More by A Brit named Lee Edwards...


More by A Brit named Lee Edwards...


I am struck by how great this is: In-City slaughterhouses in NYC. Now how's that for farm-to-table? One looks dinner right in the eye - before dinner. Obviously common practice in other countries, but why not as much in the US? What are the urban ramifications of this use of space? Could we improve upon it, in order for it to become more common with red blooded Americana? Could 21st Century butcher shops include live pens where diners can literally pick their dinner for the night?
Lately I've been struggling with the receiving end of the process of architecture. Essentially, who are the parties that stand to benefit from the endeavors of practice. What I see in my built environment and on the blogs/internet has left me with a feeling that architecture is a rich man's game. More and more private development, more and more lifestyle branding. Give an architect a week and a couple of under-payed interns and they will be able to dream up new forms rationalized by nothing more than "I think I can, therefore I will." The process is compounded over and over and over.


This project at the University of Twente in the Netherlands by Arons en Gelauff Architecten is an interesting combination of student housing, social center, and sport venue. It is long established that dutch architects have a wonderful sense of place and density in public - private partnerships , but this is an added bonus. A program normally specified for the inside of a limited use building (climbing gym) becomes a density measure that adds value to a project by placing a use onto a surface that would otherwise be nothing more than enclosure, i.e. exterior cladding. The project reminds me to question uses for roofs, walls, and sidewalks. In New York, for example, there are times when I am delighted to see basketball courts on top of small school buildings, yet I am always suggesting that I want to see more. Case in Point.
I am looking forward to seeing the new film, FOOD INC, a documentary on the multi-national companies running the factories that produce the food sold in 95% American grocers. The talking points:
As a perfect example of a DIY, fluid, resource efficient undertaking, Debra Solomon, an artist based in Amsterdam, draws closer to perfecting the craft of public food vending. She takes food that is close to the end of it's shelf life, remixes it, and injects into an ambitious new, colorful spread. The food is obviously the star of the show in this situation, but the re-purposed vehicle and insta-community it creates would make Peter Cook proud. While helping to revitalize a neighborhood on the outskirts of Rotterdam, it has become part of a large initiative with the help of other architects and designers. Adapt. Reuse. Inject.