A dystopia is not simply a failed or broken society, it represents a system that has optimized a singular value at the expense of others. In the field of architecture, this separation of machine efficiency and humanity has created a sense of alienation. In the case of the discussion, the alienation of site and building, and of machines and humans. What if the true dystopia is not a system that leads to catastrophic failure or unsettling results, but a perfectly functioning one? The project takes a deep dive into the winery production as an excuse to revisit the topic of the architecture's machinery invisibility. The project explores how a strategic architectural intervention can subvert the dystopian efficiency of the contemporary "technosphere" by making industrial processes legible, sensuous, and civic, thereby proposing a new model of integrated urban production system that challenges the segregation of labor from public life. The project proposes that a building's organizational logic can be derived from the synthetic alignment of three forces: the existing urban infrastructure, the internal production sequence, and a public experiential narrative. The Core problem is the alienation of site and building, and of machines and humans. George Orwell's book 1984 presents a dystopia where space is weaponized for surveillance: telescreen that can't be turned off and windowless building. While not replicating its terror, contemporary architecture took an initiative to shy away from any resemblance of the sort. Yet, the purposeful act seems to create a form of alienation. An alienation between the site and building, and of humans and machines. Contemporary architecture either hides its production process inside the concrete and steel forest, or completely deconstructs and exposes it. The project seeks a third way. By making its infrastructural logic and productive labor transparent, functional, and public, it proposes an architecture of systemic honesty, a machine that liberates rather than controls, integrates rather than excludes. The project addresses the architectural problem of urban industrial invisibility. In the post Fordist city, production is either exiled to peripheries or concealed within neutral, generic boxes, severing the public from the material processes that sustain urban life. This creates a social and sensory deficit within what Albert Pope and Brittany Utting term the "technosphere", which implies that the urban environment is increasingly dominated by autonomous technological systems that operate outside of human perception and control. The author claims that "While humans created the physical manifestations and operational protocols of the technosphere, it increasingly functions independently of human agency." The project seizes the opportunity presented by a key feature unique to the Corbin site: its proximity to subway lines, as an argument for a new model that the building acts as the public machine that connects the city of New York. The core architectural idea operated through cross programming through orthogonal arrangements allows the vibrant and intersected activities to co-exist. It suggests that a building's organizational logic can be derived from the deliberate alignment of three forces: the existing urban infrastructure, the internal production sequence, and a public narrative. By rotating the building's internal systems 30 degrees to align with the diagonal flow of production and gravity, the project creates a deliberate and productive disjunction with its urban envelope. This formal strategy engages with the critical architectural vocabulary of deconstruction, where elements such as the orthogonal rectangular pieces and vertical facade systems are put into a state of charged tension. Contradicting to the dystopian norm where efficiency and experience can not coexist, this project argues otherwise. The concept of "machine dystopia" addressed in this project is not a futuristic fantasy of collapse, but a proposal for contemporary urbanism: a system of efficiency that renders its own workings visible and logical. The project confronts this condition not through nostalgic retreat, but through strategic engagement. It inhabits the grid of Manhattan's subway infrastructure to recalibrate a new means of urbanism, proposing that the machine's own language of efficiency and flow can be repurposed to create an architecture of civic interest and machine productivity. The project operates on two organizational scales. At the macro scale, it engages in what Keller Easterling defines as "extrastatecraft," the power of infrastructure space that she describes as operating "outside of, in addition to, and sometimes in conflict with the authority of the state." The project plugs directly into the city's subway infrastructure, with entries that penetrate its circulatory flows. At the micro scale, the project interior rejects a neutral "field" for a directed field condition. As Stan Allen describes, in a field condition the architecture is not about discrete objects but about gradients and relationships: "The field configurations are loosely bounded... they can be made from far-flung or discontinuous elements." Here, the enlarged mechanical frames become the primary organizational device: a hybrid of structure, circulation, and program. Allen suggests in his writing that instead of a rigid figure ground relationship and building as an isolated object, it should be relational, non-hierarchical, open-ended and gradient based. In the project, the entrance of the orbit building is connected directly onto its existing underground metro system, the spatial sequence is driven by the kinetic energy of production: gravitational forces. Contextually, the project is both environmentally and socially engaged. As shown in sectional drawing, the project's semi transparent facade system allows sunlight penetrating through which provides sufficient solar energy for vertical farming on the top of the building, for grape production or mechanical arm to operate. The slope also transforms gravity into a primary, passive energy system. Some might argue that the building facade is a mere nostalgic representation of the gothic architecture and its pointy arches. On the contrary, the facade is the very opposite of nostalgic but an articulated move that balances the history of the corbin building and the contemporary architecture. The origin of gothic architecture tracing back to the early 1200s, revolutionized Romanesque round arches with pointed liner arches. Which allows greater height and flexibility in structure. Contemporary architecture likewise relies largely on challenging the tectonics of material, the modern obfuscation of solid form together with processes of material industrialization and the convenience of lightweight structures for material distribution, shipping, assembly and construction has pushed architecture to become ever so light and hollow. The project Oblique Vines resembles what is very dominant in the gothic architecture, a pointed and linear arches, while the new facade does echo the corbin's old facade but also functions as load bearing structure which sets the foundation for the architecture's heavy nature yet still remains aesthetically light weight. The project employs different strategies. First, gravitational instrumentalization. Gravity is not accommodated but weaponized as an organizing, energy-saving, and a narrative device. The slanted frames are driven by gravity, the 30 degree angle allows the wines or any liquid and trash to circulate around the system with minimal energy loss. Secondly, the integration of a hybrid framework. The "enlarged mechanical framework" is a tactical deconstruction: it extracts the hidden, subordinate systems of a traditional factory, magnifies their scale, and integrates them into a synthetic, multifunctional architecture. This strategy dismantles the hierarchical relationship between the serving and the served spaces. Moreover, programmatic capitalization is achieved through cross-programming. The three-part entrance strategy separates different circulation paths while ensuring they remain perceptible and understandable to each other. The public "zigzag" path is a choreographed, participatory wandering route. The zig zag circulation routes that connect inside and outside of the oblique rectangular spaces, the "purchase at each landing" directly capitalizes on the constructed narrative, turning spatial revelation into economic support for the project's success. It acknowledges the building's economical value while challenging the economy's typical obfuscation of labor. The project ultimately argues that dystopia in contemporary architecture is not a condition of malfunction, that through deliberate Architectural techniques it can be transformed. The project tackles the problem of the alienation of machine and human space and the alienation of site and context. The project calls for both civic considerations, maximizing economical profits, and energy standpoint, the manifesto of a new machine dystopian.
Bibliography
- Alexander Pope and Brittany Utting, "The Sixth Sphere," Log 60, Winter Spring 2024, 9-18. Keller Easterling, "Zone," Extrastatescraft: the Power of Infrastructure Space (London: Verso, 2014), 23-59. Stan Allen, "Field Conditions," Points + Lines: Diagrams and Projects for the City (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1999), pp. 92-103 or from Landform Building (2010).