Hidden within Amsterdam’s Nieuw-West area sits Parkrand. It’s more than just a building. Some have even called it “fuckin’ architecture”. Parkrand is a statement, a sculpture. It’s been likened to a giant toy, a megastructure, a window frame, even a carved-out hunk of feta cheese. Imagine over 200 apartments nestled within this architectural marvel. Parkrand’s design is a bold experiment. Five interconnected towers rise from a raised communal patio, reaching towards the sky. Rooftop penthouses crown the structure. This layout creates an airy, open feel with a variety of views. The semi-public patios face the park, offering secure access to intimate spaces and playgrounds. One resident, Laura, initially thought Parkrand looked like a prison. Now, she loves the view from her window. She wishes for more greenery within the building’s “envelope”. The first-floor amenity space, more art gallery than garden, feels stark and intimidating. Oversized flower pots and lampshades attempt to create a sense of homeliness. Undersized elephants add a touch of whimsy, though the novelty might wear off. These vast covered outdoor spaces can get noisy. A set of 14 “House Rules,” pinned up in the lobby, attempts to maintain order. Extensive white glazed tiles, surprisingly free of graffiti, are varied with texture changes and black tiled super-graphic signage. It’s stylish, undeniably architects’ architecture. The car and bike parking on the west side, however, is a sprawling mess. It disrupts the entrance sequence. Does Parkrand prioritize architectural conceit over community? That’s a question worth pondering. Nearby, MVRDV’s older people’s housing scheme, Oklahoma, stands as a testament to their enduring design. Parkrand remains a fascinating experiment in urban living, a bold blend of art and architecture.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to