courtesy  :  smartcities dive

Natural arhitecture

Thicket and Creek Revetment Wall by Daniel McCormick blend the structural engineering of creekside stabilization practices with the aesthetic beauty and function of woven willow branches meant ultimately to be absorbed and reclaimed by nature.

Creek Revetment Wall. Daniel McCormick. San Anselmo, CA, 2005 / Mary O’Brien

These types of projects raise the question: who is design for? Is it only for humans, or should it be for the other crawling, creeping, flying, and lumbering inhabitants of our world as well? The answer is obvious: we should be designing with all creatures’ needs in mind.

Human shelters such as Scuola Nueva Esperanza in Ecuador and Bamboo Structure Project in Iran use inexpensive materials like thatch, bamboo, and reclaimed wood combined with simple but effective forms to create low-cost structures meant for easy re-creation by non-professional builders.

Scuola Nueva Esperanza. Al Borde Arquitectos. Manabí, Ecuador / Al Borde

Bamboo Structure Project. Architecture for Humanity Tehran (RAI Studio). Iran / Rai Studio via Wikimedia Commons

Other installations featured a highly efficient use of woven plant material to create a range of structures, like nests, pavilions, and social gathering spaces. According to nest builder/weaver Porky Hefer, “nature builds to shape, because shape is cheap and material is expensive. By studying the shapes of nature’s strategies and how they are built, biomimicry can help you minimize the amount you spend on materials while maximizing the effectiveness of patterns and forms to achieve desired functions.”

“Nettleton Road Nest.” Porky Hefer. Cape Town, South Africa. Made with kubu cane / Porky Hefer Design

Less explored is the question of how these designs can be scaled up to address the needs of seven billion humans. Two of the few projects meant to accommodate any sort of even residential scale structure – I am so sorry. Goodbye (Escape Vehicle number 4) and How to Survive the Coming Bad Years from Heather and Ivan Morison have a distinctly haunting, post-apocalyptic feel: “…a fantasy of post-apocalyptic survivalism, with all the misanthropy and horror that implies,” writes William Shaw.

Ivan Morison describes their vision of the conjoined domes of I am so sorry. Goodbye as being “inhabited by a guardian whose task is to keep the stove lit, water boiled, and visitors supplied with hibiscus tea . . . I felt witness to something I didn’t fully understand, but felt that we had been given the task to pass on this cryptic message.”

“I am so sorry. Goodbye” / Matthew Benjamin Coleman

Perhaps this is one of the underlying messages of the book: that if we humans do not learn to better use the forms, materials, and processes of nature in our built environment, we will face systemic failure. Tatarella writes: “Sooner or later, the branches and leaves that form their outer shells will rot and be absorbed back into the landscape, just as stones will fall from foundations and, over the ages, be worn away until they are just pebbles.”

Our built environment is destined to one day wear away into dust, but, hopefully, the memory of our most renewable design will remain.

“Winnipeg Skating Shelters.” Patkau Architects. Manitoba, Canida, 2010-11 / Patkau Architects

Yoshi Silverstein is the ASLA 2014 communications intern. He is a Masters in Landscape Architecture candidate at the University of Maryland. He focuses on landscape experience and outdoor learning environments.