"Gathering" by Ginna Nguyen, So Sugita, Dale Suttle
"Gathering challenging the temporal nature of Sukkot, with a wooden structure that can take on countless shapes, never being the same twice, constantly shifting and relocating and redefining itself, like the Jews."
"For forty years, the Israelites wandered the desert. They found rest from their wandering, communing with one another in shelters built of brush and trees. The city is similar. We wander its streets and get lost in its chaos. In the city we search for our own trees and our own temporary moments of urban intimacy. And whether wandering through the desert for forty years or through the city for a day, all people desire respite. The Sukkah is an icon for this relief from transience, and this project explores what a temporary structure can be in the urban environment through a non-linear design.
The relationship of urban transience to the non-linear system is in how singular bodies move towards certain attraction points within given conditions. The result is a calculated yet unpredictable pattern. As the sticks shift, they create a specific entry and space of occupation for the user. Now the movement and body of the user have a direct interaction with the structure itself. The aggregation of the branches and the degree range of enclosure also allows for movement, creating a variation of porosity. The angle and flow of the sticks shades the reflecting soul during the day and at night guides the dweller’s eyes and spirit up to the stars. This process creates a phenomenological space – through its randomness, light is manipulated and it is through this intangible material that a space becomes dynamic, reaching to the intangible spirit."
"Gathering challenging the temporal nature of Sukkot, with a wooden structure that can take on countless shapes, never being the same twice, constantly shifting and relocating and redefining itself, like the Jews."
"For forty years, the Israelites wandered the desert. They found rest from their wandering, communing with one another in shelters built of brush and trees. The city is similar. We wander its streets and get lost in its chaos. In the city we search for our own trees and our own temporary moments of urban intimacy. And whether wandering through the desert for forty years or through the city for a day, all people desire respite. The Sukkah is an icon for this relief from transience, and this project explores what a temporary structure can be in the urban environment through a non-linear design.
The relationship of urban transience to the non-linear system is in how singular bodies move towards certain attraction points within given conditions. The result is a calculated yet unpredictable pattern. As the sticks shift, they create a specific entry and space of occupation for the user. Now the movement and body of the user have a direct interaction with the structure itself. The aggregation of the branches and the degree range of enclosure also allows for movement, creating a variation of porosity. The angle and flow of the sticks shades the reflecting soul during the day and at night guides the dweller’s eyes and spirit up to the stars. This process creates a phenomenological space – through its randomness, light is manipulated and it is through this intangible material that a space becomes dynamic, reaching to the intangible spirit."
THEVERYMANY, P.GROS.C
"Embrace tradition while decorating it your way..."
P.YGROS.C proposes to reinvent the common Sukkah morphology into a continuous network of timber grid shell structures - yet following the ancestral rules.
Wood is a natural fiber-composite material. Due to its ANISOTROPIC MICROSTRUCTURE (directional dependency of its structural properties), overlapping two layers of stripes as thin as timber veneer, if of opposite direction, creates a very strong and rigid structure - yet extremely lightweight (ease of assembly) and translucent…
The three dimensional lattice is wrapping around itself to create rigid pipe like structures, that bundle together, shaping from ground up three organic walls that join and twirl at the top, shaping three gigantic oculars toward the sky. In order to discover the created channeled views to the stars one has to insert his/her head within one of the lower polyps / trumpet aperture - discovering within the intricate network many side views offering social interaction and all sorts of possible effects through the filtering of light...
Thin timber veneer stripes also display DELIQUESCENT QUALITIES (defined as the materials’ potential to absorb humidity from its ambient surrounding environment). What can usually be perceived as a negative effect can actually produce passive variations along the life of the Sukkah and activate its surrounding.
Through absorption of moisture -and respectively its disposal- the material expands or contracts while undergoing dimensional changes. Purposely over-extended tips of the wooden strips allow a real time passive registration of the humidity level of its environment by bending up and twisting into natural curly shapes during wet weather -revealing the bright green painted under faces- and bending back to a flat wood aspect when dry….
What can be seen as a tip to curls behaviors is also aiming to activate social awareness to passive energy to the surrounding of the Union Square public plaza...
"Embrace tradition while decorating it your way..."
P.YGROS.C proposes to reinvent the common Sukkah morphology into a continuous network of timber grid shell structures - yet following the ancestral rules.
Wood is a natural fiber-composite material. Due to its ANISOTROPIC MICROSTRUCTURE (directional dependency of its structural properties), overlapping two layers of stripes as thin as timber veneer, if of opposite direction, creates a very strong and rigid structure - yet extremely lightweight (ease of assembly) and translucent…
The three dimensional lattice is wrapping around itself to create rigid pipe like structures, that bundle together, shaping from ground up three organic walls that join and twirl at the top, shaping three gigantic oculars toward the sky. In order to discover the created channeled views to the stars one has to insert his/her head within one of the lower polyps / trumpet aperture - discovering within the intricate network many side views offering social interaction and all sorts of possible effects through the filtering of light...
Thin timber veneer stripes also display DELIQUESCENT QUALITIES (defined as the materials’ potential to absorb humidity from its ambient surrounding environment). What can usually be perceived as a negative effect can actually produce passive variations along the life of the Sukkah and activate its surrounding.
Through absorption of moisture -and respectively its disposal- the material expands or contracts while undergoing dimensional changes. Purposely over-extended tips of the wooden strips allow a real time passive registration of the humidity level of its environment by bending up and twisting into natural curly shapes during wet weather -revealing the bright green painted under faces- and bending back to a flat wood aspect when dry….
What can be seen as a tip to curls behaviors is also aiming to activate social awareness to passive energy to the surrounding of the Union Square public plaza...
Fractured Bubble by Henry Grosman and Babak Bryan
This sukkah is a bubble made of simple materials, plywood, marsh grass and twine. Its form is a sphere, fractured into three sections. Each section is rotated around a common datum. The structural grid and the rotation are all controlled parametrically.
Because of the spherical geometry, each of the sections is both wall and roof simultaneously. To make this kosher we provide three sections- (like walls) and we cover them with s’chach (like roofs). The visitor enters through the fractures.
The s’chach is made of phragmites, an invasive species that has taken over our wetlands. It grows fast and tall, and it is readily available for free. The phragmites attach loosely to the sukkah through randomly scattered holes in the ribs. They follow the curvature of the sections to create a crosshatched affect which provides shade from the sun. The density is calibrated such that one can still see stars at night.
The circles and the twine infill the surface of the sukkah. The twine creates another layer of crosshatch and the circles create the holes in the bubble. The parametric control of the structure allows the holes to frame selected views from any given site, to tailor the experience of looking out through the bubble.
The inspiration for our design came from a conversation that we had discussing the implications of a sukkah to be built in such a public place like union square. Unlike a sukkah that would be found in front of a temple or in one’s backyard a sukkah in union square would only allow for a brief respite. However in any situation a sukkah for us is understood as a place where one would be able to take a moment and step outside of their normal routines and pause with their loved ones to stop and reflect on their place in the world. As such, a sukkah becomes a place that separates inside from outside, a place where one can be within and look back out and see their place in the world. As a temporary structure it becomes an ephemeral place that for these moments provides a sanctuary. From this the idea of a bubble emerged. Then, we applied some of our thoughts of the Talmudic requirements and first thought of the provision where one is to see the stars at night. This act has the power to place us as humans in our context as individuals in this extensive universe. Unfortunately in NYC these stars cannot be seen like they are in the desert, but further reflection realized that gazing upon the wonder of new York has the same experience. Thus we created a Sukkah with apertures that allow one to see the city, allowing for a similar modern experience of this ancient wonderment. From there we continued to apply the laws and covered our bubble with schach, in our case, phragmites, an invasive marsh grass that grows abundantly in this region. Further applying the laws we realized that we would need to separate our sphere or bubble into sections to provide for three walls. The walls, each a section of the sphere are both wall and roof and are therefore all covered with the phragmites. Also allowing for this fracturing, creates an entrance as well as satisfying the laws of the wall."
"Fractured Bubble honors the agricultural roots of Sukkot, bringing holiday observers into what feels like a chestnut burr—foreboding spikiness on the outside, patterned hominess inside. Though it’s made of marsh grasses from Queens, the deliberate foregrounding of vegetation lends universality to this sukkah. It speaks directly to the autumn harvest, displaying the lulav and etrog, over which morning prayers are recited. The bubble is fractured into three parts, allowing for physical entry and exit as well as for the critical exposure of the schach, a roof created simply by extending the phragmites grasses up to the sky. This sukkah captures the spirit of Sukkot both through the authenticity of its vegetated cladding and through its use of elemental shapes. Indeed, Fractured Bubble was the “2010 People’s Choice Sukkah of New York City,” and the only sukkah to remain in Union Square throughout Sukkot."
This sukkah is a bubble made of simple materials, plywood, marsh grass and twine. Its form is a sphere, fractured into three sections. Each section is rotated around a common datum. The structural grid and the rotation are all controlled parametrically.
Because of the spherical geometry, each of the sections is both wall and roof simultaneously. To make this kosher we provide three sections- (like walls) and we cover them with s’chach (like roofs). The visitor enters through the fractures.
The s’chach is made of phragmites, an invasive species that has taken over our wetlands. It grows fast and tall, and it is readily available for free. The phragmites attach loosely to the sukkah through randomly scattered holes in the ribs. They follow the curvature of the sections to create a crosshatched affect which provides shade from the sun. The density is calibrated such that one can still see stars at night.
The circles and the twine infill the surface of the sukkah. The twine creates another layer of crosshatch and the circles create the holes in the bubble. The parametric control of the structure allows the holes to frame selected views from any given site, to tailor the experience of looking out through the bubble.
The inspiration for our design came from a conversation that we had discussing the implications of a sukkah to be built in such a public place like union square. Unlike a sukkah that would be found in front of a temple or in one’s backyard a sukkah in union square would only allow for a brief respite. However in any situation a sukkah for us is understood as a place where one would be able to take a moment and step outside of their normal routines and pause with their loved ones to stop and reflect on their place in the world. As such, a sukkah becomes a place that separates inside from outside, a place where one can be within and look back out and see their place in the world. As a temporary structure it becomes an ephemeral place that for these moments provides a sanctuary. From this the idea of a bubble emerged. Then, we applied some of our thoughts of the Talmudic requirements and first thought of the provision where one is to see the stars at night. This act has the power to place us as humans in our context as individuals in this extensive universe. Unfortunately in NYC these stars cannot be seen like they are in the desert, but further reflection realized that gazing upon the wonder of new York has the same experience. Thus we created a Sukkah with apertures that allow one to see the city, allowing for a similar modern experience of this ancient wonderment. From there we continued to apply the laws and covered our bubble with schach, in our case, phragmites, an invasive marsh grass that grows abundantly in this region. Further applying the laws we realized that we would need to separate our sphere or bubble into sections to provide for three walls. The walls, each a section of the sphere are both wall and roof and are therefore all covered with the phragmites. Also allowing for this fracturing, creates an entrance as well as satisfying the laws of the wall."
"Fractured Bubble honors the agricultural roots of Sukkot, bringing holiday observers into what feels like a chestnut burr—foreboding spikiness on the outside, patterned hominess inside. Though it’s made of marsh grasses from Queens, the deliberate foregrounding of vegetation lends universality to this sukkah. It speaks directly to the autumn harvest, displaying the lulav and etrog, over which morning prayers are recited. The bubble is fractured into three parts, allowing for physical entry and exit as well as for the critical exposure of the schach, a roof created simply by extending the phragmites grasses up to the sky. This sukkah captures the spirit of Sukkot both through the authenticity of its vegetated cladding and through its use of elemental shapes. Indeed, Fractured Bubble was the “2010 People’s Choice Sukkah of New York City,” and the only sukkah to remain in Union Square throughout Sukkot."
"Shim Sukkah" by tinder, tinker
The design was inspired by a screen porch with cedar to ward off mosquitoes. The shims are held together by dowels, “allowing each one to maintain its own identity yet be moved as wished,” said team member David Getty. Cedar shakes are trimmed to typical shim dimensions and the structure is furnished with a cedar picnic bench and chairs (complete with matching chopsticks).
"In Shim Sukkah, for example, the designer exploits the taper of the shims, anchoring the thick ends and allowing the thin ends to fan out and intersect, creating comb-like textures and rhythmically interrupted views. Use of a shim is typically an afterthought, a way to fix mistakes. Here, however, the shim is elevated to near luxury: it forms a porous partition that becomes the structure itself. The roof and walls are treated the same way, yielding a form that alters shape in its surface but always retains its essential box shape. It changes rigorously, yet remains the same. In the end, Shim Sukkah wants to be as transparent as possible, to disappear. The nearby piles of sawdust hint that given enough time, the force of rotation could grind the shims to piles of even smaller shims on the ground."
A wood shim is a rather ordinary thing used in building, a tool of the trade. It is most often used to fill space between things (ie. gaps in construction). The typical profile tapers from 1/4” to nothing over 16” (roughly 4 handbreadths). For Shim Sukkah, this becomes the building block. Stacking of these tapered elements allows for structure and the disintegration of structure to exist closely, within the same thing. The floor, walls, and roof all become the space between. The Sukkah enclosure vanishes with the material characteristics to reveal the inhabitant/s inside and the environment it which the sukkah resides, within the park, the city, under the night sky.
Shim Sukkah is constructed of humble shims, a commonly discarded element of building, used to level surfaces, becomes the unit of construction.
Shim Sukkah, which began as Getty’s graduate thesis project, explores the duality of permanence and impermanence through stacked and rotated columns of wooden shims – a material used in traditional construction to fill open gaps. The resulting structure incorporates some 8,200 strips of shim in all and creates a haunting sense of both sheltering and vanishing.
The design was inspired by a screen porch with cedar to ward off mosquitoes. The shims are held together by dowels, “allowing each one to maintain its own identity yet be moved as wished,” said team member David Getty. Cedar shakes are trimmed to typical shim dimensions and the structure is furnished with a cedar picnic bench and chairs (complete with matching chopsticks).
"In Shim Sukkah, for example, the designer exploits the taper of the shims, anchoring the thick ends and allowing the thin ends to fan out and intersect, creating comb-like textures and rhythmically interrupted views. Use of a shim is typically an afterthought, a way to fix mistakes. Here, however, the shim is elevated to near luxury: it forms a porous partition that becomes the structure itself. The roof and walls are treated the same way, yielding a form that alters shape in its surface but always retains its essential box shape. It changes rigorously, yet remains the same. In the end, Shim Sukkah wants to be as transparent as possible, to disappear. The nearby piles of sawdust hint that given enough time, the force of rotation could grind the shims to piles of even smaller shims on the ground."
A wood shim is a rather ordinary thing used in building, a tool of the trade. It is most often used to fill space between things (ie. gaps in construction). The typical profile tapers from 1/4” to nothing over 16” (roughly 4 handbreadths). For Shim Sukkah, this becomes the building block. Stacking of these tapered elements allows for structure and the disintegration of structure to exist closely, within the same thing. The floor, walls, and roof all become the space between. The Sukkah enclosure vanishes with the material characteristics to reveal the inhabitant/s inside and the environment it which the sukkah resides, within the park, the city, under the night sky.
Shim Sukkah is constructed of humble shims, a commonly discarded element of building, used to level surfaces, becomes the unit of construction.
Shim Sukkah, which began as Getty’s graduate thesis project, explores the duality of permanence and impermanence through stacked and rotated columns of wooden shims – a material used in traditional construction to fill open gaps. The resulting structure incorporates some 8,200 strips of shim in all and creates a haunting sense of both sheltering and vanishing.
"Sukkah of the Signs" by Ronald Rael, Virginia San Fratello
Just as the sukkah commemorates shelter provided during the forty desert-wandering years of Exodus, the design for our sukkah brings attention to the contemporary state of homelessness and wandering within the United States and is clad with signs made by the homeless and destitute. By purchasing homeless signs from the individuals who made them, we are also contributing to a meal for someone who might not otherwise be able to eat today in honor of the primary and traditional role of sukkah, which is a feast of bounty, of hospitality, and of welcoming strangers. Additionally the corrugated board shingles are made of the fibers of hardwood trees. Therefore, one could equate them to the historical use of branches on the sukkah roofs. The frame of our sukkah tapers as it moves up toward the sky to draw the eye up and also to provide a smaller framework for the shingles that are less than 4 handbreadths—relating directly to the presence and scale of the hand in each of the handmade signs. This sukkah, if built for Sukkah City, will be auctioned and the funds donated to a homeless shelter in New York City.
During a holiday commemorating the survival of Israelites brought out of Egypt, Sukkah of the Signs employs as its very building blocks the contemporary flotsam of exile. Falling in the same “repeated element” category as Shim Sukkah, this sukkah also multiplies one unit into a surface texture. But here, the repeating element (cardboard signs asking for support) is handcrafted by very different people in a similar situation (homelessness). In this instance, the structure of the building is secondary—it acts more as an armature to support these signs, a kind of activist billboard. Each sign draws attention to a particular life. Taken as a whole, the body of signs demands attention to a failing social and economic system.
It’s fitting, then, that an auction of Sukkah of the Signs (as well as the other winning sukkahs), was set to benefit Housing Works, a charity fighting homelessness. Unfortunately, it appears no one entered a $5,000 minimum bid at HW’s online auction. But maybe that failure to sell at auction signifies success in design. After all, these are not the sukkahs one would find in Sukkah Depot. These designs are meant to give pause, to provoke and to stir discussion.
One of the finalist designs took the homeless theme literally. “Sukkah of the Signs,” conceived by an architectural firm in Oakland, CA, utilized nearly 300 signs bought from homeless people in the San Francisco Bay area to illustrate the transient nature of the shelter provided by a sukkah.
Just as the sukkah commemorates shelter provided during the forty desert-wandering years of Exodus, the design for our sukkah brings attention to the contemporary state of homelessness and wandering within the United States and is clad with signs made by the homeless and destitute. By purchasing homeless signs from the individuals who made them, we are also contributing to a meal for someone who might not otherwise be able to eat today in honor of the primary and traditional role of sukkah, which is a feast of bounty, of hospitality, and of welcoming strangers. Additionally the corrugated board shingles are made of the fibers of hardwood trees. Therefore, one could equate them to the historical use of branches on the sukkah roofs. The frame of our sukkah tapers as it moves up toward the sky to draw the eye up and also to provide a smaller framework for the shingles that are less than 4 handbreadths—relating directly to the presence and scale of the hand in each of the handmade signs. This sukkah, if built for Sukkah City, will be auctioned and the funds donated to a homeless shelter in New York City.
During a holiday commemorating the survival of Israelites brought out of Egypt, Sukkah of the Signs employs as its very building blocks the contemporary flotsam of exile. Falling in the same “repeated element” category as Shim Sukkah, this sukkah also multiplies one unit into a surface texture. But here, the repeating element (cardboard signs asking for support) is handcrafted by very different people in a similar situation (homelessness). In this instance, the structure of the building is secondary—it acts more as an armature to support these signs, a kind of activist billboard. Each sign draws attention to a particular life. Taken as a whole, the body of signs demands attention to a failing social and economic system.
It’s fitting, then, that an auction of Sukkah of the Signs (as well as the other winning sukkahs), was set to benefit Housing Works, a charity fighting homelessness. Unfortunately, it appears no one entered a $5,000 minimum bid at HW’s online auction. But maybe that failure to sell at auction signifies success in design. After all, these are not the sukkahs one would find in Sukkah Depot. These designs are meant to give pause, to provoke and to stir discussion.
One of the finalist designs took the homeless theme literally. “Sukkah of the Signs,” conceived by an architectural firm in Oakland, CA, utilized nearly 300 signs bought from homeless people in the San Francisco Bay area to illustrate the transient nature of the shelter provided by a sukkah.
"LOG" by Kyle May and Scott Abrahams
LOG inverts the typical earthly foundation of a lightweight structure, which is in the ground, and actually places the foundation above the structure. In a place of religious reflection, a foundation from above has a special meaning. The cedar LOG used is an object of contemplation in and of itself, as cedar is mentioned 76 times in the Bible. Without the heavenly foundation, the fragile glass walls would not stand. The log becomes a surprising exaggeration in scale of the typical s’chach roof found in a Sukkah. The laminated glass walls allow the inhabitants of this Sukkah to peer out into the earthly world from which they are part of, while still being separate from such world for the duration of this celebration. Inside the glass walls one finds two simplistic gestures: a table and a candle - the essential programmatic devices. The table provides a place for the recital of the blessings and communal feasting, and the candle provides light to the inhabitants. Neither device touches the ground, but are suspended from the LOG, and are positioned to create a zone of programmatic intensity, within a very simplistic and poetic structure. The log provides minimal protection from sunlight, changes the way the space is used during the day by the area the shadow is cast, and focuses the inhabitants view upwards at night, towards the heavens.
LOG plays the most with the limits of kosher. It is a sukkah with an 18-foot tree trunk as a roof. This feels simultaneously appropriate and confounding. The log concentrates the solid part of the roof, allowing for larger openings—arguably creating the most openness. Yet it asserts itself, and you cannot look up without being aware of it. The log’s psychological force bears down even while it’s physically suspended.
LOG invokes the post-and-lintel roots of architecture by featuring the most elemental building block—wood in its essential form—but its steel and glass walls betray an industrial aesthetic. This juxtaposition of rough-hewn and slick materials is a contemporary trend, and the log is something of a sign, more iconic than functional. While inviting others to gaze into your Sukkot meditation and visitation, the Log sukkah also reflects its surroundings. The overlapping scenes behind and beyond the observer collapse space in a partly transparent, partly mirrored surface. This spatial mirroring/transparency evokes the time-collapse of the holiday itself: the immediacy of meditation and visitation combined with ritual modeling of ancestral conditions, a measured re-creation of the exodus.
LOG inverts the typical earthly foundation of a lightweight structure, which is in the ground, and actually places the foundation above the structure. In a place of religious reflection, a foundation from above has a special meaning. The cedar LOG used is an object of contemplation in and of itself, as cedar is mentioned 76 times in the Bible. Without the heavenly foundation, the fragile glass walls would not stand. The log becomes a surprising exaggeration in scale of the typical s’chach roof found in a Sukkah. The laminated glass walls allow the inhabitants of this Sukkah to peer out into the earthly world from which they are part of, while still being separate from such world for the duration of this celebration. Inside the glass walls one finds two simplistic gestures: a table and a candle - the essential programmatic devices. The table provides a place for the recital of the blessings and communal feasting, and the candle provides light to the inhabitants. Neither device touches the ground, but are suspended from the LOG, and are positioned to create a zone of programmatic intensity, within a very simplistic and poetic structure. The log provides minimal protection from sunlight, changes the way the space is used during the day by the area the shadow is cast, and focuses the inhabitants view upwards at night, towards the heavens.
LOG plays the most with the limits of kosher. It is a sukkah with an 18-foot tree trunk as a roof. This feels simultaneously appropriate and confounding. The log concentrates the solid part of the roof, allowing for larger openings—arguably creating the most openness. Yet it asserts itself, and you cannot look up without being aware of it. The log’s psychological force bears down even while it’s physically suspended.
LOG invokes the post-and-lintel roots of architecture by featuring the most elemental building block—wood in its essential form—but its steel and glass walls betray an industrial aesthetic. This juxtaposition of rough-hewn and slick materials is a contemporary trend, and the log is something of a sign, more iconic than functional. While inviting others to gaze into your Sukkot meditation and visitation, the Log sukkah also reflects its surroundings. The overlapping scenes behind and beyond the observer collapse space in a partly transparent, partly mirrored surface. This spatial mirroring/transparency evokes the time-collapse of the holiday itself: the immediacy of meditation and visitation combined with ritual modeling of ancestral conditions, a measured re-creation of the exodus.