America: The Latest Architecture and News

This article was originally published on Common Edge.

If you follow housing policy in America, you may have noticed a particular term cropping up a lot recently: social housing. Maybe you’ve read a longform academic article, live in a city that is codifying a social-housing policy like Seattle or Atlanta, or seen one of the recent mentions in The New York Times, highlighting U.S. and Viennese success stories. On the design front, Dezeen is running a social-housing revival series.

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This article was originally published on Common Edge.

Christopher Payne’s fascination with factories goes back decades. As an architecture student at the University of Pennsylvania in the 1990s, Payne had the good fortune to find a summer job with an agency inside the National Park Service called the Historic American Buildings Survey. “They sent teams of architecture students, historians, and photographers to document all kinds of projects,” he says. “We documented grain elevators in Buffalo, cast iron bridges in Ohio, a power plant in Alabama, and national parks in Utah. That experience instilled a deep appreciation for industrial architecture.” After graduation, he worked for several years as an architect in New York City before transitioning full-time to photography. His previous books include New York’s Forgotten Substations: The Power Behind the Subway; Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals; North Brother Island: The Last Unknown Place in New York City; and Making Steinway: An American Workplace. Last month, Payne gave the School of Visual Art’s Ralph Caplan Memorial Lecture, and shortly afterward I reached out to him to talk about his most recent book, Made in America (Abrams), his long love affair with factories, and the photographic process.

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Sameer Makarius was born in Cairo in 1924. In 1933, he immigrated with his family to Berlin. At the age of ten, his father gifted him a camera, marking the beginning of his journey with photography. Following the outbreak of the Second World War, in 1940, they moved to Budapest, where he completed his secondary education, began his artistic training, and connected with the protagonists of the local avant-garde. In 1946, he embarked on his return to Egypt with a prior stop in Zurich. There, he organized an exhibition of Hungarian modern art with the support of Max Bill. Back in Cairo, he worked as a decorative artist for advertising and also for an architecture and construction studio.

His artistic work arrived in the Río de La Plata a few years before he did, through his partner Eva Reiner, who was already living in Argentina with her family. In 1948, she lent one of his works for the MADI art exhibition organized in the workshop of the German sculptor Martin Blaszko. After marrying Eva in Egypt in 1952, they traveled together to Paris, where they worked as pattern designers. They finally arrived in Buenos Aires in April 1953, a city that would become their permanent residence. His migratory journey was marked by the drama of war. At the same time, during these displacements, Makarius built a network of relationships around photography, visual arts, and architecture that allowed him to unfold his work in various territories and formats.

The city of Mendoza, Argentina, hosted the international event known as the "Feria de América," an industrial and continental exhibition that took place from January to April 1954. To provide a suitable setting for the exhibition, 30 hectares of land were allocated around the perimeter of Lake Parque General San Martín. Here, 93 pavilions and nearly 20 facilities were set up, including the Allegorical Tower, an open-air theater, and bars. The American countries represented with their own pavilions were Brazil, Chile, Ecuador, and Paraguay. There was also a large pavilion that housed various Latin American countries such as Colombia, Cuba, Bolivia, El Salvador, Honduras, and Mexico, along with stands for Chilean and local Mendoza-based companies and provincial pavilions for Mendoza, San Juan, Misiones, La Rioja, Eva Perón (now La Pampa), Juan Domingo Perón (now Chaco), Córdoba, Corrientes, Santa Fe, Tucumán, and Buenos Aires. Additionally, there were stands and premises for various trade chambers (Quiroga, 2012). The fair embodied the government's aspiration to showcase a thriving, prosperous Argentina that was connected to regional countries and at the forefront of industrial development.

This article was originally published on Common Edge.

As its full title somewhat implies, Nicholas Dagen Bloom’s new book, The Great American Transit Disaster: A Century of Austerity, Auto-Centric Planning, and White Flight (University of Chicago Press), tells the whole grisly story of how, in less than a century, the U.S. changed from a rail-connected nation of cities and towns to a sprawling network of increasingly congested roads. A historian and a professor of urban policy and planning at Hunter College, Bloom rejects the sort of conspiracy-driven narratives around transit’s demise and comes to an uneasy conclusion: America essentially chose the car for a variety of reasons, only one of which was automobile company collusion. I talked with Bloom about why transit in the U.S. collapsed, why it turned out differently in European cities, and the hopes for a transit renaissance.

This article was originally published on Common Edge.

The passage of the Biden Administration’s climate change package, the so-called “Inflation Reduction Act,” has predictably split along partisan lines, with Republicans characterizing the bill as an act of reckless government spending, certain to raise taxes and fuel further inflation. But does this act really represent reckless spending? The legislation authorizes $430 billion in spending, the bulk of which—more than $300 billion—is earmarked for tax credits; other spending, and initiatives aimed at stimulating the clean energy economy; and reducing carbon emissions. (The bill also allows Medicare to negotiate prices with drug companies for certain expensive drugs.) The bill is funded in part by a 15% minimum tax on large corporations and an excise tax on companies that repurchase shares of their own stock. Given the scope of the problem, and the escalating future costs of climate inaction, this legislation is an exceedingly modest, but very necessary, first step.

The Mies Crown Hall Americas Prize (MCHAP) announced the 48 outstanding projects selected by the MCHAP 2022 jury. From the body of nominated projects, the jury elected 38 entries in MCHAP as outstanding among other submissions. The fourth prize cycle considers built works completed in the Americas between January 2018 to December 2021, nominated by an anonymous network of international experts and professionals.

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Mies Crown Hall Americas Prize announced the full list of jurors for its fourth edition, chaired by Sandra Barclay of Barclay and Crousse Architecture, and just released the nominated projects comprising 200 built works in North and South America, for MCHAP 2022 and 50 projects for MCHAP.emerge 2022.

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In this week's reprint from Metropolis, author Avinash Rajagopal "takes a broad look at American Design, digging into the practice of architecture, the resurgence of craft, quintessential building forms, and decaying infrastructure". Asking questions such as "what values do we hold dear? What harm have we caused, and who benefits from the work we do?" architects and designers across the United States explore the contextual consequences of the global challenges.

As many Americans tentatively ease back into their museum- and park-going routines, numerous cultural institutions and public spaces are slowly coming back to life on a limited/adjusted basis after months of hibernation to greet them, with coronavirus precautions firmly in place. Meanwhile, large, indoor gallery-centered museums continue to plot their eventual returns. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, for example, plans to reopen in late August while the Getty Center in Los Angeles has still not announced its phased re-opening dates.

In many locales, a trickle of small but positive re-openings has taken place in recent weeks and/or are slated for mid-to-late July. With an eye toward public landscapes, open-air museums, and multifaceted art spaces with room to spread out, here’s a small sampling of places across the country that have reopened or expanded public access or are due to allow visitors in the very near future.

Architect Antoine Predock (b.1936 in Lebanon, Missouri) started his pursuit of an engineering degree at the University of New Mexico College of Engineering. A chance encounter with architecture professor Don Schlegel sparked a life-long passion in architecture. After switching to architecture school – first at the University of New Mexico and then, at the advice of Schlegel, transferring to Columbia University, Predock obtained a Bachelor of Architecture in 1962. After traveling throughout Europe on a Columbia University Traveling Fellowship with a focus on work in Spain, he began his internship in San Francisco with Gerald McCue, a future Dean at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design. In 1966, Predock went back to New Mexico, the place he considers his spiritual home, to establish what since has become a world-renowned practice. In 1985, he was awarded the Rome Prize with residency and study at the American Academy in Rome.

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American home services website Angie's List has released a series of commissioned images showcasing eight United States landmarks in cross-section. Dubbed Cutaway America, the project takes a new perspective on projects that people are used to seeing from the outside. From idealistic designs that attempt to become one with nature to complex infrastructure, these cutaways hint at a longer story of America and its history.

The end of the War of 1812 left the young United States of America awash with nationalist fervor. In the following years, the world’s first modern republic experienced unprecedented growth and prosperity; it was not without reason that the period came to be known as the “Era of Good Feelings.”[1] It was into this epoch of unbridled national pride that Thomas Jefferson, one of the country’s founding fathers and its third President, introduced his master plan for the University of Virginia: an architectural manifestation of the Enlightenment and republican ideals he had helped cultivate.

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