibition space were given a different presence through the added efforts of the AA publications, which in that time exceeded the authority of a place of instruction; it served to instruct other faculties, not just students. Boyarsky himself not having an architectural practice as such, also understood that he did not need his own designs through which to speak, for his own practice was a curatorial one. In the choices, juxtapositions and overlays he made, emerged a debate, friction and discourse that created the practices for which he is known: where would Koolhaas, Tschumi and Hadid have gone were it not for their moment of trust and empowerment under Boyarsky? Alas, Boyarsky died in 1990, and so too with it, an era that negotiated the challenges of leadership in the context of an architectural setting that was quite particular as a historic building; its adaptive re-use, as it were, was informed by the loosest of fits, and yet the character of the school persists even today to some degree, even with the expansion of row houses, the introduction of dedicated studio spaces and the transformation of the intellectual project in the era of digitization.

The Harvard Graduate School of Design

Designed by John Andrews, Gund Hall at the Harvard Graduate School of Design was completed in 1971, the same year that Boyarksy stepped in as the director of the AA. Although the idea of a new building was the pet project of Josep Lluís Sert, he would never get to preside over it because he had stepped down from the Deanship by 1969. The move from Robinson Hall to Gund Hall was arguably the result of years of work Sert had dedicated in giving birth to the discipline of 'urban design', which at that time, was in its beginnings. Indeed, the idea of the new project was to develop an open and flexible building where Architecture, Urban Design, Landscape Architecture and Planning could share a space under one roof after a period of years of autonomy in different buildings. As such, Gund Hall could be said to be the manifestation of Sert's pedagogical vision, and one of the first to demonstrate a space for inter-disciplinarity.4）

The pyramidal organization of the building is unmistakable in its morphological clarity; its stepped configuration is linked to a range of historical antecedents, and yet completely unprecedented as a space for work and collaboration. Located on a single monumental hall capped by deep trusses, the "trays", as they are called, serve as studio platforms that are punctuated by a series of staircases that break up the vast terraces into sectors, and produce a redundancy of circulation that cannot merely be attributed to fire safety. Indeed, these stairs become the agent of social interaction – or avoidance as it turns out to be on occasion – as they offer a multitude of promenades up and down the building. The terracing of the building is launched by a mezzanine at the bottom that was originally conceived as a lounge, and with each level the students ascend annually, with the thesis year crowning the upper most level. If the aesthetic of the building recalls factory spaces of industrial production, the terracing produces an effect that transforms a benign idea about production into the space of theater; that is, the terraces literally serve as theater seating looking from one level to another, creating within the collective spirit of the civic space, a sense of individual 'presence' as both subject and object of voyeurism. If this interpretation seems overly panoptic, it is also obviously internalized in a myriad of ways by both professors and students alike. While certain students prefer a more contained and protected set of spaces 'under' the terraces, others opt for the open theater of exposure. However, what dominates the space is the sense that the design process is a public activity, that architectural discourse is a collective project, and that somehow, whether as students or faculty, everyone is subject to critical engagement; in effect, by analogy it becomes one large critic space, as the agendas and predispositions of each school of thought becomes exposed to the next. It is maybe poignant to remind us that the AA of the same period had no dedicated studios, and thus most students developed personal alliances with "unit mates" to lease out studio spaces around London, creating more of a balkanized culture, where the various units served as cliques for thinking, drawing, dressing and behavior alike –things that subsequently would be exposed in the space of the bar. Conversely, the large scale of Gund Hall exposed everything in one instance, and here as much as disciplines and individual personas had the opportunity to merge and learn from each other, they also gained the proximity and immediacy of friction, where differences played themselves out in a more public stage of the studio space. It allowed for many schools of thought under one umbrella.

From an administrative and intellectual perspective, the GSD succumbed to a radical detour from 1969 to 1980. With the controversial appointment of Maurice Kilbridge, a Mathematics professor from Harvard's Business School with a doctorate in Mathematics, as its new Dean, the new building gained a steward whose insight into the debates of design were limited; Kilbridge was an economist whose expertise was in applying analytical techniques to urban issues, and thus less invested in the formal, spatial and material research that is part and parcel of architectural education. While Kilbridge did oversee the program's financial woes back to a healthy fiscal balance, his lack of intellectual leadership and connection to his core audience lost him his support and trust from both students and faculty. The temporal aspects of this turn of historical events are ironic, as the launching of a polemical building could not be matched with a leader who could absorb its spatial organization as part of a larger pedagogical plan; instead, the very students and faculty appropriated its very order for the theater of dissent, resulting in the dean's ultimate demise.5）

NADAAA三和弦

正是在這種背景下，我們開始在佐治亞理工學院、墨爾本設計學院和多倫多的丹尼爾斯學院設計辛曼大廈。這3所學院在其歷史使命方面的迥異程度可以說無以復加，因此，這種項目類型中，專業(yè)知識轉化成為最佳建筑形式的可能性都受到限制。出于這個原因，這3個項目恰巧都有一個共同的規(guī)劃，只是各自的辦學理念大不相同。我們最重要的任務是對每個項目進行分析，我們應該更好地理解每個受眾的文化和潛力。2008年經(jīng)濟危機對這3個項目造成的損失是致命的。換句話說，辯證地看待問題是它們共有的精神氣質(zhì)，是評估必不可少的因素，建筑師要確保建筑理念的方方面面都以某種方式通過公眾及使用者的力量表達出來。

佐治亞理工學院辛曼樓

辛曼樓坐落在佐治亞理工學院校園的中心，與主圖書館毗鄰。在委托項目時，曾打算把建筑學院擴建成四號樓，用于教授碩士和博士課程。與此同時，因為大學內(nèi)開車人的數(shù)量眾多，于是優(yōu)先考慮車輛，校園的整個中心區(qū)域被停車場占用。隨著辛曼樓的適應性再利用，出現(xiàn)了將該區(qū)域改造成四分式校園的倡議：更好的溝通創(chuàng)造一個為行人、自行車、休閑和有助于院校之間溝通的公共空間。

辛曼樓由保羅·赫弗南始建于1930年，用于工程研究，正面標有大寫的“RESEARCH（研究）”標志。用作試驗和研究空間的高架空間是它最顯著的特點。在項目委托的早期階段，空間規(guī)劃的壓力讓管理層把高架設置為三層工作室空間，但是在經(jīng)濟危機之后，建筑師對規(guī)劃進行了修改以便更有針對性地服務學生，并讓高架回歸其最佳、也是最靈活的用途——用于研究生課程。為此，該項目把封閉了幾十年的高架空間向主入口開放，使公眾可以進入，并自由參觀。第二，作為一個開放式大廳，它的室內(nèi)公共場所是很知名的，其極具靈活性的優(yōu)勢成為各種不同活動的平臺。同樣重要的是，該空間也可以作為連接住校區(qū)后方進行大型露天“活動坪”的界限。因此需要這種保持地面層開放性的方法，使地面層不受結構、靜態(tài)功能和固定設施的支配。為此，我們以淺顯的方式來講解該建筑在重塑和再利用方面的建筑特征：實際上，我們把屋頂重新作為基礎設施，并把所有新的功能設施從屋頂懸掛下來，使它們不接觸地面。我們用卷簾門來懸掛一個工作室，通過一個參數(shù)化結構連接二層和三層。我們在南翼懸掛了一個現(xiàn)代的螺旋樓梯，調(diào)整了該建筑中出入不便的部分。我們懸掛了一系列隔斷墻，將高架空間與側面的走廊、評圖空間和創(chuàng)新實驗室等服務空間相連。最后，我們把照明裝置懸掛在可調(diào)節(jié)杠桿上，以便在需要進行高空大型活動時將其調(diào)高。由于不接觸地面，這些設施可以在不同操控下轉動，空間可以轉化為各種功能。

有趣的是，碩士課程正在學科評估中發(fā)展壯大。然而，令人沮喪的是，當時德高望重的院長托馬斯·加洛韋于2007年去世，將該項目的行政領導權交到了道格·阿倫教授手中，后者將全部精力傾注于學院規(guī)劃之中，在設計過程進行到一半時逝世。繼任院長是艾倫·鮑爾弗，廣受支持，該項目的建筑事務所憑借該建筑的特點獲得了推動碩士課程發(fā)展的可能；這是通過設計本身定義其使命和文化的機會。因此，以高架為中心的研究空間成為博士和碩士小組的基地，他們在參數(shù)化、建筑技術和可持續(xù)發(fā)展方面的工作可以以更加科學的方式與設計師進行互動。懸掛結構、水平通透性和空間的可訪問性在研究和設計之間營造了一種無縫連接（字面意義上的）。當空間的純粹及其能夠以多種方式被解讀的可能性成為定義學院的教學方法、事件、關系和文化的催化劑，是辛曼高架空間使其中一些獨特的時刻成為可能。自從幾年前開放以來，它已經(jīng)有機會成為工作室、研討會、電影放映、演出活動、學術舞會、大型裝置甚至是畢業(yè)慶典的主要空間，其中許多使用方式是無法預料或進行嚴謹計劃的。

鑒于該項目在很大程度上屬于適應性重新利用，我們的大部分工作是將功能特征進行歸類，以尊重該建筑的歷史屬性。這需要高度嚴謹和敏銳的歷史保護政策作為支撐。該建筑系統(tǒng)由混凝土、磚、鋼和木材混合而成的，是獨一無二的、其當初所處時代的試驗性典范；因此，我們的改造減少了材料顏色，戰(zhàn)略性地沿用現(xiàn)有材料，以承擔新的功能、適應性和用途?，F(xiàn)有建筑的構造與新的干預措施相結合，如果從眾多領域上的實踐來看，每一種理念都會對保護、改造和干預——探索本項目所需要的透鏡——的性質(zhì)產(chǎn)生重大影響。在闡述和曝光各種構造細節(jié)的過程中，本項目已經(jīng)成為一種樣例（歷史和現(xiàn)代的），試圖呈現(xiàn)各個領域的各項重要探索，而后續(xù)各種語匯的調(diào)和則是未來學科教學項目的一部分。

墨爾本大學設計學院

6 佐治亞理工學院辛曼樓/Hinman Building, Georgia Tech（攝影/Photo: Jonathan Hillyer）

基于國際競爭趨勢，墨爾本設計學院應運而生，其建院宗旨在于創(chuàng)建“未來設計工作室”，以打破零專業(yè)工作室的局面，創(chuàng)建跨學科研究，以滿足“新的學術環(huán)境”需求，創(chuàng)建“有生命的建筑”，以將可持續(xù)理念融入環(huán)境管理，并創(chuàng)建“教學樓”實現(xiàn)創(chuàng)新型學習模式并發(fā)揮教學啟蒙作用。設計學院院長湯姆·凱文準確定義了該建筑的使命，并付諸努力開設各種課程——互相學習，互幫互助，融合工作室及研究文化。該建筑位于墨爾本大學主廣場“康克瑞特草坪”旁，為該校主教學樓。因此，除設計課程外，該建筑還用于其他學院學科研究，包括開展研究活動，學術活動、展覽和實驗項目，與其他研究領域共享教學設施。

In 1980, with the hiring of Gerald McCue as Dean and Harry Cobb as Head of Architecture, the building would finally gain a leadership that was deserving of its theatrical motivations. Harry Cobb's launching speech, "Where I Stand" outlined a series of principles around which he would want the school to revolve: architecture's commitment to the city, the coherence of a structural order to the program, the critical evaluation of rigor, a new openness that could draw in the necessary ideological friction to motivate varied forms of practices, and finally the presence of audacity: to risk, to fail, to challenge. As a practicing architect, then in his mid-fifties, Cobb had already established himself as a reputable designer within a very successful partnership; buildings such as the Hancock Tower and One Dallas Centre both built just years before his appointment, found ways in which to transform the mandates of corporate commissions towards more architecturally speculative ends, pushing building technologies to new ends, radicalizing the perceptual effects of commonplace materials and teasing out invention out of the normative, even the banal. Still, by any measure of the academy, he would be seen as a safe and sound voice, not necessarily the one to take risks. For this reason, his ability to deliver the very tenets of his opening speech would be taken as a testament to his own audacity to transform the school to a hotbed of debates, almost instantly. Not aiming to replicate the model of his practice within the academy, Cobb's curatorial selections for newly invited faculty produced explosive reverberations around the school. With some embracing the new voices and others in complete resistance, what became clear was that he had been able to convene a conversation that was once again rooted in the debates of architectural history, the predicaments of form, and the speculative possibilities of translating ideas into spaces, rather than the centralization of power that might otherwise suffocate discourse. Notably, while Cobb's profile varied significantly from Boyarksy, when it came to the ability to convene a debate, they shared the same intuitions. Indeed, the spatial order of the GSD trays would be taken for the test ride of their life, as a space of theatrical productions.

The Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture of the Cooper Union

Meanwhile at the Cooper Union, the Foundation Building designed by Fredrick A. Peterson, served as the platform for John Q. Hejduk as its Dean. As an alumnus of the school, Hejduk was no stranger to the program, and after joining the school in 1965, he first became its Head under Dean Esmond Shaw, while the School of Art and Architecture were still conjoined. The renovation of the Foundation building broke ground in 1971, the same year of the exhibition titled "Education of an Architect: A Point of View" was opened at the Museum of Modern Art. The temporal alignment between these two events is important, because as Hejduk is designing the new layout of the Foundation Building, he is concurrently focused on the pedagogical thinking behind its program in Architecture. The construction took three years to complete, and in that interim period, the School of Art and Architecture broke off into their own divisions, establishing the position for Hejduk to become the first Dean of the School of Architecture as an independent entity in 1975.

Originally conceived as a project for life-safety purposes in 1971, the renovation of the Foundation Building transformed to become Hejduk's manifestation – indeed a manifesto – of his pedagogical plan. The Library was set at the building's base, as a foundation of knowledge; yet somehow, the ethos of the school was rooted in the culture of craft, and the pedagogy required students to familiarize themselves with the tools of wood-working, casting, welding, among other things. For this reason, the workshop served as both the geographic and spiritual core of the building, on the fourth floor, sandwiched between the School of Architecture on the third floor and the School of Art on the fifth. In other words, the sectional diagram of the building was seen as a direct imprint of the ways in which Hejduk imagined the confluence of Art and Architecture in the context of "making".6）

Of course, having inherited the building from Peterson, Hejduk's mission was a challenging one, both structurally and from the perspective of Landmarks Preservation Commission. He operated on the interior exclusively, but also found ways in which to contribute to the structural legacy of the building, as a didactic strategy. The original building was constructed at a critical threshold in technological transformations, and thus, the east side is built in a series of short spans with party walls while the west side is built as a longspan structure with an open plan, which was to serve for studios, workshops and open spaces; the building is known for having rolled structural beams, which for its time, was an inventive piece of technology. In renovating the building, Hejduk effectively extends the structural narrative of the building by translating his obsession with the Corbusian free plan by miniaturizing a nine-column grid –a riff on his own pedagogical exercise called the nine-square grid problem– to fit into the plan of the lobby on the south portion of the Foundation Building. The result is uncanny, because while completely normative at one level, its reduced scale de-familiarizes the idea of structure altogether, no longer there to serve as support per se, but to create spatial cadence through which the core social activities of the schools could occur. Indeed, the nine-square grid falls directly in the critique spaces that were, and remain, the main collective ritual of the schools; but its diminutive scale also helps to entangle the very activities it seeks to enable, as if to make the columns into figures in the spaces, participants in the activities. Needless to say, as Dean, I now bring a personal reading to the spaces of Cooper Union that escapes historical distance. I interpret its history and I inhabit the spaces within which certain events occurred, thinking about the relationship between the two. Still, maybe what is most interesting about the ethos of the school predates Hejduk and survives Anthony Vidler: the building embodies a certain character and culture that also escape the very pedagogies that are cast within it.

Architecture as Mise en Scène7）

In this sense, by analogy, architecture can be seen as clothing: while it constrains our body, our bodies are not exclusively defined by it. That tension between capturing the body and yet giving it just the right level of freedom produces the behaviors we practice in the very clothing we wear, most apparent to us when they are too tight or too loose. By extension, clothing becomes part of a mise en scène, as we play out the characters we imagine ourselves to be within the costumes we inhabit. Architecture, too, can be seen as a mise en scène for the very events, functions and programs that occur within it; and while traditional plays are scripted with over-determination, other more experimental theaters, such as the Commedia dell'arte, adopted improvisation as the basis for the interpretation of a sketch, much as we do in life as we play out our various roles in the context of the buildings we inhabit and the events we undergo. Consider the decorum that is expected in a black-tie party in contrast to a rave; how we play out those roles, in great part, is also defined by the architecture that is its backdrop. Thus, one can think of architecture as the mise en scène for the activities that are an extension, reflection, or even a catalyst for the events that play out within them.

Naturally, these schools are but three examples of how the spaces of learning have been simultaneously aligned with and in a state of disjunction with the conceptual platforms of their time. We could inspect all schools in terms of the same question, and we could evaluate the degree of impact these spaces have had on their audiences and what cultural tropes they produce. One school that has been through a lot of change in its short lifespan is Sci-Arc, first located in the medley of conjoined buildings in Santa Monica, then in a large industrial shed in Venice Beach, and subsequently in the long Freight Depot Building it inhabits today. While the school has undergone significant historical and intellectual transformations from Kappe to Rotondi, and from Denari to Moss and Diaz Alonso, the concept of the "college without walls" remains intact, and part of a shared legacy that is still practiced today. At the same time, nothing can be more different from the Santa Monica campus on 1800 Berkeley Street in comparison to the Freight Depot. Without the burden of exhaustive narrative, the Freight Depot simply requires an open promenade the length of the Empire State Building; the sheer extremity of its proportions, and dimensions, radicalizes how the institution operates today, with a crit wall that is virtually 380 meters long, a commuter system of skateboards that expedite the trek over the length of the building, all while maintaining the idea of a barrier free environment. It is not uncommon that such a conceit of dimension and proportion might prompt a discussion between building typology, the functions that inhabit it, their degree of correspondence and the ultimate inability for architecture to make a claim of inevitability to its forms, spaces and organizations. Sci-Arc, for better or worse, helps articulate that neither the most optimistic of architects nor the most positivist of clients can ensure the alignment between architectural form and human reception. Still, as vessels, buildings contain us, and as much as we are entrapped by them, we are also free to interpret them, use them, abuse them and give them new functionalities that become part of their accrued cultural significance. Sci-Arc is just that: a curiously long building that forces certain new cultures within it, while all the time extending certain inherited behavioral tropes from years long gone at 1800 Berkeley Street.

然而，前期分析研究及價格預算暴露了一個悲慘現(xiàn)實：新建筑功能之一是創(chuàng)建專業(yè)工作室，但所撥付的經(jīng)費無法滿足這一需求。同樣，在該建筑主體工程基礎上，基于總預算設置工作室，拓寬擬建的中庭走廊，擺放家具并在墻壁布置裝飾品，擺放模型制作桌、小組桌、繪圖桌，并建造會議室。家具由FF&E（家具、固定資產(chǎn)及設備）來承擔拋光的工作。因此，中庭建筑未設計欄桿，而是增加建筑懸臂部分，并使用不銹鋼網(wǎng)將家具“拆封”成塊，打造天然但多孔的安全屏障。中庭內(nèi)為工作室空間，靈活設置辦公桌學習點，每個點位可隨時滿足50%的學生在此學習工作。

在設計過程中我們發(fā)現(xiàn)，從類型學角度看，新的建筑與原址建筑實際功能相同。然而，基于此，我們對原有建筑的缺陷進行系統(tǒng)分析，解決相應缺陷并采納其優(yōu)點。原有建筑與周邊環(huán)境隔絕，而擬建建筑通過其孔洞并延伸至學校之間的散步長廊與周邊環(huán)境緊密連接。原有建筑中庭由堅固的墻壁包圍，幾乎沒有出入口；所擬建筑中庭則采取多孔建筑模式。原有建筑走廊空間寬敞，但相對封閉，與教室或中庭均無連接；擬建建筑戰(zhàn)略性采用可移動墻壁及壁爐，以創(chuàng)建靈活交流空間。原有建筑一樓公共空間隱秘，而擬建建筑則開放圖書館、禮堂、加工實驗室和展覽室，同時將中庭樓層提升至“主要層”，創(chuàng)建更為開放的空間。新建建筑體現(xiàn)一系列變化，而在各方案中，我們找到了解決原有建筑缺陷的方案，將其文化、記憶及儀式感融入新的設施，彌補原有建筑的不足。因此，這一過程形成了一種自我意識，我們甚至思考是否可以將原有建筑建成我們所翻新的結構，但遺憾的是，建筑過舊，結構不穩(wěn)定且翻新造價過于昂貴。

MSD項目也開發(fā)了一系列建筑模塊——構造、方案、空間及細部——構成“教學樓”。本文中，我們將佐治亞理工學院融入新的環(huán)境，但基于不同目的中庭部分，我們開創(chuàng)了結構體系，創(chuàng)建雙向檔板，跨度約22m。通過LVL（単板層積材）焊接，擋板彎曲可阻擋太陽光直射入內(nèi)部空間，并確保工作時間光照充足。更重要的是，屋頂?shù)纳疃瓤纱_保工作室結構沿擋板延伸。作為教學設施，為了將“分層級”的構造模式轉變成為隨主體下降的結構體系，屋頂結構及懸浮工作室之間的構造差異是很大的挑戰(zhàn)。因此，采用尺度和容量巨大的頂部來滿足需求。木結構逐漸壓縮形成肌理，且隨進一步下降在其上懸掛薄的膠合板貼面。懸掛結構底端安裝了薄格柵板，形成了開放的聲學環(huán)境，并與這種形式內(nèi)部的技術裝置相協(xié)調(diào)。教學樓中的這種構造體現(xiàn)了帕拉齊疊加層的經(jīng)典分層順序，但為了更好的感官體驗，將多變的功能置于底層。作為一個重大的懸浮裝置，它直接體現(xiàn)了內(nèi)部負荷的實際變化，此處論證以作啟示。

MSD人數(shù)眾多；該項目是其內(nèi)在多元文化的景觀文化交叉，從建筑到城市化，從規(guī)劃到環(huán)境學，等等。是什么讓凱文院長的4個理念得以行之有致的精心體現(xiàn)出來是這個新構造的發(fā)明——懸浮工作室——通過將良好的愿景進行適宜的層級化分帶來了一個喘息的機會。懸浮工作室是一個奇跡，令人敬畏，但卻并沒就其初衷作出解答：教學方式應該被具體化或量化在哪個階段呢？當這種嘗試不足以解釋空間形體和現(xiàn)象行為在邏輯層次上的倒置時又會怎么樣呢？

多倫多大學丹尼爾斯建筑景觀設計學院

多倫多大學的丹尼爾斯樓位于士巴丹拿新月街中心，這是一個獨特的、具有靈活且知名城市網(wǎng)格的公共空間。隨著1875年老諾克斯學院的建立，坐落于南部邊緣，過去幾十年間，該區(qū)域進行了多次規(guī)劃：神學院、軍隊醫(yī)院、博物館及用于研究胰島素的實驗室。因此，該建筑順應了歷史及時代潮流的變遷。其六邊形空間被用作教室、辦公室、會議室空間，并滿足了聲學及視覺相互分離的需求。同時，采用了開放的空間規(guī)劃以確保該學院具備更多工作室及設計實驗室。北部的擴建卓有成效：沿士巴丹拿新月街北部設置立面，提供更多靈活空間，將士巴丹拿新月街城市化，并使其東西部便捷地通往學校及哈伯德村。

學院下設建筑、景觀建筑及城市設計3個專業(yè)，本文將基于這三點解讀設計，拉近士巴丹拿新月街與多倫多市的距離。參考NADAAA的其他設計項目，設計過程中詳細分析了前述3個領域的融合，并將其研究融入建筑構造之中。基于研究內(nèi)容，GRIT實驗室（綠色屋頂創(chuàng)新測試實驗室），“裝配實驗室”及“全球城市研究所”在賦予建筑更多教學空間方面發(fā)揮了重要作用；更為重要的是，各元素有助于拉近城市和景觀的距離，有助于形成建筑擴建的戰(zhàn)略舉措。因此，可將該建筑視為建筑體系的普適理念及景觀理念得轉變兩者之間完美融合。

該建筑的概念圖則可詮釋為一個簡易的盒子，以最緊湊的空間將諾克斯學院的流線進行延伸。在這個盒子中，各層樓板彎曲產(chǎn)生形變以連接不同的學科是通用的處理方式。從街道層面看，廣場東部開放成為走廊，從而擬建全球城市研究所，西部則建立哈伯德村；這兩個學科由步行街連接，構成公共交通體系，由該建筑通往羅素大街。建筑北部則將裝配實驗室延伸至外部庭院，使搭建大型模型成為可能；北部則通過調(diào)整景觀尺度，加強與士巴丹拿北街的對稱性，從而使東西部相互連通。第二三層樓板則由垂直步行走廊連接，將頂層工作室與內(nèi)部道路相連接；這是建筑中最為重要的部分，它將二層的本科生部與走廊相連接，同時將自然光照充足的三層與走廊進行無縫連接。因此，建筑頂層的景觀將結構、日照及水循環(huán)系統(tǒng)在外立面進行調(diào)合，這也是該建筑最重要的空間實體及其標志性的特色，這一構造將各學科相互融合，構成了其統(tǒng)一的整體——教學空間。

結論

7 墨爾本大學設計學院/Melbourne School of Design,Melbourne University（攝影/Photo: John Horner）

本文討論的核心內(nèi)容，基于兩種建筑學觀點的不可調(diào)和性，通過教學方法理念的完善來實現(xiàn)。一方面，這是羅蘭·巴奇環(huán)境調(diào)度理念，其中建筑設施在行為、敘述及方案構造中發(fā)揮更具指導性且確定的作用。另一方面，相反觀點認為建筑設施提供的只是一種氣氛，如同電影中的配樂，旨在表達隱密且令人難以覺察的理念，同時也將整個情節(jié)融入其所設定的劇情。對于后者而言，音樂的出現(xiàn)依舊是一種工具，且其將建筑融入背景的隱形作用是反應人物精神狀態(tài)的要素。然而，如果取消驚悚小說中的音樂，這種狀態(tài)并不能停止，某些不可復歸的元素、緊張情緒及焦慮并沒有消失。由此而言，多種形式表明建筑并非完全屬于白噪聲，而是一種催化劑：GSD的衍架構成了不為人知的“衍架比賽”的雛形， RISD休息室為各類臨時交談提供場所，AA學院吧臺為各種辯論提供場地。除了上述建筑學院中傳達出的教學理念，還有非主流文化作為砂漿，填補著建筑的孔洞，這就是建筑促進各類文化相融合的方式?！?/p>

The NADAAA Triad

It is against this backdrop that we set out to design the Hinman Building at Georgia Tech in Atlanta, the Melbourne School of Design in Melbourne and the Daniels Faculty in Toronto. The three schools cannot be more different in terms of their mission, and as such, any alleged expertise in this program type would be limited in its ability to deliver optimal results. For this reason, the projects happen to share a common program, but vastly different from their respective institutional perspectives. Our analytical task for each project was possibly the most important, if not to better understand the culture and potential of each audience, then to compensate for the fact that the economic crisis of 2008 dealt a near fatal blow to all three projects. In other words, the ethos that they all share is a sense of critical choices, to evaluate the indispensable and to ensure that all aspects of architectural ideas were somehow couched in relation to the forces of integrated alibis.

The Hinman Building, Georgia Tech

The Hinman Building is situated in the center of the Georgia Tech campus, next to the main library. At the time of the commission, it was to expand the School of Architecture into a fourth building, slated for the Masters and PHD programs. Concurrently, the entire center of campus was occupied by a parking lot, effectively giving primacy to vehicles as the driving identity for the university. In tandem with the adaptive reuse of the Hinman Building, there was an initiative to transform the space into a campus quad: a public space for pedestrians, bikes, leisure and better communication between schools.

The Hinman Building was originally built in the 1930's by Paul M. Heffernan for engineering research, marked boldly with the sign, "RESEARCH" on its front. Its most salient quality was a high-bay space that served as the space of experimentation and exploration. In the early parts of the commission, the pressures of space planning had the administration packing the highbay with three stories of studio space, but after a sober recognition of the economic crisis, the program was revised to reduce student numbers, and in turn put the high-bay to its optimal –and most flexible—use for graduate studies. To this end, the project opens up the high-bay space to the main entry, something that had been blocked for several decades, making it publicly accessible and open to view. Second, as a large open hall, it was celebrated as a potential public interior, taking advantage of its flexibility to serve as a platform for varied functions. Equally importantly, the space could serve as a threshold to connect the main quad to a back "working court", where large scale experiments could be fabricated outdoors. This required an approach that maintains the openness of the ground level, leaving it unencumbered by structures, static programs, and immobile elements. For this reason, we interpreted the building's characteristics in unorthodox ways, but in ways that could enable its reinvention, and repurposing: in effect, we re-interpreted the roof as foundation, and suspended all new interventions from the roof down, so they would not touch the ground. We re-purposed the gantry crane to suspend a studio space to link the second and third level of the building by way of a programmed structure. We suspended a new spiral stair on the south wing, to activate what had been the least accessible part of the building. We suspended a series of "guillotine" walls, to connect the high-bay space with service spaces on the side: galleries, crit spaces and fablabs. And finally, we suspended the lighting on adjustable rods such that they could be elevated for large scale experiments that require high sections. By not touching the ground, the furnishings can be rolled around in varied configurations and the space can be transformed into a variety of functions.

At the time the Master's program was in the process of expanding and re-evaluating its discipline streams. However, tragically, the much-admired Dean of the time, Thomas Galloway passed away in 2007, putting the administrative leadership of this project in the hands of Doug Allen, a senior professor whose wisdom was central to the programming of the school, who also passed away during the middle of the design process. With a very supportive Alan Balfour as the incoming Dean, the project's architectural agency gained the power to drive the potentials of their Master's program through the very attributes of the building; this was an opportunity to define its mission and culture through design itself. As such, the research spaces around the high-bay served as home bases for PHD and Masters groups, whose work in computation, building technologies and sustainability could interact with designers in a more unmediated way. The suspended structures, the horizontal transparency and accessibility of the space, created a seamless connection (literally) between research and design. The Hinman high-bay space is one of those unique moments when the sheer power of a space, and its potential to be interpreted in diverse ways, becomes a catalyst for defining pedagogies, events, relationships and the culture of the school. Since its launching some years ago, it has had the opportunity to become a space for studios, seminars, movie projections, pop-up events, the Beaux Arts Ball, large scale installations, and even graduation – many of which could not have been anticipated or planned in a strict sense.

Given that the project, in great part, was an adaptive re-use, much of our work went into the assignment of characteristic features to respect the historic attributes of the building. Much of this required careful and discerning historic preservation tactics. The building's systems, composed of a hybrid of concrete, brick, steel and wood was unique, and exemplary as an experiment of its time; as such, for our interventions, we reduced our palette of materials, strategically grafting the existing materials to take on new functions, adaptability and purpose. The tectonics of the existing building, in combination with the new interventions, if seen individually as exercises on their respective media, each take on a discursive role about the nature of preservation, renovation and intervention –the three lenses through which we needed to explore the project. In the articulation and exposure of the details of the various tectonic parts, the project has become an archive of sorts (both historic and contemporary) that attempts to present the individual material explorations on their own terms, while their subsequent syntactic reconciliation is part of the larger pedagogical project of the discipline.

Melbourne School of Design, Melbourne University

The Melbourne School of Design was the result of an international competition whose main goal was to create a 'design studio of the future' for a program that had never had dedicated studio spaces, to create a "new academic environment" rooted in inter-disciplinary work, to create "a living building" whose approach to sustainability serves as a model of environmental stewardship, and to create a "pedagogical building" such that it not only serve as an innovative space of learning, but also function as an exemplary didactic instrument. The Dean, Tom Kvan, had effectively defined the mission of the building and with it, an effort to open up the school to its various programs – to learn from each other, to collaborate, and to mix studio and research cultures. Located next to the "Concrete Lawn", the main plaza of the university, the building stood to serve as the main academic building. For this reason, the base of the building could host not only the design programs, but also reach out to other schools, drawing in their attendance for lectures, scholarship, exhibitions and laboratories, sharing its facilities with other fields of study.

Curiously, early analysis and pricing sets exposed a tragic reality: that while one of the main reasons for the new building was to create dedicated studio spaces, this was the one thing they could not afford within the allotted budget. As such, the organization of the building owes its composition, in great part, to our efforts to smuggle the studio space within the net to gross equation, effectively widening the corridors around the proposed atrium to stack furnishings as infrastructure for open pinup spaces, model-making tables, group tables, drafting desks, and seminar rooms. The budget for the furnishings was drawn from the existing FF&E (furniture, fixtures and equipment) budget, but was translated into fixed millwork scope. Thus, the architecture of the atrium eliminates the need for railings by cantilevering portions of these pieces of furniture, and using a stainless-steel mesh to 'shrinkwrap' the furnishing to the slabs, creating a natural, yet porous, safety barrier. The inner liner of the atrium became the studio space, populated by hot-desks and stations, and created the opportunity of about 50% of the student population to be working at a station at any given time.

The irony of the new building – something we discovered half way through the design – is that from a typological point of view, it was virtually identical to the very building it was meant to replace. However, understanding this, we systemically began to analyze the deficiencies of the old building, to overcome them, while also radicalizing its positive attributes. The former building had an insular relationship to its context; the proposed building urbanized its connections by making it porous on all sides, and by extending the University's main promenade to go through its base. The atrium of the old building was surrounded by solid walls, with little or no access into it; in the proposed building, the atrium would be porous. The corridors of the old building were wide purgatory spaces, neither linked well to the classes, nor to the atrium; in the proposed building, the furniture program would strategically use movable walls and inglenooks to create flexible spaces of interaction. The ground floor of the old building concealed its public programs; the proposed building would expose its library, auditoria, fabrication labs and exhibit spaces, while lifting the atrium floor to the "piano nobile" and creating a more public base. The list of systemic change goes on, but in each scenario, we developed a clear and critical approach to the liabilities of the old building, while extending its culture, memory and practices into a new facility that wore the old building as its ghost. So much so did this process become self-conscious, that we even posed the question whether the old building could become the structure from which we renovate, but alas, it was old, unstable and more expensive to renovate.

8 多倫多大學丹尼爾斯建筑景觀設計學院/Daniels Faculty of Architecture Landscape and Design, University of Toronto （圖片版權/Courtesy: NADAAA）

The MSD project also develops a series of architectural pieces – features, scenarios, rooms, and details – that rise to the occasion of the "pedagogical building." Here, we translated our lessons from Georgia Tech to a new context, but with new aims. For the atrium, we developed a structural system, whose coffering created a deep two-way slab, spanning over twenty-two meters. Fabricated from LVL (laminated veneer lumber) beams, the distortions of the coffering help to block direct sunlight into the space while ensuring ample daylighting throughout working hours. More importantly, the depth of the roof provides the structure for a suspended series of studios that extend the logic of the coffering down the face of the iconic volume. As a pedagogical device, the innate typological and tectonic differences between the roof structure and the suspended studio is challenged in lieu of a strategy that "graduates" tectonic transformations in the structural system as it descends; as such, it is massive and volumetric at the top, where it requires mass. The wooden members gradually compact to become basreliefs, and as they descend further, suspended thin plywood veneers. The end-grain on the bottom of the suspended structure produces a thin waffled ceiling that provides an open, yet acoustic environment, while coordinating the technical apparatus within its patterning. The tectonic transitions speak to the way in which the classical orders graduate in the stacking floors of palazzi, but here the inversion adopts the wonder of levity as basis for an embodied experience. As the weighty object floats overhead, its surface registers the actual transformation of loads in tension, here made evident as a didactic index.

The MSD population is a large one; the cross section of the MSD project is an index of the various cultures that it houses, from architecture to urbanism, from planning to environmental studies, and beyond. What it does effectively in the careful orchestration of Dean Kvan's four points, it also does in the invention of a new trope – the suspended studio – that offers a respite from the rationalized categorization of intentions. The suspended studio belongs to the category of wonder and awe. It does not so much answer a question as it poses one: to what degree can pedagogy be specified and calculated and how might that be up-ended by a formal spatial and phenomenal act that serves to embody what a lesson cannot.

Daniels Faculty of Architecture Landscape and Design, University of Toronto

The Daniels Building at the University of Toronto is located at the center of Spadina Crescent, one of the unique civic spaces in the city that deviates from the rigidity and anonymity of the city grid. With the Historic Knox College, built in 1875, anchoring its southern edge, the Circle has been host to numerous programs over the decades: a theological school, a military hospital, museum, and subsequently laboratories for the research of insulin. As such, the building has already demonstrated its resilience in face of historic and programmatic changes over time. Its cellular spaces make for ideal classrooms, offices, conference areas and spaces in need of acoustic and visual separation. At the same time, in order for the school to gain spaces for studios and design laboratories, it would need to expand to accommodate for open plans. The expansion to the north achieved a few objectives: giving a north facade for Spadina Crescent, offering much needed flexible spaces, urbanizing Spadina Crescent and making it accessible on the east-west axis to both the University and the Harbord Village neighborhood.

Given the faculty composition in Architecture, Landscape Architecture and Urban Design, this was also an opportunity to engage the three discipline streams to imagine a more engaged relationship between Spadina Crescent and the City of Toronto. As with NADAAA's other design school projects, part of the design process involved a detailed understanding of how the three faculty streams operated, and a way of incorporating their research into the organization of the building. In the context of the research, the GRIT lab (Green Roof Innovation Testing Laboratory), the Fabrication lab, and the Global Cities Institute all played an instrumental role in giving shape to key pedagogical spaces within the building; more importantly, each of them helped to form an important relationship with the city and landscape, helping to inform a strategy for the building at large. To this end, the building can be seen as a delicate negotiation between the most generic of building systems, on the one hand, and the translation of landscape ideas as manifest through a complex section, on the other.

The building's massing, thus, is construed as a simple box, extending the circulation of Knox College around a loop to frame the site in the most compact way possible. Within this box, each floor slab is subsequently deformed to help connect each program with its context in the most strategic manner. On street level, the Gallery opens up onto a plaza on the east side, while the proposed Global Cities Institute reaches out towards the west to create a stoa towards Harbord Village; these two programs are reinforced by a new inner pedestrian street that forms a public conduit that effectively extends Russell Street through the building. On the north side, the lower level extends the fabrication lab into an outdoor court, where large scale mock-ups can be built; the landscape in the north responds to this with volumetric adjustments that reinforce the symmetry of the site on axis with Spadina North, while accommodating the anomalies of the east and west. The second and third floor slabs are conjoined by the new vertical promenade that connects the inner street with the studio space on the top floor; this is the most important landscape within the building, as it visually connects the street with the undergraduate program on the second floor, while physically connecting the same street with the third floor in a seamless fashion, drawing in natural light to the dark core of the building. To cap this off, the roof of the building produces a landscape that merges the structural, daylighting and hydrological mandates of the building into one surface – maybe the building's most important physical, spatial and symbolic feature, since it is this one gesture that brings together the various inter-disciplinary forces to create an integrated strategy: a pedagogical moment.

Epilogue

At the heart of this discussion, there is maybe an irreconcilable relationship between two views on the agency of the formal, spatial, and material qualities of architecture as a catalyst for intellectual – and by extension pedagogical – consciousness. On the one hand, there is a Barthesian idea of mise en scène, whereby the architectural setting plays a more scripted and deterministic role in framing the actions, narratives and scenarios of a school's presence. On the other hand, there is the counterpoint that sees the architectural setting as providing no more than an atmosphere, as if the music score for a movie, which is at once meant to be stealth and inconspicuous, but also completely integrated into the very plot it sets. In the latter, the presence of music is no less instrumental, and yet its recessive role places architecture in the background, the victim of the human state of distraction. And yet, were the music score of the thriller be turned off, we would stop in our tracks, knowing that something irreducible was missing, the tension and anxiety lost. In this sense, architecture is not exactly white noise, but a catalytic agent, and its evidence comes in many forms: the trusses at the GSD that form the basis for the infamous 'truss races', the bunny lounge at RISD that served as the basis for many unplanned encounters, and the AA bar, that served the juice for the many debates for which it continues to be known. Beyond the formal pedagogies that frame the trajectories of these schools, there is the mortar of the informal cultures that are bred into the pores of its architecture –that is how architecture forms the culture of these settings.□

注釋/Notes

1）米歇爾·?？拢@不是一個煙斗/Michel Foucault, This is Not a Pipe, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 19.

2）這跟路易斯·阿爾都塞理論是一致的，即上層建筑不僅僅是經(jīng)濟基礎的反映，且文化及其意識形態(tài)狀態(tài)(建筑是其中之一)確實可以對基地產(chǎn)生革命性的影響。/This follows the Althusserian idea that the superstructure is not a mere reflection of the economic base, but that culture and its ideological state apparatuses (architecture being one of them) could indeed have a transformative impact on the base.

3）彼得·庫克在《建筑評論》的文章/Peter Cook, The Architectural Review, Alvin Boyarksy (1928-1990), September 28, 2012

4）塞特通常被譽為“城市設計”學科的創(chuàng)始人一書，根據(jù)“何塞普·路易·塞特：城市設計的建筑師”一書中關于岡德樓的描述，其他學科的擴建可以被看作是專業(yè)化理念在其他平行流的延伸/Sert is commonly credited as the disciplinary founder of "urban design", as attributed in "Josep Lluis Sert: The Architect of Urban Design", edited by Mumford and Sarkis, but in the context of Gund Hall, the expansion of the other disciplines can be seen as an extension of the idea of specialization in other parallel streams.

5）The Harvard Crimson, Anonymous , A New Dean For the GSD, March 17, 1976

6）Hejduk video, Architecture Archive, The Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture of the Cooper Union

7）這里筆者借用了羅蘭·巴特關于舞臺場景的語匯，后來被馬卡多·塞爾維蒂稱為“建筑場景”，即建筑大環(huán)境的每一個屬性都是重要的，就像劇本旁白也很重要/Here I borrow the Roland Barthes Semiotic idea of the mise en scène, later re-coined by Machado Silvetti as "mis-en-architecture", whereby every attribute of the architectural setting is seen as significant, as if a protagonist of the play and not just a backdrop.

NADAAA建筑事務所

2017-08-09