Poor Sad Christchurch

I've got Christchurch on my mind. We made a brief visit to the city in January. And I am thinking about it once again as I pen a short piece about Shigeru Ban's upcoming paper tube church, due to rise up from the rubble in three months time. As of December, the entire central business district (CBD) was still closed off and declared red zone. It is the equivalent of the Loop and North Michigan Avenue having been sucked out of Chicago, my point of reference for most things urban. Unfathomable. In between the hoardings and fences, one can peer inside --the once thriving commercial area now looks like a ghost town. There is still debris in situ, broken glass scattered about and buildings in various states of destruction. It looked like the EQ was just last week. Had this been Japan, I am fairly certain that things would have been tidier, if not cleaned up entirely. Evidently, even buildings that look relatively unscathed have a date with the wrecking ball due to unseen, but very hazardous, structural damage.



True, a make-shift shopping area compiled of shipping containers has sprouted just outside the CBD. On the one hand, this seems like an ingenious way to attract people back into the center of town. Though we saw lots of pedestrians milling about, the stores were understocked and kind of tawdry. We tried to find something to buy out of solidarity but it was a struggle.


I was particularly struck by the many 19th century churches outside the CBD. While awaiting repair, their steeples sit on the ground, alongside the main edifices. We witnessed this again and again. Hopefully they can all be resurrected. But bringing these historic structures up to code will be a challenge and a great expense no doubt.











































The gate at the Jewish Community Center, itself in total disarray, was hauntingly off kilter. We were very relieved to learn that money is being raised for the center's rebuilding. In the meantime, weekly services take place in a member's home.

Shigeru Ban's Partitions

Shigeru Ban is a remarkable architect. A very accomplished designer, he has authored the so-called Swatch Building in Tokyo, the Pompidou Center in Metz and the soon-to-finish Metal Shutter Building in New York. However, when disaster strikes, Ban drops everything and heads to the site to see how he can help. Championing the overlooked and the under served, Ban always ferrets out groups of people whose needs are not being met by government initiatives.



After the earthquake and tsunami toppled a good portion of Tohoku, Ban made a beeline for the blighted area and immediately assessed how he could help. Quick to spring into action, he turned his attention to the needs of displaced persons bedding down in gymnasia and other large rooms throughout the region. Though they had shelter and food, there was a palpable dearth of privacy. To ease this problem, Ban resurrected a scheme for partitions made of paper tubes that started out as a project with his students a couple years ago.





Earlier this week, I had the chance to see his paper tube partitions on display at the Interiors and Lifestyle Fair at Tokyo Big Sight. A simple assembly of tubes and tape, each unit is able to encircle an individual space with cloth curtains that provide a modicum of privacy. Ban told me recently that he is about to trot out a summer version made of mosquito netting.
Here is the link to my article about Ban's partitions published by Architectural Record in April: http://archrecord.construction.com/news/2011/04/110421-Ban-Offers-Japan-Aid.asp

The Top and Bottom of the Swatch Building

I recently re-visited the Nicolas G. Hayek Center (aka the Swatch Building) in Ginza. Created by that Japanese architectural wizard, Shigeru Ban, it is a fantastic solution to the nearly impossible problem of showcasing seven of the company's best-selling brands on a prominent but narrow parcel amid Ginza, Tokyo's high end shopping district. Ban's competition-winning building begins with a four-story void connecting the streets at the front and back of the property. It is also the staging area for seven elevators, each one a tiny, satellite showroom leading directly to the brand's boutique above or below grade. If you would like to read more about the building, here is the link to the piece I wrote for Architectural Record shortly after the building's completion (http://archrecord.construction.com/projects/portfolio/archives/0805nicolas-1.asp).









The top of the building is crowned with a grand party room overlooking the city. A precursor to Ban's unique building for The Centre Pompidou Metz that opened earlier this year, the room is covered with a wavy roof supported by woven steel strips that morph into organic, tree-shaped, see-through columns doubling as conduits for drain pipes etc.







Accessed via stairs or an elevator cab lined with bands of the colorful clocks all buckled together, the Swatch shop anchors the bottom of the building. The basement-level boutique was not designed by Ban but by Swatch's worldwide space planner. Sorry Swatch people, this was a missed opportunity. Just think what Ban could have and would have done.