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南非在历史上经历了长期的种族隔离,在过去的二十年中,也一直在探索如何建造城市的建筑,如何让社区更和谐,并让建筑合法化。开普敦和约翰内斯堡就形成了这种组织,努力将社区的建筑合法化,建造文明和谐的社区。以下的三个建筑项目向大家展示了消除歧视、追求平等、和谐的设机构想。
1建立Slovo Park 社区
早在二十年前,种族隔离之后,南非政府就承诺建立Slovo Park 社区,这里距离南部的约翰内斯堡索韦托镇有十公里远。当时承诺的是给人们建造家园,并把这里合法化,但是没有有效实施,空欢喜一场,政府还卷入了“涉嫌腐败丑闻”。21世纪初,4000名居民建立了Slovo Park 社区发展论坛(SPCDF),反对歧视,追求平等,主张自己掌握发展命运,寻求外界的认可,主张创建一个合法的、人道的社会。
2010年,一些比勒陀利亚大学建筑系的学生来到这里,和社区发展论坛合作,经过六个星期的研究和讨论确定了设计方案。设计团队和每个人都进行面谈,了解他们的想法,以一个破旧的选举站为基础,建造了社区中心和公民活动区。社区中心日后还能扩建,目前建造了会议大厅和公共广场。
如今,论坛的创建人Jhono Bennett表示,社区中心非常宽敞,为居民的生活提供了相对安定的环境,在当地的建筑历史上是一大进步。而这些设计专业的学生也付出了很多汗水,以他们的方式参与国家的发展,贡献自己的力量。
2 “Architecture for a Change”团队的成立及其项目
Anton Bouwer, Dirk Coetser 和John Saaiman这三个人组成了“Architecture for a Change”团队,是建筑行业中的实践者。Coetser表示,他们三人对建筑事业很有激情,从学生时代开始就喜欢研究各种建筑,逐渐积累经验。他们三人主要改造约翰内斯堡附近的棚屋,那里的水电都是共用的。当地的失业率很高,因为很多人都患有艾滋病,而且酗酒,滥用药物,家庭暴力频发。这几位建筑师希望改造这里的环境,转变旧的面貌。让人们树立房屋所有权的意识,建造和谐的社区。
该团队希望让更多的建筑合法化,而且添加自己的设计,不受传统的束缚。Coetser表示,历史上那些被划定为非法、非正式的住房会给人带来耻辱感,因为不被认可。人们普遍认为,石造建筑才是正式正规的。如今,该团队要打破常规,使用当地简易的材料建造项目。他们建造了太阳能面包店,让社区成员带来玻璃瓶,现场教他们如何利用玻璃瓶建造房子外墙。结果,他们的设计非常适合当地的环境,比其他房子建造得还好。这种设计经济实惠,很有创意,而且促进了可持续发展。房子上安装了太阳能电池板,设计了雨水收集装置,比较先进,还很环保。该团队目前完成了四个建筑项目,包括马拉维的一所学校和社区教堂。他们为自己的设计而感到自豪,每个项目其实都是一个挑战,他们也在探索,在创新。
3 人文社区
Khayelitsha 社区中心的设计像之前的Slovo Park社区中心、太阳能面包店一样,都与众不同,推动了城市建筑的转型。“希望足球”是国际足联建立的联盟项目,旨在提高公众的教育水平和公共卫生水平,遍及非洲的14个国家。该项目的建筑师和社区基层组织合作,共同建设社区。当地的项目负责人Darren Gill表示,好的设计能够建造好的社区,而且让人有种自豪感。
Khayelitsha 社区中心位于开普敦,这里暴力活动频发,“希望足球”项目建立了“城市升级预防暴力” 组织(VPUU),该组织自2005年以来就致力于该地区的维稳工作。社区和该组织进行合作,找出暴力犯罪的多发区,重新规划。Khayelitsha中心建于2010年,对公众开放,有很多志愿者参与了社区建设。这里交通便利,晚上很明亮,相对比较安全。
社区建立后,社会风气也得到了改善,近十年来,乡镇的谋杀率下降了33%。同时,当地的教育、经济状况和卫生水平也提高了很多。社区的建立需要考虑方方面面,社区的环境需要大家去维护,每个人都要树立起主人翁意识。社区的维护、扩展也离不开大家的积极参与。
译者:筑龙网 Odette
How do you undo centuries of inequality? How do you overturn an inequality so ingrained in a culture that it manifests itself physically - in the architecture of its homes and in the misshapen nature of its cities?This is the question post-apartheid South Africa has been struggling to answer for the past twenty years. And while the government has made many concerted efforts, for far too many the situation has remained largely the same.
However, there are currents of change afoot. Many who have been marginalized are now working to defeat the stigma and legitimize their communities, and they are enlisting architects to the fray. From an organization in Capetown that aims to transform the role of the South African designer, to another in Johannesburg that uses design to legitimize informal architecture, to a project in one of the most violent townships in South Africa that has transformed a community, the following three projects are making a difference for the users who have the most to gain from their designs and design-thinking. All three represent not only the power of design to defeat stigma and instill dignity, but also the power of communities to incite these projects, make them their own, and enable them to thrive.
Twenty years ago, in the wake of apartheid’s recent end, the South African government made great promises to the community of Slovo Park, an informal settlement ten kilometers south of the township of Soweto in Johannesburg. It promised to provide them with resources; to provide the services necessary to construct homes; to – perhaps most importantly – recognize this informal settlement as a legitimate, formal community. When those promises fell flat under mismanagement and “an alleged corruption scandal,” the blame was placed – not on the government – but on the community members themselves, who were described as “criminals” and subsequently threatened with eviction.
In the early 2000s, the situation remained largely the same as ever. The 4000 residents of Slovo Park founded the Slovo Park Community Development Forum (SPCDF) to combat the stigmas surrounding them, take their development into their own hands, and force the outside world to recognize theirs as a legitimate, humane community.
In 2010, a small group of architecture students from the University of Pretoria began working with the SPCDF in order to facilitate design-build projects as part of their post-graduate studies. After an intense six weeks of participative research and discussion, the students and the community settled upon a design. From one on one discussions, one to one interviews, and, finally, 1:1 scale participative design-building, a community center and civic area was constructed on the site of a dilapidated Election Station, used in the election that ended apartheid in 1994. The design was intended to be a multi-phased incremental development, providing the immediate use of the meeting hall and public square, but to also allow for adaptations and additions to be developed over the long term. The 1to1 Agency of Engagement was born.
Today, according to director & co-founder Jhono Bennett, 1to1 “has evolved into a fully fledged non-profit entity that provides spatial design solutions to organised residents of poor or unsafe neighbourhoods in South Africa.” And while development in Slovo over the last four years has been slower than Bennett and his team would like, in the meantime, “the hall has provided a symbol of the unity that Slovo Park represents, a symbol to government bodies that often regard informal settlement communities as ungovernable criminals.”
But while the organization certainly strives to identify issues and help residents improve their communities, what makes 1to1 unusual is its overall goal and strategy for sustainability: to tap into and transform the design community in South Africa. In Bennett’s words:“South African schools of architecture have a tradition of service learning projects in poor or unsafe areas dating back to the politically charged atmosphere of 1980′s in South Africa such as Ian Louw’s work in Lesotho, Lone Poulsen’s projects in Gauteng (old Transvaal) and Rodney Harbers work in Kwa-Zulu Natal,” says Bennett, “Spatial design students we have been in contact with are hungry for ways to engage with our country’s larger re-development […] with 1to1 we hope to institutionalize the development of empathetic, effective and better equipped ‘socio-technical’ design practitioners in South Africa.”
Anton Bouwer, Dirk Coetser and John Saaiman – the trio who make up Architecture for a Change - are just such practitioners.“Our passion for architecture and the profession grew from experimental projects we did as students, getting our hands dirty and learning from experience,” Coetser tells me.
The three concentrate their efforts in the dense, informal settlements of zinc shacks surrounding Johannesburg, where infrastructural facilities – such as electricity and running water – are shared between homes. Due largely to the high levels of unemployment, the settlements suffer from high rates of alcohol and drug abuse, domestic violence, and HIV/AIDS. “Our goal is to create change through architectural intervention. We believe that the people who can benefit the most from design are the people who can’t afford it.”
The philosophy, Coetser says, is about “learning from the informal environment instead of imposing ideas onto communities.”Because of this, and also to instill a sense of ownership of the interventions, the trio relies heavily on the community’s input and participation: all designs are presented to the community for their feedback and finished only when consensus is achieved.
But many community-led projects follow a similar protocol — what makes Architecture for a Change unique is how they manage to manifest their philosophy into the designs themselves, incorporating the language of the local, informal architecture into their designs in order to legitimize it. As Coetser told me: “There is a stigma within informal housing in South-Africa that ‘real’ buildings are constructed from masonry. Our designs challenge that notion by using materials that are readily available and easy to use in informal settlements.” In one of their projects, a solar-powered bakery, community members were paid to bring glass bottles to site and then taught how to make bricks from them (a technique that has since been reproduced by community members for other projects). By making shack-like, locally-sourced structures that both perform far better than many mason constructions and fit into their context, Architecture for a Change’s designs implicitly suggest that the local context is just as legitimate as any other.Bottle bricks were manufactured by the community to construct some of the walls of the solar-powered bakery. Image Courtesy of Architecture for a Change。
Moreover, the designs incorporate inexpensive sustainable innovations. Most of Architecture for a Change’s projects include solar panels and rainwater harvesting devices, which means the structures can exist without needing to plug into the local (insufficient) infrastructures. “People mostly don’t have electrical power, which then leads to shack fires and many other health hazards (due to the use of fire for light and heating). A simple solar light completely eliminates these possible hazards. People usually share communal taps for water. The supplement of a water harvesting system provides much ease for occupants as they don’t have to carry buckets of water for long distances…these features provide the users with a sense of pride.”
And although Architecture for a Change has completed only four projects so far, the trio has many more on the horizon, including a school in Malawi and a community church currently being crowdfunded (with XX days to go) on Make Architecture Happen. We “take on a range of projects,” Coetser explains, “not refusing an opportunity but regarding every project as a challenge through which we can experiment and set new boundaries in the world of design.”Like Slovo Park’s community center and Architecture for Change’s solar-powered bakery, the Khayelitsha community center uses design to make a difference. What sets it apart, however, is its participation in a larger, long-term strategy of urban transformation.
Football for Hope is a large-scale alliance, established by FIFA and streetfootballworld and supported by Architecture for Humanity, targeting education and public health issues (via football-oriented developments) in socio-economically challenged neighborhoods across 14 countries in Africa. But despite its scope, Football for Hope functions locally, sending architects to live and work on-site to collaborate with reliable grassroots organizations and work with the community via focus groups, charrettes, public meetings, and exhibitions.Darren Gill, Regional Program Manager with Architecture for Humanity, explains, “When good design, and construction, is included, it … creates places that people can be proud of. The immediate impact is dignity.”
For the community center in Khayelitsha, one of the most violent settlements in Capetown, Football for Hope paired up with the Violence Prevention Through Urban Upgrading Program (VPUU), an organization that had been working in the area since 2005. Implementing a strategy of ‘urban acupuncture,’ they worked with the community to carefully determine and map the hotspots of violent crime – the places where design could make the greatest difference for the community. Thus, the Khayelitsha Centre, constructed in 2010, is just one of a number of community hubs, open 24/7 thanks to community volunteers, that run every 500 meters along a relatively safe, well-lit and paved route throughout the township.
The long-term impact in Khayelitsha has been tangible: in almost ten years, the township’s murder rate has dropped 33%. While crime rates in general have decreased, access to health, education, and economic opportunities are on the rise.The lesson Darren Gill, and Architeture for Humanity, take away from this success, is that the architect’s role in these projects must be to facilitate – ultimately, it is the community itself who must take ownership of and ensure the longevity of the design. And this means taking the time to listen to what the community wants, needs, and will be able to maintain. As Darren reminds me:
“The right answer is the one that comes from the people on the ground, and getting to the right answer can take time. Many architects are accustomed to a client that makes demands, whereasin this environment you need to invest time to build trust and harness ideas. Yes, it will consume more time now when everyone is screaming at you to just get the damn thing built, but ultimately it will save you time, money and disappointment later.
Plus, at the most basic level, having the users actively involved helps with ongoing building maintenance, i.e. when something goes wrong or breaks or needs to be expanded – and it will at some stage – the users have a better appreciation for the design intent and how to go about fixing, expanding etc. As architects we need to embrace the continued development of our work rather than pretending that our work will be fixed in time once the construction is complete.”
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