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and integrating them with existing train and tube connections. As engineers, Arup have a long
record of innovative collaboration with leading architects. The Vauxhall bus station is high-
profile evidence that the now multidisciplinary Arup is capable of producing noteworthy
architecture of its own.
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Gianni Botsford: William Tozer, ‘Deductive Design,’ Monument, issue 74 (August/September
2006): 66–69.
[Copyright image removed. Refer print version in UCL library.]
Visiting Gianni Botsford’s St John’s Mews house, the overwhelming impression is astonishment
at the scale of the house and the financial investment that it represents in London’s property
market. The project is an extension of the architect’s design research at London’s Architectural
Association architecture school, and the result of close collaboration with engineers Ove Arup.
The new building occupies a mews backed on to by the surrounding houses and other
buildings. To give an indication of its scale, one elevation alone backs on to half-a-dozen
terraced houses, many of which are most likely split into a number of separate dwellings. While
it is commonplace for luxury private houses to emulate hotel rooms, this house is more akin to a
small hotel in its entirety. Aside from its scale, the building’s material palette of concrete, glass
and steel suggests the public areas of a hotel. However, where in a hotel one would generally
see material variation from the more public areas to the guest rooms, here the ‘corporate’
material palette is deployed throughout and without variation.
Clearly, this house relies heavily upon furnishings to define the specific character of rooms. It is
easier to imagine the interiors filled with desks or perhaps stacks of white towels and gym
equipment, but while not in situ at the time of photography, the furnishings are in fact an eclectic
collection of antiquities, reflecting the diverse interests of the art-historian owners. One of these
items is a bookcase designed by early twentieth-century Viennese architect Adolf Loos. This
item recalls two of Loos’ writings on architecture, which shed light on the house—’Ornament
and Crime’ and ‘The Poor Little Rich Man’. For Loos, the street elevations of a house were an
act of anonymity behind which were concealed rich interiors, whereas for Botsford the building
is unforthcoming both externally and internally. ‘I think the clients are still coming to terms with
what they are living in’, says Botsford, ‘and [they] need to experience all the seasons to know
what works and what doesn’t—it needs time’.
‘Our starting point was to represent the empty volume of the site as a three-dimensional grid of
voxel data points’, says Botsford, explaining how three-dimensional pixels were used to model
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the performance of light across the site. The architects claim that as a result of that six months
research, ‘the section became inverted, placing the bedrooms on the ground floor and the living
spaces on the first floor’. However, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that this spatial
manoeuvre is a fairly unsurprising intuitive move, given the nature of the site. The same could
be said for the use of the stairwell, a central courtyard and a lightwell to bring natural light into
the lower levels of the house. An unconscious appreciation of traditional courtyard houses could
claim equal influence over the spatial arrangement of the house to Botsford’s voxel modelling.
While very explicit on the subject of the analytical spatial development of the project, Botsford
sees his form-making and material selection as creatively neutral. ‘We are attempting to
innovate by applying a rational deductive approach, which we call “deductive design”’, says the
architect. On the contrary, however, it is here that the architect’s working method appears most
pronounced. Both the glazing that forms the roof and the module that organises the plan and
section are grids, and could be seen as giving form to the framework of Botsford’s voxel light
model. The roof glazing casts a gridded shadow across the concrete walls, which are
themselves emblazoned with a grid of pixels in the form of concrete ties. In turn, the honeycomb
structure of the translucent floors bears a striking resemblance to physical models of the
computer light modelling. Even views out of the house are pixellated through perforated steel
screens and the supposedly purely functional fretting to the roof glazing.
The arrangement of spaces skilfully uses the direction of natural light to define the character of
one space from another, but views out of the house are almost exclusively to the sky or back
into the building. This recalls, David Adjaye’s Elektra House in East London, which is also
notable for its lack of windows offering views. For Adjaye this gesture edited out most of the
surroundings and can be seen as an expression of his interest in the work of installation artist
James Turrell. Botsford’s functionalist viewpoint would have us believe that the exclusion of
views here is simply born of the need for privacy, but perhaps it could be more critically
understood as a defensive and territorial gesture.
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