Volum e 25 To t he Moon While the Earth needs our utmost attention more than ever, we cannot ignore the fact that the Moon is re-entering the popular imagination. Space travel is on the verge of becoming a tourist option, and a whole industry is working towards lunar settlement as an intermediate step to probe deep space. So we ask: where is architecture in this extreme adventure? What are the implications for the design practice of ‘going there’, for the idea of what is indeed human, or for what is essential to sustain life? And on the nearside, h ow does this affect our daily lives right here?
Volume 25
C o nte nt
11
Lost Astronaut Alicia Fram is Editorial Arjen Oosterman Whole Earth Rise Rory Hyde Roadmap 2050: A Practical Guide to a Prosperous, Low-Carbon Europe OMA/AMO Exploring Earth’s Eighth Continent Bernard Fo in g interview Very Dirty Realism Must Space Race Simon Penne c Out There World’s End Nik Dimopo ulos and Timothy Moore Secret Moons and Black Worlds Trevor Paglen interview The Townships of Moon Jonathan H an ahan Designing Fiction Julian Bleecker and Edwin Gardner Design Thinking ≠ Design Thinking Edwin Gardn er Megaexterior Marcus Trim ble The Politics of a Build(th)ing Bart-Jan Po lman and David Smidt van Gelder A Quick Getaway – Lanzarote as a Surrogate Moon Caspar Fren ken and Tom Vandeputte Lunar Visions Karen Burns
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011122
1 12 14 18 22 26
Along Utopian Lines: American Architecture in the Age of Apollo Mark Foster Gage New Soviet People Will Conquer Space Dean Simpson and Mark Wasiuta Mumbai as a Spaceship: Compact Living on Earth as in Space Susmita Mohanty Settling on the Moon Francesca Miazzo MoonLife Concept Store Catalog Insert
64 70 77 80 81
31 32 34 38 40 47 50 52 58 62
On the Fringe of Science and the Brink of Absurdity Andrea Brennen From Science to Fiction Igor Kozlov interview India: An Evolving Perspective Susmita Mohanty But the Flesh is Weak Thomas Daniell Exploiting the Human Shape: Moon Anthropology and Anthropometry Melchiorre Masali The Human Perspective Barbara Imhof Outer Space, Time and Architecture John Gendall Printing Multimaterials: Testing Architectural Imagination Marlie Mul Designing Moon Life Experiences Irene Lia Schlacht Colophon
132 138 146 151 156 162 168 172 174 184
34546524111478#9
Roadmap 2050 A P ra ct ical Guide to a Prosperous, Low- C a rb on Europe OMA/AMO prop ose another view fro m above for an alternate mode of thinking.
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123
different regions driven by different sources of energy, leading OMA/AMO to tentatively redraw the map. No longer states with a national history, the primary driver of these territories is the type of renewable energy they generate. Europe turns properly into a team, like a team of football players, with very dedicated roles all directed toward a state of mutual benefit. In order to share these benefits, Europe requires a radical transformation of its energy grid, enabling the possibility of exchange between various regions. While the existing network is already interconnected to a large extent, OMA/AMO proposes to expand this capacity through the creation of ‘energy highways’. These main lines split into a network of regional smart grids connected to localized energy sources, which would be overlaid. Extending this grid into North Africa, with its huge potential for solar power generation, would allow Europe to become 100% reliant on renewable energy; fossil fuels would be a thing of the past. Reinier de Graaf Laura Baird Team Rami Abou-Khalil, Vilhelm Christensen, Mira Hettesova, Matthew Jull, Tanner Merkeley, Yuan Tiauriman Partner in charge Project Leader
Volume 25
OMA/AMO has witnessed an increasingly inverse relationship between the level of humankind’s awareness of climate change and the scale of action in response to it. Despite a groundswell of global consciousness, efforts to head off this catastrophe – such as token ‘green’ products, articles and campaigns – do little more than pay lip service to the cause rather than seeking to achieve fundamental change. Architecture is not immune from this criticism, offering a small handful of LEED-certified buildings and meagre green walls, with little regard for the global context. OMA/AMO’s Roadmap 2050, an initiative of the European Climate Foundation developed in partnership with the Imperial College London, KEMA, McKinsey & Company, E3G and Oxford Economics, sets forth a way for Europe to achieve the target of reducing CO2 emissions by 80% by the year 2050. Key to achieving this goal is to exploit the potentials of diverse energy sources in lieu of Europe’s current dependency on fossil fuels. The scenario projects an increasing demand for energy, but proportionally an ever larger and larger share is generated by renewable sources: including biomass, geothermal, wind, solar, nuclear, hydroelectric and fitting out existing power plants with carbon capture and storage. Fortunately Europe is large and geographically diverse, offering a plurality of complimentary terrains for renewable energy generation. It has plentiful sun in the south, wind energy in the north, geothermal energy at the center, and hydropower along the shores. From this point of view, Europe could be seen as an amalgam of
18
"45645261112789"
Volume 25
A reciprocation: During winter, the winds and tides are generated in the north and exported south. During the summer, when the sun is at its strongest in the south, solar energy is exported to the north.
A reduction of CO2 by 80% implies a 90–95% reduction in power, road transport and buildings. The ‘roadmap’ indicates this could be achieved by maximum abatement within and between sectors.
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111"2
20
"34234521115678"
we n e e d t h e m ! ! n b 4 d a w ! r l d e n d s / i t m e a n s s ! m u c h t ! s ! m a n y
Exploring Earth’s Eig hth Continent Bernard Foing* interviewed by Arjen Oosterman
Why do we need the Moon?
Without the Moon the Earth would have had a completely different evolution. For what we know now, the Moon was formed 4.5 billion years ago when an embryo of a planet impacted the young Earth that was maybe 30 to 50 million years old at the time; so in its infancy. It was impacted by a body about the size of Mars, and this created a cloud of debris that re-condensed and formed the Moon. After this impact, the Moon has also continued to influence the Earth through tidal forces – we can see tides on the water but the tides also affect the solid crust of the Earth and generate heating of the crust. When the Moon was formed it was much closer to the Earth, almost twenty times closer then now. And the tidal energy was much larger, so this has also affected the early geological magmatic evolution of the Earth. Later, some four billion years ago there was also a period where there was still a lot of wandering objects in the Solar System like asteroids etc. that were impacting both the Earth and the Moon. We can see the impact from these bodies on the surface of the Moon now, and from this understand that the Earth was bombarded by these objects too; this had created really quite catastrophic conditions during the early 500 million years of Earth’s history. So, from looking at the Moon we can understand how the environment of the Earth was, its early history. This was the period where we believe life on Earth emerged. By looking at the Moon we can use it as a book of history to understand the Earth. Even though the Moon is a little bit further from the Earth today, it still maintains an influence on our planet. Thanks to the Moon the Earth’s rotation is stabilized. If we had no Moon the axis of
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111""
rotation of the Earth would go in all directions and we would have a much more chaotic climate. Actually that is what we observe on Mars. Mars doesn’t have a large moon to stabilize it and Mars goes through periods where its rotation goes in all directions; you have some very huge ice ages on Mars. So clearly, if we had no Moon the Earth would have been different, the emergence of life on Earth would have been different and also life now would be different, and certainly we would not have evolved in a way where we ourselves would be present here. AO
The Moon is our memory?
The Earth is subject to plate tectonics, so the Earth is recycling the material up on the surface on a time scale of 100 million years. For this reason we have lost the memory of the beginning of the Earth, because all this surface material has been recycled and burned inside its mantle. The Moon has kept the memory from this very early time of the Solar System. During the first 100 million years of the Earth’s history, there was a lot of bombardment all over the Solar System, some that could have hit the Earth and ejected rocks that landed on the Moon. So we could even go to the Moon and look for samples of young Earth and find them buried under a few meters of lunar dust, and maybe we could even look for organic materials from the period older than the oldest fossils we have on Earth. BF
AO And what does the Moon mean in terms of resources?
BF We have found minerals on the Moon that we know well. But on the Moon they are in the purest form, less affected by weathering or meta-morphism. (This process is where you have rocks that are really packed at high pressure.) On the other hand the Moon is receiving
Volume 25
Arjen Oosterman Bernard Foing
22
"23423541115678"
fa il u r e / i t s d a e n d ! f d a w ! r l d a s w e k n ! w i t / i t s t i m e i h a d s ! m e t i m e a l ! ne@r
Out There World’s End Nik Dimopoulos and Timothy Moore
To head to the Moon suggests a pessimistic view towards Earth. While it may seem that we are moving on, or at the very least, shifting our problems – duh, the world’s not going to be around forever. There are a phalanx of scenarios of how the worl d could end as we know it. But it’s not a question of how: it’s a matter of when.
22
33
4
5
6
Volume 25
11
4
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./001112"
5
6
32
"345346511162782
de m a n d t r u t h / d a t r u t h i s ! u t t h e r e / q u e s t i ! n e v e r y t h i n g / k n ! w h ! w
S ecret M oons and Bl ack Worlds Trevor Paglen interviewed by Timothy Moore and Rory Hyde
Our vision of p lanet Earth is oft-skewed by accepted grand narratives, which cloak alternative realities from view. Trevor Paglen, artist, author and experimental geographer, visualizes e lements in these shadowlands, from military installat ions to classified rec onnaissance satellites, in order to return the gaze back upon democratic institutions. By combining empirical research with artistic interpretations, Paglen questions the truths told about the frontier landsca pes of today.
Trevor Paglen The black world is a phrase that emerged in the 1980s when the amount of spending in the American defense and intelligence budget reached historic highs. Billions of dollars were being spent on secret programs: on everything from stealth fighters and bombers and weird ‘Star Wars’ space weapon systems, to spy satellites and all kinds of very expensive technology projects. There was an extension of what they called ‘covert operations’, which are paramilitary operations. In the 1980s, this was mostly in Afghanistan and Central America where the American government was fighting in secret. Because this secret part of the state had become so prominent, yet strangely invisible, people in defense and intelligence circles started to talk about something called the black world. There is a materiality to this world so when we talk about secrecy, we are not just talking about secret documents, we are talking about an entire landscape and a geography of secret things. I started to research this world before there was Google Earth, Terraserver or other commercially available satellite imagery. Back then, if you wanted to look at aerial or satellite photographs, you would have to go to government archives. But the US geological archives are incomplete. There are photos that do not appear in those archives. When you go through them, you notice some
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123
are missing. You literally had blank spots on the map. I thought it was an apt metaphor as blank spots allude to European and imperial histories: dark spaces inhabited by ‘dark’ people, places where fantasy and reality became intertwined in some very violent ways. To me, it seemed like this metaphor also worked for some of these military and intelligence geographies because they were also places that we did not have access to, and were marked by fantasies and extreme forms of what we may call informal violence. TM Yet this black world is maintained by infrastructure and logistics. For example, if the military are testing new fighter planes, they need a landing strip. People also have to commute daily to work on these projects. How is it plausible that this black world remains hidden?
TP I am not sure this world remains hidden from our view. When we talk about the way we see, it’s a matter of believing in something and then seeing it. For example, when we look at its architecture, like the National Reconnaissance Office in Northern Virginia, it looks totally unremarkable. It looks like a big office building. Thousands of people drive past it each day and don’t know what it is. That is one form of this architecture. It looks like anything else. But parts of this architecture are more remarkable but hidden in different ways. In the state of Nevada, which is basically a giant desert, the military has a section of Nevada called the Nellis Range, where they have their own country. It’s the size of Switzerland. Nobody is allowed in there. There are other ways that
Volume 25
In a period where the whole world can be seemingly mapped, we still have a plenitude of blind spots. And in this blindness, we can find so-called ‘black architecture’. Can you describe this black world?
Timothy Moore
34
"456457611172832
© Trevor Paglen / Courtesy Galerie Thomas Zander, Köln and Altman Siegel Gallery, San Francisco
Four Geostationary Satellites Above the Sierra Nevada, 2007.
secrecy works as well like setting up outposts in remote parts of the world, like Afghanistan.
Volume 25
TM How does one pick up on traces or signs where the secret world intersects with the world we know?
35
TP If you can describe the borders of it, you can get a negative image of it. Architecture has to interface in all kind of ways. You have to find where those intersections or contradictions are. Then you can perhaps learn something about that world. In Torture Taxi, I looked at the CIA’s rendition program: a program that kidnaps and tortures people. The CIA, and parts of the military, use a civilian cover during these operations. The whole point is you don’t want your fingerprints on it. You don’t want it to point to you. Often you will adopt the guise of private enterprise or corporations to do these operations. The advantage of this is that you are able to hide in plain sight. The problem is, if you are setting up an airplane company for instance, the aviation industry is highly regulated so you actually generate a paper trail in public. One of the things that we realized is that if you could figure out what airplanes the CIA was using for this program, then you could learn quite a lot about the structure of the front companies. You could follow where the airplanes went and that would give you some clues to the outlines of the program’s spatial geography. You collect data points and connect them to other data points. It happened a number of times when somebody got out of one of these secret places and said, ‘you’d never believe what happened to me. I was tortured for the last six months and I was not actually sure of where I was but I think it
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./001112#
was Afghanistan’, and he could give you some details like he was kidnapped at a certain date. Then we find a tail number from one of the airplanes that we have connected to the program landing in an airport from where he was kidnapped from and then flying to Afghanistan.
As an artist, you must end up with strange neighbors. On the one hand, you have the conspiracy theorists who are scanning the skies for UFOs and wearing silver hats. On the other hand, you have the hardcore investigative journalists. How do you position yourself?
Rory Hyde
TP I don’t really hang out with conspiracy theorists. It’s very easy to imagine things into the evidence that you have because the evidence is partial and inconclusive. There is always an opportunity to imagine it as being something completely different than what it probably actually is.
Do you have an agenda? Is there an instrumentality to what you produce?
RH
TP With the visual works, it is about a political epistemology. How do we know what we know in a political moment where it’s unclear what the state is doing? What is the difference between truth, falsehood and propaganda when it’s unclear how to differentiate these things from one another? With the Torture Taxi book, I had a clear agenda. The whole point of the book was to shut the project down. TM And you are trained as a geographer, so there is the notion you are still generating or producing space.
"345346511162782
tr u t h / f a c t / f i c t i ! n / s c i e n c e / c ! n c e p t / i m a g i n a t i ! n
Des ignin g Fiction Julian Bleecker and Edwin Gardner
Fictional futures, such as science fiction, have an overlap with utopian projections in that details of the future are elaborately worked out and founded on well-defined principles. The utopian future, like the fiction future, also deals with social, cultural and societal aspects, but the huge difference is that the utopian perspective is idealized, sanitized and devoid of problems. In the genre of fiction one needs to evoke a realism so that we, in the present, can relate to the fictional future. And while architectural utopia (or dystopia) is static and frozen in time, fiction has a narrative, character, drama, animation, emotion, etc. Through empathy with how characters of a fictional story deal with future situations, we can ‘enter’ that future and understand it in an entirely different way than we would in the idealized utopian perspective. Architecture has had a long fascination with utopia, and the designs and imagery that comes with it. Some designs were built, like modernist plans and the garden city; others remain suspended in the collective imagination of architects, like the metabolist city. Currently architectural visions of the future are increasingly suspended in the image, and all that gets built is the image itself. Architectural futures do not have much to do with working out details anymore. Instead, utopia has been reduced to the point of the spectacular image. Therefore, a practice of ‘design fiction’ can be useful to architectural practice. Design fiction operates in between science fact and science fiction. Design fiction is an interdisciplinary practice; it is something that is often claimed as something architects are involved in, but this is seldom the case. Design fiction works through
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123
a design idea based on narratives, on its embedment in culture at large and not as an isolated object in a 3D CAD universe. What follows is a sketch of design fiction told through a series of anecdotes from the field of computing, or more specifically ‘ubiquitous computing’, a field floating in between the realms of science fact and science fiction. Science fiction is the intelligent extrapolation of the present into alternate futures, futures that have a high degree plausibility and which can be recognized. Interesting sci-fi futures are not just about progress, but about exploring the social, as much as the technological. Design fiction is a practice that operates somewhere between science fact and fiction. Design as a practice of fiction is somewhat different from design proper. The constraints of science are defined by empiricism and positivism. That which is not based on measurement or calculation will not be seriously integrated into scientific discourse, but will remain on the periphery of hypothesis and speculation until proven otherwise. While that which is not there, that which is not (yet) possible is explored by science fiction because design constraints are more flexible and open to interpretation and manipulation than science, design is also confined to physical reality just as science is. Design fiction goes beyond this; it could be defined as a practice of making and creating that which works as an interchange of concepts traveling back and forth between science fact and fiction. In the scientific community mixing up these ‘genres’ or disciplines is equal to blasphemy, or at least frowned upon. People who claim science fact as the practice
Volume 25
The most conv incing lies are those th at stay ‘close’ to the truth, and this is probably true of good fiction as well. If fiction loses all relation to reality, it becomes fantasy or escapism. To m ake good fiction one needs a special relation with truth, reality and the everyday. It is a source, a departure point from which we take a lot – perhaps almost everything – but where we also introduce a novelty. This paradigm is central to the argument of Julian Bleecker and Edwin Gard ner, who call for greater attention to the design of fiction in order to propel innovation in science and culture.
40
"453456311167827
de s i g n e r s t i l l ! b j e c t s # b e t t e r b u i l d a n i d e a
The Polit ics of a Build(th)ing David Smidt van Gelder and Bart-Jan Polman
Due to the lac k of atmosphere, by default the Moon is the ultimate capsular society: a plac e with no outside. This fact draws David Smidt van Gelder and Bart-Jan Polman to argue that co lonization of the Moon is an opportunity to redraw boundaries of what constit utes an interior of a built thing.
What if we were to use life on the Moon as a model for life on Earth? As a start, we need to acknowledge that the Moon lacks the natural elements necessary for humankind to survive. As opposed to life on Earth, constructed ‘things’ are an absolute necessity for any kind of survival on the Moon. And whether these ‘things’ are spacesuits, spaceships or space stations, they share one common denominator: they are all capsules. A capsular system is a precondition for any colonization on the Moon. Capsular, at the same time, is the term used by various contemporary thinkers, including Peter Sloterdijk, Bruno Latour and Lieven De Cauter, to explain the current condition on Earth, both spatially and socially. Yet, while the examples of capsular systems on Earth are manifold, the lack of atmosphere on the Moon allows us to rethink the capsular model on Earth that can possibly be freed from its current critiques. Cap s u l ar ity o n E a r t h
In order to differentiate both capsular models, the existing one on Earth and a hypothetical one for the Moon, it is necessary to understand their respective modi operandi. On Earth, the emergence of the capsular model is the latest step of humankind’s desire to free and protect itself from the natural environment – ‘the Great Outside’. This quest of emancipation, as old as human culture, is spatially accomplished by means of ‘encapsulating’ parts of the natural environment by constructing buildings. These capsules constitute a world of the inside where various aspects of the natural environment are safely kept out and within control. Yet through the
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111#"
construction of buildings a second part of nature is being cultivated which constitutes another social space: the public space. Without borders, the public space is expansive rather than delimited. Paradoxically, defined by man-made boundary, openness is therefore implied in the term ‘public’; it is linked to both man and nature in being a social space that is open to everyone. This conception shows that the concept of public as space not only is linked to the ‘free’ outside, opposed to the more privatized capsules, but is also grounded in the political sphere as a place for exchange. Throughout history, in the continuous quest for control, not only have buildings become capsules, but so have spatial systems traditionally linked to the outside and public space, such as transportation systems. In the arcades (as described by Walter Benjamin) and in the malls of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries respectively, even the street became capsulated. However, being capsulated does not have to involve such literal capsules or interiors. In our contemporary time, as philosopher Bruno Latour suggests, it seems as if the whole Earth can be seen as one capsulated, urbanized form that never reaches its opposite: an ‘uncontrolled’ Great Outside.1 Indeed, within the metropolitan areas of Tokyo, Mumbai or Sao Paulo, citizens move about their everyday activities from capsule to capsule: from business district to mall to community to entertainment center. There is no need to leave the capsules anymore.2 In addition, projects such as Biosphere 2 in the Arizona dessert show that, not only spatially but also technically, the build environment has been emancipated
Volume 25
‘We move from envelopes to envelopes, from folds to folds, never from one private sph ere to the Great Outside.’ – Bruno Latour
52
"234235411156788
New Sov iet People Will C o n q u e r Cosmic Space Deane Simpson and Mark Wasiuta
As the title of t his article indicates 1 , the astronauts of the Soviet space program – cosmonauts – were presented in the national media as revolutionary human subjects that enshrined a space-age communism. Deane Simpson and Mark Wasiuta o utline the theatrics of these cosmonauts that were required for the Soviets to master space.
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123
If the figure of the cosmonaut orbiting the globe presaged the ‘human conquest’ of cosmic space, fundamental to this triumph and decisive revolutionary moment was the engineering of the cosmonauts that took place on the surface of the Earth before and after spaceflight. Characterized as a process of total design, cosmonaut formation encompassed a broad array of techniques and components – many of which may be understood as cosmonautical prosthetic objects – with dimensions ranging from the ergonomic and architectural, to the urban and the social. It is the terrestrial cosmonaut, then, that demands our attention. Divided into two principal techniques of cosmonaut formation, this description will touch upon both the production and the presentation of the cosmonaut as a new cosmic subject. The former entails the techno-scientific production of new performative limits for the cosmonaut through an extensive series of spatiotemporal experiments, and the latter addresses the aestheticized and staged repertoire of official cosmonaut representations. Presenting the New Soviet Person
The presentation of cosmonauts as exemplary new Soviet and cosmic subjects – whether in elaborate public demonstrations or in print, radio, television and film – was a highly orchestrated activity overseen by the upper levels of the Communist party. The efficacy of these pageants, celebrations and media events struck various observers, including the authors of the US senate report on the Soviet space program who note with some envy
Volume 25
With Yuri Gagarin launched into orbit in April 1961, Soviet leadership announced the arrival of an historical epoch equal in importance to the Bolshevik revolution. While the events of 1917 marked the leap from a Tsarist autocracy to transitionary socialism, the conquest of cosmic space, according to Premier Khrushchev, signaled the attainment of ‘space-age communism’.2 Shaped by Cold War technical accomplishment, this era would become identified with icons of the Soviet scientific industrial complex, particularly the satellites, rockets and spacecraft that supported the first spaceflight. Yet for the media and in the public imagination, the most compelling manifestation of this revolutionary age was its embodiment in the form of a new model human subject: the cosmonaut. Although the most prominent identity of the cosmonauts was as daring performers and charismatic media stars, they were nonetheless manufactured products of a social and technical system that aspired, through bionics, biocosmonautics and cybernetics, to generate a type of accelerated human evolution. Indeed, the cosmonaut was conceived of as a malleable, plastic subject in formation, conditioned by advanced scientific training methods and enhanced through coordinated interaction with new space technologies. The cosmonaut appeared at the convergence of the biomechanical, the mythical and the everyday: at once the exalted emblem of a perfected, mature form of the Soviet state, and yet, also, the prototype for a new Soviet person, an everyman with super power.
70
435365731117#8#2
Volume 25
Soviet propaganda posters: Stalin era poster, c. 1940s (left); Khrushchev era poster, c. 1961 (right).
71
the remarkably potent propaganda function of the cosmonauts both on the domestic and international stage.3 The American authors, attentive readers of political stagecraft, were particularly impressed by the coordination between ‘space spectaculars’ involving the tight choreography of spacecraft in orbit and the terrestrial spectacles that celebrated the returned cosmonauts with equally detailed and managed effects. There were very particular roles to be played within the scripts of the terrestrial spectacles. The achievement of space-age communism was framed as a technological revolution with which Krushchev was personally identified.4 Surpassing Stalin’s self-fashioning as the personal patron of Soviet aviation in the 1940s and 50s, Khrushchev portrayed himself as the inspirational mastermind of the Soviet space-age. Yet this identification was necessarily more nuanced than in the case of Stalin. Following the denouncement of Stalin’s personality cult, the cosmonaut could function as surrogate for Khrushchev’s scientific-technical revolution, allowing Khrushchev to be depicted as the benevolent ‘space father’ while the cosmonaut, space-man, occupied the central role both within the public celebrations, and the historical moment. The terms of this representational division of labor were subject to a scripted circulation of cosmic aura, most evident in cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin’s ‘official’ return to Earth at Moscow’s Vnukovo Airport. During the slow moving climax of his return ceremony, Gagarin was publicly embraced on the reviewing stand by Khrushchev
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123
in a hug that lasted for more than twenty seconds, entangling space man and space father. Commenting on the episode Gagarin well understood the symbolic importance of the exchange. He described not only sensing Khrushchev’s emotions, but also feeling the ‘fatherly warmth of his hand’.5 Gagarin continued, presciently associating his safe return from orbit with compensation for the missing return of the Soviet sons and pilots lost in the fight against fascism, an absent population that included Khrushchev’s own son Leonid. Gagarin’s analysis of the event suggested that despite Khrushchev’s declaration of a ‘Peaceful Kosmos’, spaceage communism would be an era of triumphs over new cosmic space and old political enemies alike. Acutely sensitive to this precise subtext, the US senate report frames Khrushchev’s Peaceful Kosmos as a masquerade for a covert militarization of space. Nonetheless, its authors were all too cognizant that the space program and the heroic elevation of ordinary citizens had produced an undeniably positive image of Soviet society and Soviet power. Assessing the theatricality of the Soviet space performances the authors of the report commented on the dramatic use of the cosmonauts as ‘political instruments’. Significant to the politics of this instrumentality was the simultaneous portrayal of the cosmonaut as the apotheosis of soviet heroism and as common Soviet worker, an identity underscored through a kind of pantomime of the quotidian. Typical of this treatment, while acclaimed as the first female conqueror of the cosmos and as symbol of empowerment of Soviet women, official images of
456576351113#8#2
me u 2
S ettling o n the Moon A D e s i g n er Brief Browsing the internet an abundant num ber of designs for Moon settle ments or even complete societies pop up. But we’ve passed the time for daydreaming and SF-imagin ation. Today, preparatio ns for settling on the Moon are in full swing. The time for landing is 2020, or soon after. At ESA, research and experiment focuses on semi-permanent settlement, with an extensive use of rovers and robots, but not without human presence. There fore physical and social c o n d i t i o n s h ave to b e c o n s i d e re d , l e a d i n g to a l l k i n d s of ex t re m e c o n d i t i o n experiments on Earth. Volume would li ke to use the Moon settlement ambition as a reality check on what architects and urbanists can add to the scientific problem solving that is currently going on. So we say: the task is a settlement on the Moon in 2020 for 1,000 people. A team of experts is working on all kinds of tech nical solu tions. You, as an architect, are added to the team. What will you do, what will you bring, what will be your contribution to the project? Settlement is not only an act, but also an outcome. It is the result of social and eco nomic forces that produce the phenomenon village, town or city. Among these are a seden tary society (compared to a nomadic one) with an agricultural economy (an eco nomy at all, favored by good climatic and geographical conditions), a growing population, and surplus. This comes with notions like added value and labor division. It also asks for or produces a market, so the market square, different trade and exchange systems, and so on. The explanation models start from a phenomenon that is there, that exists. They trace back. When we consider new settlements, we have this whole history of experience to start from. But its extrapolation might not bring us full understanding of what the new situation could bring and will ask. Take a settlement on the Moon. The first reflection is to make differences with earthly conditions the center of investigation, proposal and design. Things like extreme temperatures, meteorite showers or availability of water come immediately to mind. But what about sustainability in its broadest sense? Can we envision a form of settlement that is future-oriented? That is not only dealing with the temporary, with survival during relative short periods of time as its main objective? Can we think of being there and staying there without the umbilical cord with Earth? Can we think of planting a grain on the surface of the Moon that can develop into a full grown society, with its own, matching form of settlement, its own urban condition, its own economy? Should we replicate what we have and do on Earth, or will the tabula rasa of the Moon allow for new realities? And if we can, what does is ask? Does it matter not only where we start, but also how we start? Is there something like a genetic code in urban settlement, in its very initialization?
port folio or go to w w w.vo l u m e p ro j e ct .o rg a n d f i l l i n t h e fo r m .
Volume 25
Sen d us your id e a s a n d ref l e ct i o n s a n d we’ l l i n c l u d e t h e m i n o u r M o o n Li fe S ett l e m e nt
130
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111234
345465241112#7#8
From Science to Fiction Igor Kozlov interviewed by Andrei Kaftanov
Russian architect Igor Kozlov was the first architect to be invited to the Moon base div ision of the Soviet space program. After twenty years working in the program until its demise in the 1990s, Project Russia interviewed Kozlov in the year 2000 about his investigations into residential living on the Moon. Volume d igs the transcript from the archive for its first viewing in an English-languag e publication.
I once read a small publication about an American program for the creation of a settlement on the Moon. The very existence of this qualitatively new task engaged and intrigued me. In the evenings I started to fantasize and create my own version of a transformable building on the Moon. Back then there were no orbital stations, only small space capsules like ‘Soyuz’ were used, and I did not like the design of their interiors. I already considered myself an architect and was convinced that even in space architectural design needed to be based on something solid. When I finished the project, I wanted to show it to specialists, but to whom? I was advised to go to A.A. Popov at MARCHI. After looking at my project A.A. Popov said I could copyright my various ideas. He obviously liked the project and told me flat out, ‘If you want, I can help you get a job with the company that is actually working on this topic’. I agreed, of course. On his recommendation I joined the design bureau of general machine building where I presented my project once again, after which it was accepted. In the end I became the first architect accepted into the Moon base division. Strange as it may seem, I was not only the first but I remain the only one. Even later when I had my own work group it included only engineers and designers.
Igor Kozlov
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111234
AK So you had a unique opportunity for creativity. What did you start with? IK I joined an established collective, which, under the direction of academician V.P. Barmin was working directly on the problem of a lunar base. The program consisted of many divisions: energy, transport life-support and so on. I was charged with writing the principles of its architectural design part starting from specific technological parameters, which, naturally, I learned about only at that institute. That is how the concept and then the project arose for the ‘standardized lunar base’. In the beginning there was a lot of temptation to go the route of convertible metal constructions, which would have been delivered to the moon folded up and then put together on site. We dedicated a great deal of time to this but after prolonged consideration we came to the conclusion that at the very least, we needed to reject this principle for the first stage of settling the Moon. By the way, we later learned that the Americans ultimately rejected this idea, too. Therefore we made the decision to build the first lunar base out of standardized cylindrical modules fully assembled on earth and then put together on the Moon. AK What specific task was put to your collective?
IK They proposed that we create by combining standardized modules the most complete and the safest space possible in which twelve people could live and work on the Moon for a year. In order to do this, though, first of all we had to solve certain technical problems related to the delivery of these modules to the Moon,
Volume 25
Andrei Kaftanov Igor Aleksandrovich, you were one of the first architects to address the real problems of designing residential settlements on the Moon. How did you become involved in this?
138
356576251112#8#4
Igor Koslov: Lunar base – 1971. Plan of a living quarter for two persons, with training/ workspace annex sleep/relax space, toilet and communal area with kitchen.
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123"
such accidents a depressurization or a fire in one of the modules. Without computers all these various combinations had to be worked out by hand on cards right at the table.
AK Plus you had to consider the further enlargement of the station for future expeditions and new tasks.
IK Of course, from the very beginning we created an open system fully adaptable to future expansion. Thus even during construction we were able to solve the problem of providing full life support already in the first assembled modules. All assembled modules were to be covered with lunar soil and the station was to be transformed into a hill above with the antennas and radiator panels for the climate control system. The lunar soil would supply additional thermal insulation and protection from the harsh spectrum of solar radiation and small meteors.
AK Was the lack of facades compensated by additional work on the interiors?
IK Imagine a Moon base to be a place where a large collective not only lives for a whole year but actively works. Our task was to create in those extremely limited spaces the greatest possible sense of Earth conditions. Psychologists believe that only this would counteract the negative effects of living in an extreme situation. For me this part of the project was something totally new and therefore of exceptional interest. The main principle that guided us in organizing the interiors was to achieve their maximum mutability in terms of space, color and light. The cylinder of the public space
Volume 25
the most important of which was how to send the entire volume of the station through the atmosphere. The following scheme was worked out: first an ‘N-1’ rocket, specially created for lunar missions, would put the modules into close Earth orbit. But when we learned about the ‘Buran’ (the USSR’s space shuttle) program we decided to wait to use it, designing modules that with a diameter of 4.5 meters based on ‘Buran’s’ cargo capacity. Then we planned to load the accumulated modules onto a transport tug and bring them to orbit around the Moon. There we would unload the modules onto a special landing block and lower them to the surface of the Moon onto a construction and assembly site where the necessary construction equipment would already be in place: a bulldozer, an excavator, and something like a crane for lifting. Among the tasks we were given was a lunar train to design by which the cosmonauts could move around autonomously over the course of several weeks. For this we designed small mobile modules pulled by a powerful Moon-locomotive. In solving actual architectural problems of the Moon base, first of all we worked out a system for combining standardized modules with various functional designations: living space modules, public space modules, laboratories, modules of operational systems and power supply, and so on. We spent a long time searching for the right place for and type of connecting joints in order to insure practically any configuration for the future base. These important elements had to insure, on the one hand, basic access to areas of different functionality and, on the other hand, to insure continuing normal operation of the station even after
142
456576251112#8#9
India A n Evo l v ing Perspective Susmita Mohanty
From a beginn ing beaming educational programs via satellite, the Indian space program has q u ietly developed into one of the world’s strongest. However, unlike most ot h er countries who choose to work together at the International Space Station, I ndia has maintained its independence in space. Susmita Mohanty, co-fou nder of Mumbai-based space company Earth2Orbit, reflects on the historic al changes in India’s space program.
20:31
Not many people know about Chandrayaan-1. Neither do they know that India has an extensive space program that started in the 1960s, or that India is one of a handful of countries that has satellite building and rocket launching capabilities. Why is India going to the Moon? Why is India spending any money at all on a space program when there are so many other problems that it needs to allocate resources to here on Earth? The answers lie in the guiding principle that India adopted when it embarked on its space program. Dr Vikram Sarabhai, a scientist and visionary who laid the foundations of the Indian space program, summarizes: There are some who question the relevance of space activities in a developing nation. To us, there is no ambiguity of purpose. We do not have the fantasy of competing with the economically advanced nations in the exploration of the moon or the planets or manned spaceflight. But we are convinced that if we are to play a meaningful role nationally, and in the community of nations, we must be second to none in the application of advanced technologies to the real problems of man and society.1 In the early years of the program, Dr Sarabhai demonstrated to the national establishment the benefits of a space program through an experiment: he leased an American satellite to broadcast health and educational television programs to inexpensive ground stations throughout 5,000 remote villages in India. In addition
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111234
to space applications, the founding principles also emphasized technological independence. Over the past decades, the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO) has focused on the indigenization of technology in satellite development, rocket development and ground stations. In the 60s, India was still a fledgling democracy and self-reliance was important in establishing India as a viable nation state. Its space program has come a long way. India now ranks among the world’s top space-faring nations; the other countries being the United States, Russia, China, France and Japan. India’s fleet of communica-tion satellites has revolutionized India’s telecommunications, television broadcasting, Direct-To-Home services, business communications, rural connectivity, tele-education, tele-medicine, disaster warning and emergency communications. India now has among the world’s largest constellations of remote-sensing satellites. Through community-based programs, ISRO has been partnering with schools, farming collectives, fishermen, microfinance groups, among others. Space-based value-added services are provided to Indians at the grassroots level free of cost. India’s government space program has achieved significant success in its stated objectives. With changing times, the original perspective seems to be evolving – from ‘impacting lives to impacting Shackleton Crater’. Or perhaps a hybrid perspective is emerging. This hybrid point of view is edgier and bolder, much like India’s newfound confidence in itself due to brighter economic prospects and growing international stature. Indians now want to do both.
Volume 25
20:06
Novemb er 14, 2008 The M oon Impact Probe (MIP) separated from Chandrayaan-1, India’s m oon orbiter. The M IP struck the lunar South Pole in a con trolled manner. It mad e impact near Shackleton Crater, ejecting underground soil that could be analyzed for the presence of lunar water ice.
146
"567562711128934
m ! r e h u m a n th a n h u m a n
The H uman Perspective Barbara Imhof
Last year in 2009, we celebrated the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11 when the first humans landed on the Moon. Next year in 2011, we will celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first human, Yuri Gagarin, to successfully orbit the Earth. When Yuri Gagarin entered his spacecraft, it was the seventh attempt to launch a human in the Vostok capsule. The head of the Russian space program, Sergej Korolyov, set April 12, 1961, to be the date for another 50% chance of a successful launch. Six rocket test-launches had been made previously, during which three of the rockets had blown up. Three official statements had been prepared for the event on April 12: one in case of success; one in case of rocket failure; and one in case the cosmonaut died somewhere between launch and landing. It had also been suggested that Gherman Titov, Gagarin’s back-up, should be first choice as he had no children, unlike Gagarin who had two daughters. Yuri Gagarin had a ten-day ration of food in stock just in case he could not return after the first orbit. He was connected by a radio transmitter to Mission Control throughout his 108 minutes of flight, and also to a monitor to record his psychological stress levels since the risk of a psychological breakdown was high. A photograph taken in the bus on his way to the launch pad shows a pensive man who is trying to grasp the magnitude of the meaning and significance of things to come, and the chance that he is either on his way to his own death or to become a hero. Detailed reports of most early human spaceflights read like thrillers. Although spaceflight today seems a day-to-day business, with people being launched into
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123"
orbit on a regular basis, the risk of failure and human death remains very high. When we set foot on the Moon again sometime beyond 2030, our resources will be limited. For this endeavor, we will have to develop closed-loop regenerative life-support systems to recycle air, water and waste, which will sustain us throughout a long duration stay on the Moon. In addition, we will need to look at the resources of the lunar environment in order to start living off the land. Caring about our resources and developing technologies for new ways of sustainable living beyond Earth will also lead us to a life that is capable of expanding into the future. Although the Moon seems further away than ever due to current governmental space policies, it remains our closest celestial body, an object of fascination for every generation. The Moon also serves as an optimal test bed for missions to Mars, and it is an ideal location for a far-side telescope to look even deeper into the universe. There are plenty of new tasks waiting for intensive scientific investigation. Through renewed lunar exploration, it is very likely that we can increase our knowledge about the universe and ourselves. In order to generate new interest, and again find sufficient financial support, new actors have to find their place in the space arena. A new understanding of space and what space exploration signifies to humankind has to be defined, including the education and inclusion of specialists: architects, designers, sociologists, anthropologists, cultural theorists and artists. In addition, people need to be included in the space programs who have
Volume 25
Designers challe nge to be included in the reshaping of space design because they can prov id e a human touch to highly engineered spacecraft. Earth and extraterrestrial architect Barbara Imhof outlines the contribution architects can make to life up there – with feedback from several astronauts.
162
4565762511157845
ESA/CNES
Volume 25
Claudie Haigneré having lunch on board the International Space Station, during the Andromède mission.
163
the task of conjuring ideas to develop and promote the human perception of space and its exploration. Architects and designers are concerned with the human perspective with every project they work on. What roles can they play in the next steps of human spaceflight and exploration? There are two main areas of contribution. Firstly, space is an extreme and unforgiving environment with great technological challenges. The main technical requirements are mostly delivered by space engineers and scientists; it is this scientific approach that is the prevailing paradigm. Architects need to contribute to changing this paradigm with their focus on the human system. It needs to be treated equally as important as technical systems. Architects and designers know how to join both the human and machine perspectives. Long duration missions on the Moon or to Mars will require a different cultural approach in order not to jeopardize the mission. When a spaceship environment on a six-month trip to Mars creates psychological stressors for the crew, a well-functioning technical system will not solely solve the problem. Therefore in the long run, there is an urgent need to change the conditions of space travel by incorporating cultural aspects – for example, to make the living environment more home-like and comfortable – that will give the space traveller a sense of well-being. Investigation into these matters inevitably draws attention to the technologies needed, but moreover to the physiological and psychological strategies (with their spatial implications) required to cope with these extreme environments.
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111234
There are significant amounts of data on zero-gravity. Particularly, we can utilize information accumulated through the ISS for missions to the Moon and beyond. The answers of Sergej Krikalyov (male, Russian, engineer), Jean-François Clervoy (male, European of French origin, pilot), Chiaki Mukai (female, Japanese, medical doctor) and Claudie Haigneré (female, European of French origin, medical doctor) demonstrate the differences in professional background and culture – important aspects of international crews in all missions to come. Their perspectives constitute a multi-layered input for space designs. What is some feed-back an astronaut can give on design issues, and what is the relationship of a good design with crew performance? There is a connection. On the Russian side, we used to have light on one side, basically light on the ceiling and paint of different colours on the floor except in one of the modules – we saw that in the early assembly of the space station – the Node module, lights shone from different sides and I found that difficult, especially for people who had less experience in space and in weightlessness. After they had worked in a specific area, they turned several times and then when they needed to go somewhere (because space up there is close to being symmetrical) they spent a few seconds to try to orientate themselves to be sure that they were going in the right direction. So I think a good design will help you to save this moment of disorientation. (Krikalyov)1
4565762511157845
-<;E?48;,
!"#$%&''($)"*+
(%+
(&*$F
Volume 25
',-./,$012,$3.0045678$91:8;$48;:.54<;$%<==.$(-2,08$$ 456$,>?,:1,5-,$;@,$;@:100A$;@,$B0.:C$456$;@,$94/,D
182
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./0011123"
"456452611127893
C o l o pho n Vo l u m e 25 VOLU M E Independent quarterly for architecture to go beyond itself E ditor- i n - c h i ef Arjen Oosterman Cont ri b u t i n g e di to rs Ole Bouman, Rem Koolhaas, Mark Wigley Fe atu re s e d i to r Jeffrey Inaba E ditori a l c o n s u l ta nts Thomas Daniell, Bart Goldhoorn, Markus Miessen, Kai Vöckler VOLU M E is a project by ARCHIS + AMO + C-Lab + … AR CH IS Lilet Breddels, Jeroen Beekmans, Joop de Boer, Timothy Moore, Vincent Schipper AM O Reinier de Graaf C- La b Jeffrey Inaba, Benedict Clouette Mate ri a l i ze d by Irma Boom and Sonja Haller VOLU M E ’s p rota go n i s ts a re ARCHIS, magazine for Architecture, City and Visual Culture and its predecessors since 1929. Archis – Publishers, Tools, Interventions – is an experimental think tank devoted to the process of real-time spatial and cultural reflexivity. www.archis.org AMO, a research and design studio that applies architectural thinking to disciplines beyond the borders of architecture and urbanism. AMO operates in tandem with its companion company the Office for Metropolitan Architecture, Rotterdam, The Netherlands. www.oma.nl C-Lab, The Columbia Laboratory for Architectural Broadcasting is an experimental research unit devoted to the development of new forms of communication in architecture, set up as a semi-autonomous think and action tank at the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation of Columbia University. VOLUME is published by Stichting Archis, The Netherlands and printed by Die Keure, Belgium. E ngl i s h c o py e d i t i n g a n d t ra n s l at i o n s David Lee, Timothy Moore, Wendy van Os-Thompson Admi ni s t rat i ve c o o rd i n at io n Valérie Blom, Jessica Braun E ditori a l of f i c e PO Box 14702, 1001 LE Amsterdam, The Netherlands T +31 (0)20 320 3926, F +31 (0)20 320 3927, E info@archis.org, W www.archis.org Subs c r i pt i o n s Bruil & Van de Staaij, Postbus 75, 7940 AB Meppel, The Netherlands, T +31 (0)522 261 303, F +31 (0)522 257 827, E volume@bruil.info, W www.bruil.info/volume Subs c r i pt i o n rate s 4 issues, €75 Netherlands, €91 World, Student subscription rates, €60 Netherlands, €73 World, Prices excl. VAT Canc e l l at i o n s po l i cy Cancellation of subscription to be confirmed in writing one month before the end of the subscription period. Subscriptions not cancelled on time will be automatically extended for one year. B ack i s s u e s Back issues of VOLUME and forerunner Archis (NL and E) are available through Bruil & van de Staaij Adve rt i s i n g marketing@archis.org, For rates and details see: www.volumeproject.org, click ‘info’ G ene ra l d i s t r i bu t i o n Idea Books, Nieuwe Herengracht 11, 1011 HR Amsterdam, The Netherlands, T +31 (0)20 622 6154, F +31 (0)20 620 9299, idea@ideabook.nl IPS Presservertrieb GmbH, PO Box 1211, 53334 Meckenheim, Germany, T +49 2225 8801 0, F +49 2225 8801 199, E Istulin@ips-presservertrieb.de VOLUME has been made possible with the support of Mondrian Foundation Amsterdam ISSN 1574-9401, ISBN 09789077966259
Contributors Julian Bleecker is a designer, technologist and researcher at the Design Strategic Projects studio at Nokia Design in Los Angeles and co-founder of the Near Future Laboratory. Andrea Brennen is a designer, and an editorial columnist for JustMeans. com based in Boston. She is interested in how environmental issues are changing the practice of architecture. Karen Burns is an architectural historian and theorist teaching in architecture and design at Monash University in Melbourne. T h om as Daniell is an architect, lecturer and writer based in Kyoto. Nik Dim op oulos is a graphic designer residing in Melbourne. Alicia Framis is an artist working between Shanghai and Amsterdam. Her latest project Moon Life was the catalyst for this issue of Volume. Caspar Frenken is an architect based in Rotterdam and Zürich. Mark Foster Gage is a founding partner of Gage/Clemenceau Architects, and associate professor and acting assistant dean of the Yale School of Architecture. Edwin Gardner is an architect and writer based in Amsterdam. John Gendall is a New York-based architecture critic. He teaches sustainability studies at Parsons The New School for Design and critical theory at Pratt Institute. Jonathan Hanahan is a designer and educator currently based in Boston. Rory Hyde is an architect, researcher and broadcaster located in Amsterdam. Barbara Imhof is the co-founder of LIQUIFER Systems Group, a (extra-) terrestrial interdisciplinary platform comprising architects, engineers and scientists. She has also worked for ESA and NASA. In 2010, Imhof was invited by Eric Owen Moss to represent Austria at the 2010 Architecture Biennale in Venice. Melchiorre Masali is the retired professor of physical anthropology at Turin University. His research fields include humankind’s physical relationship with material culture and technology (from ancient Egyptians to spacecrafts) and the interaction of the body’s form with gravitation. Francesca Miazzo works as a researcher and communicator in urban development. She is also the director of CITIES The Magazine. Susmita Mohanty is a space entrepreneur who has founded three companies: MOONFRONT (San Francisco 2001–07), LIQUIFER (Vienna 2004-) and EARTH2ORBIT (Mumbai 2008-). She has also worked for the International Space Station program at Boeing and on Shuttle-Mir projects at NASA Johnson Space Center. Educated in India, France and Sweden, she has multiple degrees including a PhD. M ar lie M ul is an artist who works and lives between Berlin, London and The Netherlands. She is initiator of the online artists publication publishing platform www.xym.no and tutor at the Architectural Association. M ust is an office for urban research and design based in Amsterdam. www.must.nl Simon Pennec is a photographer and urban researcher. He is currently working at OMA/AMO in Rotterdam. Bart-Jan Polman holds a Master’s degree in architecture from Delft University of Technology and Columbia University. He currently works for Bernard Tschumi Architects in New York. Irene Lia Schlacht is a researcher in the field of outer space habitats. Since 2007, she has been coordinating Extreme-Design.eu, an international group of cross-disciplinary outer space researchers while working on her PhD at the Chair of Human-Machine Systems at the Technische Universitaet Berlin. In 2010 she was part of the EuroMoonMars mission 1 at the Mars Desert Research Station in Utah. Deane Simpson is an architect teaching at the Kunstakademiets Arkitektskole in Copenhagen. He is a former collaborator with Diller + Scofidio and has taught at the ETH Zurich and the AA London. He completed his doctorate at the ETH. David Smidt van Gelder is an architect, philosopher and art historian. Together with Freek Waltmann he established Buro Ruim, an architectural office that researches the relation between buildings and contemporary societies. Marcus Trimble is an architect and founder of Sydney-based Super Colossal. Tom Vandeputte is an architect and writer based in London and Amsterdam. He is a doctoral candidate at the London Consortium and member of the editorial board of OASE Journal for Architecture. Mark Wasiuta is an architect and theorist in New York City. He teaches at GSAPP Columbia University where he is also Director of Exhibitions.
Volume 25
Disclaim er The editors of Volume have been careful to contact all copyright holders of the images used. If you claim ownership of any of the images presented here and have not been properly identified, please contact Volume and we will be happy to make a formal acknowledgement in a future issue.
184
!"#$%&'()$'&*+,-./00111234
"567562711128943