Architecture School: Teacher or Tool
Higgins Hall is not just the Steven Holl addition everyone wants to talk about, but instead it is the home to over 700 architecture students who inhabit it daily. Almost become invisible, despite their grandeur size, the two brown brick buildings sandwiching this new glass installation are over 75 percent of the building. Replacing a burnt down auditorium and gymnasium, Holl attempts to bridge the gap between two high functioning structures. Instead of maintaining already existing language, Holl introduces his own in attempt to bleed into the adjacent structures and the city alike. His choice of industrial material not only contrasts the previous construction, but it peacocks itself just out of popular sightlines.
This proud language that Holl introduces offers the question whether or not his addition is a successful installation into a school of architecture. Previous critics have applauded the lessons taught by the strong moments of architectural connections in the construction. While at the same time have glossed over the shortcomings of design functionality in a school of design. For a building that houses students in it every hour of the day, the lack of physical comfort and even proper power supply to a technological forward school seems unthoughtful. Whether the building should be teacher or tool is a question that is answered by the architect.
Holl repeatedly talks about a dissonance between the two preexisting structures. Physically, yes there was a chasm between, but programmatically there was no separation of thought process or activities done in the space. By creating this sort of new glass atrium with winding passageways to get from one side to another, Holl does not talk dissonance, whether it existed or not, but rather highlights it. This might be the problem of any well-known architect when approaching a work, by creating a narrative, the must identify or fabricate a problem to be resolved in their work. Holl decides that this educational building will better serve as teacher than tool, and doing so the most it teaches is the word “dissonance” to the student with not yet a refined vocabulary.
When looking at the success of a building you can look at two scales. What the building does for the city or community around it, or what it does for those who inhabit it. In this case, due to its nesting qualities set back well off the curb hiding behind the typologically fitting brown brick building on the corner of Lafayette and St James Place, Holl’s addition does not speak to the city of Brooklyn or the neighborhood of Clinton Hill. The normal processing of a student in Higgins Hall is one that of a busy ant. The students do not stay in one place, instead they scurry from floor to floor from wing to wing accessing all the resources presented to them, their “tools”. But traversing the new addition doesn’t seem highly efficient zig zagging through others classes to get work done. The tool is broken, because it calls itself a teacher. If only a hammer can teach you how to strike a nail.
This proud language that Holl introduces offers the question whether or not his addition is a successful installation into a school of architecture. Previous critics have applauded the lessons taught by the strong moments of architectural connections in the construction. While at the same time have glossed over the shortcomings of design functionality in a school of design. For a building that houses students in it every hour of the day, the lack of physical comfort and even proper power supply to a technological forward school seems unthoughtful. Whether the building should be teacher or tool is a question that is answered by the architect.
Holl repeatedly talks about a dissonance between the two preexisting structures. Physically, yes there was a chasm between, but programmatically there was no separation of thought process or activities done in the space. By creating this sort of new glass atrium with winding passageways to get from one side to another, Holl does not talk dissonance, whether it existed or not, but rather highlights it. This might be the problem of any well-known architect when approaching a work, by creating a narrative, the must identify or fabricate a problem to be resolved in their work. Holl decides that this educational building will better serve as teacher than tool, and doing so the most it teaches is the word “dissonance” to the student with not yet a refined vocabulary.
When looking at the success of a building you can look at two scales. What the building does for the city or community around it, or what it does for those who inhabit it. In this case, due to its nesting qualities set back well off the curb hiding behind the typologically fitting brown brick building on the corner of Lafayette and St James Place, Holl’s addition does not speak to the city of Brooklyn or the neighborhood of Clinton Hill. The normal processing of a student in Higgins Hall is one that of a busy ant. The students do not stay in one place, instead they scurry from floor to floor from wing to wing accessing all the resources presented to them, their “tools”. But traversing the new addition doesn’t seem highly efficient zig zagging through others classes to get work done. The tool is broken, because it calls itself a teacher. If only a hammer can teach you how to strike a nail.