DRAWING TIME NOW Amsterdam Academy of Architecture
DRAWING TIME NOW Amsterdam Academy of Architecture
Landscape needs time to grow. Landscape is always changing. Drawings for landscape projects often neglect the issue of time and we have no effective solutions to represent them. The PhD research being carried out by NoĂŤl van Dooren, landscape architect and former head of the landscape architecture department of the Amsterdam Academy of Archtecture, focusses on this issue. This workshop is about representation: can we depict time in a smart and appealing way? The research speculates on introducing the score, inspired by choreography. We will test the possibilties of the score and compare it with other notation forms. The workshop started on January 25th and ends on February 1st 2013. A seminar on drawing time forms part of the workshop. In this report you will find the results of the workshop and many other information and inspiration.
About Drawing Time Now
Carina Mist Try Express The boundaries of flower hills You plant a stick, We grow a forest Locomotion Story Scape The Growing Line Spade into the dirt
Noel van Dooren David Kloet
From January 25 to February 1 2013 a design experiment took place at the Academy of Architecture Amsterdam. This was initiated by Noël van Dooren, research fellow at this Academy, as part of his PhD research Drawing Time. Both current and former students – 24 in total - from several schools, disciplines and countries participated. This is a report on the workshop. It contains an introduction to the theme of ‘Drawing Time’ by Noël van Dooren. City planner Maurits de Hoog introduces the site and the design problem the workshop was about. Participant Hannah Schubert kept a logbook during the week as she was invited to write an article for the Dutch ArchiNed site. Thanks to ArchiNed we could re-publish it here. We show the results of all the groups. To conclude, Noël van Dooren reacts on the results. As the design experiment was part of a PhD research project, the results will be integrated into his final product. But as that may take another year, this is a preliminary insight into a vibrant workshop – the process and the products!
Noël van Dooren Workshop supervisor and research fellow at the Amsterdam Academy of Architecture.
ABOUT DRAWING TIME NOW
The question I wanted to have answered by this design experiment was: Can we draw a score? Now this is a deceptively simple way of putting it. Drawing a score only make sense if you know what a score is, and most people don’t. If you did happen to know, then the next question might be: Why should that be important? To explain the necessity of the score, I have to say something about my PhD research, of which the design experiment is a part. For that reason, it was called a design experiment, to distinguish it from a ‘regular’ workshop. My PhD research, titled ‘Drawing Time’, started in 2010 and will be ready (cross fingers!) at the beginning of 2014. In this PhD research I asked myself how landscape architects today deal with the issue of time in their designs, and how we can see this in their drawings - or not. My underlying statement is that time is an important issue and that it would be good if we could see it in our drawings. Time is present in our discipline in many forms, ranging from the seasons to strategic development and temporary programmes. Probably the iconic example is the tree that grows: we plant it when it is small, but we draw it when it is mature. Stating that time is important and should be seen in drawings as a rather disputable and personal statement. My research tries to objectify this: how do landscape architects think about time; how does this influence their projects and can we see this in their drawings? To answer this, I interviewed some 35 offices each for half a day on the themes of time, representation, landscape and professional practice. In doing interviews and collecting drawings, I came to the conclusion that there is an incongruity. My colleagues confirm that they highly value time in landscape, and that it is rather absent in drawings. It is not that there are no drawings with time in it, but you will find only a relatively small number. I heard two reasons. One is the daily business with its banal restrictions like ‘the client does not ask us to do so’. The second one is the lack of a theoretical basis. In our system of representation, there is no specific drawing type that strongly invites us to draw
time, in the same way the section as a representational type demands a specified projection of the designed object. As a consequence, we are not taught to draw time in landscape architecture schools, and there are not many good examples of how to do so. So I came up with the idea to organize a design experiment. In that context, we could overcome the restrictions of daily practice. I could position myself as a client wanting to have drawings with time. In the best scenario we could generate examples of how it can be done. In the worst scenario no good examples would come out, but at least we could evaluate what happened in trying to do so. In itself, there was no need to integrate this initiative into a PhD. It only complicates matters! But wouldn’t it be marvellous if research like this ended with suggestions for new possibilities? A design experiment should be seen as part of a structured series of exercises that generate promising material. A student workshop allows the problem to be tackled in groups, with different backgrounds, prompting inspiring discussion and exchange, providing me with a number of final results that invite evaluation and comparison. It was against this background that I asked the Amsterdam planning service if they had a challenging design problem to offer that would allow us to reflect on time issues in landscape. They came up with the suggestion to work on the extension of the Westerpark/Westergasfabriek. That seemed promising to me, as it raises interesting design questions on the nature of parks and how to represent them which comes back to the iconic tree planted when small but intended to be a mature giant. The design problem of the Westerpark also inspires one to think about the more strategic aspect of how such an extension could be realized in time, knowing that money is sparse and the contribution of numerous partners is necessary, all with their own ambitions. One of the tricky aspects of this workshop was the tension between a challenging and complex design problem and the unusual exploration of drawing and representation. We tried to solve this tension by starting with a seminar on landscape, time and representation, in which the actual site had no importance. Then we invited the participants to concentrate specifically for two days on the site, in order to arrive at a pragmatic concept to approach the design question. Next, an early decision had to be taken on what sort of drawings to make in the rest of the week. This had very much to do with the difference between presenting a design and representing design ideas. In a design experiment like this it makes no sense if the groups only started to think about ‘how to present this?’ during the last two days. Suppose you want to try out animation? The animation film becomes just as much a matter of sketching, correcting, testing and refining as any other part of a design. One important assumption was this: any time-based drawing might consume a lot of time if it is to reach the same level as a beautiful plan drawing, collage or perspective. More than that, in struggling with such a drawing one might want to reconsider aspects of the design. Creating a time-based narrative implies a clear understanding of what happens at certain moments, who is involved and the spatial implications one has to take account of. This is where we come back to the score. The word ‘score’ has lots of meanings, but I understand it as a notational technique, taken from choreography. It is the drawing which explains what a dancer has to do, when and where. The score as a representational concept came to me via Lawrence Halprin, an American landscape architect active after World War 2. As he was married to choreographer Ann Halprin, he knew this representational tool very well and he tried to apply it in his landscape work. He succeeded at least in inspiring me to give a new interpretation of its potential use. For me the intended meaning of the drawing is: who is doing what, when and where? We have no other representational type which is exactly fitted to answer this question. And that is exactly the reason why I think my quest for the score -or any time drawing- is valid: it pushes us to think through our design in such basic questions as who is doing what, where and at what moment? Answering that question may be very relevant in our discussions with the client and the public, but it certainly is for ourselves, as part of the design process.
Patricia Bijvoet Maurits de Hoog Amsterdam Physical Planning Departement
STRONG CITY â€“ SMART HARBOUR Amsterdam is growing and welcomes every month about 1.000 new Amsterdammers. Further growth is predicted. It means the city needs to stimulate the development of new or intensified urban living areas. The IJ waterfront, with its wide views, the industrial inheritance and the city centre on walking or cycling distance, turns out to be highly attractive for an urban mixed-use atmosphere. These qualities are proven by former transformations along the southern IJ banks like the Oostelijk Havengebied and the developments along the northern banks, like Overhoeks, Buiksloterham and NDSM. The Houthaven (former timber port area) is right now being developed as a residential waterfront site, but transformation further westwards is difficult. Here starts the Amsterdam port area, still fully functioning as an industrial site. Development into a mixed-use area would destroy an economy that is also of great importance to Amsterdam. Therefor a long-term gradual development strategy is being designed, called Strong City-Smart Harbour. TRANSFORMATION STRATEGY Main step in this strategy is the decision to shift the focus away from the direct waterfront towards the inland side, the Sloterdijken. An autonomous transformation process has already started around the business-station Sloterdijk, developed in the early ninetyâ€™s and due to the real estate-crises now in a process of revitalisation. By taking care of better connections between this area, the city and the waterfront all will have the benefits of it. In the next 20 years about 9.000 new houses can be added to the city. Here enters Great Westerpark the strategy. As a partly unpolished diamond, a green area, bigger than the famous Vondelpark, lays in between Sloterdijk and the Waterfront.
Top: Westergasfabriek area Bottom: Westerpark, IJdike and cemetry Sint Barbara
GREAT WESTERPARK This green area is partly well known for the 19th century park and for the former gas factory Westergasfabriek, that since its renovation 10 years ago, has become an international hotspot for cultural events, but further on, the area is highly unknown. That hidden part is divided and disconnected by railroads, the former railway yard and by a huge complex of allotment gardens, most of the time closed for public. The business and industrial area Sloterdijk 1 borders on this green, but doesnâ€™t have a lot to offer to the city stroller. Never the less, some are hopelessly in love with the site because of the hidden beauty of elements like the steep and old IJdike, former border between see and land, the Sint Barbara cemetery, the relicts of 12th century meadows and the hidden mint-plantations, harvested by the Turkish population for all cafes in the city centre. And, for who knows the way, there is the ecologically diverse bike road that connects the heart of the city to the coastline, through the so called Brettenzone. One crucial side of this green unpolished diamond is the former railway yard. Former railway yard The west side of the yard is in use of through trains, but the adjacent 32 rail tracks and a big construction shed are not in use anymore. The terrain rises above eye level, crosses the old IJdike and separates the lively Spaarndammerbuurt and the Houthaven area at the IJ-side from Sloterdijk I and the Westerpark. The only connections are a tiny pedestrian tunnel and an over-dimensioned infrastructural node, where the central east-west road crosses. This road could potentially become a city boulevard and the crossing could be reconstructed from a concrete jungle into a meeting point with a tram stop, railway station and park, connecting Sloterdijk, Great Westerpark, the waterfront area and the inner city. Combined with housing around, the railway yard is the perfect park-connection in spe. The main challenge is to find out by designing how this site can strengthen the quality of urban living in Sloterdijk I. In fact the whole expedition of mining and cutting the diamond of Great Westerpark starts with Drawing time now. A next step could be an idea-competition or a call for projects for other parts of great Westerpark, to evoke the energy to let this area shine. The results of the work done in Drawing time now show the many themeâ€™s to choose from in the possible programming and design, like making a connection with the foodcluster in the harbor, collecting stories, or by adding events in the tunnels. It makes clear that creating a new park starts right now, even before the site is being cleared and transformed into a tabula rasa.
Structural vision for Amsterdam 2040
Indication of possible transformation between 2020-2030 Research drawing on improvements of public space and routing [Maurits de Hoog)
20. Hannah Schubert Particpant of the workshop
A landscape requires time to grow. It changes continuously. Yet, a landscape plan always displays the mature situation, with illustrations of splendid sight lines, sunny weather and mature trees. A newly made landscape, however, is more likely to be an expanse of scrawny trees and emptiness. The landscape will not resemble the illustrations that have flashed onto the screen during the presentation until something like thirty years have passed. Nothing strange about that: representing the interim stages, each of which has its own qualities, poses a real dilemma because how can you draw the most vulnerable and changeable thing there is – time? Noël van Dooren is doing research into drawing time for his PhD: ‘On the whole, landscape architects employ representational forms that are derived from architecture, in other words, floor plans, profiles and visualisations. These are usually static, describing as they do the final situation. But landscape architecture needs to be aware of time, growth and change, and needs to draw that.’ Day 1 – Catalyst A workshop at the Academy is always a question of bracing yourself, holding your breath and diving into the deep end. You emerge a week later and notice the world around you has continued to revolve as normal and that in fact nothing has really changed. Except that you yourself have broadened your horizons. That certainly applies to this workshop. The participants are from all points of the compass and diverse disciplines. In other words, a motley collection of interested professionals have registered for this design experiment. And that is precisely what it is: an extensive exploration in which the route is unclear and the outcome uncertain. All we know is that we will be working intensively over the next few days on a case study, namely the enlargement of Westerpark Amsterdam in a northerly direction, and that this will be followed by the construction of a ‘time drawing’. What that is precisely – what it will look like, how we’ll be able to read it – is one giant question mark at the moment. The morning begins with an introduction round and a brief exploration on paper of our planning area. The interesting thing about this workshop is that it isn’t the design itself but the
22. subsequent representation of the plan that is the ultimate goal. The design is, as it were, a vehicle and catalyst for making a time drawing. The idea of the lectures in the afternoon is to familiarise us with making time representations in all its forms. Ten speakers from diverse disciplines presented their visions of notation and of representing the dimension of time. Jeroen Fabius, lecturer in choreography at the AHK, gave a particularly impressive lecture and showed a fascinating short film from the choreographer, William Forsythe – a digital transcription and translation of the piece One Flat Thing, reproduced in which his choreography is made visible using colour, form and rhythm. It is already clear to us that animation offers many strategies for capturing the dimension of time. After all, the medium is ideal for working with serial representations. By placing these one after another, movement is created and this can simulate time. The challenge for us is, however, to make a ‘flat’ drawing – something static, printed on paper – that can be reproduced and yet still represents time . Day 2 – You’d think this was an office A visit to the project location Westerpark. We mounted our bikes and five minutes later we had lost all feeling in our feet. The Netherlands still in the grasp of winter, we ploughed through snow and slid down slopes. After a presentation on the plan for Westerpark, one of the participants from abroad made an effort to see the whole park while the rest of us did a short tour and then went to warm ourselves up in the café. Back at the Academy we made a start: first the design and then a time drawing. We were split into groups of three and began to draw. When visual artist and visiting critic Frank van den Broek entered the room, he shouted: ‘You’d think this was an office!’ And that wasn’t meant as a compliment. So, all the tables were shifted to one side and the easels were brought forward. Using charcoal (‘I don’t want to see any more pen drawings!’) we placed our first ideas in broad sweeps on paper. It felt strange trying to give an impression of a design that does not yet exist. Breathe deeply, hang up a large sheet of paper 2m x 2m, and then all three of us start to draw without any plan – erasing, drawing new lines and spaces. I realise how fully we have been moulded by our course of study. But there is simply no room for the usual steps (analysis, concept, profile, plan map); the only way forward is to surrender yourself and allow decisions to happen intuitively. Day 3 – Designing the unknown We started the day with whirling heads and feeling somewhat stressed: How is this going to turn into a plan? What will our time impression look like? Which elements change with time? The lecturers emphasised that all groups should think carefully about the aspects that do not allow themselves to be planned: how should we deal with spontaneous changes, with things that happen unexpectedly? Some groups are good at allowing for the unexpected and find elegant solutions for modelling their plan accordingly. Others encounter difficulties. The nice thing about working together is that you can enrich each other’s ideas. However, teamwork can also be extremely frustrating if you don’t understand each other’s language. We ended the day by presenting our plans and initial time drawings. Although we are all working on the same planning area, each group has chosen a different approach. That’s very promising. I’m curious to see what the rest of the week will bring us. Day 4 - Choosing Noël van Dooren introduced the evening by defining ‘score’. The concept had hung in the air like a huge question mark during the whole weekend. A score can be seen as a notation of time, allowing others to be able to read the drawing and – in theory – to implement the plan. Two short presentations, by Jord den Hollander (architect and filmmaker) and Erik van Gameren (information designer) offered new insights, but also even more confusion here and there. We, too, were thrown off course half way through the evening. A well-meant and extremely inspiring pep talk given by Jord den Hollander resulted in our having – in our opinion – two equally brilliant plans. Panic and arguments followed, as time was ticking by. Three hours later we chose the plan with the most interesting entry point for a time drawing. Only, we had to accept the fact that it was not the most exciting concept. The design is the vehicle and not the aim of the workshop. In the heat of the moment we almost forgot that.
Day 5 - ‘Wonderful’ The architect Jo Barnett (BergerBarnett) was the guest lecturer this evening. She led the way by reflecting on her own work, on art, literature and architecture. She talked about time and, in particular, decline in all its facets by, for example, sharing her fascination for weathered buildings. A pep talk from Barnett always invigorates. She thought our plan was ‘wonderful, absolutely wonderful’. We felt ten centimetres taller and, having pocketed Barnett’s remarks (despite her encouragement, she is certainly not uncritical), the group resumed the work with renewed enthusiasm. Our work room overflowed, both literally and metaphorically, with creativity. Splashes of ink, scraps of paper, ink pads, wire constructions and piles of paper force you to slalom in order to reach your table. Pity Frank van den Broek did not see this. This isn’t an office, it’s an imploded studio. Day 6 - Green is forbidden During the last two evenings, the groups had to spend time answering an important question: How shall we present the material? Meanwhile my own group was busy drawing. Our time drawing gradually took shape on a piece of paper two metres long: it is an axonometric projection, plan map, profile and score in one. With an unfaltering hand we drew our fine, black lines. We will add the trees (there are hundreds of them) tomorrow and the day after with a stamp. Because the words of Marieke Timmermans (head of landscape architecture at the Amsterdam Academy of Architecture) were still resounding in our heads (‘green should be banned from plan maps’), and because we were limited by the inkpads available at the Academy, we chose red. Day 7 – Narrative as drawing One person from each group is delegated to present the plan. The presentation can be seen as recounting a ‘story’. But first we had to practise that – with a clergywoman. However, my thoughts were still with the drawing and the ink pads, and not involved with communicating a feeling. Without much enthusiasm I went to the session with the clergywoman. We spoke about the narrative as an extra drawing, a component of the plan. What is our plan telling us? We closed our eyes and sat quietly for five minutes. And how are we going to involve our audience? Day 8 – The moment of truth The stamps that had been cut out of gum yesterday would now have to prove their worth. In total concentration we began to place our stamps, tree by tree, row by row. We didn’t dare lose count: the quantity of trees ensures the drawing can be read as a representation of time. We managed amazingly well and after two hours of inking, we had finished the drawing with time to spare. Our two-metre-long pride and joy was hanging on the wall. Around us, people were still busy cutting and pasting, mounting film clips and hanging up posters. The ‘story tellers’ among us would now have to ensure our audience understood our design. It is fascinating to see what can be produced in such a short time, how diverse the plans are and what sort of time presentation methods we have discovered. The most intriguing presentation is of a book that is tangible and has moving parts. It is a choreographic journey through a fictitious park, making use of sensory perception. The group presented the story of the design, turned the pages slowly, filming and projecting this enlarged on the screen. In fact, the time drawing is collected into a book and communicated to the audience in a performance. This afternoon, several projects and methodologies were demonstrated, each one with its own layers and unconventional time representations. If there’s one thing the workshop has made clear, it’s that time can certainly be captured in a drawing, or something that derives from a drawing. As a result of this workshop, the landscape architects among us have become even more strongly aware that the factor time is inherently bound up with our discipline. And also that this aspect does not receive enough attention in our present visual culture. Having gained this new knowledge and inspiration, I’m curious to know whether we will do things differently in future. I have every confidence that we will. A sentence I read many years ago comes back to me: ‘A mind stretched to a new idea never returns to its original dimensions.’ This article was first published on archined.nl on March 18 2013
PRELUDE When the first images from the Hubble Telescope were sent to earth a whole new awareness about the universe was born. Through time the universe was explained especially in text and drawing, now it came to us in high resolution color photos. Beautiful images of unimaginable star formations in a creation pillar in the chaotic Carina mist. This principle, the seemingly incidental evolution and devolution of matter into stars and galaxyâ€™s, inspired us to think about natural processes to design and develop the area. SEEDING Empty plots are everywhere. Plots that create opportunities to enlarge the Wester park beyond the northern border of the railway banks. To activate these plots we want to introduce the mechanism of â€œseedingâ€?. Inspired by the formation of stars in the Carina mist this mechanism consists of an evolutionary path.
Andrew van Egmond [NL] Jessica Tjon Atsoi [NL] Leila Zeggio [IT]
In the first year empty plots around the infrastructural node linking Wester park and the harbor area, are plowed and sown in. The first initiative to transform and connect the different areas and to enlarge the Wester park The following year THIS ACT IS CELEBRATED with a flower-event marked by the BLOOMING plots to become part of the COLLECTIVE MEMORY. These plots can after be developed into community food gardens, occupied by residents, schools or other groups that sow and plant eatable plants. Simultaneously new initiatives can activate other empty plots by sowing seeds collected from the initial plots. Businesses can be connected to garden-initiates. The plan does not dictate fixed points in time connected to certain initiatives. We define a start and the initiatives (civil, corporate and government) and activities grow as the area develops. Some plots will develop into maturity to form a structure that become part of the park, while others develop to other program. Possibilities lies in small spots in public green, pieces of park, open areas in the harbor, or the old railway yard. The old yard can be the center of the community garden landscape. As the epicenter, where the historical identity of the site remains, it seems the right place for an annual garden festival; to gather and share knowledge; here schoolchildren are educated on nature and the production of food. Gradually the area attract larger and more permanent functions like a: info center, food-knowledge center, food science lab or a complex of floating gardens . Larger initiatives, such as the transformation of the railway yard, the organization of events and the achievement of a new station in the park, acts as catalyst in the transformation process. Eventually there is a structure, enlarging the Westerpark into the Western harbor area. The new structure will connect south and north: the Westergasfabriek, the Park, the Westerparkbuurt and the Western harbor area. Blooming Activation Point: Like the formation of stars in the Carina mist, new initiatives spread and occupy empty plots that becomes input for future transformation.
The process of moving the ground, seeding, colonization and the blooming of new activities is represented by overlapping layers of the same drawing, cut in the activation points.
This story starts at the ‘pocket’ that will become free next to the existing rails. The users of the fragmented areas around can find common ground in this in-between space. Furthermore, a development at this point will serve as a ma jor hub for the Greater Westerpark project. We provide platform, timing and knowledge and the users can choose the place and materials to work with.
Helena van Boxelaere [B] Iulia Dobrovie [RO] Nota Georgelou [GR]
Three areas will serve as catalyst for the transformation: 1. The existing huge workshop building will become a vibrant spot with cafe, a storage place for materials to use for construction on site (wood, plants...), a library and interactive learning/training for activities. Two main entrances will lead the flow of people towards it (a new tunnel from the nature playground and an access at level from the allotment gardens and at the Zaanstraat from the housing area). 2. The second main development pole will consist of a concentration of restored/ transformed wagons at the meeting point of the new bridge from Westergasfabriek Park and the access at level at the Zaanstraat from the residential area. These wagons will have diverse themes: cooking wagon, theatre wagon, disco wagon, jukebox wagon, expo wagon, atelier wagon... The presented two key areas will be open for activities every day to passers-by, creative industries, NGO’s offices, and the association of the tryexpress. In time, the wagons will be replaced with other structures. 3. The third key area is concealed behind a barrier, keeping one third of the site hidden, for nature ‘incubation’. During an one week festival, once a year, the barrier will be removed and the whole site will become accessible. The main activities during this event will be art installations and the ‘dynamic botanical garden’ (that is, name tags will be placed next to the identified plant species). However, once the vegetation on this area starts to flourish, a management plan has to be made in order for the site not to turn into an impenetrable forest. The most appreciated installations will become permanent and the new barrier built after the festival will pass behind it. Meanwhile the wagons will spread also in between the two poles and will connect them. One year later the barrier will disappear again for a week. This alternation of discovering and forgetting will allow an episodic development and provide attraction and a surprise factor for the yearly event. All until the whole site will be permanently unveiled. The try express is a dynamic site for people to interact and explore their own creativity. Such a strategy of ‘structured freedom’ offering: - a variety of choices - for diverse users - reusing existing elements - playing with perception and collective memory of this place in time will make Amsterdam happy.
Drawing time in four dimensions, with threads, wires and paper
1. First catalyst for the site transformation: the existing workshop building
2. Second activity node: the concentration of restored/ transformed wagons
3. The barrier is drawn away during the yearly one week event and people can move all over the site (green thread symbolizing the movement)
4. At the same event the vegetation that developed behind the barrier is reviled
THE BOUNDARIES OF FLOWER HILLS
What if a city would make it possible for you to go to a beautiful park full of flowers for you to pick, so you could take the park with you, not only as a memory or experience, but in a physical way? The Westerpark consists of different fragments, little worlds of their own. All those worlds have their own character and identity. There is for example an industrial park with the old Westergasfactory, a natural playground for children, an old farm and a nature-only area. The now existing train-yard will be a lot smaller in the future. In the future we will add a new fragment to the area: a park that can spread out over the city as the people pick flowers from the park and bring them to their homes.
Melvin Creemers [NL] Kim Kool [NL] Anna Valman [SE]
By modeling the site due to the angles of the sun in Amsterdam over a year, we maximize the possibility for sunrays to help growing bulbs. The Netherlands is known for its fields of bulbs, so Amsterdam will add a new attraction. The project explores the boundaries of a site: considering the commuters seeing the site from passing by in the train or walking through the site towards another destination. It explores boundaries as well, whereas the visitor brings flowers with him/her home, where does the park stop then? The project understands change over the seasons: due to the composition of flowers in each flowerbed and as a composition of flowers over the whole site. The site is also in constant change as flowers are being picked. The project includes multifunctionality on the site over the year, months and days: the hills that are not having there flowers in blossom can be used for activities such as snow riding, picnics or as a stand for concerts. The site is designed for daily walks, play and stay but also as part of a route for bikers, joggers or commuters walking through to catch a train.
Top: The project includes multifunctionality on the site over the year, months and days. Bottom: The design explores the boundaries, whereas the visitor brings flowers with him/her home, where does the park stop then?
By modeling the site due to the angles of the sun in Amsterdam over a year, we maximize the possibility for sunrays to help growing bulbs.
YOU PLANT A STICK, WE GROW A FOREST
Ziega van de Berk [NL] Miranda Schut [NL] Robin Schaeverbeke [B]
You plant a tree, it will grow into a stick. It seems common sense that it takes time and the right conditions for a tree to grow. So why isn’t it common knowledge a park is not an in-situ object and needs time to develop? Under the motto ‘you plant a stick, we grow a forest’ the railway yard will develop into a park. To reveal and stage this transformation, three mechanisms for intervention are used that contribute to the park in a repetitive way. Each is linked to the strategic goals: Creating ecologic diversity, stimulating ownership/ engagement and strengthening connectivity. Folk forest - every 3 years A plot of land will be planted with Birches, The planting is set-up as a weekend long event for the community. The trees will be small, about 1 meter heigh, and with a planting distance of 1 meter it will create a dense patch. To enforce the architectural approach to the ecological processes taking place, the plots are laid out as rectangles, starting around the current hangar, expanding outward every stage with a new layer. This design enables people to experience the growth of the forest in size of trees as well as spatially, and emphasises the different stages by making a comparison possible. When the trees have established, open spaces can be created and new species are introduced. Stedelijk museum outdoor - every 2 years In the former hangar an annex of the Stedelijk museum will open its doors. The building will serve as an incubator for art and nature: Artists are invited to exhibit, plants to overgrow the building by cutting holes in the structure. During the biennale, emphasis is put on the relation between artworks, the park and the community by creating themes that evoke interaction. This will insure a link between events and their surrounding, stimulating the development of the park and the public awareness, instead of the park being used as generic event site. The trails - approx. every 4 years The park network will gradually develop; its timing co-depends on the surrounding area. A possible scenario - 2013: Main access to the park, exploration. People start eroding ‘elephant paths’. These informal routes and shortcuts reveal something about people’s everyday life, their desired path and places of interest. 2017: Selected paths are formalised. Board walks, hanging rope bridges, lowered trenches, elevated plateaus etc. open up new areas or show them from a different perspective. 2021: More paths are paved, bridges are constructed over the train tracks. 2026: Flyover for people, plants and animals. The park will develop as a result of the rhythm and interplay between the interventions, leaving room for improvisation, inviting spontaneous development and informal activity. Years can be highly programmed, like 2017 (museum intervention + new trails). The combined impact can be enforced by making the theme of the biennale ‘connectivity’, catalysing the development of the park. In 2014 or 2018, which are not programmed, an atmosphere of opportunity should be created, opening the park to pioneers, both human as well as plant and animal species.
Score of the growth of the park: rhythm and interplay between the 3 mechanisms for intervention over time.
Final image of the stopmotion video: the railway yard has grown into a park.
Overlooking the natural swimming pond towards the Stedelijk Museum Outdoor in the former hangar.
In the form of a stop-motion video (1700 images in 6 minutes), the act of drawing is used as a representation of the time it takes to grow the park
Mathilde Christmann [FR] Emilie Gallier [FR] Yukina Uitenboogaart [NL]
LOCOMOTION is a park that grows together with the city, and offers experiences of locomotion between Amsterdam’s city centre and the new port area through the progressive programming of the space between railways. To present the project, we designed an interactive book that suggests tactile experiences by means of engraved paper. The book reads from back to front, in order to generate in its reader the gesture of adding layers when reading. At first, layers of perspectives and information accumulate. The site of the rails is presented for its rhythmical qualities. Then a measurement of time according to breathing cycles is introduced in the drawing of a diaphragm; such physical measurement of time underlines our wish to place the sensorial body at the core of the project. Furthermore this alternative time measurement communicates our aim for the park to give a new breath to the area that is now choked, and to establish connections with its diverse neighbouring sites. Throughout the book, the context and core ideas being presented, a lexicon of tactile language is then given. It represents either the types of textured landscape programmed in a corridor of tracks (for instance high grass, pebbles), or the sort of activity (running track, dancing lane). The second part of the book displays page after page a perspective view of the site with paths pointing toward the horizon. The first page proposes to the reader to lift a layer of paper to withdraw electric lines. Then each page shows - by means of engraving in the path of paper representing the path - the possible design of the site according to its phase of development over 40 years: (1) old railways being transformed into wild park available for visitors to wander, (2) then a more structured landscape proposing sensorial experiences of locomotion (3) the structure mutates increasingly into offering more urban activities. The reader can experience textures and project him/herself in the sensorial site by brushing over the page. The experience of time is given by pop-up elements presenting developments in sequence (before/after). Some pages show possible activities by pulling paper strings where a dance is written or a walk is proposed. The book ends with a ‘walk over the years’, an accordion paper unfolding how an individual experiences the park during his/her life: it plays with the multiple futures that are to be drawn. By inviting for a sensorial walk, taking time to relate, one understands how others (and the landscape) choreographs one’s movement, and one becomes able to take over, choreographing one’s own path, taking sideways, composing both in the Locomotion park and in life. By implicating the reader, the book led us to consider not only representation but also actual presentation in the moment of reading of the project. It performs core ideas by offering sensorial experiencing, involving gestures of adding or removing. The reader, whoever he/she is (financial partner, future visitor, inhabitant etc.) can understand in an intimate way his implication, role, power of choice making, and can further contribute to Locomotion.
A page showing a walk over the years
A page showing how the accordion paper spreads
An example of a pop up page with paper engravings
A page showing the opening of the site to the public â€“ here in projection when the book was collectively read on Friday 1st March (Yukina holding the role of the hands of the reader and Mathilde, the one of the eyes).
Top: Try-out of the paper engravings, folding and cutting, techniques showing information in sequences Bottom: A page of the lexicon showing the coding of the textures depending on the landscape elements
The initial collage experimenting with the structures, textures and tactility
While the workshop we were told by a dutch architect and filmmaker a typical dutch story: A guy falls in love with a girl, they kiss each other under a tree for the first time and fall in love. Forty years later they have raised their children and, just by chance, they find themself walking back to the spot of the tree, where they had their first kiss. But the tree is gone and the place totally changed. So, why is that a typical dutch story? If you look at the ongoing transformation of West- Amsterdam it becomes clear. Parts of the harbour will change to housing areas, highways to city boulevards and office buildings to new residential housing. But people also loose their places, to which they connect their memories. We want to give them a place to keep and tell their story.
Judit Urgelles [ESP] Nina Wiman [SE] Felix Ziegler [D]
But how can you leave a story behind, when you have to move away? The stories are collected in the new park at Westergasfabrik. Everyone who is threatend by the transformation can record his story and place it virtually at a spot in the park. Visitors then can come to the park, search with the use of GPS for the spots where stories are left behind and listen to them with their smartphone or similar devices. Over the time and the ongoing transformation more and more stories will be told and also the area where you can recieve them grows with more and more people listening to it. An invisible story landscape is created. We tried to represent the growth of the invisible sound landscape with a sort of diagramm (is it a score?) evolving over time. It is seen on the left in combination with a collage of characteristic stories we collect while the workshop. The framework for that invisible story landscape is a park constructed in a, for landscape architects, normal way. Looking back 200 years the place experienced great changes. It was situated right in front of Amsterdam, an entrance or exit. As time went on a dyke was build, fields constructed, the railway was build and with industrialisation the city grew and inhabitat the project area. All those stages of the past have left their traces in the current landscape. Fragmentary, but for the skilled eye visible. We extract the basic structure, orientation or character of these fragments and use them as design of our park. We tried to represent the impact of the past in our first score, seen on the left of the plan. Layers of transparent paper show the traces of the past, the final at the bottom represents a multi-layered structure, maybe similar to a palimpsest.
Top: Stories are told Bottom: Invisible sound landscape
Presentation panel: Representing time, did it work?!
THE GROWING LINE
The Westerpark is a collection of different atmospheres: when walking through the park, one experiences old and new, nature and industry, quietness and activity. Nevertheless the park is one entity, which can be extended by adding another ‘world’ to it. On the northern side of park a row of railway tracks and an old remise will loose their function in the future. This part is chosen to be redeveloped as an extension to the existing Westerpark. It will serve as a new longitudinal addition, connected to a future station (tram/train) and neighbourhood ‘Minervahaven’ which is currently planned to be built. From the northern side of the district a considerable amount of people will start using the Westerpark: for leasure, culture, sports and most importantly – for a quiet retreat.
Valentina Chimento [IT] Hannah Schubert [NL] Astrid Bennik [NL]
The existing Westerpark has mainly open and half-open natural parts. Only in very few spots you are surrounded by trees. ‘The growing line’ proposes an urban forest on the abandoned railway tracks. The park is a nursery planted with birch trees. Their white trunks and bright green leaves create a strong interaction with the black, horizontal railway tracks. It is an interaction between colour and orientation, but also between growth and decay. It is a park that grows slowly in time, in two phases. It starts to grow from the mother track of the abandoned railwaytracks, which used to serve all other tracks. This thin line is planted with one row of trees in the first year, from beginning to the end. When the trees reach a certain height, a parallel row is added from start to end of the track. This process is repeated until the whole width of the park is covered. Seen in a section, the trees of the park are shaped like a wave, from old and tall (next to the mothertrack) to younger and smaller. When the whole width of the park is filled in, the second phase of the park starts. This is a dynamic cycle, which keeps on repeating itself. When the trees are old enough, they will be replanted elsewhere in the city. By taking them out, row by row, year after year, we start to reshape the ‘wave’. A dynamic and ongoing cycle of planting and replanting started, shifting the rows of emptiness each year. Parallel to the planting of the park, the old train remise will be developed in different phases, too. It contains a nursery (for very young trees), an indoor swimming pool, cultural hotspots and offices. On the most western side of the park, on top of the viaduct, a tram and train station is planned. When constructed (estimated time: 30 years from now) the park will have experienced its first ‘cycle’ and will be fully planted with birches. Indirectly, the park is about growth and regrowth, about time and decay. It is an experience that will be more prominently felt by people who are visiting the park on a regular basis: they see it grow and change. A walk in the park is like a walk through time. Every couple of years, you see the ‘wave’ move, with long rows of trees being taken out, leaving emptiness in a dense urban forest. Every phase has its own quality. ‘The growing line’ shows the dynamics of a park that grows both in activity but also in the length and width. The result is an ever-changing, dynamic urban forest.
Up: The remittance will be redeveloped in phases, parallel to the growth of the park. It contains a nursery, an indoor swimming pool, and a creative hub. Down: Section-diagram showing the growth of the trees among the â€˜mothertrackâ€™. The wave-like pattern shows the age of the trees.
The time-drawing of the park. Every section resembles a phase. The park grows not only in width but also in richness and dynamics.
SPADE INTO THE DIRT
We’ve got fascinated by the idea of growth over time and how this works in big cities. The organic use and the growth of the urban fabric by city residents have become the main triggers of our project. The city is a place where many things happen individually, incoherently and coincidentally. However, it all together creates the “buzz” that gives the city its vibrant and characteristic nature. Similarly our project creates a dynamic and changing landscape where the residents of the adjacent neighbourhoods feel free to take ownership and participate in their surroundings. The basic idea of project is to let the park grow and change along and with the residents of the future neighbourhoods of Westerpark area. We look for a situation where the neighbourhood, the residents and the park grow simultaneously;
Esther Brun [NL] Zuzana Jancovicová [SK] Els van Looy [B]
It all starts with a blank canvas. Like a drop of ink spreading out on paper, the process is ignited with a single act which provokes another action by which the meaning of the initial action grows. Different ink drops symbolically represent different activities and interventions of inhabitants taking over tabula rasa. The drops/ activities grow, multiply and intermingle together by time. From the single pioneer towards a complex and colourful community. The book serves as a collection of coincidental ink drop paintings. Each page is complemented by a short sentences reflecting on the possible intervention the added drop represents. The sentences are part of a fictional, but realistic story of one’s life in Westerpark neighbourhood. The hidden beauty of this metaphorical park design project lies in its imperfection and incompleteness. It can be seen as contradictory in comparison with today’s strict culture of Dutch planning. It can serve as a reflection and discussion point against conventional planning process, because it encourages healthy coincidences and collaborative participation. This combination of features can create a sense of belonging and unity, which are necessary in order to sustain our cities.
Growing, involving and intermingling ink drop representing different activities held in the park
Issue of time represented by continuous crowding of ink drops and story of oneâ€™s life
60. NoĂŤl van Dooren
The design experiment took place two months ago at the end of January 2013. So, now is a good moment to reflect on its outcome. Let me simply start by stating what moved me. First of all, the circumstances for this workshop were less than favourable. There was virtually no money. The participants had to pay to attend the workshop. Not so much, but it was still a barrier. They also had to send a drawing beforehand, which we put on the website. It was not â€˜just a workshopâ€™ for those who wanted some adventure in Amsterdam. Nevertheless, 24 people applied. We had lecturers and critics, all in all another 20 people, some of whom came from abroad. The subject was apparently both attractive and relevant. As many of the participants and the lecturers came with considerable knowledge on various aspects of the theme, the workshop really functioned as a meeting point. Speaking for myself, I can say that I acquired inspiring images, new sources and intriguing projects. It was a meeting point due to the multidisciplinary character of the theme. The subject inspires, for example, a fruitful alliance between dance and choreography and landscape architecture. The lecture given by Jeroen Fabius impressed the audience, if only because of the fantastic animation of the work of Forsythe. Two participants have their roots in dance and choreography, and in my research the work of Halprin and his scores is crucial. Another thing moved and surprised me. The public seminar on day 1 ended with a debate. Unexpectedly, this debate caused confusion. The debate suggested that we all know what scores are, and that we can have an opinion on them. In fact, this must have been an autonomous dynamic within the debate. Even if individual members may have had things in mind which they associate with scores, my research so far does not prove that there is a shared set of scores. But it had consequences. It prompted the participants to ask for scores. Show them! This made me prepare an extra lecture on the theme, searching for examples which could serve as starting points for thinking about scores. At the same time, the participants were making their first design proposals. This allowed me to test the argument in reality: does their work fit in? In an iterative mode this
62. helped me to arrive at a fairly practical definition of the score. Without implying that the score is now ready to be applied as a representational tool, this is a crucial step. It allows me to communicate on the score, to relate it to other representational types and to test it in different settings. A small thing that impressed me was the Thursday evening session in which a vicar participated. On the last evening, if it is still possible to influence the group work, then it is by means of the oral presentation, as that is one of the last things to be prepared. We saw a relationship between delivering a sermon and presenting design work. Luckily, the vicar shared this idea and was willing to work with the groups. Not all participants felt comfortable with this experiment. However, it had effects. In general terms, it forced the groups to decide quite early ‘who is going to tell the story’ and accepting that one has to trust the other in fixing this in some way. This is quite crucial as one of the pitfalls in workshops is too much talking about how to do it. At least four groups were clearly influenced in their presentation. I noticed that it allowed a distinction between a practical oral explanation of the work and a narrative, which in a way, was another drawing, a spoken drawing. And as a narrative is all about time, this introduced another time aspect into the workshop. NOW WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL PRODUCTS? I was fascinated by the drawing in time zones of Valentina, Astrid and Hannah. This huge drawing can be seen as a plan or as an axonometry, but the main thing is that it is divided into time zones spanning 20 years. As a representational system this draws attention to sections of plants flowering through the seasons, as shown in beautiful examples from the Vogt office. But I have never seen a plan drawing used in this way. This drawing really challenges reading abilities. One could even say: this drawing is very impractical. This comes back to the basic idea that architectural drawings are codified, and that we have to learn to read the code. We have to keep in mind that a plan or a section is also something you have to learn to read - and a lot of people can’t read them. The sceptical question might still be: and why learn to read this? One answer is, that making this drawing forced the designers to be quite precise about their own design idea, in a way which they never had to be in ‘just’ drawing a plan. The other is: because it is extremely attractive. What I very much like about it is the smart ‘bricolage’: they used a piece of eraser as stamp. That was a practical solution as all shops were closed at the time, but it also shows how an imperfect instrument can be the perfect means to a very beautiful drawing. At this point in my evaluation, one could briefly consider how practice or education can profit from a workshop like this. During the week I had some doubts. The theme of time seemed to bring the participants into a rather abstract mode of thinking. The irony is, I invited the students to be not too realistic and to concentrate on time issues to ensure they focussed on the design process instead of the smartest design solution for the park. The participants took up the challenge and really concentrated on time. As a consequence, most products were a bit out of context. They were general approaches to time, public space and drawing. As a practitioner, a valid reaction would be: nice workshop, but way beyond my needs. Now this is an interesting point in which I learned something myself. We have to make a distinction between the drawing as an instrument within regular practice to produce plans and to build landscape, and (the) drawing as an independent mental space with its own history, expectations, possibilities and problems. The design experiment was indeed an experiment in drawing as such, and in that sense the drawing of Valentina, Hannah and Astrid was a great result. Another impressive piece of work was the contribution by Mathilde, Yukina and Emilie. Their group was strongly inspired by choreography. From the start, they researched drawing not so much as a representation of physical space, but more as a representation of the action in that space. Damaging, cutting and folding paper can be read as a representation of change, erosion or weathering in the physical landscape. Their product was a book. This book seemed to be, apart from a neutral way to organize information, also a time-based drawing in the sense that it allowed one to control the narration about what happens in time. As the book was quite small, it was hard to present to a crowd. Their solution to present it by means of video had a striking effect; the presentation became a performance. This left open the fascinating question of whether we had witnessed in this performance a work of art, or whether we had seen the representation of something still to be created.
64. Precisely this aspect offers me something which is very relevant for practice and education. Working with time, and exploring ways to represent this, seems to challenge regular architectural presentation. It suggests that other presentational means become very appropriate, like animation film and more. But these are outside the known form of the architect’s presentation with panels on the wall. One step further, it suggests that the presentation as such can become a performance in which the boundary between the drawing as a representation and a work of art for its own sake becomes blurred. Several other groups also illustrated this tension. The group consisting of Ester, Els and Zuzana made a book with a sequence of ‘drippings’: pages on which drops of coloured ink resulted in coincidental patterns. This represented their idea about change in the area in a highly abstract way. Their book, apart from being extremely beautiful, the regular architect’s presentation as it is a narrative in itself. But it is not without precedent: the idea of the book as a narrative goes back to Humphrey Repton’s Red Books. I was also fascinated by the low tech animation film made by Robin, Miranda and Ziega in which the process of drawing becomes a narration in time. Animation film certainly is interesting when speaking about time. But it obviously demands new concepts of presentation: how can we integrate pieces of film in an interesting way, and what is their function? Is it an independent part, with its own music and text, or is it just as a drawing: open for real time explanation? One of the intriguing aspects is that for this group, drawing the final product and documenting the drawing process both happened simultaneously. The installation built by Iulia, Helena and Nota was interesting in terms of presentation as it revealed the time aspect only in its presentation. The installation could be read as a work of art, but that was not their intention; it represented an idea. This however only got its full meaning in combination with the spoken narrative which again blurred the distinction between design presentation and performance. An important assumption in my research is that paying attention to time-based drawings in an early phase may influence the design itself. Time-based drawings require a certain way of thinking that may correct or enrich the design. The workshop suggested that indeed design processes change if the designers really engage via drawings with time. It would not be going too far to assume that at least 6 out of 8 products never would have been made without the specific questions posed in this workshop. Most groups did make choices on representation which they would certainly not have made in regular situations, and at least 4 groups reached the stage of substantially testing the chosen representational technique. The computer was hardly used. We advised the participants to stick to hand drawing, to avoid the regular technical problems but also for the sake of communication: hand-made work is physically present and immediately accessible for exchange. But it is clear that there is no ideological preference for hand drawing; it may be wise in an individual project to use the computer as it speeds up the work and is easier to integrate with other drawings. Nevertheless, my conclusion, having stimulated hand drawing, was very positive as, combined with the unusual challenge of drawing time, it inspired the participants to try out drawing means, drawing types and methods they seldom use in regular studios. In addition, it enlarged their repertoire and their insight into whether drawing helps to solve the design problem. It was also fun. People entering the room had the feeling they were entering an atelier, where they had something to discover. An important outcome of the research is my extended awareness on the concept of the score. First of all, the seminar made clear that the score or comparable notation techniques is used in diverse disciplines like choreography, music and arts - but in a different way. More important, the score as far as it is known in landscape architecture is already subject to very diverse interpretations and meanings, mainly due to the revival of interest in the work of Lawrence Halprin. Using the score as a word for the drawing which I want to research may even be counterproductive because of that. So I am forced to make a temporary distinction between the definition of the representational type and the
precise name for it. Even if that is in the end only a taxonomic issue, it will be an important condition for the success of the score: it has to be understood in the right manner. That doesn’t change so much for the intention of the score. In my opinion the real contribution of the score can be summarized in the question ‘who is doing what, when and where?’ or ‘what is happening when and where?’ I think the design experiment showed very clearly that posing this question helps to refine design ideas. Not only answering this question verbally, but also drawing it forces one to really explore the issue. And in the end it has the same meaning as all other drawings in the context of a design process: taken together, they show what the designer wants to change in this world.
66. Thanks to all involved
WORKSHOP COORDINATOR Noël van Dooren [NL] Research fellow/ landscape architect WORKSHOP ASSISTENT David Kloet [NL] Landscape architect PARTICIPANTS Andrew van Egmond Anna Valman Astrid Bennink Els Van Looy Emilie Gallier Esther Brun Felix Ziegler Hannah Schubert Helena van Boxelaere Iulia Dobrovie Judith Urgelles Jessica Tjon Atjoi Kim Kool Leila Zeggio Mathilde Christmann Melvin Creemers Miranda Schut Nina Wiman Nota Georgelou Robin Schaeverbeke Valentina Chimento Yukina Uitenboogaart Ziega van der Berk Zuzana Jancovicová
[NL] [SE] [NL] [B] [FR] [NL] [D] [NL] [B] [RO] [GR] [NL] [NL] [IT] [FR] [NL] [NL] [SE] [ESP] [B] [IT] [NL] [NL] [SK]
Hogeschool Larenstein SLU, Alnarp AvB Amsterdam AvB Amsterdam ArtEZ Arnhem AvB Amsterdam Technical University Munich AvB Amsterdam Wageningen Universiteit Wageningen Universiteit Architecture School of Barcelona AvB Amsterdam AvB Amsterdam UPC Barcelona/ ACMA Milano Université Lille Wageningen Universiteit Wageningen Universiteit SLU, Alnarp NTU Athens St Lucas Gent Università Iuav di Venezia HKUtrecht HKUtrecht Wageningen Universiteit
EXPERTS SEMINAR Anders Busse Nielsen Anouk Vogel Danny Weijermans Erik de Jong Hans Venhuizen Hilbrand Wanders Jeroen Fabius Paul Cureton Sebastien Penfornis Veronique Facheur
[SE] [NL] [NL] [NL] [NL] [NL] [NL] [UK] [FR] [FR]
Landscape architect/ researcher Landscape architect Composer/ sound technician Landscape historian Cultural Planner Architect Antropoligist/ dance historian Landscape architect/ researcher Landscape architect Landscape architect/ dancer
EXPERTS WORKSHOP Erik van Gameren Patricia Bijvoet Frank van den Broeck Jeanette den Ouden Jo Barnett Jord den Hollander Marieke Timmermans
[NL] [NL] [NL] [NL] [UK] [NL] [NL]
Maurits de Hoog Pauline Wieringa
Graphic designer/ information designer Landscape architect/ Amsterdam Physical Planning Departement Artist Vicar Architect Filmmaker/ Architect Landscape architect/ Head of the department of landscape architecture Urbanist/ Amsterdam Physical Planning Departement Landscape architect Westerpark for GustafsonPorter
DRAWING TIME NOW Results of the design experiment © 2013, Noel van Dooren Amsterdam Academy of Architecture www.drawingtimenow.com
Amsterdam Academy of Architecture Waterlooplein 211-213 1011 PG Amsterdam tel 020-531 8218 fax 020-531 8240 email@example.com www.ahk.nl/bouwkunst/ LAYOUT AND FORMAT David Kloet PHOTOGRAPY Betul Ellialtioglu © [page: 9, 11, 12, 21, 23, 24 and 63] Hans Kruse © [page: 25, 27, 28, 29, 31, 33, 35, 36, 37, 39, 43, 46, 47, 49, 50, 53, 50, 53, 54, 57, 58, 59] All other photo’s by Noel van Dooren David Kloet and participants ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.