turrets syndrome

Let's take a look at Dubai, the city that today boasts several of the the world's tallest skyscrapers (including number one) and is home to the largest, most expensive hotel on Earth, as it was in 1991:



And as it is now:



I've begun to notice that criticism of the megacity's sudden development tends to glaze the topic in an apocalyptic or even vaguely propagandist light, as if there is something implicitly terrifying or even morally wrong about a (completely unsustainable) metropolis springing up (over a weekend, literally built on sand). Ok, there is something scary about it, but what, exactly, is it that frightens us? I think it's common that we look at Dubai's skyline and the buildings proposed to be added to it and feel a reeling sensation. What do we feel? Too much too young. Icarus! Too big for their britches. They're going to fall down! Etc.

Ask any American (and most Brits) and they'll eventually verbalize the elephant in the room: that the tallest of the skyscrapers are a clear invitation to devastating terrorist attack. Britain's Foreign and Commonwealth Office has officially warned citizens that travel to the UAE puts one at high risk for being involved in a terrorist act. Is an architectural climate of fear brewing, emanating from the tacit, shared feeling that rapid development is an boon to terror activity? If we put ecological issues aside, is there anything implicitly dangerous about rapid development? Are tall, ambitious buildings "asking for it?"

Also: is the fear-mongering regionalist or even racist (i.e. "I can't believe they're building those buildings OVER THERE")? If the fear is based solely on the fact that the UAE is situated in the Persian Gulf, is it justified or not?

Whether you believe the highrises are headed for a crash or not, you should look at these vertigo-inducing photos of Dubai from The Boston Globe here and check out this photo taken from above the clouds, atop the Burj.

Kengo Kuma: "Architecture is like sushi."

Recovering postmodernist Kengo Kuma railed against mass production, industrialization and Frank Gehry while speaking at the Royal Academy of Arts this July, stating that contemporary architecture would do well to take a cue from Japanese cuisine: "Sushi is a good metaphor for my architecture. The importance in sushi is to choose the best material from the place, in season. If the journey of the ingredients is too long, the taste of the sushi is compromised. That is a problem that can't be solved by modern technology, and that programme of using local material in season is the secret of good taste, and the secret of my style."

This praise of the natural and inhabitable structure is pretty rich talk coming from the man who once designed this (one can't get much more divorced from day-to-day life than a building shaped like a massive Doric column, can one?), though Kuma's newfound devotion to organic inspiration is clearly apparent in the similarities between his inflatable teahouse (pictured above) and an ika roll.

Full article from The Architects' Journal here.