LEGORRETA + JOY
LEGORRETA
1. How would you define Legorreta’s architectural accomplishments for the two projects Solana and Camino Real Hotel Extapa – in relationship to culture and climate?
Before I even begin to answer this question, I have to say that I have a soft spot in my heart for Mexico and its architecture. I lived and studied (architecture and Spanish) in Oaxaca, Mexico, for a semester during my undergrad, and completely fell in love with the city and the people there. This experience led me to write my senior research thesis on two wonderful contemporary local arquitectos oaxaqueños, Daniel López Salgado and Renata Elizondo, whom I had the pleasure to work with during my time abroad (they were co-instructing our studio with University of Minnesota professor Lance LaVine). I believe their ideas and work are a continuation of the theories and practices of Legorreta and his predecessors (namely Luis Barragán and Enrique Nortén). Through my interviews with the architects, research on theoretical topics (such as critical regionalism) and other Mexican architecture of the twentieth-century (especially that of Barragán), and by studying López Salgado and Elizondo’s work and filtering their concepts through the built environment, my study revealed it is entirely possible to harmoniously implement and emphasize design that is rooted in a cultural understanding of place within our rapidly globalizing world. Basically what I’m trying to say is that Legorreta is not the first Mexican architect to design the way he does, nor is he the last.
To continue with my “promotion” of Oaxaca as a fantastic place to be, Legorreta mentions (in his interview with John Mutlow) Monte Albán as a strong influence for light, mystery, spirituality, and elegance in his work. Similarly, the architects I studied (in addition to Barragán) look to the pre-Hispanic architecture of Mexico in terms of its quality of open space and the materiality of its elements. Subsequently, all of these designers look to Spanish colonial architecture in terms of the “charm in the courtyards,” the style (and color) of the small shops, and the form of the vaults and domes, which are most prevalent in the numerous Catholic cathedrals, monasteries, and convents. There is also obvious Modernist principles thrown into the mix, but I like how Legorreta says, “the vernacular transcends the rigidity that architects learn in school, in which there always has to be a reason for doing everything. In vernacular there is no reason, just pure emotion.” This statement to me is so very Mexican.
In terms of my critique of the two aforementioned projects, I have to say there are aspects of both projects that portray his ideals very clearly. The colored walls and heavy materiality reflect that of traditional Mexican architecture, but there are certainly Modernist forms within the designs. In Camino Real Hotel Extapa, it is evident that Legorreta looks to the platforms created by many ancient Mexican groups (Monte Albán is a great example) in his use of terraces built into the hillside facing the ocean. Additionally, the monumentality of this building is reminiscent of the great temples of the ancient Mexican cities. As has been previously mentioned, I do feel that Solana is less successful in portraying Legorreta’s design principles and the emotion of Mexican architecture. Perhaps he felt more reserved or cautious since he was designing within the United States, but I think the result is a large monolithic structure with some beautiful water features and landscaping surrounding it. There are many better examples of Legorreta’s views on design with other works he’s done. It would have been nice to see a few of his smaller-scale projects in the readings – in addition to these two large scale buildings.
JOY
1. Do you think his use of materials and building form are convincing?
“The land is at once a place of respect for all its vitality and a place to inhabit and experience for all it ignites in our soul. […] How can man-made elements contribute to the maintenance of and perhaps the enhancement of the richness and wildness of the place?” (Rick Joy)
Rick Joy sounds like an architect who not only has great ideas, but also a designer who can follow through with these theories by creating buildings that manifest his ideals. Therefore I absolutely think his use of materials and built form are convincing – they make me want to GO there. I feel like pictures just aren’t enough, but even based on 2D images, I can tell that his ideas about giving people a “more raw experience with the land/place” are clearly articulated. In the Vermont house, the local stone material is not only used, but celebrated on the walls that flank the gables. The solidity and thermal capabilities of this material is brought to the forefront of his design, especially since he chooses to not break the mass with any fenestration. While the Convent Avenue Studios project is obviously set in a completely different climate and culture, Joy approaches the work with the same amount of attention to detail and subtlety. He focuses on the courtyard spaces rather than having an elaborate “front lawn” space, since this is not only the traditional method of Mexican design, but also makes the most sense for the hot climate of the location. The designer needs to create thick, thermal masses to keep out the heat of the day and allow the users to enjoy the cool, inner courtyards.
2. Do you think the experiential characteristic of his projects is in any way compromised by his fundamental basics?
I believe the fundamental basics [simple forms] of Joy’s work are precisely the way in which the architect is able to achieve his experiential architecture. If the forms of his designs were overly complex, that is when I believe the experience would be compromised. By devoting his energy and total engagement to materiality, craftsmanship, and site orientation, Joy demonstrates how he believes architecture is more than “processes of intellectualization, conceptualization, and formalization.” He’s not interested in creating crazy algorithms for window fenestrations in Rhino and Grasshopper, or finding ways to annoy his structural engineers with the most sculptural forms imaginable. By getting right down to the basics and making simple forms out of sensible materials for a particular site with fine craftsmanship, the architect is searching for a way to “have quality to withstand the test of time.” That, more than any technological tool, software, or energy-saving device is truly sustainable architecture.
-R. Peterson