open form : now open

We were playing the Warsaw Game, a strategic ‘Open Form’ game based on the improvisation and adaptation to changing conditions, led by Professor Svein Hatløy (1940–2015), the founder of the Bergen School of Architecture, and Chi Ti-Nan, the author of the Micro-Urbanism concept* and the initiator of the Urban Flashes workshops. At the Urban Flashes in London (2002), Svein made us collect recycled building materials into a shopping cart and use them in a way that they would ‘dominate’ and ‘communicate’. Chi was very impressed by the deep philosophy behind this – it was the first time that his Taoist mind encountered Open Form. After London, Chi begun to teach in Bergen, and Svein – to spend time in China.

Third Generation City, M. Casagrande 

Originally formulated in 1959 by visionary architect, theorist and artist Oskar Hansen and developed further by Svein Hatløy, the concept of Open Form is based on unauthored individual and collective actions that have a potential to generate further reactions. Within this approach, the role of the architect shifts towards directing constructive communication. Open Form is a monument to no one, and the processes it goes by are rather biological. 

Svein got me a teaching appointment at the Bergen School of Architecture, where I sought for a deeper understanding of Open Form. Step by step, this led me towards the concept of Urban Acupuncture, which owes as much to Svein as to Chi’s Micro-Urbanism. Today, looking back to the architectural installations we made in different cities with Sami Rintala, I can see that Urban Acupuncture was already present there. Those installations acted as the acupuncture needles that tapped into the collective conscience of the local communities and tried to communicate with the site-specific knowledge. Our architectural expression was Open Form in the sense that it did not rely on any specific discipline – not even architecture – but glided freely between various fields of art and science. 

“First one has to have something to say, and then find the ways how to say it,” said Mauno Koivisto, the President of Finland in 1982–94. “To be present is key to all art,” said Reijo Kela, the legendary dancer and choreographer who had burned our Land(e)scape back in 1999. “Real Reality is something that is total; something that cannot be speculated,” said Jaakko Hämeen-Anttila, the Professor of the Arabic Language and Islamic Studies at the Universities of Edinburg and Helsinki. He continued: “The valueless void of today’s society will be filled with ethics; the corners are windy.” We craved to feel this wind and to break in more corners. Usually design represents a closed form; it relies on the control methodologies that stifle the Local Knowledge. Design should not replace reality. Reality is normal. We chose to believe in the supernormal, and in the works that laughed at their ‘designers’. 

I ended up in Taiwan by accident, although Svein declared: “We sent Marco to Asia.” What really happened were two seemingly independent events at the Venice Biennale of Architecture in 2000: Chi visiting our ‘60 Minute Man’ boat and me picking up from the ground his flyer that advertised the Taiwanese pavilion. Then we got in touch with each other, and Chi invited me to my first Urban Flashes in Taipei. Prior to Taipei, Sami and I had worked on a few projects in Japan, but in Taiwan the Open Form really got me. The final hit was my work in, with and for the Treasure Hill, where everything Svein had been teaching became a reality, because the Treasure Hill was the Open Form fighting against the official city. Without Open Form, I would have never been able to deal with it. Without Open Form, there would have been no Urban Acupuncture for me, and no teaching at the Tamkang University, where the students started playing the Warsaw Game soon after I became their ‘professor of accident’. In a sense, Svein was right: he did send me to Taiwan.

Urban Acupuncture, Hiroki Oya / Casagrande Laboratory

In Tamkang, I was given full support in taking further the Urban Acupuncture thinking to study the essense of ruins and eventually arrive at the Third Generation City. Later on, the Sustainable Global Technologies research centre (SGT) in the Aalto University gave me a free hand in practicing multi-disciplinary design, which, again, was close to Open Form. More disciplines were stepping in: river engineering, futures studies, cultural studies, landscape architecture, civil engineering, sociology, horticulture, and anthropology. In 2010, we were able to set up our own independent research center, the Ruin Academy in Taipei. Totally multi-disciplinary and based on Open Form, this platform for academic squatting involved the Aalto SGT, the Tamkang University, and the National Taiwan University, especially its sociology department. In the meantime, in Artena, Italy, a cross-disciplinary network of university professors founded the International Society of Biourbanism that has also established a strong connection with the Ruin Academy. Through this link, Open Form started to gain some more scientific roots. The biourbanists are as much mathematicians as they are biologists. 

Open Form knows no designer. The architect is not an author, but rather a communicator, or a human intelligence officer. Most of the existing architecture is ‘closed form’, a structural manifestation of human control and authority, while nature is Open Form, and therefore the task of architecture should be mediating between the human nature and the big voice of Nature. Urban Acupuncture strives to penetrate through thin industrial layers of asphalt and concrete in order to connect with the original soil. The resulting cracks in the city fabric provide the breeding ground for the Local Knowledge and Open Form (which are essentially one and the same thing). The Third Generation City is the city of cracks.

Phimenes Sp., M.Casagrande & F. Chen / Casagrande Laboratory

Architecture is an environmental art. It belongs not to architects, but to nature; it belongs to our senses, and not to our control. What is not sensitive, is not alive – it’s death’s companion. 

When I was a student at the Helsinki University of Technology (now the Aalto University), Professor Juhani Pallasmaa, Head of the Architecture Department in 1992–97, made us watch Andrei Tarkovsky’s films. Stalker – directed by Tarkovsky and based on the ‘Roadside Picnic’ novel by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky – is about the Open Form as it is about life: you either survive your way through the Zone, or you don’t. It’s always the same forest, but the way is never the same. The way is the domain of the accident, yet Open Form is not a mystery. It is about constructing and deconstructing the elements that can maximise the opportunities for life to thrive. These life-providing elements – be it a house, a place, a community, or a city – are parts of nature, and, as such, they follow biological principles.

Existense Maximum, M. Casagrande

Existense Maximum is the given rule of nature. To enable maximum life in site- specific conditions, human control should be loosened up in order for nature to step in. Nature, life and human are one and the same, but human control is something different; it is the source of pollution and prostitution. Architects are not obliged to be design prostitutes, and architecture should not necessarily be a manifestation of human control. And if not, then the house must be ruined. 

Ring the bells that still can ring 

Forget your perfect offering 

There is a crack in everything 

That’s how the light gets in. 

- Leonard Cohen, Anthem 

A ruin is when the man-made becomes part of nature. Open Form seeks to produce ruins – houses, communities and cities that are broken open by human error to turn into platforms of cracks. These cracks are not slums; they are not the smelly parts of the city – they are the apertures through which light comes in. The modern man is an anti-life form in the universe of cracks. A house is not a box, and the man should not stay inside. The architecture provides necessary shelter, an Open Form for the man to have a rest and contemplate. It gives us comfort. But this is not all there is. The house is where the light comes in. The city is the biology itself. It is a biourban galaxy of lights, a star system of cracks. 

* In his Micro-Urbanism theory, Taiwanese architect Chi Ti-Nan proposes an alternative to conventional ‘macro-urban’ design and planning practices with their “efforts to invent or resurrect dominant forms, to demonstrate heroic rectifications, to reinforce the regulations, [or] to freeze the historical areas.” Instead, he encourages the architects to investigate the way things interact and coordinate in the city’s everyday life; to explore the seemingly insignificant sides of contemporary cities; the unique microcosms that develop in response to “both natural environment and existing urban conditions,” and to take cues from the “immediate solutions and consequential behaviours mobilised by people in order to manage limited resources and adapt to the man-made environment.” Referring to the principles of Eastern medicine like ayurveda or acupuncture, Chi speaks about “a meridian system of interrelated energy zones within the preconceived macro-structure of the city” and emphasises the importance of identifying and working with the city’s organic, innate processes that are being “blocked, concealed or simply ignored.”

Chapter of book: Marco Casagrande: Who Cares, Wins the Third Generation City. Edit. Anna Yudina. ISBN 978-986-85001-9-8. JUT Foundation for Arts & Architecture, Taiwan

OPEN FORM TAIWAN

My first contact with Taiwan was in year 2000, when Architect Chi Ti-nan was representing Taiwan in the Venice Biennale. I found his flyer on the ground and got curious about him. This year we had the 60 Minute Man boat with forest in the Arsenale harbour. We started a dialog with Chi and he invited me to Taipei to the Urban Flashes symposium, 2001. Before Taiwan I had been working in Japan for various projects, but Taipei was really the first Asian city for me where pollution was so much part of the cityscape. There was a layer of dust on top of benches and the river looked like dead. I could not understand, why the same people who used the city so cleverly and self-organized, could let the natural environment to become in such a bad shape. It felt like the city did not care or purely ignored where it is growing in and growing from. On the airplane back to Finland I wrote a letter to the Taipei City Government stating that they will die, with simple set of one-liners, why. I did not receive any letter back.

In 2002 professor Roan Ching-yueh was participating in the Urban Flashes in Lintz, Austria together with architect Hsieh Ying-chun. I had written a small manifesto called Real Reality and I guess Roan was the only one really reading it. It was rather eye-opening also to follow Hsieh’s presentation about his communicative action after the 228 earthquake with aboriginal people. Actually Roan moderated the talks, also mine. Soon after this I received a letter back from the Taipei City Government, where they started to invite me back to Taipei in order to start thinking on some outlines for urban ecological restoration, not to die I suppose.

I got back to Taipei due to Roan’s lobbying and ended up to work in Treasure Hill with Hsieh. We had 200 students and Hsieh’s teams of aboriginal workers. I was mostly impressed about the students and professors volunteering from the Tamkang University Department of Architecture. I got adopted by Missis Chen, the matriarch of Treasure Hill and she opened up some doors to the Local Knowledge of Taipei. It was fascinating. These doors seemed to be gateways to same organic knowledge as towards Professor Svein Hatloy, Bergen School of Architecture had walked me in, Open Form. Roan talked about Dao, Treasure Hill was an organic constructive mess and Missis Chen was dealing with the original ground. Biourbanism in Taipei seemed to be possible. These people were Open Form.

After returning to Finland I received an e-mail from Professor Chen Cheng-chen asking me to become a Visiting Professor in Tamkang University. For some reason I though this to be a joke and I woke up only after the third e-mail, that this might actually be real. In autumn 2004 I started in Tamkang, which was a blessing. I tried to drive to Taiwan from Finland with a KTM Paris-Dakar enduro motorcycle, but got stuck in the Chinese border on the Gobi desert and had to fly the rest of the journey. Tamkang was fully supportive for the development of the ideas of Urban Acupuncture and the Third Generation City and I also found the Ruins there, ending up living in the T-Factory ruin in Sanjhih.

It was in this ruin where I found the cocoon of the Phimenes Sp., made out of weak concrete. Same time Hsieh was experimenting weak concrete in Nantou. Roan said, that I should show the cocoon to Mr. Aaron Lee, head of the JUT developers and so I got introduced to him. Inspired by this Insect Architecture we realized the Bug Dome bamboo cocoon in Shenzhen Biennale with Roan and Hsieh. Aaron flew in with his brother to check out the work and after this he commissioned me to start working with him in Taipei. So begun the Ultra-Ruin, Cicada, Ruin Academy and Feng-Shui Snowman. Paracity also started with Aaron on his suggestion to think of the possibility of a fragment of the Third Generation City on a flooded island in the Xindian River.

These work and talks are not mainly between people. There is some more grounding force pushing through them, sweating through us. Some may refer to it as Dao or Open Form or even Local Knowledge, but I think that it is a bit more complex than what can be really named. It is kind of a will or requirement from the one mind of Nature, the same will that is resonating behind the singing of the birds. The will that is resonating behind the single moves of all the leaves in the jungle, resonating behind anything that is part of the life-providing system. Missis Chen was resonating this. Taipei is resonating this. Tuning up with this resonation is the key to the Third Generation City, to Biourbanism and to Open Form. Otherwise we are just pollution. Design is a secondary thing, resonating is the main thing. It is wrong to say, that as architects we are doing temporary things for the time being. When our things are resonating with nature, there is no time; architecture and the city becomes part of nature. Otherwise we are just pollution.

PORCUPINE

“What really happened to the Porcupine?”

“One day he came back from the Zone and became amazingly rich, amazingly rich. The next week he hanged himself.”

The modern city is drifting away. Together with industry it has proclaimed independence from nature; mechanical man is self-sufficient. No more local knowledge, no more pattern language, but a closed form tightly wrapped in the fictional cloth of the development, the source of all pollution, the exponential one-way drive to self-destruction. 

What are the trees thinking, and the ants? Our roadside-picnic has accelerated the enlightenment of colonialism into the final level, the big-bang, which we cannot even hear. We, who so sensitive even to hear the resonating behind the singing of the birds. We, savages and natives of the big mind, decide not to hear or feel, but to be served numb by our own self-destruction, the development.

To develop into what? It’s not the god’s own image, nor it is the nothingness. We say society and we say country, we say god. And to serve these we say economy. Karl Marx was horribly wrong stating that we must own the means of production. Production on the cost of what? We need to scarify and vote, for what – the self-destruction – the development? The wisest of us never develop, they resonate with the rest. How many of us can really resonate; even with the trees?

So the space is the answer, or aliens picking us up. Leaving all this trash behind, and flying away with the angels. Of course the chosen ones. The chosen people. These guys are bad. They are Hollywood, “entertaining” the human species. Entertaining from what? We need to survive. First comes survival, then comes comfort, then comes beauty. Architecture deals with all of this. Architects are not important, but architecture is. We can survive in beauty along with this one mind. Architecture is the art of reality; there is no other reality than nature. We all resonate with this one mind, if we forget the forgetting – the development.

We have two specialties: destroying ourselves and destroying everything around us. What is left is going into space. Anarchy? Taking control of ourselves instead of production, exploitation. Controlling ourselves in order to be able to resonate. Nation states must be able to go in order to let nature to step in as our countries. Otherwise this is all nonsense. We don’t inhabit the land, we grow from it. Just like the trees.

終極廢墟

文／艾帢米克 Edzard Mik

譯／吳介禎  Wu, Anderson C. J.

英文版原刊於 荷蘭archidea magazine #56

 

Photos: AdDa Zei

很難想像〈終極廢墟〉的木構造屋頂、樓梯、牆、板凳、通道可以在一個建築師事務所的辦公室裡構思出來。然而細緻的外觀與細節，顯然還是經過深思熟慮規劃出來的結果。因為它們太奧秘、帶著太多暗示、具有太多主動性，設計無法在繪圖桌上或在電腦裡執行。它們有機地生長，就像〈終極廢墟〉周圍樹林裡的植物與藤蔓，進而包覆原來就在那裡的農舍殘跡。

事實上它們不是被設計出來，而是由芬蘭建築師馬可．卡薩格蘭與事務所同事們，對基地與廢墟即刻反應，進而而創造完成。從各面向來說，〈終極廢墟〉是馬可．卡薩格蘭工作方針的體現：放棄人為控制以開啟或創造可直覺接近、可聯繫建築與自然親密感的空間，以及實際在場作為感受基地動能的方法。更該強調，基地上所有棲居者的生活，都不能也不該與大自然的戲劇表演分隔，包括它的生命力、腐朽與死去。

〈終極廢墟〉是一家人的會所，偶爾外借舉辦會議。地點在台灣台北，位處一片梯田與樹林的交會處。馬可．卡薩格蘭稱這件作品為「弱建築」，空間規劃遵循他的開放形態原則。根據對於周遭樹林、廢棄的紅磚農舍與在地知識的直覺反應，在基地現場即興設計。

複合式的建築物有各種空間與平台，提供從起居到冥想等不同功能。介於室內外之間的空間連續性富有變動彈性、相互交織。房子深入樹林，樹林也伸入房子。這個把室內帶到室外，把室外帶入室內的方法，使〈終極廢墟〉成為調節自然與人最極致的建築工具。房子不需要封閉，不需要與自然隔絕。住在裡面的人必須與自然相處，珍惜自然的戲劇性與自然之美。

超越人為控制，〈終極廢墟〉是個有機的意外。馬可．卡薩格蘭放手建築設計的操作，迎接自然，容許人的錯誤發生。在他眼裡，建築不是獨立的語言，也不是大多數建築師所相信的自言自語。他認為建築需要自然，以成為自然的一部分，所以稱〈終極廢墟〉是一種後廢墟狀態：人們回到廢棄的房子裡，並與叢林與大自然共享空間。

〈終極廢墟〉根基於自 2009 年起，持續不斷地與業主對話。最早的建築介入，是一張可以讓建築師與業主坐下來談的桌子。接下來是提供桌子遮蔽的結構。其餘的部份都從這裡開始一點一滴地成長，對話也一直持續，〈終極廢墟〉也一直有機地發展。建築是開放的，永遠不會停工，也永遠未完成。

"IF YOU ARE NOT CONNECTED WITH NATURE, YOU PRODUCE POLLUTION"

INTERVIEW WITH MARCO CASAGRANDE OF CASAGRANDE LABORATORY

Edzard Mik, ARCHIDEA #57 / 2018

Marco Casagrande considers himself an animist architect. Architecture shouldn’t impose itself on nature. Physical presence is the key. “I like to build a fire before I start constructing. Sleeping at the site also helps me to get connected with it.”

Photo: Ville Malja

The sensual entanglement of ruins and wooden structures, refurbishing an abandoned building with provisions for trees and plants, an organic structure of willow branches in between depressing residential towers: what stands out in the provocative architecture of the Finish architect Marco Casagrande is an ambivalent attitude towards design. His designs have a sophisticated quality, yet he also seems to criticize design in his work.

“I am not comfortable with architecture that has become design,” he explained. “To me that kind of architecture feels like pollution. Architecture should be connected with reality. Design stands on its own. It tries to replace reality and to be independent of it, solely expressing the designer’s point of view. I cannot put my thumb on the precise reason, but I feel that design is my enemy.”

How can you possibly escape “design” while making architecture?

“I always try to ruin my own design. Architecture, real architecture, is not about imposing an artificial order on reality. It is about digging it out like an archaeologist. Therefore I work on a project until it starts to become itself. Sometimes, while designing, a moment comes when I feel that it is 'there'. Often it has to do with the site. I work at different places. I am like a parachutist, I am dropped in somewhere and then I have to open myself up to the place, to break myself open, to exhaust myself, until I reach a state of feeling the site. It's essential to get that feeling and to keep it. What I should do or shouldn’t do then starts to reveal itself. This process is not at all easy. And it isn’t necessarily pleasant. It can even be painful, especially if I try to rush at it. But I know that my own project first has to die. Every good project has to die at least once, and then it gets the chance to become more than you ever could think of beforehand. Of course, it mustn't die completely. But it has to die in such a way that you lose control over it. Control is another enemy, besides design.”

Drawing: Marco Casagrande

Photo: Jussi Tiainen

Photo: Sami Rintala

Do you have particular strategies for giving up control?

“I like to build a fire before I start constructing anything. Besides, I need a fire because I have to eat, dry my clothes and repel mosquitoes. Building a fire is a powerful method for connecting with the site. It means that I have to find out where to gather wood and I have to check the direction of the wind, before I can decide on the right place to build a fire. It often turns out in a later phase of the project that this place is  a meaningful place in the building. Sleeping at the site also helps me to feel the connection. It teaches me where insects are coming from and how the wind changes during the night. It generates encounters, for instance with local people who sneak through the site, a grandmother who takes one brick because she needs it for something.”

                Can you apply that strategy equally well in the city?

“It definitely works in the city too. In the Ruin Academy in Taipei, in an abandoned building, I took away all the windows. But while sleeping there I found out that I had created an unpleasant acoustic situation. The rooms echoed with noise from the traffic. So I had to grow bamboo in the windows and make wooden structures to damp out the echoes. Physical presence is the key. You can be present mentally, but you have to be present physically as well. Site specific conditions materialize in your body; you can only understand them through your body. Being together with others physically, working and sweating together, is a significant tool for communication because we all share a similar body. We share the same physical sensations, independently of our culture.”

Treasure Hill, Taipei, Taiwan (2003). Photo: Stephen Wilde

Photo: Marco Casagrande

But in the end you are constructing something, which means that you create a projection for the future, beyond your presence in the here and now.

“I am not so sure any more what time means. I used to think of time as being born, growing up and dying. But now I am growing more aware of different time scales, unconnected to my own lifespan. The times of other people, of volcanic rocks and granite, of the ants that crawl through the site and the plants and trees that grow there, of the wind and the typhoons, the time of the Earth and the Moon. Each phenomenon has its own time, and I want to understand them all and let them meet ‒ for instance, to direct the wind so you are touched by it while sleeping. Or to raise the floor so snakes can crawl under it."

Chen House, Sanjhih, Taipei County, Taiwan (2008). Photos: AdDa Zei

Do you mean that you try to orchestrate different times?

“I know something about atmospheric circulation and the course of the sun. But essentially, I don’t know what I am going to do in advance. I trust in accidents. I try to make a platform for accidents. I dig myself in and something gets constructed out of the mess. Treasure Hill in Taipei was an illegal settlement in a complex of abandoned bunkers. The local government commissioned me to develop an ecological master plan for Taipei Basin, while the same government was destroying Treasure Hill. I found Treasure Hill more interesting. I started a farm where a previous farm was destroyed by government officials. But I did it in the wrong way because my model of farming was Finnish, which means you put seeds in the ground and plants will grow. An old lady who used to own the farm passed by and criticized my work. She told me that a typhoon would wipe away everything I had done. She instructed me on the right way to do it. I had to dig ditches and plant the seeds in specific places. Finally the farm began to look like a farm. At the same time the whole settlement was watching me. Together with the grandma instructing me, it became a piece of theatre for them. They realized that she had accepted what I was doing, rebuilding her farm. They lost their fear of the government, showed up with tools and began replanting their own farms. An accidental encounter set off the whole process of rebuilding farms and eventually Treasure Hill.”

Architecture is usually concerned with solving problems. Modernity can be seen in this light too. Do you consider your work as a criticism of modernity?

“Modernity is the aesthetic representation of industrialism. But I try to think positively about industrialism, which is of very recent origin. Maybe it will learn to become part of nature some day. Maybe it will become an organic machine. To achieve that we must open ourselves up to site specific knowledge. I would not call it old knowledge, because knowledge is changing all the time. However, industrialism still assumes that it is independent of nature. Nature is often seen as something hostile, with its floods and typhoons. Through industrialism we create a machine that is completely functional and not related to nature, although it uses its resources. To me, nature is a specific mentality, a mind that thinks of just one thing: to maximize life in the given conditions. If you are not connected to nature, you produce pollution.”

 

Bug Dome, Shenzhen, China (2009). Photos: Nikita Wu

How do you see your work in relation to modernity? Is it a proposal to build differently, or is it a kind of meditation on our attitude towards nature? In other words, is it more like a work of art?

“I consider myself an animist architect. First of all I attempt to connect myself to the mind of a city. Because I can usually communicate only with a limited number of people, I spread rumours through the city. You cannot control rumours. They change all the time. They are like creatures. You can only send them but not control them. Rumours are powerful. I think you could design cities just by rumours. Often my work functions as the source of rumours. People react to them easily. Sometimes I talk about urban acupuncture. That is basically the same. I asked students of the Tamkang University in Taipei to build Trojan horses in order to 'attack' the city. The hidden content was of course not soldiers, but letters from citizens to the mayor expressing their wishes, thoughts and complaints about the city. The rumours spread and we collected thousands of letters. The media became interested. Finally the mayor had no choice but to receive us and to read some of the letters aloud.”

You did some projects with ruins. What do you find attractive about ruins?

“I find them hope-inspiring. There is a lot of hope in ruins. A ruin is architecture that has become part of nature again. Nature reads architecture easily. Mosses start to grow, then plants and trees. To me that that is very beautiful. People usually try to seal their home against the intrusion of nature. To keep nature out of the house, you have to clean it and maintain it all the time. It's a form of control. But if you abandon the house, nature will break in and the house will become part of a life-providing system. I call this second generation architecture. What I am interested in is third generation architecture, when you return and find that the house has become part of nature. How can you live there?  There is plenty of space left over, but perhaps you have to accept that the interior has been penetrated by a tree and plants are creeping out of the cracks. The house is no longer shielding you from nature. It has become an intermediary between you and nature.”

You went to live in a ruin. Can you explain how that worked out practically?

“When I was working at Tamkang University, I told the Dean of the architectural department, professor Chen, that I didn’t want to live in a house any more. I asked for a ruin instead. He found a derelict rice packing factory for me next to a rice paddy. My wife Nikita protested that we could not live there because rain came in through the roof. So my first step was to build a roof above the bed, and the next was to provide facilities for keeping ourselves clean. We could get water in buckets from the nearby river. I fixed up a heater with a gas tank for hot water and cooking. We went from one step to the next until finally we could move in.”

You didn’t design anything?

“I don’t think you can really design architecture. Of course, you can reach a certain level by drawing and making models. But that does not get to the essence of architecture. I only understand what needs to be done once I am occupied with building on the site and experiencing the space growing around me. This teaches me, for example, to make a small adjustment so that I can see the moon at night. If you base the construction of a building only on drawings, you force it to comply with preconceptions. Then the architecture becomes strangely crippled, growing out of nothing. Architecture shouldn’t impose itself on nature. Architecture should be pliant, an undecided form.”

ULTRA-RUIN

ARKKITEHTI 6/2015 Finnish Architectural Review

valokuvat | photos AdDa Zei

teksti | text Marco Casagrande

Architecture gives the commands and architects listen. Actually, nature gives the commands and architecture takes form. An architect is a design shaman who communicates with this reality. Design cannot replace reality or nature. Human control must be opened up in order to let nature step in. Architecture must be ruined. Ruin is when man-made has become part of nature.

Architecture is a site-specific instrument through which the great voice of nature starts to resonate and find form. This great voice is weak and needs great presence, sacrifice and sensitivity to be heard. An architect is one of the sensitive beings to hear this voice and protect the sound. Architecture either is or it isn’t. It cannot be speculated. Architecture is a real reality.

“What really happened to Porcupine?”

“One day he came back from the Zone and became amazingly rich, amazingly rich. The next week he hanged himself.”

– Stalker, Andrei Tarkovsky

People live in space and this connection can be art, a higher thing than what could be designed. Architecture is an accident, which is a higher thing than human control. In order to understand the accident and to let life run through it, one must be present. To be present is the key of all art. This crack in human control is the acupuncture point through which the organism of architecture can grow. Biourbanism is a city of cracks. Architecture is a mediator between man and nature, connecting human nature with the rest of nature, reality. Architecture is the art of reality.

Ultra-Ruin is a wooden architectural organism growing from the ruins of an abandoned red brick farmhouse in the meeting place of terraced farmlands and the jungle. The weak architecture follows the principles of Open Form and is improvised on the site based on instincts reacting to the presence of jungle, ruin and local knowledge.

The complex has a variety of multi-functional spaces and platforms that can be activated for different living functions as well as meditation. The spatial continuity between interior and exterior spaces is flexible – the inside is also outside and the jungle is in the house. Ultra-Ruin is an architectural instrument played by nature including human nature. The main user is a private family, but occasionally the space is opened up for larger meetings.

a - lower deck, b - courtyard, c - loft, d - hall, e - kitchen, f - sauna, g - pool, h - tower

Ultra-Ruin is more of an organic accident than based on industrial control. Architectural control has been opened up in order to let nature step in and human error take place. Architecture is not an independent language and architecture is not talking alone. Architecture needs nature to become part of nature. Ultra-Ruin is a post-ruin condition, where the human has come back to the ruin-house and shares the same space with the jungle.

Ultra-Ruin has been developed since 2009 in close and still ongoing dialog with the client. The first architectural reaction was to build a table around which we could talk, then to build a shelter for this table. The rest of Ultra-Ruin has grown up around this initial impact. We still keep talking and Ultra-Ruin keeps growing as an open form. ark

asuintalo | private house

arkkitehdit | architects Marco Casagrande

osoite | address Yangming Mountain, Taipei, Taiwan

laajuus | gross area 210 m² + 520 m² (terassit | terraces)

valmistuminen | completion 2013

BIOURBANISM OF THE PARACITY

Published in the ARKKITEHTI / FINNISH ARCHITECTURAL REVIEW, November 2015

Marco Casagrande

Open form enables the biourban city. An industrial city seemingly independent of its natural environment is replaced by a living organism.

Paracity is a modular urban structure system based on the use of a glue-laminated solid wood grid, a sort of primary framework, within which people can build their homes, create communities and establish cultivations. Organic by nature, Paracity is capable of growing unaided on urban wastelands such as flood lands or slums. This autonomous biourban growth is made possible by modular environmental technology, which provides the necessary ’internal organs’ for the communities created in the process. Paracity is designed to receive, process and convert the waste generated by urban centres into a resource. It serves as an acupuncture needle in the side of a polluting city.

6 x 6 x 6 m Paracity module at Habitare. 

Open form

As it grows, Paracity obeys the laws of Open Form introduced by Oskar Hansen at CIAM in 1959 and developed further by Svein Hatløy in the 2000s. The methodology is based on the idea of communities growing spontaneously through reciprocally stimulating design concepts. Actually, Open Form is very close to the Taiwanese pre-urban tradition of creating self-organising and often unofficial communities. These micro-urban communities are centres of knowledge, which also serves as fuel of growth for Paracity. Paracity is a compost of local knowledge generating the energy that gives birth to urban communities.

Paracity supplies a growth medium for the development of the community framework to which people add their own human elements. Design does not seek to replace reality. Flesh is More. The primary structure consists of a grid of six or three-meter long glue-laminated beams with CLT panels serving as bracing. The beams are inter-connected using wood joints making it possible for people to extend the primary framework as they wish. CLT possesses excellent earthquake and fire-resistance properties.

Originally, Paracity was designed for areas prone to floods and tsunamis. The entire urban structure rests on CLT posts allowing the water level to rise freely up to the ground floor which is left empty. In the dry season, the ground floor serves as a common living area providing facilities for the exercise of tai-chi, meditation, karaoke, boat repairs, midnight markets and other spontaneous expressions of urban energy.

Biourbanism

Paracity’s biourbanism grows to be assimilated into nature – the structure is auto-ruining. Paracity is a human marshland or compost where the various organic levels overlap and mix to create ‘agritecture’ with nature serving as the collaborative architect.

Paracity feeds on the flows of materials generated by the surrounding city. Even a polluted river serves as a source of energy for this biourban internal organ. Paracity lives and breathes side by side with the surrounding city in a symbiosis like slums: the urban nomads purge the city from the slag produced by it. Paracity represents just an enhancement of the process through the use of modular environmental technology. Paracity is basically a high-tech slum.

In the Paracity pilot project we have proposed in Taipei, household and irrigation water is drawn from the polluted local river and purified. Pre-purified water is pumped to the roof terraces where it is oxidised and root-purified by plants selected for this purpose. From the green areas on the roofs, the water flows down to the community gardens and urban cultivations. Paracity’s main source of energy is the fast-growing biomass that thrives on the fertile flood lands along the river.

Once it has properly struck root and achieved its critical mass, Paracity will reach over Taipei’s 12-metre high flood wall currently separating the industrially produced urban housing from the river and its environs. The flood wall will remain as an industrial relic within Paracity while the new organic urban structure permits peaceful co-existence between the industrial city and the river. Paracity will serve as a mediator between the industrialised human environment and nature.

The fragments of Paracity scattered around Taipei form a network of urban architecture that steers industrial development towards an organic machine. By ruining the industrialised city, it seeks to reclaim it to become part of nature and a ‘third-generation city’.

Third-generation city

The first-generation city is a built-up human community living in immediate interaction with and depending on the natural environment. Taipei’s fertile flood lands have offered favorable conditions for compact housing and the river has provided food and a means of transportation while the mountains flanking the plains have protected the city from the full force of typhoons.

The second-generation city is an industrial city, seemingly independent from the natural environment surrounding it. In fact, nature seems to be harmful to this mechanical machine, as if the floods, for example, intend to destroy it. To prevent this, Taipei has built the flood wall.

The third-generation city represents the organic ruins of the industrialised city. The existing symbioses between Taipei’s collective gardens, urban cultivations and illegal settlements and the surrounding city are fragments of the third-generation city. These areas serve as the city’s acupuncture points piercing through its industrial skin to reach local knowledge. Drawing upon and committed to this resource, the third-generation city grows to become part of nature.

Urban acupuncture is a theory of ecological urban planning that seeks to combine urban planning with the ideas of traditional Chinese medicine. Fundamentally, it perceives cities as multi-tiered living organisms and tries to identify areas and districts ripe for an upgrade and reconditioning. Projects relying on the local traditions and based on the principles of sustainable development serve as acupuncture needles that stimulate the entire organism by curing parts of it.

A ruin is the catharsis of architecture where something man-made reverts to nature. A ruin is the subconscious goal of the industrialised city and the trauma of modern man. Taipei offers an advanced model for the symbiosis where the mechanised city co-exists with unofficial residential areas, collective gardens, city cultivations and urban nomads. With zoning only half-finished, the final touches to the city are put by its residents.

Paracity is the seed of a third-generation city. A modular biourban organism grows in response to human needs while at the same time ruining the surrounding industrial city. Seeds of Paracity are germinating within Taipei in the collective gardens, illegal settlements, abandoned burial grounds and other undeveloped sites. These seeds will contribute to the biological rehabilitation of the surrounding city through urban acupuncture. From these points, Paracity will spread out along the covered river and irrigation channels. Ultimately, the biourban organism and the static city will reach a biologically sustainable equilibrium that will give birth to the third-generation city. ark

ARK, Finnish Architectural Review

PARACITY: KOLMANNEN SUKUPOLVEN KAUPUNKI

Marco Casagrande
Artikkeli on julkaistu FUTURA 1/2015 lehdessä "Tulevaisuus, kaupunki ja me".
Tulevaisuuden tutkimuksen seura ry.

Paracity on modulaariseen massiivipuurunkoon perustuva kaupunkirakennejärjestelmä, johon kaupunkilaiset itse rakentavat omat kotinsa, yhteisönsä ja viljelyksensä. Orgaaninen Paracity kasvaa itsenäisesti olevien kaupunkien jättömaille, kuten tulvatasangoille tai slummeihin. Itsenäisen biourbaanin kasvun mahdollistaa modulaarinen ympäristöteknologia, joka tuottaa syntyville yhdyskunnille niiden tarvitsemat sisäelimet. Paracity vastaanottaa, käsittelee ja muuntaa resursseiksi ympäröivän kaupungin tuottaman jätteen toimien positiivisena akupunktioneulana saastuttavalle kaupungille.

Paracity on suomalainen keksintö ja vientituote, joka on kehitetty Kiinan keskustaideakatemian pyynnöstä vaihtoehtoiseksi, luontoa kunnioittavaksi kaupunkikehitysmalliksi. Paracityn pilottikohteet sijaitsevat Taipein tulvatasankoalueella ja Pohjois-Fukushiman tsunamialueella. Runkomateriaalina käytettävä puu on suomalaisvalmisteinen ristikkäin laminoitu (CLT) massiivimänty. Paracity on kutsuttu esiteltäväksi osana 2015 Maailmannäyttelyä Milanossa ja Roomassa, jonne rakennetaan kaupunkirungosta asumiskelpoinen osa. 

ELEMENTIT

1. AVOIN MUOTO

Paracity noudattaa orgaanisessa kasvussaan Avoimen muodon (Open Form / Oscar Hansen, Svein Hatloy) metodologiaa, jossa yhteisöt kasvavat spontaaneiden ja toinen toisiaan agitoivien suunnitteluratkaisuiden kautta. Avoin muoto on käytännössä hyvin lähellä taiwanilaista alku-urbaania tapaa rakentaa itseorganisoituvia ja usein laittomia yhdyskuntia. Nämä mikrourbaanit yhteisöt ovat paikallisen tiedon keskittymiä, joka on myöskin Paracityn kasvuvoima. Paracity on paikallisen tiedon komposti, jonka energia ruokkii siitä yhteisöjään kasvattavia kaupunkilaisia. 

Keskitetty arkkitehtoninen kontolli on avattu, jotta luonto, mukaanlukien ihmisluonto, voi astua sisään. Paracityn elämää tuottava volyymi on maksimaalinen – existence maximum (vrt. Spinal Tap, volume 11), joka ylittää inhimillisen kontrollin.

2. CLT-RUNKO 

Paracity tarjoaa yhteisökehitykselle luuston, johon ihmiset tuottavat lihan. Design ei voi korvata todellisuutta. Flesh is More. Primääristruktuuri koostuu 6-metriä pitkistä tikuista, joiden vahvuus on 50 cm. Rakennusmateriaalina on ristikkäinlaminoitu massiivipuu CLT (Cross-Laminated Timber). Tikut muodostavat 6x6x6 m kuutioita, joita Taipein pilottikohteessa on pinottu korkeimmillaan 8 päällekkäin, eli 16 kerroksen korkeuteen. CLT:llä on loistavat maanjäristyksen- ja palonkesto-ominaisuudet. Tikut liittyvät toisiinsa puuliitoksin ja kaupunkilaiset voivat halutessaan itse kasvattaa primäärirunkoa tai sitten rungon pystytyksestä vastaa paikallinen yhteisörakennuttaja. CLT-runko tarjoaa alustan, jolle kaupunkilaiset itse toteuttavat asumuksensa, yhteisönsä ja viljelyksensä. 

3: YMPÄRISTÖTEKNOLOGIA

Paracityn biourbaanin kasvun mahdollistaa yhdessä VTT:n kanssa kehitetty modulaarinen ympäristöteknologia, joka tuottaa kaupunkirakenteelle sen tarvitsemat sisäelimet kasvun mukaan. Ympäristöteknologia tarjoaa mm. seuraavia ratkaisuja:

- Paracityn ja ympäröivän Taipein jätevesien käsittely.


- Vedenpuhdistus - Paracityn käyttövesi otetaan saastuneesta Danshui-joesta.


- Lietteen käyttö kaupunkiviljelysten lannoitukseen ja bioenergin lähteenä.


- Suljetun vedenkierron kalojen, äyriäisten ja vesikasvien viljely.


- Ympäröivän kaupungin rakennusten purkujätteen kierrätys yksityisasuntojen rakennusmateriaaliksi.


- Biomassan kasvattaminen Taipein tulvatasangoilla ja kasvun hyödyntäminen bioenergian lähteenä.


- Aurinkoenergia.



4. BIOENERGIA

Paracityn tuottaa bionenergiaa omasta ja ympäröivän kaupungin tuottamasta orgaanisesta jätteestä, sekä Taipein tulvatasangoilta niitettävästä biomassasta. Niittäminen tapahtuu proomuista käsin. Laajamittainen nopeasti kasvavan biomassan viljely Danshui, Keelong ja Xindian jokien tulvatasangoilla edesauttaa Taipein mikroilmastoa ja kaupunkiekologiaa ja se juurakkopuhdistaa saastunutta jokiympäristöä. Paracity tähtää Taipein jokien luonnonmukaiseen restaurointiin. 

5. PARASIITTIURBANISMI

Paracity elää ympäröivän kaupungin tuottamista materiaalivirroista. Jopa saastunut joki on voimanlähde tälle biourbaanille sisäelimelle. Paracity on keskiaikaista lääketiedettä; juotikkaiden käyttöä ruumiinkierron parantamiseen. Paracity päästää Taipeista pahaa verta ja käyttää tämän resurssinaan. Virallisesti 37% Taipein jätevedestä lasketaan suoraan käsittelemättä jokiin. Paracity haluaa tämän kaiken ja se haluaa kaiken muunkin ”jätteen”, jota kaupunki ei pysty käsittelemään. Paracity elääkin ympäröivän kaupungin kanssa samankaltaisessa symbioosissa kuin slummi: kaupukinomadit puhdistavat staattista kaupunkia sen kuonasta. Paracityssä prosessia on ainoastaan tehostettu modulaarisella ympäristöteknolgialla. Periaatteesa Paracity on high-tech slummi. 

6. EXISTENCE MAXIMUM

Paracity on Kolmannen sukupolven kaupungin siemen. 3G kaupunki on teollisen kaupungin (2G) orgaaninen raunio. Modulaarinen biourbaani organismi kasvaa määräävän luonnonlain mukaan - existence maximum. Primääristruktuuri kasvaa ihmisten mukaan ja saavutettuaan kriittisen massan Paracity ylittää tulvatasangoilta Taipein 12 m korkean tulvamuurin ja kasvaa sisälle teolliseen kaupunkiin ja alkaa raunioittaa sitä. Paracityn siemeniä alkaa itää Taipein sisällä kollektiivipuutarhoissa, kaupunkiviljelyksissä, laittomilla asuinalueilla, hylätyillä hautausmailla ja muilla rakentamattomilla pisteillä, joista ne alkavat vaikuttaa ympäröivän kaupungin biologiseen kuntouttamiseen kaupunkiakupunktion keinoin. Näistä pisteistä Paracity levittäytyy kaupunkiin seuraten katettuja joki- ja kastelujärjestelmäuomia, kuten Liukong kanavajärjestelmää ja lopulta biourbaani organismi ja staattinen kaupunki saavuttavat biologisesti kestävän tasapainon eli Kolmannen sukupolven kaupungin.

7. MEDIAATTORI

Juurruttuaan tulvatasangoille ja saavutettuaan kasvussaan kriittisen massan Paracity ylittää Taipein 12-metrisen tulvamuurin, joka nykyisellään erottaa rakennetun ihmisympäristön jokiluonnosta. Tulvamuuri jää teolliseksi reliktiksi Paracityn sisuksiin, mutta uusi orgaaninen kaupunkirakenne mahdollistaa teollisen kaupungin ja jokiluonnon kohtaamisen ja yhteiselon. Paracity toimii välittävänä rakenteena jokitodellisuuden ja urbaanin fiktion välillä – siltana ihmisluonnon ja luonnon välissä.

8. ORGAANISET TASOT

Paracityn biourbanismi kasvaa osaksi luontoa. Rakenne on komposti, jossa eri orgaaniset tasot limittyvät ja sekoittuvat keskenään agritektuuriksi, jonka kehitystä määrää ihmisluonto osana luontoa. Kaupungin käyttövesi ja viljelysten kasteluvesi puhdistetaan saastuneesta jokivedestä. Puhdistettu vesi pumpataan Paracityn viherkattotasanteille, jossa se hapetetaan ja edelleen juurakkopuhdistetaan kasvukenttien läpi. Katoilta puhdas vesi valuu painovoimaisesti yhteisöpuutarhoille ja kaupunkiviljelyksille. Kaupungin pääenergianlähteenä toimii nopeasti joen runsasravinteisilla tulvatasangoilla kasvatettava biomassa. 

9. BIOURBAANI RESTAURAATIO

Paracity on positiivinen orgaaninen syöpä Taipein mekaanisessa kudoksessa. Se elää symbioosissa ympäröivän kaupungin kanssa, jota se puhdistaa saasteista ja jonka kehitystä se välillisesti ohjaa kohti biologista kaupunkirestauraatiota. Paracity on vaihtoehtoinen todellisuus teolliselle kasvulle, kaupunkiakupunktioneula, joka kuntouttaa ympäröivää kaupunkia samaan tapaan, kuin spontaanit kollektiivipuutarhat ja kaupunkiviljelykset. Paracityn fragmentit ympäri Taipeita muodostavat kaupunkiakupunktuurin verkoston, joka säättää teollista kehitystä kohti orgaanista. Se raunioittaa teollista kaupunkia ja pyrkii saattamaan sen osaksi luontoa, kohti Kolmannen sukupolven kaupunkia. 

10. VAPAA TULVIMINEN

Paracity sopeutuu elämään taifuunien mukana sykkivän tulvivan joen kanssa. Koko kaupunkirakenne seisoo CLT-tolppien päällä ja joki pääsee vapaasti nousemaan sen ensimmäisiin tyhjiin kerroksiin. Itse asiassa Paracity matkii joen tulvimista pyrkimyksessään olla arkkitehtoninen tulva, joka ylittää Taipein tulvamuurin ja levittäytyy mekaaniseen kaupunkiin. 

11. PAIKALLINEN TIETO

Paracity on syntynyt Taipein kaupungistuneen tulvatasangon paikallisesta tiedosta, alkuperäisistä taiwanilaisista yhteisömalleista, jotka ovat itserakentuneita ”laittomia” yhteisöjä, joissa ihmiset rakentavat omat talonsa ja säätävät yhteisönsä kasvamaan luonnon ehdoilla. Paikallisen tiedon ilmentymiä ovat myös Taipein lukuisat kollektiivipuutarhat ja kaupunkiviljelykset, jotka valtaavat tyhjiä tontteja ja jättömaata kaupungista. Kaupunkinomadit aistivat kaupungin energiakenttiä ja kykenevät kommunikoimaan kollektiivisen alitajunnan kanssa. Keskusjohtoinen kaupunki on pelkkä alusta, jolla paikallinen tieto velloo oman, orgaanisen tajuntansa mukaisesti. Paikallinen tieto sitoo modernitkin taipeilaiset osaksi luontoa. Paracity tarjoaa kasvualustan paikallisen tiedon rakenteelliselle anarkialle, jonka todellisen inhimillisen tason rakentavat kapunkilaiset itse. Paracity on joka paikassa erilainen ja paikallisen tiedon kulttuuriin sidottu. Ainoastaan primäärirakenne ja ympäristöteknologiset ratkaisut pysyvät samoina ja mahdollistavat paikkasidonnaisen biourbaanin kasvun.

12. BIOKLIMAATTINEN ARKKITEHTUURI

Paracityssä on paljon reikiä, kuiluja ja tunneleita. Rakenne tuulettaa itse itsensä, kuin suuri teollisten hyönteisten keko. Lämpötilaerot kattopintojen, viljelysten, varjoisien pintojen ja vesielementtien välillä generoivat tuulia ja ilmavirtoja. Yksittäiset rakennukset noudattavat luonnonmukaisen ilmankierron periaatteita.

13. SOPEUTUVAISUUS

Paracityn pilottikohde on suunniteltu Taipeihin, mutta järjestelmä on kehitetty toteuttamiskelpoiseksi eri kohteisiin ympäri maailman. Paracity tarjoaa vaihtoehdon Kiinan strategiselle kaupunkisuunnittelulle jokikaupunkien luonnonmukaisemmalle kehitykselle. Paracityn rakennetta voidaan käyttää myös erikokoisina kaupunkiakupunktioneuloina teollisesti kasvavien kaupunkien ekologisessa restauroinnissa. Paracity voi toimia puskurivyöhykkeenä saastuttavan kaupungin ja luonnon välillä kuten slummit esim. Mumbaissa tai Jakartassa. Rakenne voi kasvaa slummeista, joiden asukkaille se tarjoaa paremman elinympäristön ja joissa se tehostaa slummien nykykäytäntöä käsitellä ympäröivän kaupungin tuottamia jätteitä. Paracity soveltuu tulviville ja tsunamiriskialueille. Paracity on valittu yhdeksi koerakenteeksi Japanin Tohokun alueen tsunamituhon jälleenrakennukseen. Paracity on orgaaninen, sopeutuvainen ja paikalliseen tietoon reagoiva kaupunkirakenne, joka parsii yhteen teollisen kaupungin ja luonnon välistä kuilua. 

KOLMANNEN SUKUPOLVEN KAUPUNKI

Ensimmäisen sukupolven kaupunki on rakennettu ihmisyhteisö, joka elää välittömässä vuorovaikutuksessa luonnon kanssa ja on ympäröivästä luonnosta riippuvainen. Taipein hedelmällinen tulvatasanko on tarjonnut puitteet tiiviille asutukselle, joki on tuottanut ruokaa ja väylän liikkumiselle ja tasankoa ympäröivät vuoret ovat suojanneet kaupunkia taifuunien suorilta iskuilta. 

Toisen sukupolven kaupunki on teollinen kaupunki, joka elää näennäisesti itsenäisenä luonnosta. Itse asiassa luonto toimii haitallisesti mekaaniselle koneelle, esimerkiksi tulvat tuntuvat haluavan hajottaa koneen. Taipei on rakentanut kaupungin ja jokiluonnon väliin 12 metriä korkean teräsbetonimuurin.

Kolmannen sukupolven kaupunki on teollisen kaupungin orgaaninen raunio. Symbioosi Taipein kollektiivipuutarhojen, kaupunkiviljelysten sekä laittomien asuinalueiden ja ympäröivän kaupungin välillä ovat Kolmannen sukupolven kaupungin fragmentteja. Nämä alueet ovat kaupungin akupunktiopisteitä, jotka pureutuvat teollisen kuoren läpi kosketuksiin paikallisen tiedon kanssa. Kolmannen sukupolven kaupunki sitoutuu paikalliseen tietoon ja sitä kautta kasvaa kiinni osaksi luontoa. 

Kaupunkiakupunktio on ekologisen kaupunkisuunnittelun teoria, joka yhdistää kaupunkisuunnittelua ja perinteistä kiinalaista akupunktiolääketieteen teoriaa. Lähtökohtaisesti se havainnoi kaupunkeja monitasoisina elävinä organismeina, joista se pyrkii määrittämään kuntoutusta vaativia alueita. Paikalliseen traditioon sitoutuvat ja kestävän kehityksen mukaiset projektit toimivat akupunktioneuloina, jotka elvyttävät kokonaisuutta parantamalla sen osia.

Raunio on arkkitehtuurin katharsis, jossa ihmisen luomasta tulee osa luontoa. Raunio on teollisen kaupungin alitajuinen haave ja modernin ihmisen trauma. Taipei tarjoaa kehittyneen symbioosimallin, jossa mekaaninen kaupunki elää yhteiseloa epävirallisten asuinalueiden, kollektiivipuutarhojen, kaupunkiviljelysten ja kaupunkinomadien kanssa. Kaavoitus on jätetty puolitiehen ja ihmiset ovat viimeistelleet kaupungin. 

Casagrande Laboratory tutkii niitä biourbaaneja prosesseja, jotka kehittävät teollista kaupunkia kohti Kolmannen sukupolven kaupunkia. Tutkimus keskittyy paikallisen tradition ilmentymiin Taipeissa ja miten tämä orgaaninen tieto valmistaa teollista kaupunkia kohtaamaan luonnonmukaisen uudistumisen.