These elements offer a wide variety of real estate for new programmatic uses, and cities around the world have begun to discover their potential. People also often forget that prison buildings are not limited to low-rise secure housing units - in fact, prisons feature an array of spaces that have great potential for reuse including buildings for light industrial activity, training or office buildings, low-security housing, and large outdoor spaces. Why repurpose prisons rather than starting fresh? The answer to this question lies in the inherent architectural features of the prison typology, namely the fact that these structures are built to last. These abandoned shells offer architects valuable opportunities to reimagine programmatic functions and transform an otherwise problematic location into an integral neighborhood space. However, a new pressure is about to emerge on the US prison systems: beginning in 2010, America's prison population declined for the first time in decades, suggesting that in the near future repurposing these structures will become a particularly relevant endeavor for both community development and economic sustainability.
In fact, the majority of prisons built in the United States since 1980 have been placed in non-metropolitan areas and once served as a substantial economic development strategy in depressed rural communities. After centuries of correctional facilities discouraging economic growth and occupying valuable real estate as a necessary component of towns and cities, many of these institutions have been relocated away from city centers and their abandoned vestiges are left as unpleasant reminders of their former use. Prisons are often seen as problematic for their local communities. The Former Bangalore jail in India, now Freedom Park. In recent years, no meaningful visits from independent journalists or monitoring groups have been permitted, so no recent photographs or other accounts exist of its interior space, except for the memories of Saydnaya survivors.
Located about 25 kilometers north of Damascus, Saydnaya stands in a German-designed building dating from the 1970s.
#Prison architect prisons folder series#
After passing through a series of interrogations and centers, many prisoners are taken to Saydnaya, a notoriously brutal “final destination,” where torture is used not to obtain information, but rather only to terrorize and often kill detainees. Since the beginnings of the Syrian crisis in 2011, tens of thousands of Syrians have been taken into a secret network of prisons and detention centers run by the Assad government for a variety of alleged crimes opposing the regime. The project, which was commissioned in 2016, reconstructs the architecture of the secret detention center from the memory of several survivors, who are now refugees in Turkey. Maybe you will get a pot plant in a few weeks.įorensic Architecture, a research agency based at the University of London, in collaboration with Amnesty International, has created a 3D model of Saydnaya, a Syrian torture prison, using architectural and acoustic modeling. Now multiply that by five days a week, 48 weeks a year. When you get outside and take a breath, you will instantly notice that the air outside is fresh. As you don't have an operable window, you have been breathing in recycled air all day. It might even feel a bit stuffy, regardless of the door being open or closed. The ventilation is alright, but you start to feel droopy at around 3pm because the carbon dioxide levels in your shoebox have risen. The fluorescent lighting that you sit under for eight hours has thrown out your body's natural circadian rhythm. If you are lucky, and you do have a window, it's fixed, and you are looking into an office in the neighbouring building that is five metres away. You have no real window or view to the outside, so you can't tell if it's raining outside or sunny. Your office has a glazed front, but you are looking into another open office. Imagine that you are in a cubicle located in the middle of the office floor plate. Guymer Bailey Melbourne Studio © Guymer Bailey Architects