108 resultados para History of domestic architecture
em Queensland University of Technology - ePrints Archive
Resumo:
This paper discusses the Coordinated Family Dispute Resolution (family mediation) process piloted in Australia in 2010–2012. This process was evaluated by the Australian Institute of Family Studies as being ‘at the cutting edge of family law practice’ because it involves the conscious application of mediation where there has been a history of family violence, in a clinically collaborative multidisciplinary and multi-agency setting. The Australian government’s failure to invest resources in the ongoing funding of this model jeopardises the safety and efficacy of family dispute resolution practice in family violence contexts, and compromises the hearing of the voices of family violence victims and their children.
Resumo:
Historic house museums form a significant component of the built heritage and social history of a country. They vary from the elaborate mansions of the wealthy to modest dwellings of the working class. Regardless of the original owner's status in society these house museums are vital to an understanding of architecture, culture and society from a bygone era. The Newstead House, the oldest surviving residence, in Brisbane, is the first house to be designated a 'Historic House Museum' in Queensland. It is a representative example of a house that demonstrates the British colonial heritage of 19th century Australia. Originally a modest cottage, on 34 acres of land, the Newstead house was built by a Scottish migrant. The ownership of the house and land changed many times, during the period from 1847 to 1939. During this period a series of prominent residents of Brisbane either owned or rented this residence. They included, an officer of the Royal Navy, politicians, magistrates, merchant ship owners, and a Consul General of the United States of America. As a result, the house went through a series of renovations and extensions to accommodate the needs of its owners and their position in society. This paper aims to investigate the significance of historic museum houses in educating the community on aspects of social history, culture and architecture of 19th century Australia. It will focus on the heritage listed Newstead House as a case study to demonstrate the significance of the house as an artefact and an educational tool.
Resumo:
This article investigates the role of “soft architecture” and interior effects—including window treatments, textiles, and electric lighting—in the physcial and social construction of the postwar domestic environment in the USA. In this period the American home became an increasingly visual and visible space, defined more by the view out and the view in than by traditional conditions of domestic enclosure. Popular how-to columns and home decoration articles offered homemakers a variety of mechanisms for sustaining the appearance and psychological comfort of the modern domestic setting. Examining a range of popular decorative strategies used to mediate residential picture windows and window walls, this study challenges the deep-seated cultural and disciplinary biases associated with both the design and study of domestic architecture and interiors. Drawing upon historical documents and contemporary theorizations of the interior, this paper argues for the agency of “soft architecture” in the domestication of modern residential architecture.
Resumo:
The urban waterfront may be regarded as the littoral frontier of human settlement. Typically, over the years, it advances, sometimes retreats, where terrestrial and aquatic processes interact and frequently contest this margin of occupation. Because most towns and cities are sited beside water bodies, many of these urban centers on or close to the sea, their physical expansion is constrained by the existence of aquatic areas in one or more directions from the core. It is usually much easier for new urban development to occur along or inland from the waterfront. Where other physical constraints, such as rugged hills or mountains, make expansion difficult or expensive, building at greater densities or construction on steep slopes is a common response. This kind of development, though technically feasible, is usually more expensive than construction on level or gently sloping land, however. Moreover, there are many reasons for developing along the shore or riverfront in preference to using sites further inland. The high cost of developing existing dry land that presents serious construction difficulties is one reason for creating new land from adjacent areas that are permanently or periodically under water. Another reason is the relatively high value of artificially created land close to the urban centre when compared with the value of existing developable space at a greater distance inland. The creation of space for development is not the only motivation for urban expansion into aquatic areas. Commonly, urban places on the margins of the sea, estuaries, rivers or great lakes are, or were once, ports where shipping played an important role in the economy. The demand for deep waterfronts to allow ships to berth and for adjacent space to accommodate various port facilities has encouraged the advance of the urban land area across marginal shallows in ports around the world. The space and locational demands of port related industry and commerce, too, have contributed to this process. Often closely related to these developments is the generation of waste, including domestic refuse, unwanted industrial by-products, site formation and demolition debris and harbor dredgings. From ancient times, the foreshore has been used as a disposal area for waste from nearby settlements, a practice that continues on a huge scale today. Land formed in this way has long been used for urban development, despite problems that can arise from the nature of the dumped material and the way in which it is deposited. Disposal of waste material is a major factor in the creation of new urban land. Pollution of the foreshore and other water margin wetlands in this way encouraged the idea that the reclamation of these areas may be desirable on public health grounds. With reference to examples from various parts of the world, the historical development of the urban littoral frontier and its effects on the morphology and character of towns and cities are illustrated and discussed. The threat of rising sea levels and the heritage value of many waterfront areas are other considerations that are addressed.
Resumo:
The noble idea of studying seminal works to ‘see what we can learn’ has turned in the 1990s into ‘let’s see what we can take’ and in the last decade a more toxic derivative ‘what else can’t we take’. That is my observation as a student of architecture in the 1990s, and as a practitioner in the 2000s. In 2010, the sense that something is ending is clear. The next generation is rising and their gaze has shifted. The idea of classification (as a means of separation) was previously rejected by a generation of Postmodernists; the usefulness of difference declined. It’s there in the presence of plurality in the resulting architecture, a decision to mine history and seize in a willful manner. This is a process of looking back but never forward. It has been a mono-culture of absorption. The mono-culture rejected the pursuit of the realistic. It is a blanket suffocating all practice of architecture in this country from the mercantile to the intellectual. Independent reviews of Australia’s recent contributions to the Venice Architecture Biennales confirm the malaise. The next generation is beginning to reconsider classification as a means of unification. By acknowledging the characteristics of competing forces it is possible to bring them into a state of tension. Seeking a beautiful contrast is a means to a new end. In the political setting, this is described by Noel Pearson as the radical centre[1]. The concept transcends the political and in its most essential form is a cultural phenomenon. It resists the compromised position and suggests that we can look back while looking forward. The radical centre is the only demonstrated opportunity where it is possible to pursue a realistic architecture. A realistic architecture in Australia may be partially resolved by addressing our anxiety of permanence. Farrelly’s built desires[2] and Markham’s ritual demonstrations[3] are two ways into understanding the broader spectrum of permanence. But I think they are downstream of our core problem. Our problem, as architects, is that we are yet to come to terms with this place. Some call it landscape others call it country. Australian cities were laid out on what was mistaken for a blank canvas. On some occasions there was the consideration of the landscape when it presented insurmountable physical obstacles. The architecture since has continued to work on its piece of a constantly blank canvas. Even more ironic is the commercial awards programs that represent a claim within this framework but at best can only establish a dialogue within itself. This is a closed system unable to look forward. It is said that Melbourne is the most European city in the southern hemisphere but what is really being described there is the limitation of a senseless grid. After all, if Dutch landscape informs Dutch architecture why can’t the Australian landscape inform Australian architecture? To do that, we would have to acknowledge our moribund grasp of the meaning of the Australian landscape. Or more precisely what Indigenes call Country[4]. This is a complex notion and there are different ways into it. Country is experienced and understood through the senses and seared into memory. If one begins design at that starting point it is not unreasonable to think we can arrive at an end point that is a counter trajectory to where we have taken ourselves. A recent studio with Masters students confirmed this. Start by finding Country and it would be impossible to end up with a building looking like an Aboriginal man’s face. To date architecture in Australia has overwhelmingly ignored Country on the back of terra nullius. It can’t seem to get past the picturesque. Why is it so hard? The art world came to terms with this challenge, so too did the legal establishment, even the political scene headed into new waters. It would be easy to blame the budgets of commerce or the constraints of program or even the pressure of success. But that is too easy. Those factors are in fact the kind of limitations that opportunities grow out of. The past decade of economic plenty has, for the most part, smothered the idea that our capitals might enable civic settings or an architecture that is able to looks past lot line boundaries in a dignified manner. The denied opportunities of these settings to be prompted by the Country they occupy is criminal. The public realm is arrested in its development because we refuse to accept Country as a spatial condition. What we seem to be able to embrace is literal and symbolic gestures usually taking the form of a trumped up art installations. All talk – no action. To continue to leave the public realm to the stewardship of mercantile interests is like embracing derivative lending after the global financial crisis.Herein rests an argument for why we need a resourced Government Architect’s office operating not as an isolated lobbyist for business but as a steward of the public realm for both the past and the future. New South Wales is the leading model with Queensland close behind. That is not to say both do not have flaws but current calls for their cessation on the grounds of design parity poorly mask commercial self interest. In Queensland, lobbyists are heavily regulated now with an aim to ensure integrity and accountability. In essence, what I am speaking of will not be found in Reconciliation Action Plans that double as business plans, or the mining of Aboriginal culture for the next marketing gimmick, or even discussions around how to make buildings more ‘Aboriginal’. It will come from the next generation who reject the noxious mono-culture of absorption and embrace a counter trajectory to pursue an architecture of realism.
Resumo:
In the first half of the twentieth century the dematerializing of boundaries between enclosure and exposure problematized traditional acts of “occupation” and understandings of the domestic environment. As a space of escalating technological control, the modern domestic interior offered new potential to re-define the meaning and means of habitation. This shift is clearly expressed in the transformation of electric lighting technology and applications for the modern interior in the mid-twentieth century. Addressing these issues, this paper examines the critical role of electric lighting in regulating and framing both the public and private occupation of Philip Johnson’s New Canaan estate. Exploring the dialectically paired transparent Glass House and opaque Guest House (both 1949), this study illustrates how Johnson employed artificial light to control the visual environment of the estate as well as to aestheticize the performance of domestic space. Looking closely at the use of artificial light to create emotive effects as well as to intensify the experience of occupation, this revisiting of the iconic Glass House and lesser-known Guest House provides a more complex understanding of Johnson’s work and the means with which he inhabited his own architecture. Calling attention to the importance of Johnson serving as both architect and client, and his particular interest in exploring the new potential of architectural lighting in this period, this paper investigates Johnson’s use of electric light to support architectural narratives, maintain visual order and control, and to suit the nuanced desires of domestic occupation.