Latest news with #architect
Washington Post
16 hours ago
- Business
- Washington Post
Window-filled Arlington house for sale for $3.2 million
When John Abraham first saw the 1953 house at 2533 N Ridgeview Road in Arlington, Virginia, he thought it felt like someone had tried to disguise it. He saw that beneath mid-century paint and carpet was an International Style house designed by a prominent architect with materials rarely used by builders today. He had to have it, he said, 'come hell or high water.' The house he has owned for almost two decades is now on the market for $3.195 million.
Yahoo
16 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
He drove a bulldozer at Asia's first World Expo. Now, he's one of the event's star architects
In 1970, when the World Fair came to Asia for the first time, Shin Takamatsu was just a student. The aspiring architect was studying at Japan's Kyoto University while supporting a wife and young child, but he desperately wanted to be involved. This was, after all, one of the foremost architectural showcases in the world: over its history, iconic landmarks including the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, and the Space Needle were first displayed at the event. So when he heard that the event's construction site in nearby Osaka needed bulldozer drivers, he jumped at the chance, quickly getting his license and taking up a lucrative part-time job that gave him a front-row seat to watch the expo come to life. 'It was an exhilarating feeling to be in the middle of a tremendous creative phase,' Takamatsu recalled. 'Many dazzling, futuristic buildings were being constructed. But as I watched them, I felt that something was missing.' As a student, he didn't know exactly what that was. But the experience stayed with him, and over the years, it shaped his approach to architecture. 'I came to realize that the future cannot be envisioned solely by looking forward. By looking toward the past and interpreting and understanding it, we can develop a perspective on the future,' he said. In his latest project, his architectural philosophy and personal story come full circle: at Expo 2025 Osaka, Takamatsu returns to the event as the architect behind one of its most striking buildings. The pavilion — run jointly by housing company Iida Group and Osaka Metropolitan University — is modeled after a Möbius strip, which 'continues endlessly in a single loop,' and reflects 'reincarnation or sustainability,' explained Takamatsu. The pavilion looks like a delicately wrapped gift box, covered in a vibrant red, cherry blossom-adorned Nishijin brocade — a traditional textile that has been woven in Kyoto for 1,500 years and is typically used for luxury goods, like kimonos and obis, a kind of belt sash. Over 3,500 square meters (37,600 square feet) — the equivalent area of more than eight basketball courts — of the handmade silk material covers the pavilion's exterior, setting a Guinness World Record for the largest building wrapped in Jacquard fabric — a material with the design woven directly into the textile — and another for the largest roof in the shape of a fan. For Takamatsu, the historic textile represented the perfect way to bridge the past and future. 'It is the culmination of techniques that have been continuously refined over those 1,500 years,' he said, adding that architecture like this 'cherishes history and traditions, while proposing a future based on them.' While the use of fabric in architecture is uncommon, textiles have been used in manmade structures for tens of thousands of years. Bedouin tents in the Middle East, Native American teepees, and yurts in the Steppes of Central Asia and Mongolia are all examples of nomadic, semi-permanent structures where fabric provides warmth and protection from the elements, while being lightweight and flexible enough to carry. But modern architects have been reluctant to use fabric in construction, said Sukhvir Singh, a design professor and textiles expert at Shree Guru Gobind Singh Tricentenary University, in India, which he attributes to a lack of familiarity with the materials and their technical properties. It wasn't until the 1960s that architects began experimenting with fabrics: German architect Frei Otto was one of the pioneers of lightweight architecture, and at Expo 1967, hosted in Montreal, his design for the German Pavilion used a tensile steel structure to support a lightweight polyester canopy, leading to its nickname, 'the floating tent.' Since then, textiles have been used frequently in temporary structures for major events, such as the Olympics or World Expos. 'During these mega gatherings, we have less time, and we have to erect many buildings as soon as possible,' explained Singh, adding that textiles, which are lightweight and are largely prefabricated off-site, are often the obvious solution because of their low cost, flexibility, and ease of installation. And there's been a lot of development in the strength and durability of fabrics in recent decades, with carbon fiber-enhanced fabrics that 'are stronger than steel,' as well as 'high-performance textiles' that can provide added functionality to building facades, such as self-cleaning or energy harvesting, said Singh. But using handmade silk brocade is quite different from using synthetic polyesters, and there were many technical challenges to overcome for Takamatsu's pavilion. For example, the textile is 'weak against rain, typhoons, and wind,' so it had to be given a special coating and insulating layers to make it fire and climate-resistant, explained Takamatsu. The fabric was made by HOSOO, a company that's been weaving Nishijin brocade since 1688. Takamatsu approached Masataka Hosoo, the 46-year-old, 12th-generation president of the family business, about four years ago — who was eager to take on the 'unprecedented challenge' of transforming a heritage textile into an architectural structure. 'In fact, I had been nurturing the idea of architectural textiles for over a decade,' explained Hosoo. Nishijin brocade had been declining in demand for decades: in 2008, sales of the fabric had fallen by 80% from 1990. Hosoo saw the need to adapt his family business to modern consumers' needs. So in 2010, the company developed 'the world's first loom' capable of weaving Nishijin textile with a width of 150 centimeters (58 inches), nearly five times the typical width, according to Hosoo. 'Expanding this technique to a much wider format was a significant challenge, requiring extensive innovation and technical precision,' he added. The larger loom enabled the company to apply its fabric beyond kimonos, into products such as cars, camera accessories, and furniture, and has led to collaborations with luxury brands like Gucci and Four Seasons. When it came to weaving the brocade for the pavilion, the larger loom was essential — and even then, it still took a team of multiple artisans and engineers two years to produce the required volume of fabric. 'The shape itself isn't that difficult, but because it's a form that writhes like a dragon, each part has to be bent, and no piece is identical,' said Takamatsu. To help with this process, HOSOO developed proprietary 3D software that could map out the textile, aligning the pattern precisely across the complex curves of the building. 'The possibilities for textiles are limitless. We're excited to further explore how textiles can transform architecture and expand into entirely new domains,' said Hosoo. The Expo in Osaka will run for six months, through to October 13 — at which point, the future of the kimono fabric-covered pavilion is unknown. Historically, Expo pavilions are 'momentary' pieces of architecture that are often dismantled. Some architects lean into that, with eco-friendly construction materials that can be recycled or biodegrade quickly, or modular designs that are easy to disassemble and rebuild. On the other hand, some structures have become so iconic, they've outlived their intended six-month lifespan by decades: the Crystal Palace, which housed the inaugural World Expo in London in 1851, was relocated after the exhibition and remained standing for more than 80 years; and the 'Atomium,' the flagship structure of the 1958 expo in Brussels, Belgium, was so popular that the city decided to keep it, renovating the monument in 2006. In terms of engineering, 'creating architecture that only lasts six months is the same as creating one that lasts 100 years,' said Takamatsu. So while the future of the brocade-covered pavilion is uncertain, Takamatsu hopes it will be relocated to a permanent location, such as the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. Looking around the Expo site, Takamatsu is heartened by the varying responses to the event's theme, 'Designing Future Society for Our Lives.' Whether the buildings live on or not, the ideas behind them will — which Takamatsu hopes will inspire a generation of architects, just as they did him in 1970. 'It's not just one design, but rather, various designs resonating with each other, creating a future that sounds like a symphony. I believe this is the greatest message of this pavilion, as well as the many other pavilions at the Expo.' Additional reporting by Yumi Asada and Hazel Pfeifer, CNN.
CNN
16 hours ago
- Entertainment
- CNN
He drove a bulldozer at Asia's first World Expo. Now, he's one of the event's star architects
In 1970, when the World Fair came to Asia for the first time, Shin Takamatsu was just a student. The aspiring architect was studying at Japan's Kyoto University while supporting a wife and young child, but he desperately wanted to be involved. This was, after all, one of the foremost architectural showcases in the world: over its history, iconic landmarks including the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, and the Space Needle were first displayed at the event. So when he heard that the event's construction site in nearby Osaka needed bulldozer drivers, he jumped at the chance, quickly getting his license and taking up a lucrative part-time job that gave him a front-row seat to watch the expo come to life. 'It was an exhilarating feeling to be in the middle of a tremendous creative phase,' Takamatsu recalled. 'Many dazzling, futuristic buildings were being constructed. But as I watched them, I felt that something was missing.' As a student, he didn't know exactly what that was. But the experience stayed with him, and over the years, it shaped his approach to architecture. 'I came to realize that the future cannot be envisioned solely by looking forward. By looking toward the past and interpreting and understanding it, we can develop a perspective on the future,' he said. In his latest project, his architectural philosophy and personal story come full circle: at Expo 2025 Osaka, Takamatsu returns to the event as the architect behind one of its most striking buildings. The pavilion — run jointly by housing company Iida Group and Osaka Metropolitan University — is modeled after a Möbius strip, which 'continues endlessly in a single loop,' and reflects 'reincarnation or sustainability,' explained Takamatsu. The pavilion looks like a delicately wrapped gift box, covered in a vibrant red, cherry blossom-adorned Nishijin brocade — a traditional textile that has been woven in Kyoto for 1,500 years and is typically used for luxury goods, like kimonos and obis, a kind of belt sash. Over 3,500 square meters (37,600 square feet) — the equivalent area of more than eight basketball courts — of the handmade silk material covers the pavilion's exterior, setting a Guinness World Record for the largest building wrapped in Jacquard fabric — a material with the design woven directly into the textile — and another for the largest roof in the shape of a fan. For Takamatsu, the historic textile represented the perfect way to bridge the past and future. 'It is the culmination of techniques that have been continuously refined over those 1,500 years,' he said, adding that architecture like this 'cherishes history and traditions, while proposing a future based on them.' While the use of fabric in architecture is uncommon, textiles have been used in manmade structures for tens of thousands of years. Bedouin tents in the Middle East, Native American teepees, and yurts in the Steppes of Central Asia and Mongolia are all examples of nomadic, semi-permanent structures where fabric provides warmth and protection from the elements, while being lightweight and flexible enough to carry. But modern architects have been reluctant to use fabric in construction, said Sukhvir Singh, a design professor and textiles expert at Shree Guru Gobind Singh Tricentenary University, in India, which he attributes to a lack of familiarity with the materials and their technical properties. It wasn't until the 1960s that architects began experimenting with fabrics: German architect Frei Otto was one of the pioneers of lightweight architecture, and at Expo 1967, hosted in Montreal, his design for the German Pavilion used a tensile steel structure to support a lightweight polyester canopy, leading to its nickname, 'the floating tent.' Since then, textiles have been used frequently in temporary structures for major events, such as the Olympics or World Expos. 'During these mega gatherings, we have less time, and we have to erect many buildings as soon as possible,' explained Singh, adding that textiles, which are lightweight and are largely prefabricated off-site, are often the obvious solution because of their low cost, flexibility, and ease of installation. And there's been a lot of development in the strength and durability of fabrics in recent decades, with carbon fiber-enhanced fabrics that 'are stronger than steel,' as well as 'high-performance textiles' that can provide added functionality to building facades, such as self-cleaning or energy harvesting, said Singh. But using handmade silk brocade is quite different from using synthetic polyesters, and there were many technical challenges to overcome for Takamatsu's pavilion. For example, the textile is 'weak against rain, typhoons, and wind,' so it had to be given a special coating and insulating layers to make it fire and climate-resistant, explained Takamatsu. The fabric was made by HOSOO, a company that's been weaving Nishijin brocade since 1688. Takamatsu approached Masataka Hosoo, the 46-year-old, 12th-generation president of the family business, about four years ago — who was eager to take on the 'unprecedented challenge' of transforming a heritage textile into an architectural structure. 'In fact, I had been nurturing the idea of architectural textiles for over a decade,' explained Hosoo. Nishijin brocade had been declining in demand for decades: in 2008, sales of the fabric had fallen by 80% from 1990. Hosoo saw the need to adapt his family business to modern consumers' needs. So in 2010, the company developed 'the world's first loom' capable of weaving Nishijin textile with a width of 150 centimeters (58 inches), nearly five times the typical width, according to Hosoo. 'Expanding this technique to a much wider format was a significant challenge, requiring extensive innovation and technical precision,' he added. The larger loom enabled the company to apply its fabric beyond kimonos, into products such as cars, camera accessories, and furniture, and has led to collaborations with luxury brands like Gucci and Four Seasons. When it came to weaving the brocade for the pavilion, the larger loom was essential — and even then, it still took a team of multiple artisans and engineers two years to produce the required volume of fabric. 'The shape itself isn't that difficult, but because it's a form that writhes like a dragon, each part has to be bent, and no piece is identical,' said Takamatsu. To help with this process, HOSOO developed proprietary 3D software that could map out the textile, aligning the pattern precisely across the complex curves of the building. 'The possibilities for textiles are limitless. We're excited to further explore how textiles can transform architecture and expand into entirely new domains,' said Hosoo. The Expo in Osaka will run for six months, through to October 13 — at which point, the future of the kimono fabric-covered pavilion is unknown. Historically, Expo pavilions are 'momentary' pieces of architecture that are often dismantled. Some architects lean into that, with eco-friendly construction materials that can be recycled or biodegrade quickly, or modular designs that are easy to disassemble and rebuild. On the other hand, some structures have become so iconic, they've outlived their intended six-month lifespan by decades: the Crystal Palace, which housed the inaugural World Expo in London in 1851, was relocated after the exhibition and remained standing for more than 80 years; and the 'Atomium,' the flagship structure of the 1958 expo in Brussels, Belgium, was so popular that the city decided to keep it, renovating the monument in 2006. In terms of engineering, 'creating architecture that only lasts six months is the same as creating one that lasts 100 years,' said Takamatsu. So while the future of the brocade-covered pavilion is uncertain, Takamatsu hopes it will be relocated to a permanent location, such as the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. Looking around the Expo site, Takamatsu is heartened by the varying responses to the event's theme, 'Designing Future Society for Our Lives.' Whether the buildings live on or not, the ideas behind them will — which Takamatsu hopes will inspire a generation of architects, just as they did him in 1970. 'It's not just one design, but rather, various designs resonating with each other, creating a future that sounds like a symphony. I believe this is the greatest message of this pavilion, as well as the many other pavilions at the Expo.' Additional reporting by Yumi Asada and Hazel Pfeifer, CNN.
Daily Mail
3 days ago
- General
- Daily Mail
Architect reveals five things she would never put in a small bathroom
An Australian architect has revealed the five things she would never put in a small bathroom. Georgina Wilson (pictured right) said to never have inward opening doors, put the toilet in the path of entry and even include both a bath and a shower in a small bathroom. The Sydney architect also advised against installing toilet brush holders into the wall and putting in under-floor heating. Her hot takes divided hundreds in the comments as many agreed however others said they loved their baths and showers as well as floor heating. Georgina's first design no-no was inward opening doors saying: 'It's much more space efficient to either use a pocket sliding door or an outward opening door.' Secondly, she said never include both a bath and a shower as having just a 'generous' shower keeps the room looking more 'open and spacious.' 'Never install heated flooring. There is just not enough dry floor space in a small bathroom to make it worth your while,' Georgina added. The architect also said not to place the toilet in direct view of the entry. 'Set up the vanity or a window as a main view upon entering the bathroom,' she said. Finally, Georgina would never fix to toilet brush directly to the wall. 'You'll undoubtedly want to throw it in the bin at some stage. The built in holders are overly fussy and committed,' she said. 'Do you really want unnecessary holes in your carefully waterproofed beautifully tiled walls?' Georgina shared her five bathroom faux pas in a TikTok video that amassed more than 811,600 views and hundreds of comments. 'Regardless of plumbing fixtures. I keep toilet brush out of sight. Not sure why anyone would want it out at all times,' one viewer said. 'As a bathtub lover this explains all the renovations with large showers and no tubs,' a second wrote. 'Unnecessary holes in tiles are always a regret for sure,' a third added. One woman said she had never seen a bathroom with an outward opening door and some pointed out it's required by law in some countries to have a door that swings out from the bathroom. 'It's actually safer and less space consuming. In Poland is obligated by law to make outward opening door in every bathroom,' one replied. Many disagreed with some of Georgina's points especially on not having heated floor or a bath and a shower. 'My bathrooms have heated floors and they are the beat feature of my house,' one woman said and another agreed: 'My tiny, tiny poor-person bathroom has a heated floor and it was the best $300 I ever spent.' 'Parents of young children would disagree about the bath tub,' a mum chimed in. Read the full story:
Forbes
22-05-2025
- Business
- Forbes
How The Power Of Narrative Can Shape Your Heirloom Home
One of the greatest benefits of designing and building a home in partnership with a thoughtful, client-focused architect is the way the dwelling can be tailored exactly to its intended occupants' needs and desires. And you'd think that communicating those needs and desires would be a straightforward process: just a matter of specifying the number of bedrooms and baths, requesting, say, a farmhouse look, and asking for a detached meditation and yoga studio to be added in the backyard. Drawing inspiration from the simple vernacular architecture found in the mountains of the Northeast, this home's three gabled pavilions are linked by low, flat-roofed connectors. The design frames long views to the distant mountains while also engaging the dense woodlands to the south, and a muted exterior material palette allows the structure to nestle quietly into its natural setting. The reality, however, isn't so simple. Who, for example, are those bedrooms for, and when will they be used? If you are the kind of person who is energized by mornings, you won't want your bedroom suite to be located on the north or west sides of a house, which get no sun at that time of day. Instead, you'll want those rooms oriented toward the east or southeast, to take maximum advantage of the early light, and you may wish to include an outdoor terrace or sitting porch for lingering over breakfast or coffee. Also, does the term 'farmhouse' have the same meaning for both architect and client? One of you might be thinking of white-painted shiplap walls while the other is visualizing dark, rough-hewn timbers and brick in their mind's eye. And so on. In our practice at Hutker Architects, we've come to understand that uncovering the fuller, more detailed stories that lie behind client requests, as well as appreciating the other sorts of narratives that a dwelling will become part of—many of which extend beyond the purely personal to take in the surrounding landscape and community—is key to the design of a truly responsive, appropriate, and one-of-a-kind custom home. My partners and I learned long ago how useful stories can be when trying to discover what really matters to a homeowner. One of the firm's early clients was a well-known children's book author. Instead of simply listing the physical amenities she had in mind for a new house on Martha's Vineyard, she envisioned how she wanted to live in the house and on the grounds, describing the events of an imagined weekend spent entertaining houseguests. Her depiction made clear what types of spaces would be required, as well as—crucially—how they should function and feel. The 'life room' in this coastal home—created in collaboration with interior designer Heather Wells—checks off several boxes from the homeowners' wish list: they wanted space for large family and social gatherings, opportunities to display works from their art collection, and a close connection to the water outside. As a result, we almost always ask our clients to write out a 'diary' of what they'd consider to be an ideal day in their projected new home. What do they see themselves doing, in what kind of environment, at what time, and with whom? How many people and what kinds of gatherings should the home accommodate? Interpreting those dreamed-up scenarios helps us understand in a much deeper way how to design spaces that will support every aspect of a family's life. After all, home is not just a place where you eat, bathe, and sleep. To employ some of the words we've collected from decades' worth of client journals, home is where you 'study,' 'pray,' 'exercise,' 'garden,' 'cook,' 'play,' 'love,' 'reflect,' 'recuperate,' 'work,' 'aspire,' and more—in short, a place that should bring joy and add meaning to every day. The terrain a house stands on has an equally important tale to tell. For a home I designed on Cape Cod, the influence of the site on the architecture played out in more than one dimension. First, and most obviously, the house is shaped by its lot's topography, transitioning between a low, sheltered front that faces an inland meadow and a loftier, glass-filled rear that opens to a wooded slope running down to the shore of a bay. But, before design even began, the owners and I also spent part of an afternoon walking the land, collecting materials that caught our eye: tree bark, stones, dried leaves, scrap metal, and a few chunks of blackened timbers that remained from an earlier house that had burned down. The day's finds inspired the palette of colors and materials we ended up employing for the new residence that soon rose on the property, including the choice of charred Japanese shou sugi ban cladding for parts of the structure. Elements drawn from the home's location became intrinsic parts of its essence. Our goal is to develop a deep sense of authenticity in the materiality and details of a home, as well as in its basic layout, integrating it with the natural environment it occupies. A family residence on Cape Cod incorporates colors and textures inspired by materials found on its site. We recognize the critical role that architecture plays in shaping the fabric of communities, so we go beyond merely conforming with local building restrictions to engage proactively with the social, cultural, and historical heritage of every locality. Another partner at Hutker Architects, Phil Regan, worked not long ago on a new home in the town of Aquinnah on Martha's Vineyard. The lot where the house would stand was on a hillside that overlooked Aquinnah Circle, which is not only a major scenic tourist destination but also a sacred site for the island's native Wampanoag people. Building successfully in those circumstances required cultivating close ties with community organizations and maintaining a keen awareness of how the house would be seen from such a sensitive public place. Rooflines were kept low and rounded, the walls were covered in an engineered wood that has a muted, weathered-looking finish, and Regan even shifted the angle of the house by a few degrees so that its windows wouldn't reflect a harsh solar glare in the evening. The resulting design delights its owners and at the same time blends in with the contours and colors of the hilly terrain, making the house a well-mannered presence in its prominent location. This low-slung home on Martha's Vineyard makes a definite style statement while melding beautifully with the encircling landscape. Whether a house is set beside a salt marsh, perched on a suburban hillside, or nestled into a clearing in the woods, there will always be local human contexts to draw on. It's important to fashion dwellings that foster a sense interaction and belonging with their region, town, or neighborhood. We've never been a firm that turns out one signature 'look' for all purposes. We believe the aesthetics of a residence should be keyed to the narratives of its surroundings. Our designs respond thoughtfully to their context—whether it's the classic Shingle style of homes in a coastal town, the rugged charm of mountain homes, or the vernacular forms of rural barns and outbuildings—while reflecting the needs and aspirations of contemporary living. Calm, neutral colors, along with the organic notes imparted by a stone floor, ceiling beams, and basketlike light fixtures, designed in collaboration with Jean Verbridge of SV Design, allow a modern interior to feel at home on a secluded rural property. 'Style,' in our philosophy, becomes a matter of integrating a client's visual preferences and way of life with ties to the natural and built environments. The stories that a successful house embodies, at all levels, will support one another and evoke a sense of emotional connection, we hope, for inhabitants both today and in years to come. Kyle Hoepner contributed to this article
