6.18.2013

Jazz Guitar Rosette

Twelve Tones







slowly framing

the center of a sound hole

to allow music to flow delicately

amidst the movement of an off beat









































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The complex geometry of Jazz starts with the beautiful and simplistic framework of the modern twelve tones. Building from this base derives fractals of musical harmonies embellishing every note. Jazz unlike classical is formed from the feeling of the beat, the movement of sound and the caress of each tone. It is truly unwritten in its purest form. Transcribed jazz is but a symbol of an effigy. It is a pure form slightly obtuse and off kilter.
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5.15.2013

Steam Baths Act 5 -- Site and Design













































































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The Steam Bath’s entrance dips beneath the earth like the act of bathing. The underground parking baths the guests with light through the direct lightwells above. The noise from highway 61 is impeded by the curb-hill, low vegetation, tall trees, earthen-roof and lightwells. The site becomes quiet and calm. Only the sounds of lapping water and laughing guests are heard from the site.

To heat the structure the medieval kachelöfen is used. An intuitive system harnessing wood for a fuel source. After an hour of burning a log the oven is shut-off but will continue to heat the room for another twelve hours because of its channelled chimney. The oven is very efficient, using one log per year (6m3). The intuitive system uses radiant heating which warms the surrounding timbrel vaults rather than air. So, venting does not remove heat but rather only stale air within. The Steam Baths essentially become a giant oven stove.

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5.03.2013

Steam Baths Act 4 -- Building a Narrative









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Standing before a cold and heartless night, a position for the ‘hearth’ is confidently and delicately chosen. The fire is suddenly ripe with delight. The unhurried process of burning transforms the haunting of ‘ghoulish effigies’ into their former selves: trees and bugs. A night of survival is for the brave and practical. One must instinctually perform to stay alive and build a home where no civilization exists. My great yearning for the outdoors has left me with a high level of sympathy towards the innate habits which all humanity unconsciously embraces. These are the impulses our ancestors used to survive and craft the world around us.

Unfortunately, today we act without instinct and indeed we express this issue in our architecture: denial of the senses, loss of context, little purpose, refusal of higher meaning and no intuitiveness. Our priorities have switched gears towards the philosophies of technology forgetting that architecture and science should never be separated. We have become a counter-intuitive society without purpose. We erect oversized boxes which deny our human scale and habits. We are physiologically and mentally taxing humanity.

Conveniently, a simple examination of our primal to modern lives will provide the answer to this deep crisis. The innate habits we use everyday is the key to intuitive architecture. With purpose comes intuition. We all crave architecture that provides our senses with an immersive experience. Therefore, the bathhouse—an ancient typology—will be an example to root our designs.

Suitably, the majestic Lake Superior brings all to their knees with the frigid blue water. After one long and arduous journey in the woods, I was left dirty, hot and irritated. The smell of the lake seasoned in the heavy winds of summer drew me quickly. I saw sharp splendor as I gazed upon the vast expanse of the horizon. I slowly submerged myself into the tranquil lake. My muscles tensed, my body paralyzed and my mind became hypersensitive. I practiced the purification of ablution which primordial cultures traditionally invoked. The Bathhouse embodies this experience and provides a rest from our counter-intuitive architecture of today.
Palisade Head and Lake Superior convene at the edge of a primordial landscape. Rock and debris are indomitable apart from the sharp, blue waters. Nothing escapes Lake Superior. The bath house so instinctually connects with the interaction between land and water that Lake Superior becomes a principal example. The protruding shelf of Palisade Head interrupts the rhythms of the water like a colossal man entering a wave. The site views this natural event over the course of the harsh year.

Providentially, because the cliff side is connected to a public lake, the Bathhouse once more intuitively unites the site. Seriously taking into account the private versus public land, this public typology will not take away a resource that we so dearly need but rather invites public participation with nature. The significance of the bathhouse on this cliff allows the public to make use of an unused landscape. Currently, this terrain in uninhabited but through propagation and acoustic dampening, the site will enliven the North Shore—as if Lake Superior was never whole without the Bathhouse.

--excerpt: A Need For a New Desire 
Masters Thesis by jeremiah i. johnson
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4.17.2013

Steam Baths Act 3 -- Principles of Intuitive Design
































































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Principle Two:
the body

A chair, a handle and a door all possess a profound commonality. As simple as it may seem, each object bears a relation to our body. The chair is designed for our posterior to rest upon. The handle is for our hand to grasp. The door is a puncture for our body to pass through a wall. This deep perception into our built environment is sensationally important to the design of architecture. Without it, we could not craft. We have learned through creation that intuitive design is based on the human body. The speed we walk determines a distance. The height of our head determines how tall a ceiling should be. The placement of a light switch helps us in the dark. So, the old maxim, the world does not revolve around you; may not be entirely true. For the built environment is designed with one purpose: to exist for humanity.

Perpetually, our constructed environment resides within this tactile world. It is a world of the human body. Every shape, form, space and quality affects the way we related our body to this world. For illustration: A low-hung tree makes us duck, a vast cathedral causes us to look up or a long railroad track projects us into a vast horizon. We see the world relative to our form. Look around the room. Each object, material or placement connects us to our architecture. The body bridges that gap between an unknown mystery and the familiar. Unfortunately, today many objects once designed for the body now have degraded into a detail-less form that speaks not of our bodily construction. Everything has become flat and tactileless.

--excerpt: A Need For a New Desire 
Masters Thesis by jeremiah i. johnson
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