The following was transcribed from a discussion between Brie Smith and coordinator Robert Levit on October 2, 2014.
This was a 'stoplight' presentation for approval—red means 'stop,' green means 'go,' yellow means 'proceed with caution.' I'm realizing even in a brief discussion, I need to more clearly place this thesis in a context.
BNS: My thesis is titled "A House for Crossed Crocodiles: An Exploration in Adaptability, Taste, and Satisfying a Shared Stomach." The denkyem is an Akan symbol from western Ghana; it's a two-headed crocodile that shares one stomach. With this thesis I will develop a housing prototype that satisfies diverse wants and needs, both in terms of feasibility and resiliency, but also the strive for modernization within a developing country and community. Traditionally what you see on the right is the most common vernacular architecture of the region. It uses local materials sourced within a 50-mile radius, and on the left is a fairly straightforward block construction house. In this community there's quite a bit of pressure to develop, and represent, and associate with modern world. In construction, this becomes a push for block construction.
The challenge is the more architecture people see elsewhere, the more they emulate and copy. So the house on the left is one of the more recent permanent constructions by a family in Woe. The house on the right is in Mesa, Arizona, an archetype fairly common in the southwest suburbs. Architecturally this style not very responsive; construction is incredibly expensive on the economy and not very feasible unless the family is very well off.
Unfortunately what tends to happen is families start and strive towards building block construction, but are forced to stop before completion. Buildings aren't roofed or protected from the elements, or corners are cut and the structures fall into disrepair. The community is full of ruins. My goal is to help make construction feasible. This is not an isolated problem in Ghana, but I'm using the village of Woe as an opportunity to focus on this work and design development.
Woe is located on a sandbar. To the north is a freshwater lagoon; to the south is the saltwater Gulf of Guinea. Woe is a predominately agricultural community. Farm land land gets divided up down the paternal line. The first time I was there was in 2003. Since then this land has almost been subdivided again, with more construction and more homes.
I'm looking to the climatic influences—what's going on with the prevailing winds, trying to develop smartly using passive strategies—to adapt and adjust design. Historical projects like Kahn’s Adler House and similar modular systems are good reference to develop strategies and schemes that are resilient and ultimately feasible moving forward. This region is culturally rich. Traditional weaving techniques provide a opportunities for texture and design. When looking at that aerial photograph, even the landscape and how the land is divided starts to take on woven characteristics. There is a mile difference from the north to the south of Woe. Here are textural samples focusing on the coastline and the water, and how the landscape starts to change with homes and development, and the strictly farming plots near the freshwater lagoon.
RL: Is that surf?
BNS: It is. There is a fairly strong current that works its way around the Gulf of Guinea.
I'd like to analyze all the construction methods used in this area, and look at their historic influence--from vernacular architecture, and the weaving tradition to masonry construction and details brought by settlers and missionaries over the years. By taking this material palette as a kit of parts I can design a system. I have a plot and I'll be designing a home for my friend Noah and his family. This it's not just single house; this can be a prototype, and a proposition for a new construction archetype for the region.
RL: I guess you need to lay out more clearly what the challenges are and what the life habits are.
BNS: The challenge is that cost of living is difficult to meet. Within this community fishing and farming are not always viable. In past years families have needed to take out loans to get through the seasons. Interest rates are so high that there are few saving opportunities, which then has further impacts. People can't afford the health care that they need. Some children aren't able to go to school because families need them to work in the fields, or to fish and help support the family.
RL: What does it mean in terms of building?
BNS: In terms of building what's happening is that families are choosing to build using permanent construction methods, which are expensive and have limited material sources. They’re investing in an ideal of modernity. They'll invest everything they have and more into block construction, and not complete the work because of cost constraints. These incomplete structures then fall into disrepair. Essentially money is wasted because the buildings are becoming ruins before they can even be occupied. And so working within the social construct of wanting to develop and include more modern construction methods, I want to develop a strategy to help make construction more feasible and attainable, both financially, economically, and architecturally.
RL: So you have to identify techniques of construction that are do-it-yourself based upon material resources that are available, either naturally or more or less free of charge, including unprocessed materials. It looks like what you're showing is unhewn timber, reeds, and these nearly un-transformed materials from nature that presumably are free, or nearly free with some sweat equity.
Describe the features used to turn them into building materials, and the building types which are possible. Then perhaps there is some tension between the limits of these materials and expectations about dwelling patterns which you need to articulate. Maybe there is some idea—since nobody lives in a pre-modern world anymore—about modernity or change conditions of life which are out of reach but nevertheless affecting people's desires. Something is changing the way that people want to live, and this then impinges upon what might be traditional modes of construction and the related building types.
I think you need to describe that a little bit more. A lot of the time these things are often... There are many experiments when actual architects come in and try to revive historical modes of building, but the buildings turn out to be very precious, and often, they're not so economical in the end anyway. So you have to show that it is. One of the things about thesis is that your arguments don't all have to be water tight, but they have to be plausible, and you have to show that they're plausible. Otherwise if you chose purely speculative thesis—you just wanted to design a dystopian city of the future for a film set, and you did a magnificent job—then you wouldn't be constrained by things that constrain you. But since several of the theses are situated within settings which are all about constraint, then those constraints have to be taken seriously.
That's what I would recommend. This topic is perfectly viable, but wash out those dimensions. Often it is this kind of architecture that wins the Aga Kahn Award. It often is the case that very innovative design using traditional methods are the very things that win these awards, and they are quite ingenious. They seem to synthesize both the available materials and means, and yet the sensibility seems contemporary. And perhaps, they use available materials means and that this is something desirable by more than the architect, by people who wish to imagine that even with their limited means they're living in a more contemporary way.
BNS: Yes, and helping facilitate that opportunity. Thank you.
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