Bnieuws 54/02 - Change (2020/21) by Bnieuws

B 54/02

Colofon Bnieuws Volume 54 Issue 02 October 2020 Contact Room BG.Midden.140 Julianalaan 134 2628 BL Delft bnieuws-bk@tudelft.nl Editorial Team Christopher Clarkson Federico Ruiz Inez Margaux Spaargaren Robert van Overveld Contributors Jonas Althuis Nathan Kramer Juan Benavides Jack Garay Arauzo Sevince Bayrak Jorge Mejía Hernández Editorial Advisors Javier Arpa Fernandez Ellen Vroemen Cover Editorial team Printed by Druk. Tan Heck

WELCOME 04

10 Camera!

Homo Urbanus: In Conversation with Bêka & Lemoine

The Unchanging Land

BK Talks 1: on race, gender and fairy tales

Safe at work

Hope on water

A Day of Change

The Orange Hall

Get lost

30 Victoria 32

Dear TU Delft

Short story of change

Editorial

CHANGE Today's edition is about change. Change is everywhere and always, but what else can we say than the standard, wide-angle sayings? Let's start with the following idea. There is a famous poet in Holland, Jules Deelder, who wrote a poem about death. We replaced the word "death" with "change", made it a bit shorter, and this is the result:

Change is here Change is there Change is anywhere Change is everywhere Change is small Change is good Change is music Change is sweet Change is necessary Change is hard Change is strong

Change is bad Change is life Change is faithful Change is sudden Change is round Change is Obama Change is wise Change is time Change is you Change is me Change is faith

Change is Trump Change is coming Change is future Change is empty Change is invisible Change is now Change is ….. Change is ….. Change is ….. Change is ….. Change is ……

The last 5 spots are open for you to fill in. Change is a lot of things, many times change is wanted, other times it is the thing we fear the most. Many of us have a problematic relationship with change. There are times that we want to change, let's say when we try to turn frequently exercising into a habit, and fail. Other times, change is forced upon us, and we have hard times accepting it. And then there is also the change of you as a person physically, take a look at a picture from 2015. The latter is derived from the change within the physics department, entropy, which is again a different form of change. If we need to conclude that change is indeed in everything, then we better make sure that our relationship with change develops, improves. We, therefore, offer you this magazine full of articles composed by people who are shedding light on change… for a change. We wish you the most fun reading another one of Bnieuws'.

#Bnieuwd

To do / AFFR AFFR investigates the relationship between film, city and architecture by programming and screening films and by organizing introductions and debate. With the theme Guilty Architecture, AFFR goes in search of the moral dilemmas of our time in a high-profile selection of films and documentaries about city and architecture. The COVID-19 pandemic dramatically illustrates the fragility of life on earth. Architecture, the design of our cities, our relationship to nature are once again called into question. 07.10.2020 - 11.10.2020 Location: Delftsestraat 33, Rotterdam Ticket: 11,50 euro

To do / World Architecture Festival WAFVirtual promises to be the world's must attend virtual architecture festival. Join the worldwide architectural community for a week of live content, special prizes, talks, panel discussions and networking opportunities with peers and our WAF partners. Headline speakers will include Jeanne Gang, Ben van Berkel and Sir Peter Cook. 20.11.2020 -04.12.2020 Location: Amsterdam, the Netherlands

To do / GRAPHIC DAYS This ten-day virtual and in-person event is dedicated to Italian and international graphic and visual design. It will host a programme of talks, exhibitions and workshops dedicated to examining the new interpretation of the archetypes of traditional Italian culture. 01.10.2020 - 11.10.2020 Location: Torino, Italy

#Bnieuwd To do / Encuentro Local Encuentro Local is a digital event that brings together contemporary design brands and new crafts from Chile. The event organisers invite the public to connect with the creation, processes, innovation and new expressions of Chilean design to promote knowledge and cultural development. For five days the work of fifty Chilean designers from a range of disciplines will be exhibited. The event will also host a program of talks, company workshops and child-friendly creative explorations. The theme of the eighth edition is 'unpublished creations' 02.10.20 - 06.10.20 Virtual: encuentrolocal.cl

To read / (w)EGO - NAI Publishers With (w)EGO: Tailor-Made Housing The Why Factory investigates the participatory processes that play a role in housing design. These processes mediate between the wishes of each of the residents of a residential block and help determine the design of their apartments. To achieve this goal (w)EGO explores the possibilities of a certain game process. This game makes use of the specific characteristics of each resident and transforms them into spatial needs. In this way unexpected housing typologies emerge within a truly people-oriented residential building. An interesting read!

To listen / SCRATCHING THE SURFACE Scratching the Surface A podcast hosted by Jarrett Fuller, Scratching the Surface investigates the overlap between design criticism and practice. The extensive database of interviews features designers, writers, critics and educators including Oliver Wainwright, Alexandra Lange and OMA partner Reinier de Graaf.

Latest / INSTAGRAM Keep updated on our recommendations on upcoming events through our instagram account. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t forget that our voice is also yours, so send us or tag us with anything youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d like to share with our followers. Feel free to contact us via instagram or facebook! @bnieuws on Instagram / search Bnieuws on Facebook.

BK Report

DEAR TU DELFT Words Christopher Clarkson

The year is 1842, and you’re excited because the university in town is opening. And you’re especially excited because you’re going to study at it! That’s right, you’re on track to becoming a civil servant in the Dutch East Indies. And it is a great day to be white. The year is 2020, and you’re excited because today you have been accepted at the 2nd best architecture university in the world! That’s right, you’re on track to becoming an architect for the Dutch nation. And it is a great day to be white.

Black Lives Matter, BLM, has shaken the foundations of the American society in the past few months, and we’ve seen it take a stand in the UK, as well as organising large protests in The Netherlands. In an attempt to understand where the institution of TU Delft (more specifically our faculty) stands in relation to the Black Lives Matter movement, and where people of TU Delft feel the institution should stand, I’ve entered into conversation with 6 different faculty members, students and staff alike, resulting in some 16 thousand words of interview material. One of my interviewees, a student, would prefer to remain anonymous. In respecting this request, for the rest of the article, I’ll refer to them by the pseudonym, Petra. Regrettably, interviewing support staff such as cleaners and janitors was not possible due to requiring permission from their employer which is, of course, not TU Delft but some other outsourced cleaning company. Of those that have been interviewed, I aim to leave their comments as intact as possible. In doing so, my own commentary between will be minimal, attempting to tie different conversations together, expand or explain broader concepts, or at times paraphrase for the sake of brevity. I write this, of course, as a white South African… perhaps a kind of walking oxymoron. But nonetheless, I write this as someone who very much

understands the benefits that have come from my skin colour, and as someone who also appreciates my position in writing this article. What’s the matter, exactly? It’s important to first explain why this is a conversation that needs to be had; why it is that yes, also here, at the TU Delft, in the Netherlands, we need to speak about systemic racism. Petra accomplishes this far better than I could: “People think that racism only exists on a conscious level. But systemic racism is a racism that exists on a subconscious level, which is kind of mind-blowing when you think about it because it affects literally everything. The Netherlands wouldn’t be the Netherlands without racism and slavery; there wouldn’t be this sort of stable, prosperous country as we know it today – it wouldn’t exist. Systemic racism is when it seeps into all facets of society subconsciously; without realising it, but there are systems in place that allow that subconscious transition.” Such systems can be more explicit, like in the case of Apartheid in South Africa where ethnic segregation was implemented into the legal system. Alternatively, it can be more discreet like, for example in Rotterdam, where neighbourhoods with mostly non-western inhabitants have a suspiciously

low average income. “So, all of the institutions and businesses that were founded in that period [of colonial power and slavery] that then gave birth to other activities later on they all have roots in slavery and in racism, which enabled them to actually exist.” This is important, because that university which I mentioned in my opening paragraph, the one founded in 1842, in case you haven’t cottoned on is the same university you’re studying or working at now. As an associate professor of Urbanism, Roberto Rocco, explains, “If you don’t understand what this colonial past was, it’s difficult to understand what’s happening in the Netherlands now.”

people as adults at a subconscious level. And so, I think what is especially dangerous is the simple fact that children learn that it’s OK to portray and perceive a person of colour as an idiot that gets punished by the wise clean white guy on a horse. And as a result, later in life, those children will paint the faces of their own youngsters without hesitation unless being questioned. It’s a subconscious kind of logic that is self-perpetuating, which is so dangerous. The fact that the Zwarte Piet discussion only became serious in the past decade is baffling.

The question then of course is, ‘Why on earth is systemic racism as a product of the Dutch colonial past not addressed?’ Petra explains; “If they do expose the really big gaps and the injustices, then the whole system collapses, which isn’t favourable for those who are trying so hard to uphold it who actually have a lot of power in that system.” Indeed, by not addressing the problematic history of the country, it’s easier to create a self-image of an accepting, all-inclusive and welcoming society from which we can build; essentially, by not addressing the cause of our contemporary problem, it’s easier to negate the notion that there is a problem today. Of course, it might not be out of racist intent that these systems are upheld today; however, the intent is not the defining factor here, remember, systemic racism operates at a subconscious level of the masses before conscious decisions are made.

Petra goes on to explain the cause for the lack of conversation revolving around race in general, pinpointing “The one-dimensional history that is being regurgitated for generations,” as the cause. Manpon Manggaprouw, who works at the copie-sjop in faculty also explains how, having grown up in the Netherlands, “From the very beginning we’re not raised with ‘you’re less than…’ but rather ‘You can accomplish just as much as…’ So, we haven’t acquired that mindset from the beginning. At least, acquired- it isn’t drilled in. Of course, over the years you realise on your own that because of your background, or your colour, that you have to work that extra bit harder in order to ‘be able’ to achieve the same.” The Netherlands really doesn’t have an explicit approach to racial disparity, it is almost taboo, but the effects are still there nonetheless. I’ve heard in conversation before that by addressing this topic, it could create a ‘nonexisting’ problem. But, it does exist, and talking about an issue that is present doesn’t make it worse, it brings it to our attention, which is essential for improving the situation.

Let me provide a clear example to explain what I mean; the example is, of course, Zwarte Piet. In our contemporary, globalised society, the things we do and say have ramifications and implications beyond what they might have had in the 1800s, and so of course this tradition is called into question now that external perspectives are involved. Even if you think that this tradition isn’t racist; the influences of childhood experiences are highly influential for

You have reached TU Delft voicemail, leave a message after the tone. When asked about TU Delft’s response to the BLM movement, Petra aptly responded with “There hasn’t really been much… much at all. At the time, I was angry but not surprised. And now, just not surprised.” I found it curious that the TU hadn’t made some kind of statement on the BLM movement, either to show some kind of solidarity

with its students and staff, or, in acknowledgement of its own history. We didn’t even get a black square on Instagram! Jonathan Subendran, a masters student in Urbanism, explained his reaction as having been both surprised, and not surprised, “Sure, you don’t get a message from the dean or president or whatever, but I was surprised to not get any sort of action from the faculty themselves especially those of the ones that talk about spatial justice and things like that. Then you realise, ‘Are these people really connected to what’s happening on the ground or are they kind of just an echoing chamber for academia to talk about social justice?’”

Meanwhile, Manggaprouw figured that “You can’t expect from everyone that they have an opinion on the topic. It would be the same as if I went to my employer or neighbour and asked ‘How do you think I function here?’” Going so far as to say that he wouldn’t expect any kind of statement from the university, also that beyond not tolerating racism he couldn’t see any responsibility that the university should have in the matter. This latter view is fundamentally different from those of my other interviewees. Subendran explained, “I think what a lot of people have learned now is that you just have to take matters in your own hands. You can’t trust or depend on [any] kind of a system that represents you.” Although it is, as Subendran describes, a “systemic issue, which should be systemically addressed in education,” we all find ourselves within the system and hold a responsibility to question it. Rachel Keeton, a PhD candidate soon to present her defence on ‘African New Towns: An adaptive, principle-based planning approach’ comments that “In Rotterdam we say, geen woorden maar daden (“not words, but deeds”). When TU Delft has leadership that reflects the diversity of the student body (and is 50% female), I think it will have made a step in the right direction.” Subendran mirrors this, explaining that, “It’s a bit late for him [The Dean] to

say anything, it’s been too long.” In my interview with Dirk van Gameren, the dean of our faculty, I questioned the reason for the university’s silence. He replied, “You’re the first one to ask that. I had discussions with students but not so much in the sense how should the faculty or the university, board of the university, or deans react to that.” When discussing the university’s hesitation to take a stand, he later added, “I think in general there is a big fear of making a political statement that might upset people.” When making a statement on a political issue, you are making a ‘political statement’. However, by holding a comfortable, complicit silence about a political issue, you are also making a ‘political statement.’ The question that remains is which people does the TU Delft want to upset? White letters on black paper. It might not yet be clear why this is relevant within the context of a university, an educational institution. Subendran gives some insight: “When you’re young, the basis of education comes from like who you’re taught by, what you’re taught and how it’s taught. It all comes down to you know those five ‘w’s that we are all aware of and, I think it’s also difficult because some systems may be not aware of these things, so it comes with these like predetermined biases.” This preconditioning is also brought up by A, arguing that, “You need people from non-European non-white cultures to tell the stories of their cultures, whereas a white European would approach the subject or content with their own kind of preconditioning.” Ultimately it comes down to a broadening of the curriculum, but also of diversification of staff that corresponds accordingly. Rocco believes that “the TU Delft has a big responsibility to [combat systemic racism], especially in our building because we are dealing with society, we are dealing with people. We are going to design and plan the cities of the future.” And he had a

rather positive outlook on the direction we are headed as a faculty: “I think the fact that we have now more and more international students, teachers and also subjects helps bring new perspectives and new knowledge and new ways of looking at architecture and spatial planning. I think it’s a many-legged issue; we have more students that are from different countries, we have teachers from different countries, and also the university has become more global. So, the university is looking at global problems. That also helps to change the mentality.” However, suppose what Petra says about how we should be learning about different spaces from the perspectives of people from those places, holds any ground, then the fact that “We have an architecture faculty without a single Black professor,” as Keeton points out, presents a problem because we’re tackling global problems from a non-global set of preconditioned minds. When asking Subendran about the notion of White Industrial Saviours, he elaborates on how, “Maybe it’s the Architecture and built environment Faculty, but you get this impression that, ‘you come here to learn from us, you learn from us because we are the experts.’ and it’s like this neo-colonial act of saying that, we are on top of everyone.” Subendran later expanded on the complexity of the situation, acknowledging that at the end of the day, the university is run by people. The university itself is a brand, a name and so on and so forth, and although it needs to maintain its branding for its public image because it represents more than an individual, it holds a responsibility to broaden its perspectives and ensure that everyone is taking account for their own perspectives. Rocco also points out that the TU Delft can definitely be doing more, “of course we can wait and hope things improve and we can wait for people who are different to come to our university [but they often don’t] have the means, or the ability. We could also have a more proactive attitude by inviting people to come. That would be interesting.”

Dirk van Gameren was in complete agreement: “I completely agree. We had last year Marina Tabasum from Bangladesh as a guest professor, we set up collaborations in Africa, inviting people from Africa. So, I do think it’s happening… I know it’s a difficult discussion. But we are based here, and we should really discuss and know about our own legacy. Also, the bad parts…” He correctly supposed that perhaps in my eyes things were not happening fast enough, but it’s understandable in a place like the Netherlands that things move slowly. Subendran also mentioned the difficulties attached to such massive bureaucratic controls and implementing change. What do we want? Having established the problems on a societal level, and how they impact our education, I was curious to hear what the faculty believes to be potential solutions: Keeton brings some crucial points to the foreground; “In terms of BLM, I think a major challenge for TU Delft is in de-colonising the education it offers. That means some big changes to the curriculum and much more attention to how it educates (teacher training, etc.).” Subendran also explains that should the faculty implement some kind of change, it would be wise to not exclusively act in a top-down fashion but really have the dean empower students, create opportunities for students and staff to be listened to. At the end of the day if the faculty is run by us, then it should in part be made with us in mind or with our input. Keeton continues, confirming this by explaining how “Systems premised on structural racism are often held up simply because they are already in place, and people are too busy to question them. Right now, we are challenged to question everything. And the people to consult are the BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour) who have been historically marginalised in this debate.” Which is echoed in part by Rocco, who says that we should, “Try to understand what is decolonisation of knowledge, and what are different ways of looking at architecture from different perspectives, and so on. I

would like to see more debate on the relationship between social justice and architecture.” As Subendran explains, “The TU is such a wellpositioned school globally that means people are going to come to you if you want to have a huge series about Race and Space at the intersection of race and academia so why don’t you use your power and use your outreach to for these types of issues you know on a more action basis?” Petra describes a more self-reflective nature, calling for, “Acknowledgement of their [the university’s] own position in racial affairs and more accountability, how did the TU Delft come to be the TU Delft? Accountability and showing a willingness to grow and to learn but also actually doing that … I think in the teaching field, diversification could be really valuable also in the course work and the types of architects you look at […]I think it would broaden up our perspective of how people actually live.” 08

Subendran also explains an issue experienced in teaching style, in which “there’s no questioning of the actual system itself so, it sneaks by this heavily political and kind of like governance type of questioning, but it’s more about using the existing conditions. Doing that is just like a band-aid type of solution.” This essentially addresses symptoms as opposed to structural issues, such as Petra describes, often the cause of disparity, or the wealth of the Netherlands isn’t disclosed in earnest Keeton continues, “‘Diversity’ and ‘inclusion’ are thrown around a lot, but so many studies have shown that multiple perspectives strengthen the resilience of an institution. And that is only from an employer’s perspective. I am sure that systemic racism influences the experiences of BIPOC students at TU Delft, and it is up to us to investigate how it does and do better.” Keeton goes on to point out how “We are one of the only schools of architecture without a department or even a chair focused on ‘urbanisation in the Global South’ or ‘informal urbanisation’ or ‘rapid urbanisation’, and this has to

change. The cities of the future will be in the Global South, and we fail as educators if we don’t prepare the next generation to face this reality.” When I confronted the dean about such matters, he explained that “It’s only started happening [in our faculty]” And I suppose naturally, also explained by Rocco, as a technical university it has until recently been reluctant to engage with the social sciences. After confronting the dean on these matters, he is mostly in agreement, confirming that, “We have to open our eyes to all these aspects of history.” And, having specified the lack of perspective in the all-Dutch bachelor’s programme, I was pleasantly surprised to hear that, “We are in fact looking at the bachelor curriculum and we will also look at these aspects. I think that already the scope of the horizon in teaching has broadened enormously.” What is being done? This brings us to the near end. Where I’ve tried to gauge the efforts of the faculty in regard to combatting systemic racism, stacked up against the wishes of the interviewees of the previous chapter. For starters, Subendran describes his own initiative which is introducing a space to discuss racial justice in relation to the built environment: “TU Delft being such an incredibly diverse school and with people from all over the world, there was no top-down or any sort of systemic suggestion to address this situation in a real way, so that was a bit disappointing and I think in these types of situations you have to take matters into your own hands and the first thing is to organise, so we tried to organise a collective of people interested in discussing and learning, and sharing knowledge […] I don’t think the built environment profession has caught up yet in terms of engaging in these discourses, so that’s what I find frustrating, but also kind of motivating to create a platform or a discussion place to do this type of stuff and that’s why we initiated this ‘Race and Space Task Force’ to kind of bridge our professional discipline. We don’t know what it is yet,

but I think that’s the beauty of the process is to start to define what we want, you know start to see if it’s about, demanding of the faculty or even the university to address certain points or, whether it’s beyond race it could be regarding the gender balance within the faculty or why we have such a diverse student body, but we don’t have such a diverse Faculty body.” Subendran describes his own initiative which tries to introduce a space to discuss racial justice in relation to the built environment. He explained that due to the TU Delft’s lack of top-down address, he set out to organise a collective of individuals interested in discussing and learning from each other. Despite the disappointing lack of discourse around these matters in the built environment, Subendran explains that this was also what motivated his initiative. Rocco speaks about two projects of the TU Delft which he is a part of, namely: Delft Global, looking at problems of the Global South; and Delft Design for Values, a platform that advocates the explicit discussion of values in design, in which one of the values discussed is diversity. I would encourage you to look into these if you were previously unaware of their existence (such as myself). And lastly, the Dean, Dirk van Gameren discusses possibilities of what is to come, and what is being done: “[Adapting the curriculum] has more impact [than making a statement]. Because we can make a statement and it’s something we will certainly discuss with the board and the deans. It’s, of course, a discussion that’s already going on for years as well.” “The idea is with the ‘BK talks’ that we are going to start to have some debates, this [Systemic racism and BLM] will obviously be a topic. It also made me conscious again that we really have very little public discussion about these issues, even before the BLM movement ‘started’. It was already [present], but now I think the urgency is much clearer. I also

discussed last week with a group of people, but in the wider discussion about diversity and inclusivity what kind of faculty are we. Do we actually take these issues seriously in the sense that we can have more discussion about what it means and what the impact is or should be on our faculty? So, the TU has recently appointed a new ‘Diversity officer’ [David Keyson]. That’s a very top-down thing, but I think that’s important and we are also looking here at attracting someone who is in our faculty who can play a role in initiating but also in giving continuity to a discussion and a debate about these matters. And also observing what is happening and advising me as a Dean and the faculty as a whole.” Dear TU Delft, If you’re listening, I genuinely believe that the student and staff body as a whole want change, and so it will happen. Get ready for it. How fast change happens will depend on the student and staff body. The things we find disappointing in our education must be called out; as students, that is our duty. The things we find to be one-sided should be exposed; as teachers, that is our responsibility. Perhaps you think that this is not the business of a faculty, and by having these interviews, I’m simply guilt-tripping the dean for something he never did. But that’s not my aim; I think the fact that our dean is keen on implementing more discussions and debates and understands the importance of a diverse faculty goes to show that he’s already aware of the points being made here. You can sit and wait… maybe in ten years we’ll have a black professor and we can pretend to be proud; but I’d encourage you to push for what you believe in. Email coordinators of history classes, write manifestos, read a book, and engage in dialogue with your fellow students and colleagues. Sincerely, Christopher Clarkson

BK Report

CAMERA! Words Robert van Overveld

Imagine that someone would place a surveillance camera next to your house without communicating anything to you. They even decided to use your house as an energy supply. Believe it or not, our dean and his team faced a similar situation four weeks ago.

For those who haven’t seen yet, there are newly placed cameras in and outside of our faculty. The inside cameras were always there, but have been renewed. The outside cameras are new and are used to make sure everyone is keeping their distance. This is a decision of the integral security department of the university. A total of eight cameras have been placed looking over the places of the campus where crowd forming is most likely, for example, at the Bouwpub. The cameras are connected to a central security post, and in case someone violates the distance rules, a guard is sent to make sure that the distance is indeed maintained. 10

Our faculty was all but amused seeing these cameras, as faculty secretary, Amber Leeuwenburgh explained to me. The faculty decided this summer that corona is something that we solve collectively, and surveillance cameras would not add to the solution. Without any prior communication from the higher-ups it came as quite a surprise that the faculty is being monitored. Not to mention this location seems a bit redundant, since guards are standing next to the entrance. Long story short, for now, our faculty has decided to leave it be since the cameras aren’t worth the fight. The university’s FAQ explains that the cameras are placed to protect the health of the students, staff, and visitors. Plus, the cameras are probably temporary. In two months, the cameras will be evaluated to see if the campus is a safe environment and if they can be removed. Behind the good intentions that are probably at the base of this decision, there is a complicated discussion about cameras as many of you may realise. We could talk about the implications for human behaviour. Still, before we start doing that, an even more important question should be asked: Are they effective in what they are supposed to do here, decrease the spreading of corona? Studies show that cameras can be useful in some scenarios, but when it comes to crime, for example, it seems that’s not the case. Cameras in Chicago only made up for 0,05% for the solved crimes from 2006 to 2013 as the Chicago Tribune reported in 2013. That percentage seems to connect to the results

of the cameras inside of the faculty. A stolen laptop hardly ever returns to the rightful owner, as Amber explains. As for the cameras that are placed in the streets to prevent corona... Given the weight of this topic, the argument that the cameras are at least not worsening the spread of the virus seems insufficient. We all realise that the solution does not come easily, but the current situation is like this: the campus is marked as a safe zone, but students are infected anyways because outside the campus they still meet in big groups. It reminds me of these parents that forbid their child to drink alcohol, with the result being that their child drinks at someone elseâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s place. That fact that students would still meet outside the campus is something that could have been expected. That was the most significant risk from the start. The position of the university is pretty clear here, the only thing that could have been done is stressing that what was at stake: the availability of the campus. Given that the Erasmus University in Rotterdam did not open at all, the attempt of the TU Delft to remain open can be praised. But in the end, the span of this privilege was always going to depend on the attitude of the students. To end this article, one last thought. The other day, a student was asked to get rid of his cigarette by a guard. When he asked how he knew that he was smoking, the guard pointed at the camera pole. It is already becoming clear that these cameras are useful in many situations...

Berlage x Bnieuws

HOMO URBANUS: IN CONVERSATION WITH BÊKA & LEMOINE Words Juan Benavides & Jack Garay Arauzo

Following Bêka & Lemoine’s remote lecture “Homo Urbanus,” part of this semester’s Berlage Keynotes, they took a moment to speak with us, reflecting on their work in the wake of the pandemic, on the moving image as a medium for architectural representation, on proximity and intimacy in the filming process, and thoughts on some magic keys.

Juan Benavides: Given the current situation we’re facing, could you elaborate on the impact of confinement and travel restrictions on your work? Louise Lemoine: We spent the year investigating this question of proxemics—the study of the human use of space within culture—an idea based on Edward T. Hall’s book, The Hidden Dimension. It was already in the air, the idea of analyzing the space that we define for our body in the city and the distance that is flexible within the boundaries of culture, the distance I allow you to enter into my physical space; this question of proximity and anonymous proximity that exists in big cities. Ila Bêka: At the same time, I'm not seeing a very big difference between the pre-pandemic and the post-pandemic in the sense of proximity. It should be very different because we have to be attentive and careful about staying very close to other people. But the density of the number of people living in the city is the same. It's a kind of illusion to think that we have to be far from the other, it’s not possible. Mentally, we are changing the idea of proximity. But physically, I don't think it has changed. The only change that we see is the mask and not always and not everywhere. But something is changing in our minds.

Jack Garay Arauzo: Does the usage of the face mask bring a new idea of intimacy to the street—a space that one can hide behind? L.L: Proximity has an ambivalent meaning. We can be 30 centimetres from each other but I will not look at you and you will not look at me, but I will feel your body in a very unpleasant proximity, which happens a lot in big cities. This doesn't mean a mental or psychological intimacy. In our films, we try very much to align the two: physical and psychological proximity. JGA: Do you want to be invisible as filmmakers? L.L: The last film, which was just released less than two weeks ago, Tokyo Ride, was shot with Ryue Nishizawa from SANAA (we know him quite well because we made a film about the man who lives in the Moriyama House). This new film captures Nishizawa in his little Alfa Romeo. It's sort of a road movie in the streets of Tokyo, and it's about him, but it’s less about him than about the way he lives in Tokyo; the places he likes in the city, some of his projects, but mostly about his consideration of cultural connections and differences between the Occidental culture and Oriental culture. It was really difficult to push forward this idea of self-control when you are filmed because you are highly

conscious that you have a certain role to maintain. I.B: The best way to be invisible is to have a CCTV. We can make a beautiful film with just hidden cameras that capture real life. We often talk about the image, but we want to know what is behind it. But to do this, you need to be like psychologists and know which door to open and you need the magic key. JGA: Speaking about opening doors and magic keys in the context of Moriyama-San and Koolhaas Houselife, could you tell us about your first approach to document the life inside these canonical buildings? L.L: The situations in both are different because they have been made with ten years of difference. Koolhaas Houselife was our first film together. At that moment, film in architecture was not developed. Today, it is a field that is growing rapidly. We really felt that there was something to do, something urgent which was to open the possibilities of how to represent iconic spaces such as the house in Bordeaux. This was sort of an experiment. We thought that the representation of architecture was suffering severely from an incredible limitation. Film is a tool of mediation and communication, and understood that image is the main media of our knowledge in the sense that architecture doesn't travel, obviously, if you don't have the opportunity to go to Japan or France to see a project, you know this project by an image. Maybe [you know it by] a floor plan but mainly by image nowadays. There was a need to break the absurd and weak ways of representation in the house in Bordeaux. In the case of Moriyama, we didn't feel the same need of breaking the rules of representation. Moriyama-San is such an exception. He is someone who is in such an intense connection with his project and he never uses these architectural accomplishments as a social status or as a self-representation. You're totally seduced, that's why we made the film.

I.B: What is interesting in cinema, compared to the production of space, is that we are able to observe in a sensitive way. In our teaching, the big effort is not learning how to observe—because there's a lot of manuals on how to observe the rhythm of life in the street—but how to develop your sensibility. You can find love, you can find money, you can find everything. You can find happiness, just because you are interested in it.

The Berlage x Bnieuws presents conversations with leading practitioners and thinkers invited to speak at the faculty as part of the Berlage’s public programme. Bêka & Lemoine lectured remotely on September 10, 2020, as part of the Berlage Keynotes. Organized and hosted by the Berlage, the series is part of the Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment’s Thursday evening public program. This fall semester, speakers include Baukunst, Béka & Lemoine, Theo Deutinger, Flores & Prats, Adriaan Geuze, Gigon/Guyer, Piovenefabi, and Studio Gang.

From the editors

THE UNCHANGING LAND Words & Image Federico Ruiz

Dream Take a large piece of land. Then, eliminate any possibility of having a reference point, erasing differences and making every part the same as the next one. No landmarks, no remarkable moments; a seamless sea of similarity, boredom embodied in a horizon. That is the Netherlands for me.

disassemble the tent, load bags, ride, take a picture of those sheep, have lunch on the road, ride again, spell my name to the person in the reception, reassemble the tent, shower, wash clothes, venture to the closest town, buy food, have dinner, endure the curious stares of twenty Dutch families, inflate the sleeping mat, sleep. Start again.

Hypothesis One thousand kilometres of Dutch landscape show no sign of change.

Evidence collected: pictures, taken on the side of the road.

Experiment Equipment: road bike: nine kilograms; tent, clothes and spare parts: eleven kilograms; two bottles of water: one point three kilograms. Distance: One thousand one hundred and thirty-six kilometres travelled in 14 days. Regions visited: all of them, except for Utrecht, Flevoland and the overseas islands. Daily routine: Wake up, eat breakfast, dress up,

Observations Flatness. Stand in almost any corner of this country, and you will see the same: a ditch, a cultivated plot, some farm animals, a row of trees in the distance, one or more engineering works, a church tower and a small town. Unifying everything, the flattest of horizons. Omnipresence. There is always some element that locates our body in a cultivated land: be it a forest or the remotest point of the dunes, it will always find a way of announcing itself in the distance. The

impossibility of being far away, makes it impossible to be alone.

thousand years is remarkable. Is this good? Is it bad?

Modesty. Even if there is no space for loneliness, there is a constant feeling of being lost. There are no distinctive traits, no recognisable accidents. The Dutch, with their reluctancy to stand out, have managed to infuse that modest spirit into their landscape.

Blindness. Probably, all this experiment is nothing but nonsense to the average Dutch: that is because she or he can see and feel the nuances and subtleties I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. When I observe a flatland, I see nothing: fenlands, polders, peatlands, they all look the same. I guess this is because I was raised to confront the colossal geography of my homeland, Colombia. For me, nature always presents itself as a shot in the face.

Demonstration One hundred pictures of Dutch landscapes taken during the trip were superimposed and merged into one single image. The result is a meta-landscape of the Netherlands, a purified and synthesised version of it. Conclusions Boredom. The most impressive thing about the Dutch landscape is how incredibly repetitive it can be, unapologetically. Its ability to hide, through engineering, the changes it has undergone in the last

Reading. The Dutch landscape asks for a meticulous beholder (and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not one): as in a painting by Bosch or Brueghel, the dramas of everyday life are small and meaningful details happening on a stable background. In this way, trees, streams or fields are the signs of a landscape that only makes sense when read as a book. Meaningless sensuality has been left behind some dike, and we all pray it will never flood this land.

BK Report

BK TALKS 1: ON RACE, GENDER AND FAIRY TALES Words Federico Ruiz

On the 24th of September, the first BK Talk took place, the first in a series of debates organised as part of the public programme of the faculty. The event, titled “We matter: Designing the inclusive world” and organised by Stylos, revolved around the themes of the inclusion of minorities, both in the design of the built environment and the Faculty of Architecture.

When I first arrived at the event, I was struck by the title and the description of it. It lacked any explicit mention of the words “race” and “gender,” meanwhile the word “matter” (with all of its implications) was there, neutralised with an uncompromising “we”. As much as we want to believe that “All lives matter,” reality has shown that such equality is still a fairy tale. Some acknowledgements must be made in titles, especially if they pretend to attract those who usually don’t feel part of that hegemonic group we call “we”. With this in mind, my colleague Christopher and I went to the Orange Hall as part of the audience. To my (pleasant) surprise, the introduction began with the organisers of the event explaining that the goal of the debate was to start talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and to “figure out what to do with our slavery history but also the cultural challenges globalisation has brought us.” Ultimately, the title was more a problem of branding and institutional etiquette than one of content or intent. After this, the speakers were presented: Lyongo Juliana, an architect and director of OZ Caribbean in Amsterdam, Amy Thomas and Roberto Rocco, both teachers at BK, Anagha Yoganand, a graduate

student of the Building Technology track, Aart Oxenaar, director of education of the faculty, and David Keyson, a teacher at the faculty of Industrial Design and recently appointed Diversity Officer of the university. Although it is disappointing to have to acknowledge the whiteness of the panel, and the teacher to student ratio, the speakers present seemed to be either well informed about these themes or at least interested parties. For the sake of brevity, I have reorganised some of what was said around specific themes of interest. For a more complete rendition of the debate, readers are welcome to access the recording with the code provided at the end of the article. Is the Netherlands, and its cities, inclusive? “If I enter a room, they won’t think I’m the architect, I can be anything else” said Juliana when asked about the consequences of his skin colour in his life as an architect, both in the Netherlands and Curaçao. During the whole two hours that the event lasted, he was the most active and eloquent of the speakers. His insights of Dutch society, always accompanied with analogies and personal anecdotes, helped make clear that racism is still a thing in the Netherlands. For instance, after recalling other experiences of exclusion and differential treatment, he mentioned how even being regarded as a “serious

thinker” is a challenge: “Sometimes I’ve had clients, or people I work with, that have difficulty to accept I would know the answer or see a problem that they don’t see.” During the second half of the discussion, a new round of reflections regarding the Dutch way of dealing with differences was started by Oxenaar. While talking about diversity in the faculty, Oxenaar explained how it produced both a negative confrontation and a positive increase in perspectives and possibilities, and then mentioned the Dutch pillar system. It didn’t take long before Juliana commented on this: “The Dutch way of thinking is very much in pillars; the zuilen. But what I want to see happening is that we stop thinking in pillars. […] [This way] of thinking in the Netherlands […] is still so much present at this moment.” In this same line, Roberto Rocco commented on how the pillar system “is really not helping. Because you tolerate, and tolerance is important, we need tolerance, but we need recognition, respect and we need to like other people. So, like other cultures, not only tolerate them.” One of the proposed ways to do this has been the implementation of diversity quotas in institutions. The speakers also had something to say about this. Institutional quotas About the decision (now reversed) of TU Eindhoven of hiring only women as professors for the next two years, Amy Thomas mentioned how “many women were actually quite upset by it, because of this fantasy that we’re hired on merit. It is a fantasy, because [of] the implicit bias”, she said, before adding how in order for a woman to have a voice in a hiring team, there need to be at least 30% women on the team. “I think quotas are good, I think they are corrective,” she concluded. Later on, Rocco criticised the argument against quotas according to which that system won’t allow for “the best people to be here”: “That argument hides the fact that there are structural injustices in the world that don’t let

the best people be here. In order to correct these structural injustices, we need to make an exception and make differences for people to come here.” Even if everyone agreed upon this theme, the reasons for working for diversity were diverse, and I would like to focus on one. Diversity and productivity Halfway through the presentation, David Keyson, the newly appointed Diversity Officer of the university, presented his vision for the future. Given the short time he has held this position, he could not say much about concrete actions towards a more inclusive university. Perhaps his bolder statement was that, after a survey on well-being, they could observe that some faculties were showing forms of discrimination. From there on, he mainly focused on the inclusion of women, while LGBTQ+ and race were almost absent. However, what struck me as concerning, was his view on diversity mainly as an enhancer of productivity and product quality. For instance, he said that “there is a lot of misconceptions about the value of diversity. ‘Oh, yeah, you have to do it because we’re a diverse society, so therefore we should have diverse companies and diverse universities, etc.’ […] There is actually very strong academic proof that [as a result of being diverse] the actual quality of the research is much better, and the output, also in companies.” This is problematic, as it is a position that blindly assumes the notions of productivity that are currently established in academia. I believe that part of diversifying any environment also asks for the questioning of the standards of excellence and efficiency that rule it. Even the standards by which those things are measured need to be challenged. As said by Thomas in the introduction, “if we want to teach in an inclusive way, we need to reappraise the kind of values and norms that we have at the moment.” So, what can the faculty, and architectural education in general, do in this sense?

Architecture (education) and diversity In the beginning, Juliana illustrated the need for a different way of confronting difference with an example that also related to academia: “When I was in university, I made water turquoise, and the teacher told me that ‘water doesn’t have that colour’ and I said ‘Yes, for me it has that colour because I grew up in the Caribbean’. He said ‘No, water should be grey’. And it’s those little things that we need to change.” In a similar line, Yoganand mentioned how, despite language working as a bridge between different cultural backgrounds, other students and teachers wouldn’t “know what to value. It’s not their fault, it’s just that they don’t know. So, it’s about that awareness”. So, what to do? Thomas mentioned the need for a task force in charge of questioning the structure and contents of the academic programmes of the faculty, as well as training in diversity for the staff. Juliana focused on the need for a “proper education in history” that doesn’t skip the chapter of Dutch colonialism. Towards the end, Yoganand proposed a platform

where students could have a voice and talk about their experiences.

When the event came to an end, I felt I was left with more questions unanswered than answered. This is, perhaps, a characteristic of any good conversation. Nonetheless, I felt that, somehow, all the discussion revolved around over-diagnosed problems. We know very well that something is not fine. And yet, as you read this, we have a university that has not been able to keep up with its times. If still torn about the topic, perhaps the words of Bezawit Zeryacob Bekele, a student of Building Technology who intervened during the debate, could make things clear: “The fact that it excites me to see another black student should tell you that TU Delft has a lot of things to work on.”

You can watch the debate in this link:

From the editors

SAFE AT WORK Words Inez Margaux Spaargaren

Safe at work, in public and transit. Just as airport security in the Netherlands was permanently changed after the threat of terrorist attacks, the public environment will now have new procedures to protect users from infection and disease.

Disinfectants will be available in entrance halls, toilets and stores. In some cases, standard temperature checks and wearing masks will become the norm. In the office, surfaces, handles, bathrooms and areas of frequent contact on chairs and sofas will be cleaned regularly. Rituals such as handshakes, friendly hugs or welcome kisses are no longer be accepted. Moreover, going to work while you are ill is unacceptable. Nonetheless, working from home every day cannot become the norm; human contact is hard to resist. What will be the impact of the sudden change in the workplace by COVID-19? Due to the virus, it is necessary to regulate physical office contact as much as possible and take measures in the design of

workstations. Employees will feel safer while working if they are protected through adjustments of the work floor. These modifications should prevent further spread of the virus, but avoid creating a barrier in the workplace and workflow. Examples of changes may include internal flows and transit zones that need to be modified to provide enough distance on the work floor. The occupancy of office spaces must also be reduced, for example, by introducing work from home. If working individually is not feasible, physical teams of 2 to 3 employees could be formed. Moreover, the distance between two employees on the work floor should always be 1.5 meters. Where possible, screens and room dividers could be used to ensure the distance.

"The expectation is that we will have to keep this up for a long time to come, whether this will have a stimulating effect on the work atmosphere is a question. The screens and mandatory walking routes provide a distant way of working. The atmosphere in an office changes from inviting to grey. The 'homemade' screens and distance solutions will ruin a pleasant working atmosphere. As a student architect, I wouldn't be happy about this, and my preference will lie with working from home".

The creation of this new work-life balance is crucial for the changed standard of living. Many companies, teams and employees have been forced to work remotely in recent months. This involuntary experiment showed that through technical solutions, it is still possible to work productively in teams and alone. Working from home creates a culture where monitoring productivity is accepted, and if there is a lack of productivity, it will become more transparent to the company. A significant side-effect of this is that employers no longer have an excuse for not letting employees work from home. Most employees have experienced the quality of a work-life without commuting and with more time for loved ones. However, employees long for social contact, for example, a chat on the shop floor. "This social chat is one of the factors why people around me crave to go back to the faculty. Social contact has never been more important. There are an awful lot of people whose only option is to go to the supermarket. Of course, this is not enough for people. By nature, social contact plays an important role in a person's well-being. I am now referring to the rules/agreements that are made. We have to think about this social necessity". Working from a distance has a direct impact on the new balance. Working from home can reduce density in an office, but also creates the need for more interruptions during homeworking and

distractions from private life. In addition to an office to which one can go as a break during the working week, it is also essential that a home office can be present. Assigning a place in the home with the right physical necessities, such as an ergonomic office chair, can ensure that an appropriate distance is created between work and private life. "Walking in the open air before work can already create a distance between when work starts and when private life ends. But it has become clear that not everyone can make time for this kind of rituals to start the day. Or that it might not be possible at all. The employer can play a role, especially since effectiveness at home is now just as important as in the office. The right supplies and suitable spaces must be available to everyone. It should be possible to indicate that one decides to work from home or to rent a flexible workplace. Such a flexible workplace could be a solution for employees who are not able to work from home. Besides, a flexible workplace is automatically equipped with the necessary equipment and supplies. For employers, it is a development that offers a solution for both parties." For some employees, this time will be remembered as one of fear of failing relationships, financial crises, or loss of loved ones. Even for those spared from such suffering, the collective trauma may lead them to radically rethink how they want to live and work in the future. Some will crave conventional choices, such as regular employment in a formal workplace. Another group will be attracted to riskier options that offer more independence and personal freedom. Employers will have to face challenges and encourage change positively. Whatever the outcome of this crisis, our ways of working, like many other elements of our lives, will never be the same again.

Spotlight

HOPE ON WATER Words Sevince Bayrak

Pandemic has unveiled the fact that it is essential to have an adequate amount of open-air areas for the whole population, that is homogeneously spread in the city. Pavements that people can walk without touching each other, parks and squares that let the elderly and kids spend time outdoors safely... For us, architects, it is not easy to turn this crisis into an opportunity but pandemic gave us the capability to reclaim public space.

For architects and urban planners, the 20th century had been a period of discovering how public space is crucial for city life. They were the vigorous advocates of squares, boulevards and plazas where people stroll through the city enjoying modern life. As the century goes on, architects’ passion for public space becomes even more clear and the concept of buildings becoming an extension of public space was more popular. The main idea was simple: Bring more people together. Let them meet in your buildings, if not in the extensions of your buildings that are already acting as a public plaza. However, towards the end of the century, while cities were rapidly becoming global financial hot spots, it became harder to recognize architecture’s affection for public space. Though the millennium brought groundbreaking examples like Oslo Opera House or Wyly Theatre, where either rooftops or basements were cuddling up the public plazas, in reality, public space in big cities is being threatened by privatization. Persuading a client to leave the half of the constructible property for a square as in the case of Pompediu or to dig through a bank headquarters to create a public plaza like in HSBC headquarters in the 70s, is now even more arduous. Then the pandemic happened. Once in a century. Life stopped, the show that has to go on, suddenly

ended. It is a global crisis that forces every aspect of life to be questioned, and architecture takes its share. It has to be re-examined. But how? Is it possible for a profession which has been rallied by magnetizing people to suddenly adapt to the “new normal? Reconsidering architecture from a perspective full of socially distanced people requires to rewrite the main contemporary urban theories from scratch. However, looking from a wider perspective pandemic lets us think more about the public space itself, that it is a right, not a privilege to be in reach of free, open-air public areas. In cities where they have enough accessible open-air areas, people can stay outside and still be safe while in denser areas, like in the case of Istanbul, elderly and kids were under lockdown for months. Pandemic has unveiled the fact that it is essential to have an adequate amount of open-air areas for the whole population, that is homogeneously spread in the city. Pavements that people can walk without touching each other, parks and squares that let the elderly and kids spend time outdoors safely... For us, architects, it is not easy to turn this crisis into an opportunity but pandemic gave us the capability to reclaim public space. In the case of Istanbul, like many other big cities such as London, NYC, that are under the influence

of rapid privatization, pandemic gave us a dreadful reason to reclaim public space, with a louder voice. However, before the pandemic, there has already been a threat of another disaster in Istanbul, that requires a demand for public space as well. Since the city is on an active fault line, it is expected that an earthquake over 7 magnitudes will likely to happen in the next decade. The last earthquake that was generated by the active fault 20 years ago was in a small city very close to Istanbul. After this big earthquake in 1999, Istanbul took action and announced around 500 public areas, where people can get together after the disaster, put tents etc. But thanks to the rapid transformation of the city, most of these areas have been privatized in the last decade, and there were only 77 of them left in 2017. Our project Hope on Water was initially triggered by this fact. We started with the idea of reclaiming the public gathering areas. The main objective of the almost absurd image of a post-disaster living unit, sailing on the water, was to take attention to one point. Why do we have to build post-disaster housing on water? What happened to the land that was already allocated for this purpose? They are privatized. So we designed Fold&Float, a foldable floating post-emergency unit, initiated by the idea of reclaiming public space. Meanwhile, in the university, we started an inter-disciplinary design studio on this subject, with architecture students from MEF University, and civil engineering and sociology students from Bogazici University. With our colleagues Ayfer Bartu Candan and Emre Otay, we investigated how it would be to live on the water, surviving after an earthquake. Working with students from different disciplines, initially, it was tough to convince each group of students, why we have to work in collaboration with other disciplines. In general, architects are keen on considering that they are capable of overcoming any type or scale of problematics.

< Folding and Unfolding Capabilities of the Shelter

Model of the Shelter

However, disasters and crisis require collaboration more than any other topic. Not only because they are complex subjects, but also they include social and physical problems at the same time. Though the process was challenging, at the end of the semester the interdisciplinary design studio was successful and studentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; work was exhibited in the 4th Istanbul Design Biennale curated by Jan Boelen. Since the topic was about a disaster, it was much easier to collaborate on a vital issue, where each discipline needs others to survive. Urgent situations such as earthquakes or pandemics will not all of a sudden change the way architects and designers work. But at least, it will let them think more about a city where each neighbourhood has easy access to open-air green areas, wider pavements for a safe time outdoors. By doing speculative projects on real issues like Hope on Water, we use urgency as a megaphone, to make our voice louder about our demands for a better city.

Founded in 2007 by Sevince Bayrak and Oral Goktas, SO? is an Istanbul-based studio focusing on design, architecture, and urbanism. In collaboration with student association BouT (@ bout_tud) and their publication Rumoer (@rumoer_bt), Bnieuws has re-edited and printed this article.

Pen Pal

A DAY OF CHANGE Words Jonas Althuis

Based on real events.

Mia awoke in a cold sweat. A bad dream, she thought to herself, struggling to remember its contents. She felt a cold breeze on her skin, coming in through her open bedroom window. It was still dark outside. Wondering what the time was, she rolled over to her left side and tried to go back to sleep, but sleep did not come. She thought of her mother, who she had not seen for four years. Mia wondered if her mother still looked the same as she remembered her. 24

Unable to return to sleep, Mia put on her clothes and walked silently to the kitchen. The clock on the kitchen wall told her it was almost eight in the morning. She started heating up some water to make coffee as she heard her father start to get out of bed in the other room. It had been long since their apartment on the Auguststraße had felt as home. These days it felt desolate and empty, the furniture aged quickly by the lack of cleaning and maintenance. Looking at the kitchen table, Mia remembered how her mother would pick flowers, putting them into glasses around the house to liven it up. Her mother had been taken by the police for attempting to flee from East Berlin to the West where she had family. Though her father worked in the government, he had been powerless to help her. Mia still worried about her every day, but knew there was little she could do. “Good morning,” came her father’s voice from the

< Image: National Geographic Society (ngenespanol.com)

dark hallway. The light flickered on and illuminated her father’s silhouette, who walked into the bathroom. Mia had lived in the apartment her entire life, something of a privilege, as many of her friends and their families had been forced to move throughout the years. Her father’s position at the foreign office had secured her parents this apartment many years ago, before Mia was born. Fifteen minutes later, they were eating in silence at the kitchen table. Father didn’t talk about his work much, but Mia could easily tell when he was concerned about something, often as that was. “It’s all changing”, he said, trying to stifle a tone of elation in his voice. “First Poland, at the start of this year, Hungary after that, then the Baltics”, he paused. “And the demonstrations in Leipzig of course… perhaps finally,” he stopped abruptly, clearing his throat. It was her father’s job to be well informed about what was happening in the countries of the Soviet bloc, though he was strictly forbidden from talking about this outside of work. Mia had watched the protests in Leipzig a month earlier on the television and vividly remembered how police had responded violently, arresting thousands. “Please be careful today Mia,” he said as he got up and put his plate on the kitchen counter. Mia knew that her father shared her mother’s dream of living a free life in the west, though he didn’t like talking about it. Ever since mother had been taken, her father seemed to be paralyzed by fear, fear of losing his job, being accused of treason and put in prison. When her father had left for work, Mia got ready to

leave too. It wasn’t uncommon that her father had to work on a Saturday, it had been a very busy year. Mia would meet her friend Stephan at the Schendelpark at nine and then walk to the crossing of Mollstraße and Prenzlauer Allee, where demonstrators would meet. She tried to convince herself it was a good thing that she was up early, but she felt tired from the restless night. The walk to Schendelpark was not far, but it was a cold morning. Mia was happy to see Stephan waiting there for her, she would have been nervous to wait on him there by herself. They walked together past Rosa-Luxemberg Platz towards the meeting point, where groups of people were already gathering. There was a quiet tension in the air. People were chatting softly amongst themselves in nervous excitement. By ten o’clock, four of Stephan and Mia’s friends had joined them. The crowd was getting bigger and bigger, there were now hundreds, maybe thousands of people, filling the crossing. Many carried signs or banners, with one word showing up often: “Freiheit.” Stephan had made a sign too, saying ‘40 Jahre sind genug’ in bold letters; 40 years are enough. It was at the 40th anniversary of the GDR where so many protestors had been arrested a month earlier in Leipzig. Slowly, the mass of people started moving towards Alexanderplatz. The outside air no longer felt cold, and Mia’s nerves had turned into excitement. She had expected to see more police, though she knew the government had granted permission for the demonstration. “I bet they didn’t expect this many to show up”, Stephan said, clearly in awe at the amount of people around them. The crowd at Alexanderplatz was so big that Mia could barely see the podium at the front. As they tried to shuffle through the crowd towards the podium, Mia noticed the Fernsehturm looming over the massive square, observing stoically. At eleven, the first speech started. Mia recognised

the first speaker as Marion van de Kamp, an actress she had seen on television. Her friends had explained to her how much of the demonstration had been planned by actors and other artists, many of whom were political activists. Mia recognised several of the other speakers; there were politicians, writers, professors, and artists. The contents and attitudes of each speech differed but the underlying demand was clear: democracy for East Germany. Suddenly, there was booing from the front of the crowd. The boom of the booing grew larger, thundering through the square. A man wearing a long black overcoat had stepped up to the microphones on the podium, carrying a stern look on his face. Trying to maintain his serious demeaner through the boos, the man started his speech. Mia recognized him as Günter Schabowski, the man who hosted the daily television conferences broadcast by the GDR government. The crowd was not impressed. At two in the afternoon, the speeches were over. The energy of the speeches had been fantastic, and Mia felt inspired. “It’s over,” Stephan started, “what a day!” Mia felt the same way, deeply moved by the fearless speakers she had listened to today. Seeing so many people come together in one place with a shared purpose was awe-inspiring. There was cheering all around her. She couldn’t imagine a more important place to be in that moment. In a way, what the demonstrators were demanding was simple, democracy and freedom. But these two concepts meant so much more. They represented emancipation from 40 years of fear, oppression, injustice and suffering. Mia thought of her father, a shell of the cheerful and caring man he used to be. She thought of her mother, who she would finally be able to see again, after four heart-breaking years. Overcome by emotion, Mia wiped the tears of joy from her face. “It’s not over yet,” Stephan said coldly, “it’s not over until the wall comes down.”

Her friends looked at him in earnest, knowing what he had said was true. The city seemed to be holding its breath for the following days as protests continued in other cities across East Germany. Mia was confident that the demonstration at Alexanderplatz had been impactful enough for something to change, but she also knew that the GDR regime would not go down easily. Every evening at 6 pm, Mia watched the press conference held by the GDR. Every evening it was Günter Schabowski, reporting on various topics and events in East Germany. Mia watched eagerly, hoping, but nothing came.

On the evening of the 9th of November, five days after the demonstration at Alexanderplatz, something different happened. Most of the press conference had been uneventful, but as it was coming to an end, a reporter in the back of the room asked about rumoured changes to travel regulations for the citizens of East Germany. Slightly fazed, Schabowski searched in his bag for a document, returning a piece of paper which he scanned through quickly. He then said nervously, “This comes into effect … to my knowledge … at once.” The press room erupted in chatter. A reporter in the front then asked, “Also to West Berlin?” Schabowski’s answer: “Yes, people can leave the GDR also directly to West Berlin.” Mia was shocked, not sure if she had heard correctly. She ran to the phone to call Stephan, who answered excitedly. “Did you hear Schabowski?” Mia asked, “What does it mean?” she continued. “I don’t know,” came Stephan’s voice. “Let’s meet tonight.” He said. It was just past 7 pm. Mia met Stephan a few hours later at the western end of the Torstraße, where they followed the Hannoverschestraße to the Invalidenstraße. Looking to her left, Mia could already see a crowd of people gathering. Beyond the crowd was the tall watchtower of the border crossing. Mia knew that behind this border lay the Sandkrug bridge, and on the other

side of that, West Berlin. Mia and Stephan walked towards the crowd. There were people carrying signs and chanting, just like at Alexanderplatz five days ago. Mia could hear chanting from the other side of the border as well, coming from West Berlin. “There’s people on the other side too!” Stephan said, endeared. The border guards did not seem to know what was going on. One guard was talking frantically on the phone in a small office next to the barrier, looking desperate. Mia and Stephan waited with the growing crowd for several hours. The guards initially resisted the crowd of people, standing their ground, but now it was nearing midnight and they looked exhausted and nervous. Members of the crowd were starting to test the guards, inching closer and closer to the barrier. Mia was afraid the guards would shoot at people that got too close, as had happened so many times in the past decade. Worn down by the intimidating chants of the crowd, the guards gathered to discuss. After some deliberation, several guards walked towards the big wooden barrier that separated East from West. They slowly moved the barrier out of the road. An eruption of excitement came from the crowd as it started moving toward the border, eagerly crossing the Sandkrug bridge where they were greeted by West Berliners. Mia was overcome by emotion, grinning joyously. East and West Berliners were greeting each other all around her, shaking hands, hugging, and sharing drinks. “We’re in West Berlin!” Stephan yelled with excitement. The energy of the crowd was immense. It was a surreal moment as Mia felt a sudden rush of hope and excitement for the future. She would be able to see her mom again, and her family would be reunited. She would be able to live a better life, free to pursue what she wanted, free to express herself, free of fear.

Insta Question

THE ORANGE HALL Words Followers @BNIEUWS

We posed a question on Instagram stories: If our followers (you) could change the colour of the orange hall, what would it be? We received many answers, and the verdict is in. The favourite colour for the Orange Hall is:

Thanks to: Yellow!! @job_vlak, Green @herrlimburg, Pink @bing.vdm, Black :) @r_a_g_, Magneta @lydia_giokari, GOLD @oliviapenguin, Pink @animamina, Light gray! @shaileeo, Royal blue @iris_lpr, Black! @pietertilman, Light blue with dark green @floortje.fauna, Golden @f_ruiz_c, A very light shade of green. So light, youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d notice after studying at bkcity @stavorius, Blue @louisahollander, Reflective silver / mirror @ elina.gaillard, Light green or dark blue @marieke_russchen, (Persian) blue :) @t_uran, White @annas_archiv, Sea blue @noortjekemme, Bright Yellow @evegeleynse, Blue @ lisa.kappers, Purple @chr1s_clarckson, Green @dirtydorien, Yellow @ramounsen, Hot pink @nrtjwnnk, Sky blue @ben.vierkant, Navy blue (like the Belgian pavilion on 2018 Biennale in Venice ;)) @anna_shish.kina, Inchyra blue @hidde24, Pink! @inezmargaux, Lots of country flags per three stairs @oscarlnowak

Pen Pal

GET LOST Words Nathan Kramer

Cities are full of surprises, mostly pleasant, sometimes unpleasant or even boring. All these elements combined form a complex whole, which is hard to grasp for the human mind. Relying on your phone to get around in this complex whole, however, leaves you with a shallow image of a city. I think that it is nowhere comparable to the experience of inhabitants, which bothers me. Therefore, I would like to introduce you to the concept of “getting lost”.

In this age of GPS navigation, the act of getting lost has itself been lost. Think for a moment about the last time you genuinely ended up somewhere without knowing where you were. There are many forms of being lost and the perception of what it means undoubtedly has changed over the years. The availability of an all-knowing device in your pocket, the amount of information around you and the extensive network of public transportation, makes being lost less serious. Bringing being lost back to the old days is quite complicated in a world where information is all around you. So, how does one knowingly get lost? There are several strategies, but this is the one that worked for me: 1. Find a vague indication of where you want to be heading, preferably by bike. The first game I played was cycling from Delft to a village a bit outside Delft. For a higher chance of getting lost, consider a residential, not touristic location. In the case of Delft, this could be Maasland, Bergschenhoek, Monster, etc. 2. Don’t look at maps! Not during your attempt, not beforehand, never. Additionally, avoid looking at signs. This will be quite hard, but you must try. They just give too much information away. However, bring your phone with you anyways, just in case things actually get out of hand. You’ve succeeded when you come to a point where you don’t know how to get back and have the slightest clue of your location. You will find out that the more you play this game, the more difficult it becomes to get lost. Once you get familiar around a particular place, the chance of getting lost drops drastically. In that case, you will have to go to even more alien places. The world is your oyster at that point.

The first time I tried to get lost, I aimed for Berkel en Rodenrijs, but in that area is not very challenging to keep track of where you are. So I kept going and ended up in Rotterdam, which seemed not very challenging either at first. I tried again, until the point that I was almost lost. Almost, since I noticed a somewhat familiar railway bridge in the distance. The train station in Rotterdam-Noord. Damnit. It took another 30 minutes, but eventually, I succeeded: I was completely lost! It happened somewhere around the Insulindeplein in Rotterdam, after taking a â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;wrongâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; turn. It is a weird feeling, one of distress and joy combined, but boy, I sure was glad. What to take from this? I think that we are so used to moving around in a city with a purpose, that weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve lost the skill of looking. Being lost forces you to look around with all your senses and therefore opens up a whole new world. It makes you vulnerable but connects you to your environment at the same time. So next time you are in a new place or city, you have a choice; do you take the standard way of moving around, or do you challenge yourself with an adventure into the unknown?

Nathan is a third year bachelors student at BK, and a regular contributor of the magazine.

Artefact

VICTORIA Words Jorge Mejía Hernández

‘Artefact’ is a recurring two-page spread, which features a beloved object presented by one of the BK City staff members. Every month, the ‘Artefact’ contributorship is passed on someone new. This months’ artefact is from Jorge Mejía Hernández, who is a professor in the chair of Methods and Analysis.

One of my earliest childhood memories is a tradition of extended lunches with family and friends, after long and complicated preparations which often required that meat or corn were minced in a massive steel grinder, anchored to the kitchen table. It was described as a mill (molino, in Spanish) and linked to a default brand: everyone called it a “molino Victoria” – a manufacturer from the city of Medellín. With time those lunches became shorter and simpler. Houses shrank, older relatives passed, some of us left, and electric food processors superseded the simple mechanics of the grinder. Its makers, however, kept refining their metal-craft. Decades and thousands of kilometres away from those lunches, I found evidence of their efforts, serendipitously, walking along the Haagse Passage. Staring at me from a shopfront, a beautiful cast iron grill pan, akin to the sturdy old molino yet much more elemental. “How old is this?” I wondered –the pan was close to a comfortable 3kg in my hand. “How many people, how many trials and errors did it take for it to arrive here?” Unless a revolution severs a long-lasting lineage, outstanding instruments (think of knives, tables, bicycles or smartphones) are second-nature to us; perfect solutions to perfectly defined problems. Like with land or water, working on such elemental objects demands immense humility and focus. Rather than radical change, evolution via piecemeal adjustment is certainly possible, but depends more on patience, discipline and love than on mere creativity. It is minor yet profound improvements that usually turn the apparently banal into a source of revelation. Unlike others of its class, the way low heat is distributed in this basic Victoria grill-pan reveals the miracle of cooked food, raising awareness of physical and chemical transformations in raw ingredients and their effects on our senses. The revelatory properties of this object, developed by two or three generations of a family focused on their craft, are both the memory of traditions past, and the promise of a new tradition of extended lunches with family and friends, currently in the making.B

From the editors

SHORT STORY OF CHANGE Words Inez Margaux Spaargaren

Now that my days are longer, I find myself more often messing around in my room until late at night. I'm then busy giving my belongings a place to stay. As a student, you would say that you don't have a lot of possessions, yet over the years, four now, I've collected quite a lot. In my bedroom, you will find several artistic expressions and old interiors, made by or received from the most beloved people in my life. Like an old cigar chair, or works of art made by my mother and taken over from my grandmother's house. Besides these, there also several smaller and larger souvenirs from far away travels, ranging from cushions to lamps.

These beloved interior expressions give, each in their own way, a grip, especially now that everything is online. Most of my housemates study at home every day, believing that they will be able to go to the university library again. One of them, Emma, concentrates on drawing and painting and watches Netflix series every evening in self-quarantine. After sundown, we all drink our tea, in silence, or pleasantly chatting, as if we have been away all day. My housemates like my bedroom: "It's like a library, can I study here?" I'm often told. They study in the same room every day, rolling from their bed to their desk. Of course, that's different when you're not a student. Then people sit undisturbed working in a study or living room. Working in the living room is not an option for us. The 'common room' is for everyone, and it is the only place where we can go crazy and shake our legs. Not a study space, for sure. Me What about me? I hold on to shifting, cleaning up, and tinkering with the interior. I move plants, furniture, and other objects from one corner of my bedroom to the other. I screw together a wooden pallet and lie outside in the alley, sunbathing. I think my behaviour is strange because over the last four years I was never very attached to my beloved interior. Now every little corner in my 20 square metres feels more attractive to me.

< Image: 'library at home' @inezmargaux

Become a pen pal! We are always searching for new voices to join and contribute to Bnieuws. Whether your talents are in writing, drawing, photography, graphic design, or youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re filled with a range of skills, we would love to hear from you if you have any ideas for the faculty periodical. If you would like to be on our contributors list, simply send an email with your ideas to bnieuws-BK@tudelft.nl

Next issue: 03 DIGITAL SPACE As architects and urbanists of this world, we focus on physical forms. However, the digital interwove itself into the fabric of our day to day existence in just a few decades time. If this trend continues, we might start talking about it as something independent and self-maintaining. A second, digital world. Are we, architects, going to be designers of this digital world? Next edition: DIGITAL SPACE. Bnieuws 54/03 release date December 2020.

Bnieuws INDEPENDENT PERIODICAL OF THE FACULTY OF ARCHITECTURE AND THE BUILT ENVIRONMENT TU DELFT VOLUME 54 ISSUE 02

Bnieuws 54/02 - Change (2020/21)

Articles inside

A day of change