City Grove Final

Program: Chair Co-op Building
Description: Urban Agriculture / Chair Growth and Design
Site: Addis Ababa, Ethiopia


| Concept |

The City Grove is a proposal for the commercialization of a natural resource through its transformation into a profitable constructed unit. It brings a program of agriculture into the city by joining it to the the consumerist aspect of the urban condition.

The walls of the co-op are used to dry and store freshly harvested bamboo. These partitions function as structure for the roof, storage for bamboo, and serve to control the amount of light entering the interior spaces. The views and privacy of the interior is variant depending on the placement and density of the bamboo.

| Facts |

- 67% of African bamboo and 7% of the world's bamboo is grown in Ethiopia.
- Highland bamboo (Arundianira Alpina) grows to an average size of 60 feet by 4 inches.
- Tensile strength of the bamboo is 15,000 lbs/sq. in, which is similar to mild steel.

| Program |

Urban Space
Workshop - 3000 sq. ft.
- Cutting - Finishing - Assembling - Storage - Metal Shop
Show room - 1200 sq. ft.

Commercial
- Office - 400 sq. ft.
- Bathrooms - 400 sq. ft.

Other
- Circulation - 200 sq. ft.
- Storage - 300 sq. ft.

----Total Sq. Ft. 5500

Agriculture Space
Bamboo Grove - 9000 sq. ft.

----Total Sq. Ft. 9000


Chair Showroom with empty racks


CITY GROVE | chair monoculture
Chair Showroom with nearly full racks

Quotations

So we have architect Peter Rich visiting the studio to give some tips and assistance with our eventual chair co-op project. He's an interesting guy, and quite entertaining to listen to.


"You have to visit architecture. To not do so would be like having a girlfriend and just holding hands" - Peter Rich

Chair Finale

Debundled Chair

The chair was designed so that it could be constructed by a single individual with the most rudimentary and commonplace construction tools available. The focus of the project was the evolution of design form through simple methods. The final product relies on the precision of the human hand so while the design may remain the same, the actual object would change slightly with every iteration. With a single person working on the chair, it could reasonably be constructed within 2-4 days. The bonding agent doesn’t have a particularly long curing time, so completing the chair ultimately depends on the efficiency of the builder. Pieces have to be sanded, marked, cut, drilled and glued, but while one segment is drying another can be started. Overall the project cost roughly $330, but only $75 of that grand total was used for material in the final chair. The rest of the amount went to other supplies and prototyping the design.

A simplistic unity is achieved through the employment of a singular material with different uses- beams for structure, dowels for connections, and scraps for surfaces. The material was chosen with the context in mind; lumber is abundant in this region. It is easily acquired, economically transported, and is workable by a singular person without difficulty. In its raw form it is frequently used in a wide variety of applications, and when refined it radiates aesthetic virtue.

Process Work

Got the frame for the final pieces ready to go.

Featured Article

One of the projects me and Justin worked on last semester got noticed, there's an interview type thing over at CityFarmer.info. Pretty exciting. It's not a major news netork but hey it's a start, ha ha.

Chair Mockup

Here's a full-scale mockup of the skeleton for the artist's chair. I'd like to take this time to thank my dad for making me learn how to handsaw wood as a child.

Week 4 Update

Here's presented a view of the last studio for UF, with my trusted grey chair poised and at the ready. The chair project is developing, and what started as simply a cantilevered chair that was designed to reflect the context it was placed in, transformed into a monstrousity of its own. In an attempt to entertain myself, I started to stack the iterations of the chair on top of each other. Upon seeing this, it was declared that what I had just put together should be the chair. And bravely (though some would say foolishly), I agree to these demands.

So now the chair is programmed for an artist, and is being envisioned as a chair and an easel all in one, so one can paint while they sit and sit while they paint.

Featured Work

Posted my portfolio work up on a design site called Coroflot, and one of the projects (The Urban Farm), got placed as the featured work for January 29th. That's not too bad.


Coroflot Profile - Trevor Boyle

Final Updates

After all is said and done, finally have the printable version of the portfolio ready to get assembled and sent out. It's unbelievably how much of a time-consuming process it can be, something that can probably be worked on and tweaked infinitely. But there is a deadline so it had to be finished over the break.

Return to the Forsaken

Long time, no post.

My sincerest apologizes for the lack of love to this wonderful empty canvas on the interwebs. Unfortunately, about when I left off is when things started to get real in the semester. Updates are going to much more frequent as of now, coming every Friday as a way of discussing how the design studio is progressing- this last semester as an undergrad at UF.

Pictures of the new studio are soon to come, how it looks is complete madness. While last semester dealt primarily in New York, this semester's focus is going to be in Africa- Ethiopia more specifically.

The portfolio I posted pieces of is also finished by now, I'll upload more of that as time goes on.

simulariTREES

It's quite amazing how the most mundane action can unexpectedly trigger thought processes. For example, plucking a leaf off a bush as you walk past it.

The underside of a leaf and the underside of a forearm. Both teaming with veins that constrain against the containing skin membrane that covers and protects them. Is it coincidental just how similar humans are to plant life? We breath the same air (though in reverse).We grow through the division of cells powered by the intake of water and nutrients. We reproduce and populate our surroundings. We eventually start to break down, weaken, and eventually die.

The only factor is the human sapience - our language and information processing when it comes to reacting to our environment. But plants react, too. Plants grow in the direction of the sun. Some plants can trap attacks, while some release pollens and other particulates when threatened. I consider that reaction to one's environment. And to be fair there are some animals that communicate and exhibit traits of intelligence, we as a species can't even claim that.

So there is some common corporal connection between us and what we consider our environment. People have even come to design the structures which house them through the same understanding. The physical construction of a human body and that of a dwelling is roughly analogous in function.

Structure: rigid framework that provides form
Humans - skeletal system. Houses - wood frame

Membrane: protection from outside environment
Humans - skin layer. Houses - drywall and insulation

Ventilation/Circulation: the filtration and distribution of oxygen
Humans - lungs and veins/arteries. Houses - HVACs and ducts

Circulation: delivery systems from a central processing area
Humans - nervous system. Houses - electricity wires

Hydration: source and removal of water
Humans - digestion system. Houses - supply and return pipes

Am I saying that there is a problem with this conception of a building? Not really. After all, the human body is an amazing machine, calibrated perfectly to functioning in many different extremes of environments. And I've heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I do, however, think that this realization is the first step in the creation of an entirely new method of construction and the key to revolutionizing the idea of a building.

If Google.Maps has taught me anything, it's that the first step in figuring out how to get where you are going is to find out where you are now.

formLESS

What is architecture? Formless.

We are a society of labelers. Of styles. Things which fit into nice, neat categories. Everything has to be able to be described as part of some kind of movement, and then thrown into a big collection of everything stuck with that tag. No deviations from the norm. OR, if the deviations exist, they are all lumped together and labled deviations. Ironic. Their differences make them the same.

Classicalism. Modernism. Post-moderism. Deconstructivism. Blobitecture.

Too many definitions for the same thing: Architecture. Architecture is not a style. They are too many to mention. Architecture is not a form. The forms are as varied as imagination will allow. The characteristics of what defines a space is not what makes architecture. Decoration is not architecture. Material pallets are not architecture. Computer generated forms are not architecture. They are simply the means through which the idea is conveyed. Its akin to calling the brush or the paint which was used to make an image a "painting." It simply isn't. They are integral to the actual act of constructing or forming the painting. Without them there would be no painting. But that does not mean they are the painting. They have influence, but the end result is an entity independent from them.

If it creates space, it is architecture. The form is incidental. The style is incidental. Labels created by a society which grew up classifying its classmates into groups with various cool points. Fuel for a raging fire of discussion on personal opinions.

In the end, all that matters is the space. Its characteristics. The thoughts. The feelings. The creativity it sparks. Everything else is simply what makes that possible.

my life: FOUR in the MORNING

What I have here is a blast from the past; something written back in the first couple semesters in the architecture program.


So I've left the studio. My life. My life is that little room filled with desks and scraps of wood and paper. A sterile environment; the only auditory, olfactory, or visual stimuli are the ones that I have brought in with me. It's dedication. To work like this. Something no one outside the major gets. Outsiders look at the work, hear the ideas. They know that hours upon hours are spent. They can understand the intensity. But they can not understand where the time goes. To other people, the work I do is meaningless. Explanations fall on deaf ears. Ideas that have been hand-crafted, inspired, sculpted with loving precision. These ideas turn to lumps of stone in the eyes of non-architecture majors.

To be misunderstood would be one thing. Misunderstanding implies a connection made, just one doesn't lead to the correct destination. Nothing can describe the blank stare. The words. The words that carry nothing but polite faux interest. People are uninterested at the worst, confused at the best. The confusion: all I have is some paper that has been cut and glued together. Kids do this all the time in elementary school. Why does it take so long to do this? I thought I said I spend so much money on these projects. Sigh.

This is architectural design. Not building construction. There is a difference.

But like I said, this is my life. From morning to morning, excluding what little sleep I manage to sneak in at random times during the day. Excluding the breaks for a meal, for other classes. Excluding little breaks, I am constantly working on design. We in the major huddle together. Not for warmth, but to keep back the rising tide. We are the ones who have made it thus far. We have watched our fellow classmates drop out of the major. It felt like Normandy. Not everyone could live like this. Not everyone could understand the assigned work. Not everyone wanted this. We have made it thus far. We reminisce over missed peers. The have moved on. We have stayed to glue or draw at three in the morning. Competitions break out. Those who stay the longest, sleep the least; they are the winners. Anyone who leaves early is mocked by those who stay late. Anyone who stays late is mocked by those who leave early. Whoever placed caffiene dispensing machines so close to the studios is a rich entrepreneur. Artificial chemicals. Loud music. These compensate for a night's sleep. But poorly.

And now, ironically, time for me to sleep. A few hours of quiet. Ultimately it means nothing in terms of feeling rested. But still necessary. My life, at four in the morning.

Portfolio Updates

Realigned the layout of the portfolio so that it lays horizontal on an 8.5x11 sheet instead of vertically.

Sectional diagram taken from our current project in New York. A hotel overlooking the very scenic New Jersey.

Covergirl... er, Covermodel

It seems almost a waste to constantly upgrade the main boyletecture site when it's much easier to post the small additions here, and then when everything is together it can be moved over. With that in mind... first page of the new portfolio is done. It's only the cover, but the cover is important.

The New Design Digs

And so... it begins

under:COVER

A disguise. A lie. A fake facade that concels the truth. Pretending to be what one is not. Saying one thing, while the truth and reality remains otherwise. A direct and intentional mislead.

That is what achitecture has become.

Stucco is a cover. It is used to hide the fact that a building is made out of cylinder blocks or some other material. It tells the viewer that the wall is a single mass, when the truth is that this barrier is made of a constituency. Many components working together towards a single goal- in this case a wall.

Why? What is so wrong about embracing the material used? So it's concrete blocks and not solid gold. Get over it. This material was chosen for a reason. It serves a function that is done very well and done inexpensively. Are these people ashamed of their decision? They shouldn't be. They made the right choice. So they shouldn't have to hide it. Embrace it. Embrace the texture of the concrete. Embrace the module it creates. So it may not be the most beautiful, asthetically-pleasing material pallet. Stain it. Cover it with something that brings out its nature in new way. I've seen panels of particle board that were treated and looked gorgous. And particle board is a material with a bad reputation and for good reasons. It's been misused. Mistreated. But a gathering/seating area inside Full Sail University uses it for benches and does not try to lie about it. And it looks amazing.

A wave of uneasment- no, more than that, it was more along the lines of a deep-seated anger- ran over me when I came across a building in Charleston that had painted over granite panels. GRANITE. EXPENSIVE, BEAUTIFUL ROCK. It was covered with SOME BLAND, NON-DESCRIPT GREY PAINT. It makes no sense. It's plain blasphemy. A crime. The only enjoyment it brought was this sense of discovery when one notices the peeling back of paint. Its like dusting some dirt of a rock and having revealed a beautiful jem.

Sometimes you just have to find the beauty in natural things. Sometimes you just have to embrace things for what they are, and let that shine through.

Sometimes, you can't cover the truth.

formLESS

What is architecture? Formless.

We are a society of labelers. Of styles. Things which fit into nice, neat categories. Everything has to be able to be described as part of some kind of movement, and then thrown into a big collection of everything stuck with that tag. No deviations from the norm. OR, if the deviations exist, they are all lumped together and labled deviations. Ironic. Their differences make them the same.

Classicalism. Modernism. Post-moderism. Deconstructivism. Blobitecture.

Too many definitions for the same thing: Architecture. Architecture is not a style. They are too many to mention. Architecture is not a form. The forms are as varied as imagination will allow. The characteristics of what defines a space is not what makes architecture. Decoration is not architecture. Material pallets are not architecture. Computer generated forms are not architecture. They are simply the means through which the idea is conveyed. Its akin to calling the brush or the paint which was used to make an image a "painting." It simply isn't. They are integral to the actual act of constructing or forming the painting. Without them there would be no painting. But that does not mean they are the painting. They have influence, but the end result is an entity independent from them.

If it creates space, it is architecture. The form is incidental. The style is incidental. Labels created by a society which grew up classifying its classmates into groups with various cool points. Fuel for a raging fire of discussion on personal opinions.

In the end, all that matters is the space. Its characteristics. The thoughts. The feelings. The creativity it sparks. Everything else is simply what makes that possible.

my life: FOUR in the MORNING

So I've left the studio. My life. My life is that little room filled with desks and scraps of wood and paper. A sterile environment; the only auditory, olfactory, or visual stimuli are the ones that I have brought in with me. It's dedication. To work like this. Something no one outside the major gets. Outsiders look at the work, hear the ideas. They know that hours upon hours are spent. They can understand the intensity. But they can not understand where the time goes. To other people, the work I do is meaningless. Explanations fall on deaf ears. Ideas that have been hand-crafted, inspired, sculpted with loving precision. These ideas turn to lumps of stone in the eyes of non-architecture majors.

To be misunderstood would be one thing. Misunderstanding implies a connection made, just one doesn't lead to the correct destination. Nothing can describe the blank stare. The words. The words that carry nothing but polite faux interest. People are uninterested at the worst, confused at the best. The confusion: all I have is some paper that has been cut and glued together. Kids do this all the time in elementary school. Why does it take so long to do this? I thought I said I spend so much money on these projects. Sigh.

This is architectural design. Not building construction. There is a difference.

But like I said, this is my life. From morning to morning, excluding what little sleep I manage to sneak in at random times during the day. Excluding the breaks for a meal, for other classes. Excluding little breaks, I am constantly working on design. We in the major huddle together. Not for warmth, but to keep back the rising tide. We are the ones who have made it thus far. We have watched our fellow classmates drop out of the major. It felt like Normandy. Not everyone could live like this. Not everyone could understand the assigned work. Not everyone wanted this. We have made it thus far. We reminisce over missed peers. The have moved on. We have stayed to glue or draw at three in the morning. Competitions break out. Those who stay the longest, sleep the least; they are the winners. Anyone who leaves early is mocked by those who stay late. Anyone who stays late is mocked by those who leave early. Whoever placed caffiene dispensing machines so close to the studios is a rich entrepreneur. Artificial chemicals. Loud music. These compensate for a night's sleep. But poorly.

And now, ironically, time for me to sleep. A few hours of quiet. Ultimately it means nothing in terms of feeling rested. But still necessary. My life, at four in the morning.