manifesta

Here’s a glance at what’s happening with the Mateus hotel. It looks as if they’ve added another lift shaft since November and there’s more activity going on at ground level I can’t make out. There are some good pictures from Devin and CM00 in the New Public Space for Docklands thread that, combined with some of these, give a good sense of how the plaza is developing.

In keeping with the cart-before-the-horse spirit, they have started to install some of the lighting that will form a pathway alongside the rumored ‘performing arts theatre.’ They seem to be a bit cheaply made and don’t look as though they’ll wear well over time.

Lots of lights. Lots and lots of lights. One can only grit one’s teeth in anticipation (fear?) of what it will look like once the Libeskind mothership lands. There are such bizarre juxtapositions going on right now, some quite wonderful:

Or this:

So far, so good. But then, gentle reader, you get this travesty:

Arrggh! The cheapy green bulbs, apart from reminding me of a marquee or some emergency exit path lighting gone all wrong, are garish and detract from the oddball, elegant simplicity of the vertical red lights.

The renderings of the plaza are flashy all right. When you look at the plans for everything all together: the red sticks, the green Disney benches, the odd triangular yokes, the performing arts theatre and its ‘meaningful’ angles, the sleek checkerboard of the Mateus, it really is sensory overload. All of them? All at once? I know I should suspend judgment until it’s all built, but I feel at the moment rather like that Grand Canal Harbour chimney… hidden away, standing in the center of a bizarre half-wasteland, half-art installation, wondering whatever was wrong with leaving a little open space.

Enjoy it while it lasts…

Thanks for the insights, Graham and ctesiphon. Makes you wonder why they’d go to the trouble of demolishing something perfectly historic as a Victorian era engine shed while leaving this creepy old thing from the ’50s just next to it, left to rot. I can’t imagine it’s had much practical use lately, but I could be wrong. That said, I’d prefer this piece of dereliction instead of sticking in some glossy, inevitable high rise in its place. But then maybe I just like creepy, run-down inexplicable buildings.

If pictures aren’t available of the original shed, I wonder if there be any land surveys or maps that might show precisely where it might have lived before it was demolished. And if there’s any evidence at all in the new Grand Canal DART station of this original wall they claimed to preserve, it’s certainly scant evidence. Invisible, one might say. Unless I’m not looking closely enough… I’d love to be proven wrong on this one.

@ctesiphon wrote:

But I do have a spare pony.

Is it a bicycle? 😉

I think about these buildings all the time. Even though I’m bracing myself for the dull, unimaginative retail fixture this fantastic architectural piece will eventually deteriorate into, I have to say I’m really enjoying this stage right now of it existing purely as this sculptural part of the landscape. Forget about the plans and articles. Right now, it’s nothing inside. It’s pure potential.

Generally it’s cause for impatience when a finished building takes so long to ‘open’ but in the case of Stack A, I have to say I’m enjoying this period of emptiness. One of the best things about Stack A going uninhabited for so long is that it’s become this great canvas — not quite blank, but still with so much to be filled in — for daydreamers such as ourselves to wax imaginative on its many possibilities and uses. A spa? A science musuem? A modern art museum? None of the above?

In daylight, a few signs of partitions inside — a blight on the blank canvas. How could anyone want to split this thing up into tiny boxes?

Another interesting feature of the redevelopment of these buildings is how the original shape/materials and new glazing combine to create a surface that changes dramatically in different light. A rare structure that looks just as intriguing no matter the natural light.

You know this is the kind of image that architects love — oh, it will reflect the color of the sky and the buildings opposite (think back to the optimistic renderings of the glass-facade beast beside City Hall) — how cool!

Forgetting that most days are like this:

And still — lovely, desolate, full of possibility.

Had another stroll past the glowsticks on the docks this morning and was surprised to see the red colored illumination inside each pole is not static. There appears to be a beam of red light inside each pole that undulates upward in a subtle wave pattern. It was a bit eerie as I hadn’t noticed it before. My first thought was, ‘cool’ and my second, alas, was ‘lava lamp’. The photos obviously can’t capture the effect but it’s well worth a look.

A digression here, but I’m wondering with all of this optimistic light-show business going on, are we going to see another unsavory, revisionist name change for the area? I don’t know if this is the idealist or the ironist in me, but I hope the name ‘Misery Hill’ will remain attached to this brilliantly lit strip. Though in light of some other developments (renaming townlands after shopping centers), I’m a little worried. I’ve never actually seen a ‘Misery Hill’ sign anywhere and it’s omitted in certain city maps. Is this going to quietly slip away in a heap of rubble and fanfare?

If you’re going to create a novelty space, you might as well go all the way.

Sorry to confound, jimg. I belong to the outmoded, old-fashioned quill and scroll tradition that doesn’t insert smileys when unleashing my good old-fashioned sarcasm about cultural stereotypes. But I’m actually not a Dutch supremacist, nor did I intend to come across as entirely dismissive of this experiment. (The great polarizing Keith Richards aside)

I absolutely agree with you that there is great appeal to a polite, intuitive system of moving about towns and villages, which is maybe why this system works well on smaller scale projects, as you’ve pointed out. I think we are actually in agreement that it has great potential (and real life applications) in places like Temple Bar and in villages and towns throughout Europe (not to mention gridlocked midtown Manhattan). I just found that the “unsafe is the new safe” optimism expressed in the article aroused a healthy knee-jerk skepticism. This does not believe I think the idea is entirely without merit.

Aesthetically, I think it’s a great idea to scale back on unneccessary road signs that just add clutter, as has been pointed out in other threads. I do not think the same about the total abolition of road signs. Road signs are there, primarily, to serve a practical function. Whether or not everyone obeys the speed limits, they are there to ensure (or at least promote) the safety of drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians. Bottom line. If there is a dangerous curve ahead, I want to know. If a street is one-way, I want to know. And whether or not I want to travel to (insert culturally stereotypical undesirable place name here), I have a right to have strategically placed road signs with arrows indicating which route I can take to get there.

Out of curiosity, is it the aesthetics or the social dignity of the idea that appeals to you? Or both?

(And please don’t begrudge me my skeptically cocked eyebrow. I made it one day and my face froze like that.)

Clearly a fresh crop of bronze palm trees is the only way to help the area regain its splendor.

Perhaps this eyesore can be temporarily ameliorated by an emergency Jeanne-Claude/Christo-like wrapping, in which the looming banal structure is wrapped tightly in heavy tarpaulin and manila rope. The controversy that erupts over this building’s extravagant emergence, then sudden disappearance under wraps, will not only provide visual interest on this corner but will also allow ample time to coerce a confession out of the shameful, disgraced building and allow the disappointed public to come up with something better.

An elegant tarp covered with EL ARCHITINO drawings would certainly make my day, as would it create this much-touted “incident in the square.”

@a boyle wrote:

i think i shall have to object.

Is one allowed to object on the basis of poor architecture ?

I hope so. I’m almost too blindsided by the ugliness, the sheer ostentatiousness of the design, to even formulate an intelligent objection. What a shame. This is one of my favorite sites in the city.

Out of curiosity, how long does it usually take before a decision is reached on these proposals? And are the concrete silos fated to go either way?