P-00423-No-039_rt
From the Guardian Newspaper 12 June 2016:
"The pavilion itself, supported by Goldman Sachs, stands, as usual, next to the Serpentine Gallery’s building, a brief walk through Kensington Gardens from the summer houses. It is made of hollow rectangular tubes, open at the ends, made of thin fibreglass sheets, which are then stacked up into a twisting shape that is at different times tent-like, mountainous, anatomical and churchy. It revels in inversion and surprise: its components are brick-like but light; they are straight-lined and right-angled, but generate curves in their stacking. A one-dimensional vertical line at each end grows from a 2D plane into a 3D swelling. From some positions, you can look straight through the boxes to the greenery beyond, such that they almost disappear. From others, they present blank flanks and the building becomes solid. It is mechanical and organic, filtering and editing the surroundings as if through the leaves of a pixellated tree.
It is designed by BIG, or Bjarke Ingels Group, a name that cleverly combines the initials of its 41-year-old founder and leader with the alternative custom of choosing names that carry some sort of meaning (OMA, the late lamented FAT, muf, Assemble). The latter is supposed to deflect attention away from individuals towards something more general: “BIG” is universal and personal at once, none too subtle in its meaning and statement of ambition and has the added attraction that the original Danish practice can call its website big.dk.
The name encapsulates Ingels’s genius, which is to combine the avant-garde trappings of an OMA with a happy-to-be-trashy flagrancy, an embrace of the values of marketing, a celebration of ego. “What I like about architecture,” he says, “is that it is literally the science of turning your fantasy into reality.” His approach has earned BIG the mistrust, awe and envy of fellow professionals, the adulation of many students and a 300-strong practice with offices in Copenhagen, New York and, as revealed in an announcement coinciding with the Serpentine launch, London.
"The pavilion itself, supported by Goldman Sachs, stands, as usual, next to the Serpentine Gallery’s building, a brief walk through Kensington Gardens from the summer houses. It is made of hollow rectangular tubes, open at the ends, made of thin fibreglass sheets, which are then stacked up into a twisting shape that is at different times tent-like, mountainous, anatomical and churchy. It revels in inversion and surprise: its components are brick-like but light; they are straight-lined and right-angled, but generate curves in their stacking. A one-dimensional vertical line at each end grows from a 2D plane into a 3D swelling. From some positions, you can look straight through the boxes to the greenery beyond, such that they almost disappear. From others, they present blank flanks and the building becomes solid. It is mechanical and organic, filtering and editing the surroundings as if through the leaves of a pixellated tree."
Original article at: www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/jun/12/serpentine-p...
P-00423-No-039_rt
From the Guardian Newspaper 12 June 2016:
"The pavilion itself, supported by Goldman Sachs, stands, as usual, next to the Serpentine Gallery’s building, a brief walk through Kensington Gardens from the summer houses. It is made of hollow rectangular tubes, open at the ends, made of thin fibreglass sheets, which are then stacked up into a twisting shape that is at different times tent-like, mountainous, anatomical and churchy. It revels in inversion and surprise: its components are brick-like but light; they are straight-lined and right-angled, but generate curves in their stacking. A one-dimensional vertical line at each end grows from a 2D plane into a 3D swelling. From some positions, you can look straight through the boxes to the greenery beyond, such that they almost disappear. From others, they present blank flanks and the building becomes solid. It is mechanical and organic, filtering and editing the surroundings as if through the leaves of a pixellated tree.
It is designed by BIG, or Bjarke Ingels Group, a name that cleverly combines the initials of its 41-year-old founder and leader with the alternative custom of choosing names that carry some sort of meaning (OMA, the late lamented FAT, muf, Assemble). The latter is supposed to deflect attention away from individuals towards something more general: “BIG” is universal and personal at once, none too subtle in its meaning and statement of ambition and has the added attraction that the original Danish practice can call its website big.dk.
The name encapsulates Ingels’s genius, which is to combine the avant-garde trappings of an OMA with a happy-to-be-trashy flagrancy, an embrace of the values of marketing, a celebration of ego. “What I like about architecture,” he says, “is that it is literally the science of turning your fantasy into reality.” His approach has earned BIG the mistrust, awe and envy of fellow professionals, the adulation of many students and a 300-strong practice with offices in Copenhagen, New York and, as revealed in an announcement coinciding with the Serpentine launch, London.
"The pavilion itself, supported by Goldman Sachs, stands, as usual, next to the Serpentine Gallery’s building, a brief walk through Kensington Gardens from the summer houses. It is made of hollow rectangular tubes, open at the ends, made of thin fibreglass sheets, which are then stacked up into a twisting shape that is at different times tent-like, mountainous, anatomical and churchy. It revels in inversion and surprise: its components are brick-like but light; they are straight-lined and right-angled, but generate curves in their stacking. A one-dimensional vertical line at each end grows from a 2D plane into a 3D swelling. From some positions, you can look straight through the boxes to the greenery beyond, such that they almost disappear. From others, they present blank flanks and the building becomes solid. It is mechanical and organic, filtering and editing the surroundings as if through the leaves of a pixellated tree."
Original article at: www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/jun/12/serpentine-p...