Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire: 100 Year Anniversary

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, 25 March 1911. Source.

Friday was the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire. The factory caught fire during the workday, but the doors were locked from the outside to prevent the theft among the laborers, the fire escapes were faulty, and when the fire department arrived, their ladders only reached to the 6th floor. People began jumping from the 9th and 10th floors, but the firemen's  nets were not strong enough to safely break their falls. 148 mostly Italian and Jewish immigrant men, women, and children died within 18 minutes, and it still stands as the worst factory fire in US history.

Obviously this had a profound effect on fire and building codes, worker safety issues, etc - and thus on building design - but I also think it's worth a moment to remind ourselves of the incredible events that often have to happen before people remove their heads from, ahem, you-know-where. These same workers joined a 20,000-person march two years before, protesting factory working conditions, to almost no effect, and two years after the fire, the Triangle Factory owners were fined $25 for again locking the doors of their factory.

That building was built to existing codes and regulations - in fact, it was considered "fire-proof." But code, even today, is just a passing grade - a "C." What kind of buildings would we build if we went for an "A?" What impact would they have, beyond just keeping the rain out and us inside, on us, on society? I for one mean to find out.

A great site for more information is here.

Zürich at night

Church + tram, Zürich.

Diana, nighttime, Zürich.

I didn't get to spend any time in Zürich, just one evening. [A good opportunity to practice tripod-less night shots...oops...] We wandered around the streets, which were all lit for Christmas. Many of the streets were closed to cars, and were like this one - no sidewalks, shops exiting directly onto the street, living spaces above. There seemed to be a preponderance of instrument shops, and I heard music filtering through the streets and drifting down from windows more than once. One other point of interest: the parking garage was immaculate. I mean, absolutely beautiful - and everything was colorful, automated, and organized. There was a gentleman there cleaning it, and I'm fairly certain I saw a toothbrush in his hand.

Swiss Urban-Rural-Attached-Barn-Houses

Attached house and barn combo outside of Bäretsvil, Switzerland.

C. 17th century attached houses outside of Bäretsvil, Switzerland.

House and barn combo, in a town outside of Hinwil, Switzerland.

 

 

 

 

Shingles, St Benedigt Chapel, Sumvitg, Switzerland, P. Zumthor.

These houses are all in the towns surrounding Hinwil and Bäretsvil, about an hour and a half outside of Zürich. I am fascinated by the combinations of attached buildings - attached houses, house + barn combos, house + shop combos. The middle photo is a 17th century house, and was a form relatively common the area during that time. It makes sense - it's efficient in terms of energy resources, materials, etc - but it does require a different, more urban mode of dwelling. It seems strange, perhaps, to the American eye, to group everyone [including farmers] together so closely while leaving so much open space, but that's, of course, just the point. The landscape in this area is metered by a mostly steady rhythm of small towns, open fields, and forest patches, whose locations are determined by site factors [rivers, topography, sun exposure]. This arrangement allows for the maximum amount of land for farming and grazing usage. But, the fact that this pattern still exists is a testament to its success over time, and in a variety of economic climates.

Architecturally speaking, I love the house + barn combo. Again, material, energy, usage efficiency - but also, because different materials are used for each, there is a beautiful seam, or moment of contrast, between the two - between masonry and wood board-and-batten or shingle; where one remains white and pristine, the other weathers; one is painted over and built up over time, the other rots away and is replaced; one is for people, one is for animals; both are necessary for the other.

And so, lesson number #47 of field research: I went in search of precedents for the single family Swiss German Pennsylvania farmhouse, and instead, found urban-ish, hybrid use forms [and a corresponding land-use strategy] that were a lot more interesting. The question is, what made then leave that concept behind when they settled here in PA?

Doors into walls.

Access door [far left, behind Christmas tree] to the stair leading to the pulpit [center].

Access door to pulpit stair, detail.

Access door to belltower stair.

These three images are from the Reformed Church, Hinwil, Switzerland. I love the approach to circulation - if it gets too messy, just stick it in a wall. It gives the building [which is a very simple volume] not only a Dr Seuss quality - doors and passages and stairways disappearing, wacky scales  - but also a theatrical quality. The preacher disappears through a door into a wall, then reappears high on the wall in the pulpit. This obviously serves a liturgical purpose [the centrality and importance of the "word proclaimed" in Protestant, and particularly Reformed, theology], but also lends an air of mystery, as the ascent of the preacher is hidden from view, and the origin of his/her emergence appears to be, paradoxically, a thin wall, or even outside, as the windows behind him/her attest.

It's an interesting approach to a practical problem - a moment when practicality is shunted in favor of maintaining the purity of the interior volume and creating drama. I also think it's fun - and I can't help but imagine that the gravitas of the moment when the preacher emerges from the wall into the pulpit must be tinged with a bit of whimsy and curiosity...

While we're on the topic...

  

My first SOM trip was to Switzerland, where I, of course, went on a Zumthor tour. We spent our last day in Switzerland here at the Thermal Baths in Vals, which was perfect for two reasons: 1. it's the Thermal Baths, and 2. I had spent the previous day bouncing down the Alps with skis attached to my feet, so sitting in hot baths was just the ticket for my aching bones.

I was prepared for the approach to the Baths architecturally - all the books explain how you enter from below - but I really think the approach begins miles away, as one drives up the winding 1.5 lane road, snowsheds overhead, mineral water trucks barreling down the mountain, and curve after curve carved into the side of the mountains. After being thusly prepped, the Baths seemed like one more snowshed - a construction of the surrounding landscape. 

The Baths themselves have already been expounded upon by others better equipped with archi-speak than I, so I will just say that they're right, but you have to see it for yourself. Not just see it of course, but touch it, hear it, smell it, and even taste it. The whole building is a registrator and facilitator of human form and sense: the rectilinearity of the architecture against the sinuous forms of bodies [walking, standing, sitting, reclining, swimming]; the laughter or shrieks of surprise [some of that water is cold] echoing and bouncing around the cavernous interior; the smell of flowers, or hot stone, or copper-infused water; the sounds of water [lapping, overflowing, filling, draining, steaming, evaporating] or even pieces of music composed specifically for spaces within the baths; the taste of the water; the site of Alps out the window and the wet footprints on the stone floors. The experience was completely magical, and the architecture was so quietly making it all happen, from the exalted [the Alps] to the mundane [the handrails].

Would that all buildings could be so closely tied to, and inspired by, their contexts, utility, and the senses.

inaugural post

I've tried this whole blogging thing before - it didn't end well. Cue exuberant posting in week one, with posting dribbling to nothingness within a month. But now, I've got all kinds of new fodder, mostly provided by my new city and my SOM travels....

So, here goes - starting off in style with Zumthor's Kunsthaus in Bregenz, Switzerland, which I made a pilgrimage to just after Christmas, 2010.