IN 1971, PHILIP WYLIE wrote the teleplay for an episode of the TV series The Name of the Game entitled “L.A. 2017.” Set in a future where Los Angeles had been moved entirely underground due to lethally toxic air, the episode opens with a man driving to an environmental conference in 1971 who suddenly time-travels to 2017. He’s instantly knocked out by the contaminated atmosphere, then rescued and taken down a warren of tunnels to the surreal subterranean city. The story is one of many that have imagined salvation through underground dwelling after earth’s surface has been poisoned (for an early example, see E. M. Forster’s brilliant 1909 short story “The Machine Stops”). Tunneling down is perpetually offered as an escape route once the planet becomes unlivable, mirroring the urge to rocket upward in search of “Planet B.”

But what if tunneling was viewed differently? Instead of a dystopian split between ruined landscape and underground refuge, what if there were better ways to engage with the surface, and with better outcomes? A new book from TASCHEN, Dig It!: Building Bound to the Ground, looks at how humans have carved and dug into earth’s surface by offering a visual survey of architectural projects that “merge building and ground.” Such merging, the book argues, counteracts a long and destructive history of domination and separation from the surface (a.k.a. the natural landscape or unbuilt environment). It takes the Back to the Land movement literally, not just getting back to the land but into it.

Dutch architect Bjarne Mastenbroek1, his Amsterdam-based urban planning firm SeARCH, and photographer Iwan Baan spent a decade putting Dig It! together.

....

  • 1. A somewhat uncomfortable aspect of the book is that projects by Mastenbroek’s own firm, SeARCH, conclude each section. Their 20 projects are lauded, in layouts replete with puffy marketing copy, while work by others occasionally gets a lashing. The firm’s projects show a long dedication to merging with various sites, from building around a glacial boulder in Rotterdam to blending into a souk in Bahrain. While it is not unusual for architects to air their unfettered philosophical views to promote their artistic vision, this format felt like a subterfuge here, smuggling a corporate retrospective into a historical tome.