In describing today’s project, I wanted to refer to Little Island in New York — the column structures seemingly designed by the same bureau (though they weren’t), but I was surprised to find that the park is missing from the article list. If you’re interested, let me know in the comments, and I’ll share about the most generous urbanistic gift to New York.
Now back to the library. Like most large public spaces that have been in the news lately, this project is located in China. The first thing that catches my eye is not the columns, but the height of the glazing, with no hint of visible distortion. I could be wrong, but judging by the photos, the height of individual fragments reaches about 18 meters.
Next comes an associative line related to China’s nature. The columns I mentioned resemble the local ginkgo tree. They serve not only a supportive and visual function but also incorporate hidden technical functionality in the form of a climate control and lighting system. The second natural aspect is the stepped canyon, reminiscent of traditional terraced slopes found in China.
While viewing the photos, another important question may arise: it’s all beautiful, but where are the bookshelves? Snøhetta developed a special automated book storage and retrieval system. Take a look at the cross-section in the first comment — the storage is hidden underground, and its volume appears as grand as the dimensions of the aforementioned glass panels. Functionally, this solution offers numerous advantages, from efficiency and speed in finding books to safety. However, the radical reduction of visual contact with books leads to a diminished perception of what a library is.
PS It seems it’s time to discuss the source of such unrestrained construction momentum in China and where it leads.