“I call my work a ‘parallel practice’ … You can’t have a linear practice,” says architect Toshiko Mori about her over 30 years of work in the architectural profession. The breadth of Mori’s work can be categorized by this idea of a ‘parallel practice,’ one that rigorously observes the pluralities, the contradictions and the complexities that are inherently enmeshed within the practice.
Mori’s expansive knowledge of architectural history, technologies and materials, both new and old, is almost encyclopedic. She expresses both a deep respect for innovators before her — particularly the modernists, such as Frank Lloyd Wright, Marcel Breuer and Paul Rudolph, all of whom designed buildings that Mori has produced contemporary additions for — while also maintaining an elastic curiosity for new methods and modes of thinking.
© Paul Warchol Photography
Toshiko Mori Architect’s Visitor Center for Frank Lloyd Wright’s Darwin D. Martin House, Buffalo, N.Y.
Mori insists that architecture go “beyond … demand-based production,” that it examine its broader context and its deeper intentions simultaneously. Her work in founding the architecture-research think tank Vision Arc as well as her curation of several exhibitions examining innovation in textile design, her long tenure as an architecture professor at the GSD and prior to that appointment at the Cooper Union demonstrate a dedication to research, to a self-reflexive examination and a belief that one is never too successful to stop learning.
© Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum
© Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum
Top: installation view from the “Extreme Textiles” exhibition at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, New York, N.Y.; bottom: installation view from “Designs for Life: Work of Josef and Anni Albers” at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, New York, N.Y.
Toshiko Mori’s most recent award-winning project — the THREAD Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center in Sinthian, Senegal — is emblematic of this tendency to weave her experience with ideas found through the context of the site. From using parametrics to expand the structural possibilities of the vernacular African hut to installing rain-catching cisterns to assure water storage for survival during the dry season, this project produced numerous successful outcomes — some expected, some surprising — that have had an impact way beyond the boundaries of the building.
© Toshiko Mori Architect
THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal
Architizer recently spoke with Toshiko Mori, discussing material innovation, inspiration from modern masters, common-sense sustainability and the future of architecture and academia. Here’s what the pioneering Japanese architect had to say.
Joanna Kloppenburg: You have a very diverse knowledge of industrial materials, but also on a smaller scale, you’re interested in crafts and textiles. Where did that specialism grow for you?
Toshiko Mori: Because I’m an academic who is always interested in material research. I’ve been teaching at Harvard GSD for 21 years, and before that I was at Cooper Union for nearly 12 years. Also, as an architect I’m interested in materiality, material fabrication and performance, so that performance of materials can expand into sustainability, issues of how buildings perform and then operational performance, how it’s going to be used programmatically, and then maintenance of buildings.
It has a broad range, but there’s definitely a clear, theoretical platform I set out in order to do different research. I’m always interested in the use of traditional materials, how you can make traditional or vernacular or even ancient materials and techniques apply to contemporary practice. Also, I am interested in ways to use newly invented materials as well as the exploration of new uses for old materials. There’s a lot of range to this topic.
© Paul Warchol Photography
Addition to Marcel Breuer’s home; House in Connecticut II, New Canaan, Conn.
Much of your early work was producing additions to the work of some modernist masters. How did this experience influence your preoccupation with material innovation?
The modern masters have always been innovating. Frank Lloyd Wright made cantilevered toilets so the toilet can be more sanitary. In the Darwin Martin house, he painted the joints of brick gold so that it reflects the light and the bricks float in the shadow, so at night you see a gold sparkle in the mortar joints. He brought functionality and aesthetics together.
“That’s before we invented the word ‘sustainability.’ For them it was common sense.”
Paul Rudolph was always inventing. For example, he’s one of the people who used a membrane for waterproofing the roofs of his early houses because of his experience in the Navy where they mothballed boats with membrane for storage.
Breuer was also very environmentally conscious. All of them had been invested in looking at fairly ordinary materials like brick and concrete blocks, making more inventive use of them in a humble manner. Like Wright, Rudolph inserted glass in some of the concrete block joints to let the light in and also create the illusion of floating blocks. In his Florida houses, Rudolph was definitely interested in providing natural ventilation and shading in order for them to fit into a tropical climate. All of the modern masters were quite invested in the relationship between building and context. That’s before we invented the word ‘sustainability.’ For them it was a common sense.
A guest house for a home designed by Paul Rudolph; House on the Gulf of Mexico I, Casey Key, Fla.
Is that where your interest in sustainability generated from?
“ … it’s ridiculous to just isolate sustainability as some kind of virtue … ”
Yes, in short, it’s basically a common sense. I think it’s ridiculous to just isolate sustainability as some kind of virtue, because the idea is that everything has to work in balance with the natural environment and economize the resources of energy, water, etc. The long answer to your question is that, yes, in my research, instead of considering our tradition from modernism as a disruption, by introducing sustainability as a new idea there’s a continuity of a modernist ethos. It’s always existed in the background. It may not come immediately to the surface as something visible, but the philosophy — the thinking process of how to engage technology in a modern lifestyle — it all comes together. I think my research in materiality is based on such a continuation of that tradition.
House on the Gulf of Mexico I, Casey Key, Fla.
Do you think your involvement with Vision Arc has helped you expand your research? Has having this kind of collaborative think tank allowed you to look for more ways in which that understanding can be more pervasive within the industry?
“In traditional architectural practice, we assume we know what we are doing. But, research-based practice provokes a question: ‘Why?’”
Yes, I think so. In traditional architectural practice, we assume we know what we are doing. But, research-based practice provokes a question: “Why?” Why are we doing it? What is the reason? What’s the bigger answer? In a sense it gives a larger framework to what we do beyond the immediate delivery of a building. How do we situate ourselves in a world of practice, and then what’s the impact of that in terms of the meaning of what we do?
We are always producing demand-based design. Is there an alternative way of tweaking this particular demand-based design production into something which has more impact? The short answer is, I think, when we pause to think about our practice, it may offer a more ethical basis to the practice, and there’s a new logic that can be created to allow us to articulate why we do and how we do it.
© Paul Warchol Photography
House in Connecticut II, New Canaan, Conn.
It seems there is a growing sentiment in the architectural community to look toward more ethical practices, to break down the boundaries of the conventional practice and look to more researched-based methods. Is that something you are observing?
There are three completely different answers to this question. The consciousness to promote ethical practice is there, and yes I do observe it. But it is not the sole purpose of research-based methods being deployed more frequently in practice. And breaking down the boundaries of conventional practice has other benefits, and it can be accomplished more effectively by collaborative platform.
In our practice, we often use permutations to test and simulate different ideas, and that is a start of a research. One can add content to these permutations to form a basis of productive evaluation process. And on top of that, we can enter the question of context and content to assess the value, ethics and quality impact of projects. Of course quantifiable questions such as resource use and life cycle management become a part of it, as well. Our contemporary practice requires an architect to look more holistically to the total and broader influence and meaning of architecture at the world at large.
© Toshiko Mori Architect
Center of Excellence, Syracuse University, Syracuse, N.Y.
How do you marry those two concerns within your practice while also still being sensitive to the aesthetic sensibilities that you wish to communicate?
In a sense I call it ‘parallel practice,’ because you can’t have a linear practice. You can’t just come up with a building design or, first, only think of energy consumption. You can’t just have a sequential and linear way of working, so if one strategy deploys more productive practices, which operate in parallel with one another, you can actually do everything simultaneously.
You’re working on the idea of a concept, maybe aesthetics, orientation, materiality, performance and usage all at the same time, going back and forth like weaving. Some of the strands of constraints are contradictory, but negotiating these contested areas is the way one should be working. I think it’s the only way one can deal with complexity because otherwise you just lay one problem over the other instead of connecting issues.
© Paul Warchol Photography
Visitor Center for Darwin D. Martin House, Buffalo, N.Y.
I’m curious about what your approach for the Thread Artist Residency was, because it appears, from a stylistic standpoint, to be a departure from your other work. Your design seems very sensitive to the vernacular tradition of the site.
It is stylistically different because we really looked hard at the vernacular of [the] African hut, which is a cylindrical structure made out of mud brick and [a] circular roof using thatch and bamboo. This particular location is very remote and very poor, and also it’s very difficult to transport any materials. By the time you transport material it becomes outrageously expensive.
“In a sense it was Anni Albers’ ideas [of] using different type[s] of materials, weaving them together to make stronger textiles.”
We also have to work with local craftspeople in two ways. One is to give jobs to the community, then the second is to train people so they can maintain it. For that reason, we really looked at the vernacular very closely, and then we tweaked it a bit to see how we could make that hut larger. How do you make that larger using more complex curvature to make it stronger? We have digitally simulated that parametrically as a woven roof structure.
It is for the Josef and Anni Albers foundation, and Anni Albers is a textile designer. She has written about architecture and textiles. In a sense it was Anni Albers’ ideas [of] using different type[s] of materials, weaving them together to make stronger textiles. Conceptually, it was inspired by her ideas. Aesthetically, it’s really African vernacular and uses the bamboo and thatch grass, which grows locally, and mud brick made from the site.
© Toshiko Mori Architect
THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal
You mentioned your concern about the maintenance of the building, about what will happen after you leave. What is the process of thinking about maintenance for this kind of building?
“ … our roof is shaped parametrically to collect [the] maximum amount of water … ”
The Josef and Anni Albers foundation appointed two full-time directors, one local and one American. They invite international artists in residence as well as local artists. Also, because our roof is shaped parametrically to collect [the] maximum amount of water and there are two cisterns, a women’s collaborative was formed using cisterns to grow vegetables.
They recently harvested eggplants and okra that are financially viable; they learned effective farming methods. A local nun came and taught them how to make bars of soap, and they sold them. With that money, they were able to start growing peanuts. A micro economy started, and they also recently received a $30K grant from the Senegalese government to start rice farming.
Women collecting water from the cistern at THREAD; the cover was donated by Taiyo Kogyo, Japan, and blocks 90 percent of solar heat from the cistern; image courtesy of American Friends of Le Korsa; THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal
Was that your original plan, or did they take advantage of the way that the rain was collected?
There is a woman’s agricultural collective in another village, so they were looking at that model. Also, this water is for daily use. They could filter it for drinking or for laundry and for gardening and animals, things like that. It’s very close to the village so they can come with a bucket and collect the water.
Within this dry region of Senegal, the aquifers have been drying up, therefore the wells and main sources of water are becoming more remote every year. Women and girls are tasked to collect water from remote sources. Often girls don’t go to school because they have to do those chores. The idea is to help reduce such a burden placed on women and girls in the community. When they realized the water is so close they thought, “Why don’t we start the vegetable garden here?” We did propose it, but we didn’t know they would want to do it so soon.
Women collecting water from the cistern at THREAD; the cover was donated by Taiyo Kogyo, Japan, and blocks 90 percent of solar heat from the cistern; image courtesy of American Friends of Le Korsa;THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal
You’ve been working in academia for years. How have you been able to translate what you’ve learned through your practice back to the educating of architects?
I think bringing practice back to school is a very interesting issue because it used to be that theory and practice were diametrically opposed. Now the relationship can start to inform each other, yet contradictions can still exist.
“With digital technology we’re getting information updates so much faster, and academia cannot be isolated from that phenomena.”
There’s much more effort on merging theoretical knowledge and practice. The reason is two-fold. One is how fast information is moving in our world, and knowledge is spreading. With digital technology, we’re getting information updates so much faster, and academia cannot be isolated from that phenomena. It’s constantly being challenged by the validity of a pedagogical method in contemporary practice.
Secondly, it’s the increased complexity in what we do as architects. There’s a broader complexity in terms of understanding global culture, working with different types of people and communities. Then instability of politics in fragile areas, and climate change affecting the environment. All that is very complex. We see that in practice, and then academia has to reflect on that condition, too, if you want to train and educate people they cannot be in a vacuum and sending students in a world they think is all beautiful and everything [is] perfect. No — it’s completely broken, it’s contradictory, contentious and imperfect — so how do we train young architects, young people, to prepare them for this really strange, shifting world we live today?
© Toshiko Mori Architect
THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal
I think there’s a more symbiotic and mutual relationship in practice and teaching going on today compared to previous generation. If you really think of it, lots of interesting people who are theoretical architects are probably some of the biggest practitioners of our time, Zaha, Rem Koolhaas, DS+R. It’s really amazing how that changed.
In a way, they predicted the world we live today, and they have formulated their own practice based on their viewpoint. That’s a very, very different mode from how [a firm like] SOM or KPF established themselves. We are making a tradition of a different time. If that’s our new tradition, in reflection, practice may be transforming the direction of theory, and they are more closely intertwined and interdependent.
© Toshiko Mori Architect
Toshiko Mori; THREAD: Artists’ Residency and Cultural Center, Sinthian, Senegal