Bianca and Daniël
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YURT

 

We started to build the yurt in the summer of 2020, in the former harbour of Gent. 

On the corner of our street willow pollards had just been pruned. Workers were going to feed the freshly harvested poles into the chopper, reducing them to wood chips. Pollarding is a technique which developed to grow these poles, a material well suited for many applications, from furniture making to dyke building. Nowadays pollards are maintained as part of our landscape, but the wood is not used much. Pollards require regular pruning; if neglected the poles become too big and can split the tree. Harvesting wood then doesn’t solely yields wood, but is also healthy for the tree. The wood is flexible and light, and can be peeled easily when freshly cut. 

Just the summer before finding the willow sticks, we were trekking for a month in Central Tien Shan, home to many yurts. These friendly round structures, dotted in the remote mountain valleys of Kyrgyzstan, offered us comfort and cozy breaks for tea. We were fascinated by the simplicity and ingenuity of yurts but would’ve probably not ventured to build one if we didn’t find the poles for building an entire frame, both roof and walls, just a few meters away from our doorstep.

 
 
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Fabric system 

Yurts and Gers have been around for centuries in Central Asia. Their design is fully optimised to the needs of the people that inhabit them and the harsh climate of the steppes. They were originally simply covered with felt. It would get wet when it rained, but it doesn’t rain very much on the steppes. Strong winds blow the felt dry rather quickly. In the 20th century, canvas was introduced under the Soviets and by now most tents have an outer layer of cotton canvas, and then several layers of felt for insulation. With this setup, yurts withstand strong winds and extreme temperatures, from +40 to -30 °C. In Belgium, though temperatures are more kind, such yurts would not last. The organic cotton and wool would rot away rather quickly due to high humidity. Simply importing straight from Mongolia is therefore a bad idea, the differences in climate require some serious rethinking of traditional designs.

In our set-up we work with four layers of fabric. On top of a light cotton liner sits a thick layer of felt, made from the wool of sheep that graze the island Texel in the Netherlands. On top of that, a heavy poly cotton canvas keeps the yurt dry. It resistant to mildew, but cannot stand UV-radiation. Therefore, a light titanspun polyester goes on top of the canvas to protect it from UV. The fabrics work together to form a breathable weatherproof envelope. We did the sewing on a Pfaff 138, a straight and zig-zag lockstitch machine from West Germany, which we found on 2dehands.be at a bargain. 

Frame 

The wooden frame that supports the fabric in traditional yurts is optimised for to the nomadic life of the steppes. It is lightweight incredibly quick to put up and break down. We adapted the walls and crown of the frame, making the structure heavier and the time required to build it up and break it down longer. However, these changes allow more light to enter and make it easier to ventilate.

We build the wall in four traditional khana sections, and four panels. These panels carry the door, two big double gazed windows and the stove pipe passage. The khana sections consist of collapsible trellis frames, willow poles joined at each intersection with propylene rope. 

The ends are knotted and burned to form a flexible joint. The willow pollards were easy to peel when fresh with a regular potato peeler. A tedious task, for which we invited friends to bring over their own potato peeler and help with peeling. Willow sticks peeling party. The two double glazed windows, the door and most of the wood for constructing the panels we scavenged from a renovation company’s container in the neighbourhood. This specific container is one of our regular sources of materials. The manager of the company is always happy when we come with the bakfiets to pick some of their garbage, since they have to pay for it to be taken away.

At the top of the structure, where all the roof poles meet, stands the crown (or toono). We designed ours to fit one large window on top that can open, and twelve smaller windows on the sides. In Turkic yurts, steam bending is a common strategy to achieve extra headroom close to the wall. In our case, this step was not necessary, since we simply selected the willow poles with the right curvature. The considerable weight of the roof poles, toono and fabrics pushes the walls outwards. The outward movement is halted by the tension band, which circumscribes the yurt at the point where the walls meet the roof poles. Without this band, the whole thing would simply collapse on itself. We used an old polyester firehose as tension band. We cut it open, sewed hems on either side and hooks on both ends. A system to tension the tension band on one of the panels allows us to level the walls, should the band stretch.

Flooring

We decided to build the the yurt on a platform, reducing its compactness and transportability. Another adaption that stems from the fact that we live in a much more humid climate. Under the platform is half a metre of crawl space for utilities. The platform consist of a simple frame from recycled beams, a layer of betonplex, 12 cm PIR isolation, and a wooden plank floor. The floor was recuperated from an old bank building that was being demolished.

 
 
Toono

Toono

 
 
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INTERIOR

All the wood used in the interior is recycled.

The pallet wood is the most predominant, since pallets are widely available for free, as structural waste. We take the pallets apart with a crowbar, then remove the nails, sand and oil the wood. It is quite a laborious job compared to buying the wood new. Apart from pallet wood we used many different kinds of wood, scavenged from various sources. Most containers are either company containers, filled with structural waste, or containers serving a construction or renovation project, popping up unexpectedly, continuously changing location. Much of the tropical wood (Meranti, Afzelia, Afrormosia, Azobe) comes from the same container where we got our windows and door. The old door and window frames form an excellent source of high quality hard woods. Our oak tabletop is made from a the old staircase of a house in a 17th century beguinage. The desk, and much of the pear and poplar we used come from the container of a film studio, part of the decor for the Flemish series ‘Thieves of the Wood'. Most of our beech, oak and mahogany were found on the streets, from old thrown away furniture. 

For the kitchen we built according to our needs various storage compartments (cabinets, drawers and shelves), a sink and a 4 pit cooker with oven from the ‘50s (found on Marktplaats.nl). For the cooker we turned the nozzles ourselves on the lathe to convert it from natural gas to propane, since the parts were impossible to find for this specific Atag model.

Small details like switches, knobs, handles and hooks we gathered from the scrapyard, flea markets or containers. 

The hanging lamps we made from waste glass. Glass is also a material which can be commonly found for free, from old windows and doors, or simply broken glass. As proved, even broken pieces of glass can still be reused, cut to size and made something nice and useful of it.

As a heating source, we chose for a portable tile stove from Teracota Medias. The tradition of making terracotta tiles goes back to the potter’ guilds in the 14th and 15th century Transylvania. Every tile is pressed, polished, glazed and painted by hand, with traditional Saxon motifs. It features a burning chamber and several flues. The combustion gasses, before they escape through the stovepipe, will have to travel through the flues and give off much of their heat to the surrounding brickwork and tiles. These absorb the heat and slowly release it. Since it weighs 200kg, it was quite a challenge to bring it to Belgium and then lift it inside the yurt. But definitely worth the trouble; it keeps us warm and cozy.

 
 
Kitchen
 
 
 
 
 

@Eva Donckers

 
 
 

@Eva Donckers

@Eva Donckers

 
 

@Eva Donckers

 
 

@Eva Donckers

 
 

@Eva Donckers

 
 

@Eva Donckers

Eva Donckers

 
 

PHILOSOPHY

Professionals usually don’t work with waste materials such as pallets or repurposed door frames, not because of the quality of the material, but because of the time required for processing. Removing screws, nails, hinges, paint, PUR, Kit, etc is slow and laborious. Once cleaned, getting the wood to work together in a design that is both functional and beautiful typically requires more creative manoeuvres than if one would simply order the materials new in the needed dimensions on the internet (or pick it up at the local hardware store). Standardisation and automation, which make modern production efficient and cheap, are quite impossible when each beam and plank has its unique dimensions, faults and qualities. Repurposing waste materials is then, for the majority of applications, not economically viable. 

We built the yurt with 80% waste materials (garbage), 5% second hand materials (or objects, such as our cooker) and 15% new, local or crafted materials/ objects (such as the sheep felt or the wood stove). Whether completely recycled, bought second hand or new, we always try to provide responsibly our raw materials, as well as the everyday use objects. When building, we consider our personal needs and comfort, while keeping in mind the social and cultural context, local available materials (mostly garbage) and the environment. 

Recycled materials are never uniform or standard. But idiosyncratic or quirky traits can become an integral part of the composition, rather than a nuisance that obstructs series production. As a consequence, the final product, whether a dining table or a garden bench, cannot be reproduced; each object turns out distinct. 

Another benefit of working with waste materials is that the making process stays challenging and creative, both for the hands and the head. The restraints and non-uniformity of the materials force us to come up with creative solutions to technical problems. It is a rather fluent way of thinking and working, since the ideas mostly grow out of the specific collected materials. 

We could argue that building a shelter from waste materials in the city is a form of vernacular architecture, since garbage is the only local and abundant material to be found in urban areas. Moreover, we designed and built the yurt in a low-tech fashion (without help from experts) which is also characteristic to vernacular architecture. 

If appreciation for crafts, good food, self-sufficiency, living with the seasons, simplicity and friendliness are values which we try to embrace, then definitely the yurt offers us a good context to live, work and reflect.

 
 

@Eva Donckers

@Eva Donckers