{"id":1242,"date":"2024-10-22T07:29:27","date_gmt":"2024-10-22T11:29:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/living.halekulani.com\/?p=1242"},"modified":"2025-01-14T13:58:35","modified_gmt":"2025-01-14T18:58:35","slug":"breezeblock-architecture","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/living.halekulani.com\/ja\/breezeblock-architecture\/","title":{"rendered":"\u30d1\u30bf\u30fc\u30f3\u8a8d\u8b58"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Ten years ago, when I first began exploring the neighborhoods around my wife\u2019s and my apartment along the Ala Wai Canal, I kept noticing the same architectural detail over and over: small, hollow concrete blocks, typically with some sort of shape or pattern in the middle, like snowflakes children cut out of paper. Entire walls were made of them, the repetition of dozens, even hundreds, of blocks stacked on top of one another creating an even larger, more intricate pattern. The effect was an architecture that felt both solid and porous, sturdy and fragile. I was mesmerized. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I snapped a photo and posted it on Instagram, wondering if there was a technical term for this detail. It was local curator and community developer Wei Fang, then of Interisland Terminal, now of Arts and Letters Nu\u2018uanu, who eventually supplied the answer. She wrote one word: #breezeblocks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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