We are excited to be a part of DC Design Week, a city-wide celebration of all things design in DC hosted by AIGA DC. Come join us for a creative lunch at Marvin Gaye Recreation Center, where we will be talking about the design process and the importance of art in communities. Tuesday 10/23 @ 12pm. Click here or the link below for more information.
Smelling Your Floor in the Age of Online Shopping /
We are renovating a building from the late 1800s, which involves sanding and refinishing a pine floor that’s older than any person alive on Earth. Particles of wood dust in the air, set free after what could have been over a century of entrapment under layers of oil, met my nostrils. My nerves interpreted the chemical compounds and transferred the information for my brain to process, causing me to feel something.Some say that they will never forget the smell of their mother’s favorite perfume—smells can be imprinted on us with deep emotions and memories. Smells can also be pleasant or offensive—and we tend to know it right away. It varies with each smeller, though many would agree that there are certain smells that evoke a universal reaction. Every object contains a smell, whether it’s as pungent as a lemon-scented Lysol or as pleasant as the near-non-smellness of a public building. As designers, we are often limited to catalogues that smell like heavily processed paper and without any scratch-and-sniff to get a sense of the product’s smell. Often we do not even receive such catalogues. We stare down at the pixels of the computer screen wondering, “what would this look like in-person?” without even a trigger to arouse wonder about the product’s smell (as Google once convinced of the American public-at-large of its newest technology).In the age of online shopping, are we capable of desensitizing ourselves from the materials we specify for our projects?
Most of us can remember the smell of a fresh-painted room or an old log cabin, even though the color of the walls or the species of the wood are forgotten. Nonetheless we often specify architectural materials and finishes based on their aesthetic and physical properties, often ignoring its effect on our sense of smell.
Perhaps more oddly, there was a phase during architecture school when I insisted on tasting the site—the blades of the grass and the leaves of the trees. This part perhaps seems less romantic than the smell of freshly-sanded pine, since we smell our lawn and flowers more often than taste them. Maybe our chalky plaster walls and chunky terrazzo floors aren’t meant to be tasted after all. But could the perception of our buildings change based on whether our walls taste less like paint and more like Italian coffee; our floors less like bleach and more like zucchini? I’m sure our dogs could tell us the answer.Perhaps taste is stretching the boundaries of the scope of our profession as architects, but architecture does evoke all five basic senses—sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste—and additional senses such as heat and balance, which are sometimes more important to the building’s inhabitants.
I recall the smell of pine floors, freshly sanded. I remind myself that the smell is now entrapped again under layers of sealers and finishes—to which I’d like to say—smell ya later!
ISTUDIO Presentation at Design|DC 2018 /
Please join ISTUDIO’s Marisa Brown and Rick Harlan Schneider at DesignDC 2018 this Wednesday. Marisa + Rick will be speaking on the conference theme of Constructing an Equitable Future along with Sally Parker, District of Columbia Public Schools (DCPS) Sustainability Liason. “Hosted by the Washington DC AIA, this year’s DesignDC conference theme is Constructing an Equitable Future. The conference will analyze the role of architects, interior designers, engineers, contractors, planners, landscape architects, and developers in creating working, playing, and living spaces open to all regardless of ability, income-level, or age.”
“Washington DC has an equity problem: the city’s poorest neighborhoods have no ready access to healthy foods found in neighborhood grocery stores. DCPS + DC OSSE have built a robust school garden program throughout the city. The school gardens promote healthy living + stronger neighborhoods while providing access to healthy foods. ISTUDIO architects has designed inspirational places that support these programs as the new civic infrastructure. Spaces include rooftop gardens, curriculum gardens, outdoor classrooms, natural playgrounds, and teaching kitchens.
The presentation Garden Classrooms: Creating Access to a Healthier Future will take place on Wednesday, October 3 at 2:15PM in the Walter E. Washington Convention Center. See the AIA|DC website for info on registration.
ISTUDIO presentation at Cities Alive Conference /
Principal Rick Schneider, AIA, LEED AP, presents case studies in design for outdoor education at CitiesAlive 2018 in Brooklyn, NY. He is joined by co-presenters Sally Parker, DCPS Sustainability Liaison and Sam Ullery, School Gardens Coordinator with DC OSSE. “Cities around the country expect architects to design the schools of the future. Plans for 21st century schools don’t often look like the plans of the past – they are healthy, green, and resilient.
DC Public Schools and the Office of the State Superintendent of Education are creating outdoor learning environments to expand learning beyond the 'data dump' of traditional classroom instruction. School gardens and green spaces are a key component, reflecting both the school community and surrounding community. These spaces ensure all students, including those with special needs, have opportunities to learn outdoors and connect with nature.
Curriculum gardens paired with outdoor classrooms and teaching kitchens offer a unique Field to Table learning opportunity. Students grow and prepare their own food, learning about personal health and environmental stewardship. These places promote healthy living and stronger neighborhoods – the building blocks of a healthy city.
In this session Rick, Sally, + Sam talk about garden classrooms that are actively integrated into the curriculum and the part sustainable facilities play in equitable design, community resilience, and green infrastructure.”
The presentation titled Garden Classrooms: Field to Table in School, with DC-based case studies including the Tubman Garden project, will be on Wednesday the 26th.
Architects Ready to Help with Hurricane Relief /
Architects + Engineers in the Mid-Atlantic are on stand-by with the North Carolina American Institute of Architects (AIA) ready to help with Hurricane Florence Disaster Assistance. Architects can be certified to provide evaluations of facilities and buildings in the aftermath of a disaster. As a volunteer with the AIA Post-Disaster Safety Assessment Program (SAP), ISTUDIO’s Marisa Brown monitors daily updates on the current relief efforts.
When a disaster strikes, AIA and SEA (Structural Engineers Association) are resources for local authorities to utilize in the safety assessments of affected buildings and communities. Depending on the need, state authorities may request help from out of state organizations to help with the relief effort. Professionals like Marisa volunteer their time to help communities recover and rebuild as quickly as possible.
To learn more about the Safety Assessment Program, including upcoming training sessions, visit the website: https://www.aia.org/resources/9271-the-safety-assessment-program
Certified Post-Disaster Building Safety Assessment Volunteers can sign-up to assist in the effort here: http://www.aianc.org/florence-assistance-volunteers
ISTUDIO to present at Public x Design Conference /
ISTUDIO Architects has been selected to present at Public x Design, the annual conference hosted by the Gehl Institute for Public Life. This year’s conference focuses on inclusion and equity in our public spaces. ISTUDIO is working with Washington DC to build the schools of the future. These 21st Century learning environments expand beyond the traditional classroom. Principal Rick Harlan Schneider will present recent successes in design for outdoor education and discuss equitable design, community resilience, and green infrastructure. Case studies include the Tubman ES Outdoor Kitchen and Garden, Powell ES outdoor learning spaces, Marvin Gaye Recreation Center, and Twin Oaks Community Garden.
Public x Design will be held in Detroit from Monday, September 23rd to 25th.
Thieving Monkeys /
The sun was barely up as we leave the Yellow House, eyes red from the flight and sneakers tightened in anticipation; ready to explore the streets of Kathmandu. We turn left, running along the thick concrete wall holding back the leaves and flowers hungrily growing on the other side. A quick left and then a right leads us down a hill towards the Bagmati River - a contrast to the stone streets, the concrete houses, the lines of motorbikes. We find ourselves in an easy rhythm, steps falling mechanically on the pavement. Past jagged streets, the windows and doors sagging with age. Balconies and thresholds filled with the beginning of morning - dhaal baat dished on plates, spirit shrines flickering with sleepy candles, old men sitting with tea. Street sweepers look up as we pass, “Namaste”; old women bent with children look up, “Namaste”; children with toothy grins and white polos fall in step and then race past, “Namaste”. Hands to heart center, eyes connected, head slightly bowed, “Namaste”; acknowledging the spirit within. Connection on the street. Connections that happen when life is lived necessarily close - breakfast and laundry and worship all within inches of the door step. The phone map guides us, distant and factual in its direction [turn right at the next intersection]. Our reality is more supple, a wide right - avoiding the sacred cow that has chosen the middle of the street as a needed place to rest. [Turn left, then left again] Turn left past the man feeding the street dogs, observe the goat tied to the doorway, then left into an alley. Our map does not dictate whether this is a street or a series of backyards strung together, the dampness of life uncomfortably close. Continue forward as the women in the backyards seem to find no fault in us moving past their cooking fires, scuttling their chickens, intriguing their children. “Namaste”. [Continue straight] when straight appears to be an after-thought of a tunnel built in between two buildings, steps crooked and worn, the mossy walls clinging to us on either side, pushing onward and upward, pushing us to the release of the streets. We continue in this push and pull, contract and release; one step brushing past the routine of life, the next gliding past the routine of eternity: shrines and Stuppas. When privacy is a commodity, communion of the typical and the holy is shared.
Then gradually, beyond in the distance, a hill arises, golden with the rays of the morning light: Swayambhu Stuppa [Continue straight]. A gaggle of children and street dogs follow us, eager for a break from their routine. My lungs burn, my feet ache under the repetition; yet I am beckoned on - by the Monkey Temple and the colors floating through the streets. The street finally ends, buildings give way to trees and stones, masking the temple above the canopy. Maps are no longer needed. Follow the grey stone path, continue moving upward, past the monkeys; sacred or not; lounging in the shade. The monkeys sit, confident of their position, knowing that we are the temporary visitors, abiding by the rules of their temple. The steps steepen and become short, my toe angled against the worn stone, stepping lightly. Deliberately. 365 steps. 365 decisions to continue upward.But the top! The summit! Feet shuffling and prayer flags rising to blend with the wind. The white dome of the Stuppa lifts gracefully skyward. The golden tip and steady eyes glistening with the sun. Brick walls house shrines and prayer wheels, tin shanties and tarps house merchants and makers. Everything is masked with a hushed undertone, as though I am walking around with ear muffs on. Only the chimes and the heavy turning of the prayer wheels appear in full volume, marking my observation in a convoluted melody of serenity. The view beckons us to the edge. Gasp, words are useless. The fog settling in the valley is lifting, the sun’s rays growing stronger, the Himalayas steadfast in the distance. The mountains are confident in their place. Knowing, like the monkeys, that they are the rules. We are the temporary visitors. Monks shuffle past, continuing in their prayer walk. Prayer wheels are turned. Candles are lit. Monkeys scurry by, immune to the sacred. The top is a place of pause. A place away from the closeness of everyday routines. Intention. I will pause, I remind myself, accept the everyday routine and the push and pull of life. I will pause to remember the tea and open fires and the laundry hanging on the balcony. The colors that reflect on the Bagmati and the concrete walls. The dogs that do not care for an owner, but for a meal. And I will pause when I return home; for the coffee and the whistle of the breeze. For monuments and the shifting of clouds. For friend’s stories and benches in parks. For fat squirrels that prefer Sweet Green to acorns.
And thus I descend from Swayambhu. One step, one decision at a time, away from the top. Surrounded by the ephemeral bliss of a moment of pause. And then, serenity realized, peace affirmed: my assailant strikes. A water bottle is ripped from my unobserving hand, nimble fingers and a furry face look up at me. Black eyes, confident that he is now the rightful owner stares back.
The monkeys of Swayambhua are masters of finding the advantage in other’s pause.
For Whom The Monument Speaks /
The voice whispered,
“Is this the most monumental building from all these weeks,”
not at the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacán[1], nor at the Metropolitan Cathedral[2] by the Zócalo[3], nor at the obelisk (monument) of Washington. On the last day of the trip, we arrived at the Vasconcelos Library in downtown México City (DF).The length of the building was hidden from us until we discovered a plaza to the left side of the front façade. Its louvers extended across the length of the building, stacked the whole height between the columns. There were street musicians—some sitting on the circular concrete pavers, others sitting on a low concrete wall with chamfered edges—whose upright bass player was resigned to not being heard.
I am reminded of the first paragraph of a short story titled The Library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges:
The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite and perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries, with vast air shafts between, surrounded by very low railings. From any of the hexagons one can see, interminably, the upper and lower floors [...] Also through here passes a spiral stairway, which sinks abysmally and soars upwards to remote distances. In the hallway there is a mirror which faithfully duplicates all appearances. Men usually infer from this mirror that the Library is not infinite (if it were, why this illusory duplication?); I prefer to dream that its polished surfaces represent and promise the infinite ...
Inspired by this short story in one of my semesters at the WAAC (Virginia Tech Washington-Alexandria Architecture Center), I worked on a studio project for a library. The design incorporated a central stack of books with see-through floors and reflective materials—which I was quick to deem unfeasible—“makes for pretty drawings.” Such a building based on dreams and poetics could never really be built. But it was.
During my travels through México I fell head-over-heels—enamored and googly-eyed—for the grace of Barragán’s house in DF, the charm of the doors of San Miguel, and the passion of the streets of Guanajuato. However, monuments differ from other buildings at the root of our experiences. They can surprise us, choke us, and draw tears from our chests.
Books were hung from the sky and balconies were hung from the books. They soared to the highest point and extended to what seemed like infinity. I could see the entire universe but could only comprehend the book that would be in front of me. Facing each book between all these stacks, I felt the weight of human history compressing against my ego—and imagined the stories contained within and connected by each book—all the while feeling myself drawn to-and-from each section within the web of hanging pathways.A monument of books—a monument built by humans for the knowledge within the books, much like the books themselves—written by humans for the knowledge within the universe. How wonderful it is to face a monument representing knowledge.
[1] The Pyramid of the Sun, the largest building in Teotihuacan, believed to have been constructed about 200 CE, and one of the largest in Mesoamerica At its zenith, perhaps in the first half of the 1st millennium AD, Teotihuacan was the largest city in the pre-Columbian Americas, with a population estimated at 125,000 or more, making it at least the sixth largest city in the world during its epoch. [2] The Metropolitan Cathedral is the largest cathedral in the Americas, situated atop the former Aztec sacred precinct in Downtown Mexico City. [3] The Zócalo in Mexico City is 57,600 m2 (620,000 sqft), one of the largest city squares in the world.
Day 4 in the Impenetrable Forest /
We track mountain gorillas today. The call came in from the Uganda Wildlife Authority while we were at dinner on the patio watching the lights in Buhoma village go out one by one. The forest camp switches off the generator for the night and we finish making our plans for the coming day by lantern light. Trackers go out before dawn to locate the gorilla family and report back. Our group of trekkers waits under a thatched canopy while our guide give us the orientation. “Stand this far away… don’t talk loudly… and definitely do not stare – especially at the silver back.” We shoulder packs and head off into the lush green of the Impenetrable Forest National Park.We cross a bridge over a stream in the steep-sided ravine, wind our way up and over the facing ridge into higher country. Mahogany trees become more plentiful here – their roots extend into the pathway tall angled boards of resonant wood. Gorillas pound them with their hands like thumping drums to send messages across the valley. The ranger puts us on notice as we traipse through a low muddy area churned up by the feet of elephants. There’s not much you can do if you run into them on the path, hemmed in on all sides by overgrowth. The German couple moves on silent and wide-eyed at the thought.We stop to eat lunch on a fallen log in a small clearing and receive a radio call – the family is near. We move through the brush in the next stream valley only to realize suddenly we are among them. A rustle in the understory, black shapes in a green on green hillside. A juvenile climbs a tree and hangs from the branches. Barrel-chested with long, long arms and legs tucked up almost like a baby.
They pull leaves down from the tall bushes to satisfy a mostly vegetarian diet. A domestic calmness permeates the experience, belies the mythology of a fierce man-eating creature. Mother shoulders a young one. Two kids tousle in the tall grass.
We spend more than an hour visiting, then the silverback moves in a way that tells everyone it’s time to move on. A few low grunts punctuate the message. The family fades into the forest and we work our way back across the ridges to the edge of the park in the late afternoon. The valleys are already collecting shadows as we hike up the red clay road to our camp with heads full and bellies not. The place we’ll make for future visitors will nestle into one side of the ravine. The departure point for the trek will be carved into the hill, a small terraced amphitheater with the intense green wall of the forest as its backdrop. It will be a gateway to the impenetrable.
Mayor Opens DC’s First Resilient Recreation Center /
Mayor Muriel Bowser toured the new recreation center with ISTUDIO Project Architect Marisa Brown, Project Manager Dan Snook, and Principal Rick Harlan Schneider. Named for its neighborhood native son, the Marvin Gaye Recreation Center is the city’s first center with integrated natural ventilation. Fresh air, daylighting, and energy efficiency are just some of the sustainable features that make this LEED Gold facility a resilient hub in Northeast Washington DC.
On hand to celebrate the ribbon cutting were Gaye’s brother Antwaun Gay, Ward 7 Council Member Vincent Gray, DC Department of Parks + Recreations (DPR) Director Keith Anderson, and DC Department of General Services (DGS) Director Greer Gillis. The recreation center and trail serve DPR’s mission to promote health, conservation, and universal access to parks.
Many thanks to the team at DC DGS and DPR, the design-build contractor MCN Build, and the communities of Ward 7!
WJLA: Ribbon-cutting ceremony held for new D.C. recreation center named after Marvin Gaye
WTOP: New DC rec center named after local Motown legend Marvin Gaye
Tubman E.S. Courtyard featured in Architecture|DC magazine /
The renovation of the courtyard at Tubman Elementary School, located in Columbia Heights, was featured in the ArchitectureDC magazine as a part of the "Hatching New Ideas" edition of Spring 2018. This fast-paced project incorporates garden beds, a teaching kitchen, and a canopy, reminiscent of a paper airplane, for modernizing this District elementary school from the early 70s.
We are proud to take part in providing healthy learning environments for students of the District of Columbia.
Studio Salon: Sustainable Infrastructure for Our City /
“Anything you can blow up in an action movie…” says Zach Schafer to begin our studio salon. Bridges, roads, dams, and airports are the traditional way we used to think of infrastructure. We now look at the soft stuff too - our green spaces manage stormwater and our civic places that shore up communities. It’s all critical to the healthy functioning of our towns + our cities. So much of it remains in the background unnoticed until it fails, and we are surprised at the cost for the upgrade or repair. It’s tough to fund the initiatives for bringing infrastructure into the 21st century since nobody schedules a ribbon-cutting for filling potholes.We continue the thought in our discussion – civic places and green spaces are infrastructure. What happens when we combine uses for efficiency and bring infrastructure into the public frame of reference? A park is a facility for filtration + stormwater management; a recreation center provides space for wellness programs and a refuge in a flood; rooftops on every neighborhood school are nodes in a solar energy grid. The green technologies of the future become better integrated with our daily lives. "The opportunity is great," says Dr. Unique Morris-Hughes. Green infrastructure means green jobs, “like the kind we’re training for now at the new DC Infrastructure Academy.” If the traditional infrastructure is the stuff that holds our built environment together, it’s the soft stuff like jobs training that knits our communities together, making them more resilient.
Special thanks to our panelists: Tommy Wells, Director, DC Department of Energy + the Environment Dr. Unique Morris-Hughes, Director, DC Department of Employment Services Zachary Schafer, Executive Director + CEO, Infrastructure Week
Marvin Gaye Recreation Center Tour with AIA|DC /
Marisa and Rick gave a thorough and descriptive tour of the soon-to-be-open Marvin Gaye Recreation Center. Some talking points included the building's passive and active sustainable features, designing in a 100-year floodplain, and working with local community involvement.
Thanks to AIA|DC!
Grand Opening of the DC Infrastructure Academy /
Starting in March of 2018, DC residents can attend the DC Infrastructure Academy to pursue infrastructure jobs with public utility companies in the city. This program will be used as a bridge between job-searching DC residents and in-demand jobs for companies such as Pepco/Exelon and Washington Gas.
We are proud to be a part of this mayor-initiated project with the team led by Broughton Construction and look forward to following the growth and success of the DC Infrastructure Academy!
Featured Links:
DCW: DC Infrastructure Academy open for business, readies job force for in-demand jobs
DC DOES: "Stop by and say hi! DCIA Address: 2330 Pomeroy Road, SE. #DCIA"
Streets That Hug /
Around noon, the sun casts the smallest shadow from my feet onto the stone pavement. To my left, oversized trucks crowd the one-way road — to my right, walls are colored golden yellow, pale brown, and mature red. Hand-made doorknobs and dusty windows offer glimpses of life inside these houses. Where I walk, the house is separated by only the 30-centimeters of the walls. My fingertips can’t help but touch. My eyes trace the imperfect lines of these walls that border the sky.
I am embraced at each turn and slope of San Miguel streets.
Having been around the Virginian suburbs and gone to university in the Appalachians, the density of urban communities often receive a negative connotation: tall towers and their long shadows, constant traffic and noise, not enough space. Many have sought out for space by extending into more space — setbacks and front yards connected by miles of asphalt.
Compared to San Miguel, I wonder if there is a cityscape that was as unfamiliar to me. Yet — where once an old woman greeted me and once a young businessman asked me about my home — on these streets I felt a sense of belonging.
Where Did All the Blue Skies Go? /
Marvin Gaye didn’t sing “Love The One You’re With” — that would be Stephen Stills. But the line seems appropriate when we talk about biophilia and urban green field sites. While these sites are often overused, there is still much of the natural environment to love. Here is a little lyric about the site in Northeast Washington DC where Marvin Gaye grew up. There is a path in a park and a recreation center that bears Marvin’s name. The park is entered from a neighborhood street of brick rowhouses + duplexes on the north end of the site. The path moves south through a grove of majestic willow oaks. Folks play basketball beneath towering specimen trees planted in rows over a hundred years ago.
A footbridge crosses a wandering stream — a riparian zone working to regenerate itself with some help from the Army Corps of Engineers. Pass through a belt of trees that line both sides of the small ravine. Fields open up to the south — football, baseball, soccer, anything can be played here on a carpet of green.
The treeline forms a backdrop for the outfield. Here the recreation center is raised on berms above the floodplain. The path rises on a ramp to a high plaza and passes into the lobby. The building can be felt taking a breath. Fresh air is drawn in through louvers above windows and exhaled through high fans on the roof — natural ventilation.
Daylight pours in through high clerestory windows, draws visitors to the gallery on the second floor. The ramp leads to stairs; stairs lead out over the fields up into the boughs of the trees cantilevered above the stream. A point of prospect from within provides a view out over the fields. A perforated sunscreen filters light like the canopy of leaves on either side.
Step out onto the balcony and the building disappears — replaced by the sense of being in the trees beneath blue skies with the sound of water coursing through the stream bed three stories below.
Biophilia /
We are better than telephone poles disguised as trees. We don’t need plastic flowers and wallpapered bricks. We need sunlight and the change of seasons. We need the wind and the rain and seeing a fern gently arch towards the sunlight. We need gardens that go dormant in winter and plants that die in a drought, only to be rebirthed with the rainy season. We need the rough texture of slate and the sound of gurgling water easing our thoughts. We can build buildings that are perfectly plumb and streets that align to a grid.
Consistent, logical, expected. But to bring in nature, to allow the regimented design of 90 degree angles be interrupted and forced to co-exist with the constant changes of nature; that is where the secret lies. To have places that celebrate this, embrace the unregimented neighbor and, dare I say, be informed by the earthly forms and knowledge that the natural world provides, now that is a place worth inhabiting.