On the outskirts of Winnipeg, and I imagine in many North American cities, there are house shops with a collection of brand new houses ready to truck to the buyer’s site. They stand on stacks of wood ready to be moved. When the rollerskating rink closed on Portage close to Downtown these houses resembled a second hand house shop. In fact they were being taken from the site (in 2007) to be reused elsewhere. They look like standard pattern book houses but apparently required quite a few adaptations to their new location due to context specific aspects such as rights of light and overlooking. Note the truck wheels already under the houses ready for their move.
I am indebted to Colin Herperger for these pictures. When I lived in Canada I mentioned to him how much I liked the way Manitobans rebuilt their cars with duct tape (a good friend of mine used to have a Volvo estate that was held together with so much that it appeared as much tape as steel). Colin, a native of Saskatchewan, replied in his laconic Saskatchewan drawl “ah, we call that Sasky Chrome”. Inspired by the post a couple of days ago of the highly wrought hot rods at the L.A. Roadsters show, he sent me these to show how it is really done.
I have long admired the lightweight and inventive sports cars designed by Colin Chapman, especially in the late fifties, but when I was living in Canada I became interested in traditional hot rods, built out of pre-sixties cars but especially the pre ’50s cars where the separate chassis and flat glass makes the cars available for all sorts of home garage improvisation. These images are from the LA Roadsters Show in 2011.
These are fragments of a plaster cast of an Oak alter piece, now in Schleswig Cathedral, by Hans Brüggermann, c 1514-1521, also in the plaster court at the Victoria and Albert Museum. While the oak carving is clearly very accomplished, the reason for posting these pictures is the attention to detail in setting the casting lines, where the various parts of the moulds meet. The lines mark out a topology of separation to avoid undercut and cast strange contours on the figures.
Casting large sections of concrete is normally done in stages, where the previous pour is left to partially set before casting the next section. The Hoover dam was cast continuously in multiple sections, with careful temperature control, but it is an exception. The joint between the new and previous pour is tricky if the aim is to produce a monolithic continuity. The top of the previous pour has relatively little force on it, while the bottom of the new pour on top of it has the weight and pressure of all the concrete above it, pushing the formwork out further than the top of the previous pour. You can see that in this example in Winnipeg, where the second pour starts to fill the gap of the pushed out formwork, and the thickness of the wall increases at the bottom of the second pour. This example is for a housing project, but this similar examples can be found all over the Prairies in the bases to grain silos, where the sort of care normally taken in architectural situations is not required. Once solidified, the forces of formation are petrified in the joint.
Thanks to Phoebe chard for the Photos.
When building his own house in Kings Road, Hollywood (see here and here), Schindler used Irving Gill’s tilt slab method of casting his walls on the floor slab they had already cast. They started casting in Clyde Chase’s studio, where you can see evidence of the burlap separating layer in the castings. Schindler’s studio was the last on the list, by which time they had worked out the process. In Marion Chase and Pauline Schindler’s studios you can see how they got there. Here are samples from Clyde Chase and Rudolph Schindler’s studios.