KURIFUHANGĀ
A parasitic dwelling for activists.
Parasitic Dwellings
Throughout the first trimester of architectural study, I have been introduced to the problems and possible solutions around the Dutch housing crisis. As future designers, our cohort was asked to show the city of Eindhoven our viewpoint and ideas on housing through architectural design.
The fourth and final assignment was to design a ‘parasitic dwelling’ within or around the city of Eindhoven. The dwelling needed to provide for the housing needs of an individual design student for the duration of their studies in the city, a flexible and affordable housing unit that would allow for life and work and required minimal investment.
The idea of the dwelling was to pop-up and disappear when it was no longer needed, showing the city that alternative student housing doesn’t need a lot of time or money to make a real change. As part of the assignment, I was required to think about a location, a program, a concept, materiality, energy consumption and water usage.
The final project, KURIFUHANGĀ was presented as part of my end term exhibition.
KURIFUHANGĀ
Designed to appear as precarious as its name implies, Kurifuhangā is a bold statement to the policy makers and government officials of the city hall on which it hangs. This 22 square metre dwelling was made for Design Academy student Mari Ebisu from extruded sheets of Douglas wood, a softwood grown locally in the Netherlands and Belgium. The aesthetic borrows from traditional Japanese architecture while remaining consistent with Northern European and Nordic design. As the wood is naturally durable, treatment with chemicals is not necessary, lowering both its financial and environmental cost.
Kurifhangā’s relationship to the city’s town hall is as much social as it is physical. With the housing crisis in Eindhoven steadily growing worse, it’s time for members of parliament to update policies around shared living and residential zoning that will allow for a more inclusive rental market. Built to last only temporarily, Kurifhangā clings to the edge of the building’s three storey roof as a reminder to those deciding on the fate of the next generation of renters - we can’t hang on forever.
