1,720,968 research outputs found
Patchwork
No full textPatchwork envisions a redevelopment of Carlsentomta, an abandoned greyfield in the harbor of Sandefjord. With preservation and transformation as key tools, the project aims to create a diverse and engaging mixed-use environment that honors local history and character, challenging the conventional approach to greyfield.
Located in the center of Sandefjord harbor, for decades, Carlsentomta bustled with activity related to the maritime industries. In the early 1900s, the level of activity reached its peak, as Sandefjord played a major role in the industrial whaling industry. At this time, the site functioned as the local hub of timber supplies to the shipyards. Moving into the late 1900s and the 2000s, however, industrial whaling was (thankfully) suspended. Consequently, most industrial activity in Sandefjord harbor either downscaled or moved out of the town. As the harbor gradually adapted from the secondary to the tertiary sector, Carlsentomta provided a timber warehouse/hardware store and a gas station. Eventually, these activities also proved unfeasible in what was now becoming a largely post-industrial harbor. Carlsentomta has been an abandoned question mark along the waterfront for the last decade.
Of course, sites like this are not unique to Sandefjord. Abandoned greyfields like Carlsentomta have become a familiar sight in towns all over Norway, where industrial activity has lost relevance or is now undesired. A patchwork of abandoned industrial buildings can usually be found within sites like these. Carlsentomta contains two large steel frame storage halls, a timber frame storage hall, and a collection of pitched roof timber and masonry buildings of different sizes. While their aesthetics and conditions vary, most developers would consider them of little value – if any at all.
As a result, all the buildings are to be demolished in the latest redevelopment proposal from the local building developers and Sandefjord municipality. In fact, none of the buildings were even considered preserved or transformed. The remaining spaces are either to be occupied with semiprivate green spaces or new and generic one- to two-story buildings with privatized commercial spaces. This is not an uncommon practice for sites and buildings of this manner, but considering we are dealing with a climate crisis where the building industry is responsible for approximately 40% of global carbon emissions, surely preservation and transformation should at least be considered an option worth exploring.
However, this is not the only issue. The aesthetics and programs of the proposal have generated an uproar among the people of Sandefjord. In the local newspaper, people have expressed concerns about the buildings’ alienation and criticized the proposal for its generic appearance, which they believe lacks local character. Additionally, they argue that the proposed program, which privatizes the site with identical apartments and generic commercial spaces, offers little value to the local community at such a central and significant site in Sandefjord – one directly adjacent to the waterfront in the south and the oldest part of the town in the north.
It must be pointed out that this engagement has not appeared in a vacuum. In the eastern part of town, the inhabitants have experienced firsthand how the high-rising, generic-looking apartment blocks of recent years have created windy, shadowy, and generally undesirable urban spaces. Furthermore, a connection could be drawn to the nationwide uproar of Arkitekturopprøret, which has engaged people by the thousands in recent years, expressing similar dissatisfaction over contemporary architecture and urbanism.
To address these concerns, the scope of my diploma project is to develop a comprehensive plan and vision for the site of Carlsentomta that provides a diverse and dynamic public program in mixed-use buildings. This includes residential units alongside spaces for art, culture, culinary experiences, performance venues, co-working, workshops, green areas, and other similar amenities. Establishing how the site reacts to the adjacent features of the town, like the main road crossing through the area, the waterfront, and the neighboring area of 19th-century houses, has also been significant. The main aim of my diploma, however, is to challenge the conventional approaches to greyfield redevelopment in Norwegian towns by applying an alternative working method. In my approach, the notion of preservation and transformation is not overlooked but, on the contrary, used as the fundamental tool to drive the project forward. In this way, my project is to become the counterpart to the previous regulations and proposals and exhibit the neglected, forgotten, or undiscovered possibilities in building upon the provenance of the site and projecting it forward. Consequently, this determined a collection of preconditions for the area’s architecture and urban structure.
My role as an architect has been to maneuver within these preconditions with architectural additions, subtractions, and reorganizations, enabling the patchwork of the past to collide with the patchwork of new ideas and programs. Like how the former alley for gathering timber supplies becomes a pleasant way to pass through, maybe stopping for a snack. Or how the main road crossing the site is kept in place in order to preserve and keep costs down but is transformed into a shared space street – integrating areas for vehicles, pedestrians, and cyclists into one unified space, which promotes mutual awareness and slower speeds. Or how the preservation of the wall with the Sandefjord mural enables the creation of an inner square for the inhabitants of the city. I hypothesize that the utilization of this methodology has created an architecture that is not only more distinctive but also more deeply rooted in its locale. The act of colliding patchwork uncovers the unique qualities of the existing structures and sustainably offers a more diverse collection of spaces that encourages an engaging urbanity to greyfields in small towns like Sandefjord
Reassembling the Rejected: Adaptive Reuse of Paleet Car Park
No full textREASSEMBLING THE REJECTED aims to search for qualities in unwanted spaces, by working with adaptive reuse of Paleet Car Park as case—a multi-storey parking and office structure located in the centre of Oslo, Kvadraturen, about to be demolished in favor of a new office building later this year.
It has been an exploratory study in models and drawing to see if a building dimentioned for cars can become a space of comfort and joy.
Allowing history to interact with new concepts isn’t just about sustainable reuse; it’s also a way to preserve historical uniqueness of our cities and making sure our collective stories are not lost. But we live in a time where what is valued is mainly whats old, though we’re not in a position to selectively choose which historical aspects to embrace.
It is important that we take these unwanted buildings seriously and take the time to search for a human scale that may have gotten a bit lost in these 80s structures. By letting this car park’s original character persist, new and unexpected spaces is allowed; this project is looking at possibilities to prepare the existing building for whatever the occupants may want to do with it. In this case I chose to look for possibilities for residential use in combination with other more social programmes, as these building typologies offers an opportunity for dwellings that provide an alternative to typical pre-determined apartments.
The focus on residential repurposing together with offices, studios and communal spaces seeks to align with Oslo municipality’s vision of enhancing Kvadraturen’s urban vitality and sense of neighbourhood.
Through discovering architectural potentials within Paleet Car Park, this diploma seeks to experiment with new possibilities for this building, and many buildings like it, to outlive their initial purpose.submittedVersio
Lost and found: reimagining the architecture of in-between spaces in Oslo
No full textThis project is an investigation of leftover spaces in Oslo. Through an analysis of their past and present, and a speculation for their future, the aim is to shed light on these often overlooked spaces and look at them through a different lens – one that utilizes architecture to contribute to a more public and non-commercial Oslo.
Through small-scale architectural interventions, the project focuses on seven “in-between spaces” — pockets of the city that are frequently passed through but not so often thought about. They are points of transition — edges, corners, voids, and pauses. Like the scattered kiosks of Oslo’s past, these spaces follow the same logic as the kiosks: they are not destinations, never the end goal, but somewhere that invite momentary interaction. This project explores the in-between spaces of Oslo as sites for these moments.
The backbone of the project is the attempt to combine the needs of the citizens (animals as well) with the public space. Looking at what already exists in the space; structures, urban objects, trees, plants, surfaces and infrastructures, and working with the objects of interest in these sites, as well as three different strategies; maintaining, transforming, and curating: Lost and found is about looking in forgotten corners and pockets of the city, and finding these small gestures that invite momentary interaction. All public spaces need not to be destinations or end-goals.submittedVersio
Between Spaces: A Low Threshold Reception Centre for Women in Addiction
No full textThis work investigates how architectural design can contribute to creating a supportive and dignified environment for women in addiction. While total rehabilitation may be the goal for some, many women live with long-term addiction, requiring spaces that meet them where they are—at their most vulnerable, often without income or stable housing. Low-threshold centres differ from institutional treatment facilities in both function and perception. The architecture of such centres must counteract the negative connotations associated with institutional care, which often exacerbate feelings of distrust among women who feel abandoned by the system.
The site is located in the historic Hausmannskvartalene where the existing complex was built from 1863 to 1969. Early history is kept with the structuring of these three buildings and today the complex is used as storage space serving the neighbouring warehouse Oslo Sportslager.
The role of architecture in maintaining dignity is central to this project. By designing spaces that promote comfort, safety, and a sense of belonging, architecture can offer choices and support the self-determination of individuals who face significant isolation. The transitions between spaces—such as light, sound, temperature, and material shifts—can be particularly challenging for those with addiction, as they often have heightened sensitivities. Thus, careful attention to these transitions is crucial in creating a therapeutic environment.submittedVersio
HOUSE OF ELECTRICITY: : when we meet the machines
No full textThis diploma project explores the architectural potential of electrical substations within the power grid of Oslo, and how obsolete spaces within these buildings can be utilized in the future.
Due to higher demands for a more efficient electricity supply, the entire network is currently undergoing a major restructuring project based on a report by Statnett from 2015 called The Future Power Grid of Greater Oslo (Fremtidens nett i Stor-Oslo). Included in these plans is the upgrading of electrical installations within the substations of the city. This, along with the stations now being remotely controlled and no longer requiring daily staffing, has resulted in redundant spaces within these facilities.
These houses of electricity are part of the greater system across the country - a force starting from the sublime waterfall, traveling through power stations and numerous cables before manifesting itself again when we flip the light switch. This power transmission system plays a significant role within our infrastructure, and its built elements are present in both rural and urban environments. These buildings tell the story of the creation of Norway’s welfare society and the cultivation of natural forces. Because of this, they are also a part of our cultural- and architectural history.
When it comes to the architecture of electricity, the main power stations have dominated the history and literature in this field, while the smaller substations further down the distribution system have remained in the shadow of these monumental buildings. While the substations also started out as a typology expressing the great power of water and new technological inventions, it can be argued that they are now more hidden figures within our cityscape.
This diploma therefore directs the focus towards the substations of Oslo. The aim of the project is to explore how vacant spaces within these structures can be inhabited by working within the interface of humans and electricity. This approach addresses the topics of proximity and protection, while also considering the architectural history of this typology and electricity itself as a phenomenon.submittedVersio
The language of the long-house
No full textLast spring, I spent a few months in Brittany. I went to play boulioù (a local boule game) with the town’s elders when they started sharing their regret of no longer speaking their mother tongue: Breton. I found this testimony touching and absurd: to think that in just 50 years, the language that everyone spoke was forgotten by all.
I have always been interested in this ancient language. It was the mother tongue of my grandparents, the one they used every day, the one my mom understood but never learned, the one I only heard a few times during meetings with elders. The one future generations probably will never hear.
In Brittany, vernacular architecture has origins as old as the spoken language: the long house. It is a house typology where man and animals have coexisted for centuries. The typology has been extended over time depending on the need. It can sometimes reach more than 60 meters in length but never overpass eight meters in depth. With the industrialisation and economic development of the countryside, the Bretons simultaneously abandoned their language and houses. As a symbol
of social elevation, people started speaking French and built new modern homes, often next to the old vernacular structure. In this context, I wanted to understand the architecture of the longhouse and its language.
I started by focusing on a restricted geographical area: the municipality of Languidic. Located in southern Brittany, it is large enough to have a wide range of longhouses. I identified all the longhouses in the area and selected twelve for further analysis. From there, I ocused on the notable elements of the facade: windows, doors, chimneys, stone walls, and the visible layers of history.
I wanted to explore the longhouse as a whole, equitably examining each era that marks the building. New materials and solutions always meet new needs, something recent renovations tend to erase for the sake of a nostalgic view of the past. To practice and test my vocabulary of the long house, I chose a case study: the long house of Kerbléhan. Located on the west side of the town’s centre, it has not
experienced any major changes and remains in rather good condition despite not being inhabited since the 1970s.submittedVersio
Den Strie Ælva: En revitalisering av fløtingsmuseet
No full textDen strie ævla handler tømmerfløtingstradisjonen i Glommavassdraget, og hvordan det siste gjenværende anlegget kan forbli en viktig formidlingsarena. Prosjektet retter søkelys mot museets utfordringer og muligheter i et reelt og truende fremtidig scenario i utviklingen av lokalsamfunnet.
Tømmerfløting har vært en essensiell del av Norges utvikling siden middelalderen, spesielt langs Glomma. Fra de dypeste skoger ble tømmeret fraktet flytende med elvestrømmen til sin destinasjon. I starten foregikk dette som enkel fløting av løse tømmerstokker. Etter en betraktelig økning av mengden tømmer, ble det nødvendig med et organisert samarbeid på tvers av distrikter.
I Glommavassdraget ble elveløpene rustet opp med ulike innretninger som skulle lede tømmeret kontrollert og uhindret. Gjennom fellesfløtningen hadde de 12 ulike distriktene hver sine roller og utfordringer, og var sammen tilknyttet det største skogsarealet for tømmerfløting i Norge.
I Fet like øst for hovedstaden, ble Norges største sorteringsanlegg etablert i 1861. Det var et resultat av at anlegget ble tvunget til å flytte sørover fra Bingen lenser, etter at den nye jernbanelinjen til Kongsvinger sperret elveløpet for store bunter med tømmer. Her ble Fetsund sorteringslenser en av de viktigste arbeidstakerne i regionen i 124 år.
Industrialiseringen førte til en effektivisering og nedskalering av fløternes harde arbeid siden 1960-tallet endte til slutt med en fullstendig avvikling i 1985. Samtidig ble det vedtatt at alle innretninger skulle rives. Den materielle arven etter tømmerfløtingen er i dag tilnærmet visket vekk, av oss mennesker eller naturen selv. Fetsund Sorteringslenser ble fredet i 1989, og står igjen som det eneste komplette anlegget.
Museumsområdet ble før åpningen i 1990 tilrettelagt for rekreasjon og har på fine sommerdager blitt et møtested for de lokale og tilreisende. Museet benytter idag eksisterende bygninger som har begrenset plass til utstillinger og formidling. Det gjør at mange gjenstander og mye historie står lagret utilgjengelig for publikum. I tillegg er disse pragmatiske byggverkene ikke tilpasset museal bruk.
Museet står nå overfor både klimaendringer og utvidelse av infrastruktur for vei og jernbane i umiddelbar nærhet til fredningsområdet, i tillegg til områdets omfattende flom-historikk. Lokalbefolkningen har også vokst med en jevn strøm av innflyttere uten særlig kunnskap om for lenseområdets betydning.
Min arkitektoniske intervensjon tar utgangspunkt i hvilke muligheter som finnes dersom fredningsvedtaket tilsidesettes til fordel for en varsom utvikling. Fredningen var siste utvei for de som kjempet for å bevare stedet, og diskusjonen om hvorvidt fredningens hensikt hindrer stedets fremtidige relevans synes å være legitim:
På hvilken måte kan en utvikling av Fetsund lenser bidra til å revitalisere en ambisjon om et levende museum for en nasjonal tømmerfløtingstradisjon?
Istedenfor å utvikle et separat museumsbygg, forsøker mitt prosjekt å se potensiale i den eksisterende bygningsmassen, samt legge til egnede arealer med tanke på fremtidens utfordringer. Prosjektet setter fokus på en alternativ måte å videreutvikle området på; Omfordeling av arealer bidrar til å tilgjengeliggjøre en uforfalt historie, og det utvider et tilrettelagt område for publikum. Dette bidrar til å rendyrke lenseområdet til formidling av fløtingens historie og verdier.
Utnyttelsen av elvens krefter var en forutsetning for tømmerfløtingen, og med dette følger også flom med som en del av historien. Arkitekturen ser derfor på hvordan det nye fløtingsmuseet kan håndtere slike utfordringer med fokus på konstruksjon. Selv om utvikling i en flomsone i utgangspunktet ikke er anbefalt, er store deler av lenseområdet i en flomsone og sterkt knyttet til fløtingens virksomhet. Et museumsbygg uten direkte tilknytning til område synes å være lite hensiktsmessig.
Prosjektet tar for seg tre eksisterende bygninger lengst sør av det som oppleves som museets område - rett nord for Fedrelandet idrettsarena. Området består av flere mindre bygninger, og utfordringen ligger i hvordan man kunne knytte disse sammen til et større areal med en sammenhengende logisk sirkulasjon. Hovedfokuset har derfor ligget på et påbygg, som knytter tre eksisterende arealene sammen med et nytt areal som er bedre tilpasset museets driftsforutsetninger med tanke på tilkomst, tilgjenglihet, klima og flom.submittedVersio
Reinterpretation: Folketeateret
No full textReinterpreting: Folketeateret explores how a comprehensive building analysis can expand stakeholders’ definition of a building’s significance. By highlighting different examination entries, the aim is to exemplify how alternative narratives can point to the complexity of a building’s history. The project tests a perspective of dismantling the physical building into five (theoretical) scales, where building components are isolated in advancing complexity from the fragment (the building material) to the environment (the physical context the building is placed within) – revealing how the point of view contextualises the building in different ways. The project uses Folketeateret, a building complex in Oslo, as the case study.
The five-scale model
Fragment:
A fragment refers to the various building materials used to construct a building, including those that are made by a producer and those arranged on site. This scale examines the fragment’s material, material quality (durability, tactility, malleability, etc.), craftmanship and/or dimensions. Furthermore, the scale includes the contextual history of the fragment, both related to the building and its physical context.
Element:
An element is a combination of fragments that together form building components such as segments of a wall, the roof, a column, the floor slab, a window, a staircase and more. Elements can be composed of multiple materials. The outline of an element is defined in the meeting with other elements. The transition from one element to the next is observed in the change of material and/or a shift from one volume to another. For example, a façade can consist of several geometrical volumes arranged in such a way that creates a shift from the baseline of the façade. The shift can therefore distinguish two elements from each other, even if they are made of the same fragments. Architects and producers alike can design elements, which can be assembled on-site, or in a factory or workshop setting. Furthermore, the scale includes the contextual history of the element, both related to the building and its physical context.
Fabric:
Fabric is the spatial composition of fragments and elements where the architect’s act of assembling the different components materializes towards a functional building with an artistic expression or intension. Fabric is the scale where the building’s characteristics start to take shape: where configurations of fragments and elements are given directions and rhythm in a geometric composition. The elements become functional: walls, floors, and roofs become structural; windows let in light and give visual contact between inside and outside; stairs connect floors, etc. Fabrics are distinguished from each other by their geometric composition, where different shapes and sizes of elements create a distinct visual arrangement that separates them. Example from Folketeateret: recessed- or protruding volumes.
Structure:
Structure refers to the complete building and encompasses both its form and function. Fabrics are the entities that in structures are constituents in the formulation of the building’s features and characteristics, which can be defined in a typology. Structure points to the overall appearance of the exterior and to the three-dimensional layout of the building. The scale includes the re-interpretation of the architect’s holistic vision for the building as a cohesive entirety.
Environment:
Environment refers to the immediate context in which the building is situated, experienced, and perceived. This includes its relationship with neighbouring structures, streets, squares. The scale considers the location, orientation, and scale, and how they interact with the surrounding district. Additionally, the scale may also examine how the building’s inhabited functions and activities relate to the surrounding area.
What narratives can emerge when exploring the history of a singular fragment or element, or when emphasize is set on one of the spatial characteristics of the building? Reinterpreting: Folketeateret elaborate on this through two fragments, brick and stone, and their connection to Folketeateret; and one of the spatial characteristics in the scale fabric: ”the theatre passage”. The narratives derive from examination and interpretation of archival material, asking where a building’s significance can be defined additionally to how we conventionally describe a building’s architectural historical value. Conventional is here understood as the narratives describing a building’s relation to the architectural expression it has been defined as having or taken inspiration from in hindsight; descriptions where the building as a historical structure is analysed in comparison with other buildings of the same era and with similar architectural language. When examining a building from alternative perspectives, other questions of significance emerge. The hypothesis is that by surveying the variety of contexts and narratives, stakeholders can be more precise about which aspects of the building’s history have significance and are of interest to preserve. Whether listed or not, buildings in use are continuously adapted through design alterations to accommodate a contemporary function. These design alterations add layers of narratives to the building’s history. Which role can these narratives have in the discussion about significance? Moreover, how can these narratives be activated?
Accompaning the project is an essay called ”Reinterpretation: A Comment to the Folketeateret Listing Document”, which discusses what the heritage authorities imply when a building is preserved for its architectural historical value; a critical stand is taken on the word’ tilbakeføring’ (to revert); and the essay discusses further what happens when architectural quality is summed up in a building’s response to defined architectural styles.submittedVersio
Facade Autonomy - A study of the 80s facades at Aker Brygge
No full textGlobal capitalism induces the pressure for change and when urban areas, such as Aker Brygge, are being refurbished, so are the facades. Existing buildings are re-clad with new, green facades, resulting in the disposal of old materials. However, in the context of climate change, this waste poses a significant burden on the planet, so instead of simply discarding the old, there is a need to explore and harness the potential of existing structures.
The facades at Aker Brygge plays a central role in representing the areas culture and history, so this diploma project explores repurposing existing facade materials and delves into authenticity, deception, and the facades as conveyors of representation and language, reflecting on how facade changes impact the area's identity and cultural heritage.submittedVersio
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