Aspirations and Realities
In 1923, Le Corbusier claimed in Vers une Architecture that “industry on the grand
scale must occupy itself with building and establish the elements of the house on a
mass-production basis”. Since that call to action, there have been many attempts to
design houses to support modern domestic living; structures to be assembled from
components which would be rapidly manufactured in large quantities. Notable
visions include George Frederick Keck’s 1934 Crystal House, Charles and Ray
Eames’ 1949 Case Study House 9, the cartoonesque Autorama-style dream homes
of 1950s America, and Buckminster Fuller’s Dymaxion houses—which transferred
aeroplane construction techniques to residential building. However, none of these much-publicised gestures has transformed the industry of
building houses. Across the world, the business of residential construction remains
dominated by thousands of small-to-medium businesses: it is far too fragmented to
support the sophisticated research and development which sustains the transport
and product manufacturing sectors. In the United States, for example, government authorities spend $200 million (0.1%
of the country’s annual utility bill) on building research—while the US steel and
auto industries spend 10 times as much as that on their R&D. When faced with a
serious economic threat like the oil embargo crisis of 1973, both industries have shown that they can react promptly to introduce new technologies to ease or solve
the problem. For example, from 1973 to 1987, the auto industry halved the average
fuel consumption of new American cars, while the manufacturing sector reduced by
28% the amount of energy required to produce a US dollar of gross national
product. Despite a worldwide sense of urgency about energy efficiency, there has
been little improvement in the energy consumption of the building industry during
the last 25 years.
Smart Houses? Nonsense.
It’s inevitable that demands for increased efficiency and performance require
investment in research and development. Certain industries, notably car
manufacturing, are structured to fund these pursuits. In The Machine that Changed
the World, James P. Womack and his research team from the Massachusetts
Institute of Technology detail how the vast research budgets necessary to develop
the efficiency of new cars are amortised across large production runs of many
interchangeable components to keep consumer costs competitively low.
Consider this design audit. From the first clean sheet of paper to the first customer
delivery of a new car, 1.7 million hours of research and development time is
required: the equivalent of 8000 person-years or 2000 people working for four years at 40 hours a week. At $50 per hour, the cost is $850 million. But with the
industry average production run of one million cars, that design cost is amortised to
only $850 per car. So the consumer cost for the full benefit of 1.7 million hours of
research amounts to only four percent of the average new car price of $20,000. (At
$20,000 and weighing 1700 kilos, a car costs $11.70 dollars a kilo. That’s cheaper
than steak and it comes with a three-year guarantee.) As an Australian example, a Sydney industrial design firm, called Design Resource,
redesigned the Eveready Dolphin flashlight for $80,000 in 1996. Eveready has since
sold 10.5 million Dolphin flashlights valued at $189 million. The design fee accounts
for 0.04% of the final purchase price. Here’s an architectural comparison. For a 40 storey prestige office building costing
$110 million, architectural fees are likely to amount to 2.1 percent and the full fee
schedule (including quantity surveying) would be about 5.2 percent. At $50 per
hour, that bill covers only 117,400 hours of thought or 57.2 person-years (less than
.1 percent of the time spent designing your car). As a residential example, an architect-designed, three-bedroom home costing
$400,000 would have a full service fee of about 11 percent, theoretically
representing a design input of 880 hours (at $50 per hour) or 22 weeks. In these
circumstances it’s ridiculous to talk about Smart Houses. Cloned Homes
Despite a generally low standard of technological sophistication, houses are
increasingly mass-produced. In 1996, The Economist reported that almost one in
three new single houses sold in the US was factory-built (approximately 340,000
homes). By that year, seven percent of the American population lived in nine million
factory-built homes. At factories like that of Schult Homes in Middlebury, Indiana,
workers fabricate up to 17 houses a day. The idea of using standard components to produce houses in factories emerged
with the late 19th century work-efficiency theories of Frederick Taylor, who
influenced Henry Ford’s conveyer belt system of mass-producing automobiles.
Those examples have often been quoted by modernist architects. However, any
architectural consideration of mass production inevitably raises the aesthetic
spectre of a soulless uniformity and anonymity. In 1938, Alvar Aalto observed that architecture’s relationship to location inevitably
required flexibility of design and construction. For him, mass-production had to
arise from an organically flexible system, one dependant on natural forces. His
standardisation was elastic. Now the computer’s ability to orchestrate flexible mass production lines has brought
Aalto’s vision within grasp. Dynamics and Diversity
The way to avoid fabricating numbingly
uniform houses is to set up a system of
parts with potential to create an infinite
variety of unique combinations. An
excellent traditional example of such
modular building technology is the
brick. For a contemporary system,
careful scrutiny of newly available
mechanical and electronic systems is
needed to design an integrated and
dynamic house which can answer
diverse and complex living and
environmental requirements. In future,
buildings will be seen as flexible
systems that enable change—not as
rigid containers which inhibit choice.
That idea has formed the basis for our
studio’s conception of a ‘Hyper House’
for the future. Hyper House
Over the past decade, we have been
designing a future house wrapped with
a dynamic skin of computerised glass
which could respond to the weather
and demands from occupants via an
array of sensors connected to a
network of small computers. The
building could store energy (heat) in
hollow structural columns fitted with
thermal batteries. Like a mammal, it
would be able to conserve its ‘body’
temperature by controlling the permeability of its skin. Our computer renders on these pages
show a multi-purpose pavilion
measuring 7 metres wide, 14 metres
long and 3.5 metres high. Its
rectangular (rounded corners) floor plan
morphs into an elliptical roof. Two 3.5
metre-high columns (hollow cruciform
sections of polished aluminium;
basically oversized yacht masts)
support the composite roof (recycled
plastic) and contain thermal batteries.
Suspended around the edge of the roof
are aluminium window mullions
incorporating downpipes. These frame
the glass skin, which has versatile,
adjustable, optical and thermal capabilities. At the south end of the Hyper House,
part of the glass skin performs like a
television screen. In another area, the
glazing broadcasts a computer-produced
message to the neighbours:
it’s programmed into an electrochromic
layer of the glazing. An array of small
computers (blue biscuits mounted on
the glass), operate in concert, via
infrared instructions, to control the
appearance of the glass. Sensitive Skin
The Hyper House’s dynamic skin is an
outcome of a current revolution in
electronically controllable chemical
coatings for glass—technologies which
allow subtle control of privacy, views,
lighting, temperature and the opacity of
the membrane. Glazing now may be seen as a high-performance
composite material
incorporating electronic, holographic
and mechanical ventilation systems.
Options include low-profile sandwich
sheets filled with aerogel (a highly
transparent, micro-porous material with
insulating properties), double-glazed
and gas-filled sandwich panels, active
chromogenic glazing including
electrochromic coatings (a low voltage
makes the coating opaque), thermochromic coatings (opacity
controlled by temperature), passive
chromogenic glazing such as
photochromic coatings (opacity
controlled by incident light), spectrally
selective coatings (allowing the optical
properties to vary with wavelength),
angular dependence coatings, and
holographic films (allowing the optical
properties to vary according to different
angles of incidence). These treatments are being developed
to allow the glazed facades of buildings
to act as dynamic mediators between
climate and occupants. Combinations of
the coatings, applied to different areas
of glazing, will establish an interactive
membrane which could allow
sophisticated exchanges of energy and
information. The building facade could
be both a high-tech cloak to react to the
elements and a chameleon-like, wrap-around
television screen. Structure
The house is constructed as a
discontinuous compression-tension
structure. Hollow columns take all the
compression loads. The roof structure is
a modular composite beam, with a core
of recycled plastic acting as insulation,
with the internal upper edge scalloped
to duct heated air from the roof so it
can act as a thermal solar collector. This
heat is sent to the thermal batteries in
the columns. The upper surface of the
roof is curved to shed water and
matches the cross-section required for
the beam’s span. The floor is constructed with sandwich
panels comprising an upper skin of
wood composite (the floor surface), a
light core of expanded foam and a
lower skin (to form the ceiling surface
for the floor below where required).
These stressed skin beams are
supported by channelled edge beams
spanning the columns. The floor
beams are manufactured and cut
to size in the factory. Service Pod
An external energy and service module,
powered by liquid petroleum gas,
boosts the integral heat pump and acts
as a cheap primary or back-up
|
generator for electricity. External
placement of the main heating, cooling
and power-assist unit keeps the internal floor space clear. Attachment, servicing
and upgrading is simplified. This
module could also charge the battery
for an electric car. An aerodynamic,
weatherproof body would protect the
mechanism. The equipment might be
rented in the same way as a TV or VCR. If it malfunctions, it can be replaced.
The service pod would arrive on the
back of a small truck equipped with a
jack to lift it into position. It would be
mounted on a shock-absorbing base
and located directly over self-sealing,
quick-couple, connection points similar
to those used in dialysis machines and
the LPG outlets at any service station.
These supply natural gas into the pod, electricity out of the pod and hot or
cold air to and from the thermal
storage system. An accessible, easy-to-detach, mobile
maintenance module (like those used
for repairing aircraft) is proposed as the
most effective way of packaging high
technology for quick and unobtrusive repairs. A noise suppression unit could be used
to radiate quiet throughout the house. Heat
A heat pump would drive a thermal
cycle in the building to collect,
dissipate, store and redistribute heat for
year-round temperature control. The
floors and roof would become a ducted
circulation system (like a ‘printed
circuit’) for heating and cooling. Air
ducts would be cut into the composite
floor and roof materials. The air duct circuit could be specifically
designed for the demands of a
particular building. The circuit plan and cutting is a computerised operation,
done just prior to the glue-lamination of
the upper surface. The heat pump system would be
integral to the building structure in the
way that blood is to the body. It would
only be visible through secondary
manifestations such as intake ports on
the building facade, the fine computer-sensing
arrays inside and outside and
the forced-flow fan mountings.
The real organisation of the heat
pump—its visceral network of ducts
and tubes—would be ubiquitous but
also invisible. Exothermic Paint
Internal walls could be coated with
exothermic paint to create large and
very efficient space heaters. When a
current passes through exothermic
paint, it radiates heat and can produce
temperatures from 1 to 1000° Celsius
(depending on paint thickness, chemical
composition and electrode placement and voltages). Electrical connections are
made with silver paste or copper mesh
tape. Like conventional paint,
exothermic paint can be brushed or
sprayed onto a wide range of surfaces
and shapes. It is soluble in organic
solvents and dries in 20 minutes at
room temperature. Rustol, a Japanese
manufacturer, claims that the paint can
generate equivalent amounts of heat
with only one third of the power
required by resistance heaters. Integrated Service Loom
A key strategy of the Hyper House is to
make space more equipotential—that
is, to allow any range of functions in the
space, or different ones at different
times. The first step is to integrate all
the services. These can be ducted along
a floor channel or along the inside of
the perimeter wall at chair rail height.
All services would be contained within a
single, flexible ‘loom’ (duct) that doesn’t
require corners or joins like traditional plumbing. The loom takes sewage out, brings mains water, electricity, telephone
and video in, and conducts data through. Appliances are plugged in. By such
means, a space is essentially characterised by its facility for connection, for change,
flexibility and a long life. Bathroom
The bathroom is planned as a roll-in, roll-out module (extrapolated from aircraft
toilet modules and designed around a mechanical vapour-recompression water
recycling unit) with fold-out bath, toilet and hand basin. These fittings can be folded
away to allow other uses of the bathroom space. The mobile bathroom uses a flexible dry-break connection system for fast
plumbing. All systems are intended to minimise water use. The profiles of the
fittings would reduce water flow by up to 50 percent compared with traditional
fittings. Without sacrificing comfort, these designs also do away with non-functional
water holding space. The toilet uses a dry flush system requiring only 10 percent of the water required
by a traditional unit. It incorporates a non-mechanical system to liquify solid waste
for efficient disposal. Sewage plumbing cross-sections can thus be greatly reduced.
The toilet pan and shower head retract into the bathroom module and the bath folds
up into the shower recess. Grey water from the shower and hand basin would be distilled and purified in a
mechanical vapour recompression unit. MVR technology works by creating a partial
vacuum to boil water using less energy than usual. This water—which becomes
drinkable—would be stored in a 44 gallon tank for reuse in the shower and basin
and for flushing the toilet. Architecture as Media
Japanese architect Toyo Ito has said that architecture must become understood as
a ‘media suit’ to interact with and moderate the information environment—just as
clothing is an extension of our skin and the automobile is a mechanical kind of suit
or extension. We must come to terms with an extraordinary interchangeability of form and
function and the loss of traditional cause-and-effect relationships as sanctified by
modernism. Constantly shifting functions can’t generate fixed physical forms.The
appropriate response to diverse functions is to express multiple, fragmented and
dislocated terrains and to separate the structure and facade (or interface). There has been some history to the evolving schism between the appearance of a
building and its structure. “The triumph of the superficial”—as Stuart Ewen calls it
in All Consuming Images, is not a new phenomenon—but architects have yet to
understand the consequences of this separation of skin (surface) and structure.
Until the 19th century, architecture used load-bearing walls to hold up buildings.
Although it was common to apply decoration to their surfaces, walls performed a
key support function. Often there was a connection between the type of image used
and the structure of the wall. By the 1830s, that connection between image,
structure and construction method had gone. New methods employed an inner
structural frame to support a building. Whether they were ‘balloon frame’ structures covered by a skin or ‘structural
frames’ covered by curtain walls, these new support systems meant that walls no
longer played a structural role: they became increasingly ornamental. A multiplicity
of styles became possible with the development of prefabricated panels, ready to be shaped, painted, or printed to reflect any image, any period. With the skin disembodied, the roles of the engineer and the architect became
increasingly separated: the engineer took care of the frame, the architect the skin.
As a result, architecture has become a matter of appearances.
Yet if most architecture is about surfaces, about applying decoration, about
decorated sheds, what distinguishes this discipline from billboard design—or from
any branch of graphics? In an attempt to deal with today’s culture of the ‘dis-appearance’ of unstable
images, architecture can reveal the transience of these unstable images by the use
of such devices as the digital facade—where there is no cause-and-effect
relationship between the building and its use. Electronic facades can be both enclosure and spectacle. As Bernard Tschumi has
argued, there can be no new Bauhaus. We are no longer dealing with coherent,
well-defined disciplines but with the diversities of performance art, cinema, video
and film production. A facade might be a media strip, a flow of projections and
people, a city event.
Towards a Dynamic Interface
Buckminster Fuller described a process of technological evolution as
‘ephemeralisation’, where doing more for less could lead to an implosion of
functions, one into another, until only a single, fine, multi-functional envelope would
take the place of the separate cultures of structure, aesthetics and service systems.
This notion was also the basis of Reyner Banham’s 1965 Un-house, a “standard of
living package” containing all the necessities of modern life (shelter, food, energy,
television) in an environment bubble of transparent plastic, inflated by the air
conditioning output. Rem Koolhaas sees architecture again splitting (as with the Gothic separation of
painting and sculpture from building) into two streams; a seductive, aesthetically
adventurous, virtual reality contrasted by physical, sensible, cost-effective, minimal
and still desirable buildings. Paul Virilio has observed that the essence of design today lies in information.
Designing material form is now less significant than broadcasting images of forms
via telecommunications. Immediacy and impact are more important than an object’s
capacity to last. Certainly architecture, in terms of information technology, is a control system for our
experiences of the world. It can filter out the unwelcome and celebrate the desired.
It can create an artificial reality. Computer-defined virtual reality achieves instant environmental transformation,
substituting mass and structure for electronic simulation. Architecture thus can be
seen as a subset of a wider field of artificial reality. The infiltration of electronics
into the vocabulary of building brings with it the capacity for connecting all systems
within the building, and the building itself, to the surrounding world. Such a
connection might simply produce enhanced communication with people outside the
building or it could set up an interaction with, or a response to, the emission of data
from any source or algorithm … the building becomes a dynamic topological
process; a seismic boundary. Buildings have potential to be dynamic interfaces. Michael Trudgeon is a principal of Crowd Productions (industrial and graphic design)
in Melbourne and a double architecture graduate from RMIT. Earlier concepts for the
Hyper House have been widely exhibited and reported. Computer visualisations by Glynis Teo |