The nature of cooperative space
Nullniveau
Noelia Monteiro
In the face of ecological emergency, the question arises: how can new architectural forms emerge from locally available materials and energy? Just as the environment is defined by the intersection of ground, climate, and savoir-faire, architecture similarly represents the cultural shaping of materials and resources. Reyner Banham, in 1969, articulated architecture as a dual strategy tied to its environment, illustrating this with the story of a tribe arriving at a campsite well-supplied with fallen timber. This timber could serve a dual purpose: either as a structural solution for shelter or it can also be used as an energy source to make fire. As we confront serious environmental challenges today, we must explore how contemporary architectural forms can arise from this renewed understanding of material and energy rationality.
In the process of my current research I have been cataloguing a wide range of approaches from traditional communities in remote areas of Brazil. This included the analysis of available construction materials, local techniques, geography, and climatic conditions, alongside community reviews of projects. A key question emerged: in the face of resource scarcity, what should the primary action be when starting with almost nothing?
Paulo Mendes da Rocha, in a statement about a house for engineer António Gerassi in São Paulo, emphasised that one can create a home with whatever materials are available. This perspective underscores the “survival” response that exists alongside more technocratic discourses. Despite these complexities, there remains a deep conviction in architecture's regenerative capacity to transform what is often considered a hostile tropical landscape. Ultimately, every individual possesses the potential to be an architect, driven by the urgency of need and necessity.
A crucial first step could be as simple as setting a shadow to define the use of space. The precision of the structure can impart a sense of lightness, allowing the building to dissolve into the landscape. To further investigate the idea of coverage as an initial protective measure, I present three case studies: the Canoas shelter for a caiçara community on Jaguanum Island, the Reference Center for women in the village of Sumauma, and the reform of an edible oil production factory in Vitória do Mearim. In each of these cases, the resolution of coverage became the central element of the design. This leads us to ask: what can we learn from roofs as a primary form of protection?
The nature of cooperative space
Nullniveau
Noelia Monteiro
In the face of ecological emergency, the question arises: how can new architectural forms emerge from locally available materials and energy? Just as the environment is defined by the intersection of ground, climate, and savoir-faire, architecture similarly represents the cultural shaping of materials and resources. Reyner Banham, in 1969, articulated architecture as a dual strategy tied to its environment, illustrating this with the story of a tribe arriving at a campsite well-supplied with fallen timber. This timber could serve a dual purpose: either as a structural solution for shelter or it can also be used as an energy source to make fire. As we confront serious environmental challenges today, we must explore how contemporary architectural forms can arise from this renewed understanding of material and energy rationality.
In the process of my current research I have been cataloguing a wide range of approaches from traditional communities in remote areas of Brazil. This included the analysis of available construction materials, local techniques, geography, and climatic conditions, alongside community reviews of projects. A key question emerged: in the face of resource scarcity, what should the primary action be when starting with almost nothing?
Paulo Mendes da Rocha, in a statement about a house for engineer António Gerassi in São Paulo, emphasised that one can create a home with whatever materials are available. This perspective underscores the “survival” response that exists alongside more technocratic discourses. Despite these complexities, there remains a deep conviction in architecture's regenerative capacity to transform what is often considered a hostile tropical landscape. Ultimately, every individual possesses the potential to be an architect, driven by the urgency of need and necessity.
A crucial first step could be as simple as setting a shadow to define the use of space. The precision of the structure can impart a sense of lightness, allowing the building to dissolve into the landscape. To further investigate the idea of coverage as an initial protective measure, I present three case studies: the Canoas shelter for a caiçara community on Jaguanum Island, the Reference Center for women in the village of Sumauma, and the reform of an edible oil production factory in Vitória do Mearim. In each of these cases, the resolution of coverage became the central element of the design. This leads us to ask: what can we learn from roofs as a primary form of protection?
