AA Files 15

"-

,.-

~

x

'"

" / ,.,/

?

~

x

,-

>'

/

" .x.

'"

,

;/

•

x

ANN"ALS Or'THE ARCHITECT .... '

/

OF ARC

x

//

,

/' .

~

,

•

<

-

" '"' ,r

/

<

",..

, "

>.

. - ;.:e= "---~ ~ .' y>..,... .... >

~

;.L -:: ....--;::: -

<

•

.

""' ... -< ,.. •

0(

><.,.

,

•

,

-<

~

•

••

, .'

<

;,-:- ;;;- •

-->

,

>

<

"

• <

, •

•

>(

•

•

•

,

<

~

•

"

>- •

",

/

y

•

~~><

.... "'.

•

'"•

•

~y:

w

." Ja;..

" ><

• •

•

'

x

•

,.. ,

.;::;. . . ><".

-

•

,

>

•

, •

. ~... -.

,.>

>

• •

•

•

)(

•

•

$,

,

•

><

•

•

•

•

•

>< <

'-

"Y-'

,

"

•

>

:\.

-

><"

>

><,?

<

..\

">

> "

~

~y

,..

.><

.x

\

•

-

\

, I •

I

, •

"

-

TAKE OR TAKE THE CON EQUENC 5

Annals of the Architectural Association School of Architecture Number IS , published Summer 1987

Contents

3 CHARLOTTE PERRIAND: HER FIRST DECADE AS A DESIGNER Mary McLeod 14 LE CORBUSIER IN ENGLAND : THE VENESTA STAND OF 1929 Paolo Berdini IS COMPLEXITY WITHOUT CONTRADICTION IN ARCHITECTURE Geoff Bennington 19 RONACHER THEATRE , VIENNA I THE HEART OF MELUN-SENART Coop Himmelblau

30 ' PERSPECTIVE RECTIFIED': SOME ALTERNATIVE SYSTEMS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Martin Kemp

35 GEOMETRY AND ABJECTION Victor Burgin 42 GAZI PARK COMPETITION, ATHENS I GUADALQUIVIR PARK COMPETITION, CORDOBA Rodrigo Perez de Arce & Solon Xenopoulos I Rodrigo Perez de Arce & Yago Conde

50 ST PAULI-MILLENTOR-LANDUNGSBRUCKE PROJECT, HAMBURG Peter Cook/Christine Hawley IRon Herron

55 WARREN CHALK 1927-1987

60 VICTORIAN SURVIVAL OR REVIVAL? THE CASE OF H . S. GOODHART-RENDEL Gavin Stamp

REVIEWS 68 MICHAEL WEBB : TEMPLE ISLAND Michael Sorkin 73 H. S. GOODHART-RENDEL 1887-1959 John Melvin

76 EV A JIRJCNA DESIGNS Eva Jiricna in conversation with Alvin Boyarsl<y 83 BERLIN 750 Introduction by Pascal Schtining

96 AA DIPLOMA SCHOOL HONOURS STUDENTS

106 BOOK REVIEWS 112 CONTRIBUTORS

AA Files 36 Bedford Square LondonWCIB3ES Telephone: 01 -6360974

Publisher The An:hitectural Association Editorial Board Alvin Boyarsky , Robin Middleton, Andrew Saint Production Editor MaryWall Editorial Assistants Charlotte Coudrille, Mark Vemon-Jones AnDirector Dennis Bailey Assistant An Director Nicola Roberts An Assistants Annie Bridges, Stuart Smith, Marilyn Sparrow, Mark Vemon-Jones No.15 , Surnrner1987 Contents copyright © Architectural Association and the authors .

[SSN 0261 6823 Printed in England by Spin Offset Ltd .

Subscription for one year: £35 .00 (includes postage) .

Single issues: £10.50 (+ £1 .OOpostage).

Back issues available.

COVE R

Diagramfrom Michael Webb's Temple Island project (see p. 68).

INSIDE FRON T COVE R

View of H. S. Goodhan-Rendel 's Hay 's Wharf Head Offices, London , 1930-34 (see p . 73). (photo: Architectural Press)

"

"

"

••

"

, ,

• •

, •

,

"

••

I

--

,"

-." --..

-~ ~~~ - --

"

MaryMcLeod

•

n 1929 Leon Deshairs , the librarian of the Musee des Arts Decoratifs, made the following list of the most influential French designers:

1900-1910 LeonJallot, Maurice Dufrime 1910-1914 FrancisJourdain , Ruhlmann , Siieet Mare vers 1919 Pierre Chareau , Rene Prou les tresjeunes Djo Bourjeois , K . Kohlmann , Charlotte Perriand' Charlotte Perriand, at the bottom of the trio of tresjeunes, was the sole woman to be included . And though indeed tresjeune - she was then 26 - she was frequently cited as an important, independent designer in the French decorative-arts magazines. Today , however , Perriand is remembered primarily as an assistant to Le Corbusier, even though her career now spans some fifty years and includes such diverse projects as an extensible dining-table and turning-chairs (1928), exhibition stands for the world's fair of 1937, portable aluminium cabins mounted in 1938, furniture exhibitions in Japan during the 1940s and 1950s, a hotel interior in the French Alps (1946-8), Air France lobbies, and her present apartment, designed in 1970. Just ten years of this rich and productive career were spent working directly with Le Corbusier. At the ri sk of perpetuating biases, I will focus here on the early period of

school was quite expensive; as in the English craft school s, many women attended simply to refine their domestic skills. The course usually lasted three years, with only the most skilled students, like Perriand, selected for an additional year or two of advanced study .

Students were required to study a variety of crafts , and the emphasis was on practical , hands-on experience rather than theory . The director of the school was Henri Rapin, a kind of middle-of-the-road designer, whose interiors were typical of the French decorative-arts movement of the period . 3 Although not himself involved with mass production , he encouraged his students to enter the competitions sponsored by the trade journal Art et 1ndustrie.

Perriand gained more direct exposure to mass-production techniques in independent courses, taught on Saturdays by Paul Follot, director of Pomone , the design studio of Bon Marche department store, and by Maurice Dufrene, who had a similar role as the director of the newly created La Maitrise workshop at the Galeries Lafayette (Fig. I).'

Although their designs were conventional and were considered less progressive than those of several of their contemporaries, such as Robert Mallet-Stevens and Francis Jourdain , the furnishings were intended for middle-class clients and, in some instances , , mass production. In this respect they differed considerably from EmileJacques Ruhlmann's exquisitely crafted objets d'art, which were fashioned of rare veneers and discreet ivory inlays, or even Pierre Chareau's more functionally conceived but highly crafted furniture .

Dufrene arranged for the Galeries Lafayette to produce the best of the student designs. On several occasions Perriand 's work was chosen, and she continued to collaborate with Dufrene for a few years after completing her studies. 5 Perriand's early designs , like those of her teachers , were hardly innovative or original. But what was unusual was how quickly she established herself as an independent designer. At the 1925 Exposition des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes , she worked on the , following projects for the Ecole de l' Union Centrale: a fresco, The New Muses; a wrought-iron grille; an elaborate edition of Eupalinos ou

I . Maurice Defrene: Woman's bedroom , Exposilion des Arts Decoralijs , Paris , 1925.

her career, which includes her collaboration with Le Corbusier. This provides an opportunity to expl ore the rhetoric surrounding the ' new woman' of the I 920s - whether it had an impact on design and, conversely, whether modernism is any way linked to issues of gender. harlotte Perriand was born in Paris on 24 October 1903 , the only child of a tailor; unlike many other women designers of that era, such as Eileen Gray, Lily Re ich, and Sonia Delaunay , she grew up in relatively modest ci rcumstances. She spent much of her youth in the countryside with a maternal great uncle, a peasant in Burgundy, and with her grandfather, a blacksmith in Savoie.

Following the example of her maternal aunt, she entered a women's , design sc hool , the Ecole de l'U nion Centrale des Arts Decoratifs , as a scholarship student in 1920. According to her own account , she was not particularly interested in academic pursuits, but could draw well. 2 The 4

-

v · .. ,

t/, ••.r

•

, " "., •

,-

.

... -

-

,.. , ..

• "

f" .."

-.

._

.-/. v.;.. .....:

,

"

..

2. Char/olle Perrialld: 'The corner ufa Ii "ill [; room', Sa /oil des Art iSles Decoraleurs , Paris, /926.

t\1\ HLL:.S I ~

I'Architecte by Paul Valery ; and some fabric designs for furniture in Dufrene's Galeries Lafayette pavilion.

By the next year, she exhibited on her own. At the Salon des Artistes Decorateurs of 1926, she presented a 'corner of a room' , including a table, chair and book case/cabinet in burl amboyna and Brazilian rosewood (Fig. 2). The design is strikingly eclectic , a kind of confluence of the dominant design strains of the day : the so-called 'modern traditionalists', such as her teachers Dufrene and Rapin , and the progressives, such as Mallet-Stevens, Jourdain , and Eileen Gray. The design 's awkward stylistic juxtapositions, most overt in the table, were commented upon by one critic, Raymond Regamey. After praising her ' ingenuity' , 'taste ', and rejection of wood inlay, he writes :

Perriand was not unu sual in linking female dress with innovation in the decorative arts (Fig . 4). Art Nouveau designers and critics had frequently credited women with changes in the world of decoration; and H. -A. Martinie , a contributor to Art et Decoration, noted in 1927: 'Women, for psychological reasons, .. . are by nature in love with the new, while men in general grimace at change, and impede as much as they can variations in fashion.'9 Perriand' s change, however. was not unique, or even uncommon .

A number of the di splays at the Salon d' Automne featured metal ,~

•

.

, " •

"

One's eye, however. ... is surprised by her solution. The glass creates an illusion of fragility, . .. which suggests a metal support rather than a wooden one . A piece of furniture made of wood, on the other hand , ... requires absorption; a simple plate of transparent glass does not sufficiently justify the solidity of the supports.... The piece of furniture needs visual terminat ion.6 Perhaps not surpri singly , Perriand' s work underwent a major transformation the next year: she began to use tubular steel. In 1927 she designed several small metal tables, and for the Salon d ' Automne she created ' the bar in the atti c', made of chromed steel and aluminium (Fig . 3). Here she dispensed completely wi th the heaviness and horror

,

..

4. SOllia De/Cl/iliaI': Dress. coat. alld car decoraTioll. Paris. C . 1926.

3. Char/olle Perrial/d: 'Bar il/The allic·. Sa/all d ·A I/rallll/ e . Paris. 1927.

vacui of Dufrene, the tabl e support and top now joined in one graceful , cubic form. Instead of the elaborate, dark wallpaper of the 1926 ex hibit, the walls were painted light pastel colours; all mOUldings were gone. Perriand ex plains that Jean Fouquet , a modern jewellery designer, had lent her Le Corbusier 's Vers un e architecture and Les Arts decoratifs d 'aujourd 'hui, the latter a vehement indictment of the 1925 exposition . These books, according to Perriand , 'opened the wall before my eyes' .7 Like many of her generation, she was moved by the new mechanical inventions and the energy of the jazz age. She ex plained:

Why thi s break? Probably, because I express my ow n needs: I'm aware and in tune with my own age . It is mechanical: the ca rs in the street strike the eye.

They are polished, shiny. I wear chrome beads around my neck, a belt of metal links. My studio is chromed steel; and I wear my hair a /a Josephine Baker. 8 AA f iLES I S

furniture, including another, though less interesting, bar designed by Louis Sognot for the Atelier Primavera . The critic Regamey had been prophetic in his analys is of the Salon des Artistes Decorateurs of the year before . Describing the two types of contemporary designers those who continued the mode of 1910 and those who sought a post-war aesthetic - he predicted that the second group would triumph over the first : ' We have just arrived at that moment when the first group is adj usting to the second. ' 10 Shortly before the bar installation, Perriand had approached Le Co rbu sier about joining his atelier. His response was hardly encouraging: 'We don't embroider cushi ons in my studio. '11 He attended the Salon d'Automne , however, and by the end of October she was working with him at his studio at the Rue de Sevres (Fig. 5). The atelier was still small , including one Yugoslav ian, Ernst Weisman, two Japanese, K. Maekawa and J. Sakakura, the Swiss architect Alfred Roth. and Le Corbusier's cousin and partner, Pierre Jeanneret. No one was paid - at least, not regularly. Perriand continued to work independently and. in addition, received support from her husband , a wealthy, older Englishman, who also paid for her private architecture lessons with Roth .'~ uring the early 1920s Le Corbusier had been categoricall y to traditional noti ons of furniture. In L 'Esprit 1l0llVeall he had written the advertisements for Roneo metal doors and Innovation storage units, endorsed American office furniture in his photographic captions, and published a series of articles decrying contemporary decorative arts. He believed that furniture should be 5

r-

,

-~

5. Char/orre Perriand with Le Corbllsier . Percl' Schoolfield (h erjirst hl/sband). and Djo BOl/rjeois at the 'bar in the arric ' (see Fig . 3) .

regarded as equipment - functional , efficient, and standardized . The architect should not design these industrially produced components, but should leave the task to a technical expert. The architect's role was ' to order and proportion ' . ' Architecture does not add. ' 13 Why , then, did Le Corbusier decide to hire afurniture designer in 192 7?

First, despite himself, he was often forced to go against his own conception of the architect as ordonnateur . While there were no signed furnishings in the Esprit Nouveau pavilion , many were of his own design. The modular storage units (casie rs) , the 'factory ' windows , and the streamlined bicycle-tube stair were all custom-manufactured, sometimes at great expense; perhaps most ironic , the Maples clubchairs had to be specially made, as the market models were too large to bring in through the pavilion's standard doors. If indeed furniture had to be designed, Le Corbusier probably preferred to use an 'expert ' than

to rely on his own somewhat primitive efforts. He had a long tradition of such collaborations: the structural engineer Max Dubois for the Domino house , Amedee Ozenfant for painting, and the acoustical engineer Gustave Lyon for the design of his large auditorium spaces.

Second, he had become frustrated by the market's failure to generate prototypes for mass production . Although he might have preferred industrial initiative, little had happened since the first world war to suggest significant changes within private industry. The 1920s in France were a period of cultural conservatism - retour cl "ordre when themes of classicism and French tradition all too often outwe ighed any impetus for large-scale innovation. Le Corbusier came to realize that if he wanted viable prototypes they would have to be ge nerated by his own atelier.

Third, he was undoubtedly influenced by the Bauhaus designers Marcel Breuer and Mies van der Rohe. By 1925 Breuer had developed hi s famous Wassily chair, and by 1926 Mies his cantilevered sidechair. The humble Thonet chairs looked quaint and somewhat outmoded beside these more overtly mechanistic designs. Le Corbusier was probably inspired to create his own answer to the problem of sitting , whether for comfort or for work.

Perriand's first contribution to the office repertoire was the siege tournant (sw ivel chair) and extensible table, displayed at the Salon des Artistes Decorateurs of 1928 as a suite of dining-room furniture. This project was shown and published solely in her name ,'4 although the sw ivel chair has come to be known as a ' Le Corbusier' chair. Perriand 's design continued her explorations of the year before in metal furniture (Fig. 6). But now a new component was added - mobility .

r I

7. Le Corbllsier-} ealllleret-Perriand: 'Siege (I dossier bascll/ant 路. 1928-9.

6. Char/orre Perriond: Dining roOIll. Sa /oil des Arristes Deco f{lt ellrs.

Paris . 1928.

6

The chairs, made of chromed tubular steel, turned; the table , covered with black rubber, doubled in lengt h; the glass panels, separating the dining room and adjacent office , slid . Mobility had been a constant theme in Le Co rbusier 's earlier publications; American office chairs and camp furniture were illustrated in L 'Esprit 110 u vea u . Instead of the complaints about mechani stic sobriety that had characterized the reviews of Le Corbusier's 1925 pavilion, the reaction to Perriand 's display was highly favourable . H.-A. Martinie wrote, for example : 'The dining room of Charlotte Perriand would charm a Brillat-Savarin of 1928 by its gaiety, its comforts so well predisposed for pleasant dining and good compa ny.' The furnishings, he added, 'a re an especially in /\ 1\ FILES l'i

(\

,

•

' - .: " r .... ...., .\~ \0

...

, ' .,....:..

'- .... .;. '''l~

-.. .' ...':·'1'

~

•

•

. ...

J•

.

•,.,- 7. . . - '. i

~

." ....w·

.

'

.....:"'

;, \

., -

•

~

~":--. , - - .

..

-

' "

.~ .

J

•

1 ',

-..-- --- .'

.

.- ._ .-

_ __ _ .

n" . ...... ,... ' .. _ ---'-¥. / ...__ ,i'." ~

\

;"-t'--. " ,'-

."

.

-~.

•

. l •

71 j •

"$ '

.

.

'

-

_.. -_.-.---

'.

\

." ..

-. " . "'i' r;.-~ t .

',-- - l I •

I

.pa; . '~ 1 .. r·

' -/~

.'

_

'"

'-~/' ~ ~ ', - "-~!. \

! :'":1.:.. .. _

I•

,\

•

( .

-

~

_

- .....

"

~,~,

,' .

' \" "

.

~. ,

.. ""

...,.,. .

......

_._ . "

. 0" _....) .:

2

.'

...

~

- , ."'-,' \ •• _

..

"-. ,_

,

~- ,

,.

•<

' "

~I .- . ..

--- ~,, "" t ' Ir...... _

.--~

•

/.

-

-- ~.'. I ''''- ' ' • ..... .1 I , "'-""-'-"

....

-I

•

. ',-

.

-•.

•

•

.

.

8. Le Corbusier: Sketch of seven states of sitting ,from Precisions, 1930.

genious and charming solution to the problems of organization, which preoccupy all mistresses of the house. '1 5 (Incidently, the word charmante appears frequently in accounts of Perriand, Suzanne Guiguichon and Lucie Holt Le Son, and rarely in discussions of their male peers.)

Shortly thereafter, Perriand began working with Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret on the three chairs for which the firm is famou s: the siege cl dossier basculant , the grand confort, and the chaise-longue

(Figs. 7,9, 10). Le Corbusier had proclaimed the chair a ' machine-forsitting' , but had stressed that such machines should accommodate different states of being. In the Esprit Nouveau pavilion he had used the Thonet chair for dining and work areas, and the club chairs for relaxation; his objective now was to analyse the different states of sitting and to find the appropriate prototype for each . As one sketch shows (Fig . 8) , he determined some seven states , including work , lecturing, conversation , and relaxation. In this collaborative effort it is difficult , and probably a mistake, to assign authorship . Perriand credits Le Corbusier with setting the problem . 16 Typically , she worked out the designs and details, sometimes with the assistance of Jeanneret. Le Corbusier himself credited her with having ' the sole responsibility for the execution of all our domestic equipment '. 17 While Le Corbusier described a work chair as an ' instrument of torture that keeps you admirably awake' , he envisioned the siege cl dossier basculant as a chair for living-room conversation. He noted that ' I sit down to chat: a certain armchair gives me a decent and polite position . '1 8 The chair itself is a reworking of the British officer's chair, with pony skin tautly stretched over the chrome frame , and arm-rests tightly sprung. In its separation of structure and body support, in its lightness and its mechanistic aesthetic, it also recalls Breuer's Wassily chair. But the differences in scale and elaboration are notable . The dimensions of the siege cl dossier basculant suggest a female occupant; in contrast , it is easy to imagine a rather corpulent corporate executive sitting in Breuer's earlier model. Rosemarie Bletter, in analysing designs by the women of the Bauhaus, has noted that their furniture often seemed more practical and comfortable than that designed contemporaneously by their male peers - owing, perhaps , not to any innate proclivity, but to a greater familiarity with the domestic world. 19 Although Perriand certainly brought a sensibility and expertise in interiors to the firm 's production , the chair has its functional shortcomings : a wrong move activates the pivoting backrest, with surprisingly painful consequences.

Le gralld conforr, a translation of the easy chairs of the club and the

, ,

,

•

,

•

~1oDtLe

9. Le Co rbusier-l ealllleret-Perrialld: .Gralld COI(fort·. 1928- 9.

AA 1"ILlES 15

10. Le Corbll.l'ier-l eallllcret-Perrialld: ·Chaise-lolIgue ·. 1928-9 . from the Ocuvre compl ete .

gentleman' s library, was, in contrast, a machine-for-relaxing . Heavy , squat , plush, and rotund, it consists, in its two variants, of bulging leather cushions secured, indeed squeezed , by a chrome frame, offering the essence of grand collfort. None of the sachlich German 7

Je~lgners

had dealt with this issue. But again the solut ion was not pe rfecI. The cushions were originally st uffed with down, ca using the sitte r to ~i nk too low , sometimes squashing the cushions below the oute r frame . Ri ing was difficult . Cassina's reissue uses foam stu ffi ng.

The se rpentine chaise-Iongue addresses another dimension of relaxation . It allow;, for different reclining positions, wi th the we ight of the human body fixing the position . The occupant must rise, howeve r , to change the angle . Precedents include bentwood lounge chai rs; adj ustable invalid c hair~ , co mmon in the nineteenth ce ntury; and, fundamental to the chair ';, ;,e n~ u ou ;, quality, the earlier marqui!ie or duchesse .

Eighteenth-century grace and eroticism find their twe nt ieth -ce ntury

covered il with a magnificent pony ski n; it is so light that it can be pushed with the foot, it can be moved by a child. I thought of the cowboy from the Wild West. smoki ng his pipe, his feet in the ai r higher than his head , against the chimneypiece : complete rest 20 Despite this, Corbusier published the photograph with Perri and . he dec rease in specifically masc uline and feminine form s is probabl y one of modern furniture design's most radical breaks with precedent. Because tubular stee l combined such tra ditionally male and female altributes as strength and li ghtness, distinctions between a woman's chair and a man 's chair no longe r seemed relevant. The lac k of fi gurati ve imagery also reduced gender associations, leav ing scale as the one variable. (Is it poss ible, however , th at the elimination of the expression of diffe rence mi ght . in some respect;, . be a loss?)

In the design pro fession generall y, gender di stincti ons we re j ust beginning to be questi oned . In 1927 the Union Centrale des Arts Deco ratifs sponsored a competiti on for a woman's des k. The programme was cont rove rsial enough for the criti c Rene Chavance to begi n hi s articl e on the competition with the following remark s: A delicate programme. if one wishes 10 consider the customs and present -day a'p ,ralions of the rec ipient. A woman who does spons. who dri ve, her own automobile . does she slili need a des k? More than eve r. si nce she has abo earned university deg rees. work s as a professional. and would glad ly leave the bu, ine" of the hou,ehold to her 'weak' i.dejailla1ll1 hu sba nd . BUI would ,he be content" ith a mascul ine dc,k') One may doublthis. because fo nunately she ha, not renounced her de, ire 10 plc",c . She adjusls poorl y to surroundings thal are nol fl att eri ng: a ,light. fn\'olou' elegance goe, wel l with her new se riou. nes, . ~ I

/1 l A' C",h/l\/('( uddl/III'"

1"(/1/1/ /'(1"

I:

Lt'

I nm!l/ 'rt"

,h,.

I v~ 8I1ddl1 l(1' "

( '0 "'''(I\'/t1

Pit '1111,' , II II,I\.

Pt'rndfld P it

~

{U f, '

dIll ! d Ro, 'ht '. ht"/ort (/i, ' 19:!8

"tlll,'n. l ,l/o L-J Rn( ht . a/ur

cqulv .lknr In rhl' Itghr. unJul.lllng ,lru( lUrc p,"'eu (1 n fnur p'"nt' . ,p he,llItlfull y IlIu'lrJlcd hy Iht' cl.I''''路 P'''( of PcrrtJnJ rcl .I'Ing nn Ihe (,In".I' Irlllc page) IwnlL"JII ). Lc Cnrhu"cr (,,,,,1-.,, llll1rc mcch.tnlStlL" .lnU m'lscuilne III1.Jgery In hi' de'cnptton (11' Ihe chJIr ' s dCrlvJtlon In Pn'l 'I\'/(PIlS

Pc rriand . howeve r. ma kes no allusions to ge nder in her disc ussion;, of modern fu rn ilure . In her one essay of the period, in defence of metal furniture. she menti ons , ports. the automobile. and the ' Man of the XX Ccnlury" - bU I not Ihe 'Woman of the XX Ce ntu ry' .!!

The three chai r, and the ;,o-ca ll ed 'airplane' table we re fir;,t used in two hou,c comm iss ions: in refurni shing the house of the bachelo r La Roc he ( 1928) (F igs . 11 . 12) and in the rece nt renovati on of Villa Church ( 1929) (Fig. 13). whi ch included some ea rl y variants - such as . 1 paudcd I)(/ scll lalll . But the polemi cal de monstration of Perria nd and Le Cornu,ier\ de,ig ns was rese rved fo r the Salon d' Autom ne of 1929 .

Titl eJ . Equ ipme nt fo r the House' . thei r ex hi bi t included a large livin g area" Ith 'll1all er ce ll s ope ning off it - kitche n, bed rooms. bathroom . elC I Fig . 14 ). Bes idc, the new metal meubles - movable piece, _ huilt -In storage was a major themc . Almmt everyth ing was madc of metal and gla,., . The fa.;ade was a si ngle plale-glass slidtng wtnd o,"" .

"It~ gla" bncl-.' be low . The fl oor was of heavy glas, slahs. apparentl) ill IrOIll beneath. and th e cei lin gs we re of etched and cu t gla" .-' Wllh , h,lllmcrtng anu refl ective surfaces everywhere . the total effecl mu , 1 h.l\e hcen qUill' 'pectacular . eve n b)' the standa rds of Charcau ', Ma l'on dc Verre " he nhlblt ratses que'lions a' to the nature of Perrtand ' S CPI1trthullOn to the firm ' s style and deSign approach How doe, thl ~ e, h,hl! t"ompare With Le Corhu~ler", earlier 1l1tcnor, ) Hp" doe, II compare " Ith olher mod ern tntertOh . su ha, Groplu, and Brcue r 'n hlb,t forthe Pam Werkhund of 1930') W It h rega. rd 10 Ihe first queqlon. the firm ' , mteno r' undouhtedh \ ' lIl\

,

,

•

.,

,

;X "

" ,

..

'. - ,

,

,

V' -i., ,

!,.

Z:t

:~ .• "

"

""'.

" ~ -".1::" •

".

,.

,

. '. Jl'

• i ... -.

'.

'"

".- • I.,;,'.'

0 ,

13. Le Co riJlIsier,j mllllerel' Pe rri(///(I: Libm 1'\', Villa Ch 11 reh, l'i lie d 'A I 'ra.", 1928- 9 ,from Ihe Oeu vre complete.

-'-

--."

-- -

--

/4, Le Cor/Jusier,j eallllerel ,Perrialld: ' n,e eqllipmelll ofo chvelli IIg

"

Ii I'i IIg 1'00m , bedroom alld hOlh room, 501011 d

'AIIIOII/lI C,

Po ris , 1929,

9

ga I ned a se nse of ' total desig n' (F igs . 11 , 12) . T he aesthetic that pe rmeated Le Corbusie r's ea rlier spaces was less re fined and more eclectic; the overall impression was that his furnishings could readil y be replaced by others . In fact , they frequently were, and apparently with his approval. Although the Perriand des igns were intended for mass production (and indeed we re issued, in a limited edition , by Thonet), the 1929 exhibit suggested ea rl ie r attitudes of the Arts and C rafts Movement and Art Nouveau. A zeitgeist-conditioned aesthetic, all e ncompassing in its attent ion to detail s, challenged notions of architecture as an efficie nt , neutral , functional container .

These differences, betwee n sy mbolic express ion of the modern age and strict functionalism , are also ev ident in a compari son of the Salon d' Automne exhibit to Gropius and Breuer 's des ign fo r a 'communal area of an apa rtment bl oc k' (Fig . 15). Similar to the Le Corbu sierl eanneret-Perriand exhibit in its use of industrial materi als, its manipu lation of interior space, and its identification of the mac hine aesthetic with health and cleanliness, the Gropius- Breuer exhibit appears, none the less, much more stark. This is not just the result of a difference in scale, Perriand and Le Corbusie r' s programme being smaller-scaled. but also, as Charlotte Benton has pointed out , the result of a diffe rent attitude towards furniture . Where Gropius and Breuer actually place an office fi ling-cabinet in a man's bedroom , Perri and and Le Corbusier use images of economy and effic iency more metaphorically . Their casiers, or storage units, are merely like o ffice furniture; the pri nciple, not the exact fo rm . is adopted 25 More ephemeral, and di ffic ult to desc ribe . is a dimension of whimsy, charm. and even fa ntasy in the Pe rriand-l eanneret-Le Corbusier

16. Le Corbllsier-Jeallll erer-Perriand: IRA (1llferna rional Raumallssrellung Gebr. ) exposirion. Cologne. 1931.

in part, of her decorati ve-arts training . Compari sons of Pe rriand ' s work to that of other des igners immediately come to mind : Eileen Grey's, where mac hine imagery is even more subjecti ve and selfconsc iously artistic, or Pierre Chareau 's in the Mai son de Verre .

Ironi cally, Perriand herself would not have distingui shed her position in 1929 from the rigorous functionali sm of the Germans or from that of an earlier Le Corbusie r. In contrast to Gray, who condemned the reducti ve mentality of the Modern Movement , Perriand full y adopted the rhetoric of Le Corbu sier . In an interview with a British reporter in 1930, she di scussed hi s apartment , notably hi s electric fireplace: Your design shows a weakness .

You ask 'what weakness" Well . it is because yo u have introduced 'fantasy '.

T hat is very bad . Believe me. I used to like fantasy: now I am sick o f it. In my ow n nat. I have gradu all y got rid of all the things that I once thought were amusi ng. all the little decorati ve jokes . O ne gets to hate them . The re should not be anything that is not useful.

And she concludes :

15 . Man'el Breue r: Mon 's room , Solrmtle \ Ar(is/l'S Decorall!urs. Pa ri.'\, 1930.

Now as to your design . Frankly I don' tlike it. All that fa ntasy . The owner likes it. Ta n! pis pour lu i! Tant pi s pour vous l Yes , I have been rude: but you asked me .

A glass of she rry: Yes. with all my heart l 27

designs . For an exhibit in ClI log ne in 193 1. for in stance. the firm displayed a rug made by Pe rriand out of sy ntheti c animal skins and garments. sold by Turk.ish ve ndors at cafes : it featured ye ll ow lions on a bright-blue background. ti ge rs on a red field , an image of the Eiffel Tower. and an ang ry lady - a joke. Perriand ex plai ns. which start led the neut' slIchlich German designers ( Fig . 16) ." Although Le Corbusier's architec ture had always been more manne red . idiosy ncratic. and idealistic than that of hi s German colleagues - most notabl y Wa Iter GroplUs. Hannes Meyer. and Ernst May - Perriand appears to have played a large role in c reating thi s more personal. ex press ive. and even sumptuous rendition of modernism . This was probabl y a result. at least

T he reporter desc ribed her as ' thi s charming and abl e des igner ' .

Le Corbusier thoroughly acknow ledged , as noted earlie r , Perriand 's role in creating the firm 's 'equipment' ; in these comments, hed id not , as one might ex pect, refer to her sex. Yet he did discuss more broadl y the impo rtance of the ' new woman ' to his design position. In 1925 he wrote. 'The evolution of women 's dress in part icul ar, and al so in etiquette. has legi timized the new att itudes . ,~, For Le Corbusier, a bac helor - and long afraid of women - Pe rriand and 10sephine Baker. whom he met while travell ing to South America in 1929. probabl y ~ tre n gth e n ed these impressions. In a lecture, 'The Furniture Adven ture '. whic h he gave in Buenos Aire~. he desc ribe~ women'~ innov ations at ~ome length (and wi th unmi stakably erotic overtone,) :

10

"" 111 ' ' ' '\

Woman has got there before us . She has brought about the refo rm of her dress .

She found herself in this dilemma : to follow fashion and by doing so give up what mode rn technology - modern life - had to offe r. To give up sport and . mo re materially . the chance of employ ment . which has given her a productive role in modern life and e nabled her to earn her living ... To carry out the daily construction of he r to ilet: hairdo, boots. buttoning her dress, she would have had to g ive up sleeping .

So woman cut o ff he r hair and her skirts and her sleeves. She goes around bare-headed . bare-armed. with her legs free . and she can dress in fi ve minutes.

Moreove r. she is beautiful ; she enchants us with the grace o f her fi gure ...

The courage, the enterprise , the in ventive spirit with which woman has revolutionized her dress are a miracle of modern times . Thank you!

What about us men? A dismal state of affairs! In our clothes. we look like generals o f the Grand Army and we wear starched collars ' We are uncomfortable .. 29

country, climbing mountains, and peasant life may have fo und in modernism a reinforcement of her ow n procliv ities fo r si mplicity.

In ' Wood or Metal?', the essay of 1929 refe rred to earl ier , Perriand had unequivocall y endorsed metal. She desc ribed wood as a 'vegetable substance, bound in its ve ry nature 10 decay: it is susceptible to humidity. Central heating dri es the air and wa rps wood . '30 In her independent work , she adheres to thi s dictum as pi ously as in her coll aborations with Le Corbusier and Jeanne ret. An inventi ve project fo r 'Work and Sports', published in 1929. fea tures tubul ar-steel beds, chai rs, slOols, a metal typing-table and, most novel. a phonograph cabi net (Fig. 17) .3' But by 1935 Perri and is using wood . At the Brussels world's fa ir she proposed a 'chair fo r co nversatio n' , made of light wood and st raw seat-

What is female , thus, for Le Corbusier, is not nuance, detail , or fa ntasy, but woman 's willingness 10 shed conventions. Just as furni shing had been bridled by tradition - drapery , heavy chests, skirted chairsso too woman 's body had been encumbered by fa shions passed dow n by haute couture. Perriand 's enthusiasti c and whole-hearted endorsement of Le Corbusier's design principles may have stemmed in part from a personal sympathy. A woman who had since childhood loved the

J8. Le Co rbusier-J eannereT- Perriand: STud.'" . 'House for a .'"oung mall '. Fren ch secTion , £tPOSilion illlemationale, BI"IIssels. 1935: paillling by Femand Leger.

I

•

,,

,

,

, •

,

, •

•

17, Charlolle Perriand , ' Work and sports ', project, c .1929.

AA FII. ES ' 5

ing (Fig. 18). These chairs were not fabricated by machine, but rather by hand in a small shop on Boulevard Saint-Germain. employing exconvicts. The chairs were, in fact , much cheaper than any of the metal chairs des igned earlier by the firm ." Although Perriand also used a couple of he r earlier pieces in the display . her aesthetic had clearly changed. Instead of the highl y refl ecti ve surfaces and urbane sophistication of the 1927 attic bar or the 1929 apartment , we now see a simple, almost primitive aesthetic, in which machine prec ision and standardization give way to anthropomorphic assoc iations (note the arm-rests) and overt signs of craftsmanship , crude at best. Her exhibition the next year at the Salon des Arts Menagers. her tables ell fo rme of 1937 and 1938 (Fig . 19), and a mounta in-chalet annexe of 1938 (Fig. 20) show the same shift in concerns J ] Certain values were constant - truth to materials, functi onalism. the dismi ssal of fu rniture as a sy mbol of class di stinctions or gender - but mechanistic imagery had been rejected in favour of warmth . natural materials, and a more vernacular simplicity . In an essay of 1935. ' Habitation fami liale', she pays homage to the houses of shepherds. peasants, and fis hermen. It was no longer a choice between 'wood or metal' . but a new sense of requiring 'each in its useful place. technicall y and phys iologically' .3' Le Corbusie r's style and objectives had also changed. as is apparent from house des igns for Mathes and St-Cloud, both contemporaneous with Perriand 's woode n chair. In fac t, F rench art in general had changed . The double imagery of classicism and the machine, so evident II

in the Purist paintings of the 1920s, had g iven way to mo re orga nic conce rns : nature, peasants , and a gene ral back-to-the-Iand ethos . The Ame rican stock-market crash, France's own ensuing depress ion , and the rise of Nazism had all challenged the dreams of industrial utopia pe rvasive in the 1920s . These events touched Pe rriand deepl y. She joined AEAR (Assoc iation des ecrivains et arti stes revolutionnaires). the leftist write rs' and arti sts' group , and became active with Lege r and Pierre l eanneret in the campaign against Fascism. Populism and accessibil ity were now mo re important to he r than the symbolic express ion of machine productio n. At thi s mo me nt her political and art istic pos iti on was pe rhaps closest to Leger ; it is probably not co incidental that he chose he r 1935 wood-and-straw chair fo r hi s living roo m . 35 The inte nsely crisis-ridden atmosphere of the 1930s, in conjuncti on with pri vate d ifficulties arising from an affair with Pierre l eanneret, may have also e ncouraged her to explo re more pe rsonal proclivities that had been previously ove rshadowed : first , in the decorati ve-arts mil ieu of he r teachers a nd , second , in the face of Le Corbusier 's own polemical visio n.

Unli ke Le Corbu sie r, whose love of fo lkl ore was something di scovered in trave ls a nd removed fro m hi s day-to-day expe riences, Perriand 's was tied to her chil dhood and her frequent trips to the

•

• ••

' !-,

"• /

.-,:;-~ ..-" ..

-= / .

- ..'

'- ""

(

, "

/

,

.,..,. ,

. ~~~ •

,

.

.I

•

"

• ••

. ,., . .,,. . ...:

'

.

,-' 1 - '

.

.

-

". .

"

-

I

20. Charlolle Perriand: Pivotin g door op enillg 10 lerrace, hOlel annexe , HaUleSavoie . / 939

mo untains . 10se- Luis Sert described he r as bringing to the office eve ry day a new image , which she almost always called ' ado rable ' - fo r exa mple , a modest chair with nice proporti ons or a photograph of the interio r of a peasant 's house , wh ite and half empty. This sensibility was so well known that Chareau, on seeing her Brussels chair , exclaimed , ' Voyons Charlotte! ' 36 What is perhaps most striking about Pe rriand 's early wo rk is its evolution from a skilful reworking of her teachers ' premisses to a shedding of conventions and burdens of the past with the adoption of moderni sm , and finall y to the di scove ry of her own voice - one that is not marked by a so-call ed femini ne sensibility for luxury o r fantasy o r by the sensiti ve fo rmal precision of Gray , but rather by a direct simplicity. The desig ns of the 1930s are calm , harmonious, and stro ng. The same might be said of their author.

I would li ke to thank Charl otte Perriand not only for meeting me on several occasions . but also for spe nding two mornings in her atelie r (J une 1979) explai ning her desig ns to a group of architecture students from Columbia Uni ve rsity. Much o f the info rmati on and many of the impressions in this a rti cle are a result of those visits . I woul d also like to tha nk Wa lt raude Woods , who fi rst int roduced me to Perri and and arranged fo r her to gi ve us the slides o f her work. This arti cle is based on a talk o ri ginall y give n in Elizabe th Gross man's session ' W omen in Architec ture' at the Society of Architectural Hi stori ans' An nual

Meeting. PittSburgh, April 1985 . An exce rpt from this article appea red in 711e Archilec· /li ra/ Review 18 1. no . 1079 (Ja nuary 1987). pp . 4 3-6 .

/ "

,

r:> •

Notes

~,

'-,J

•

I

/ •

-- - - - - - - - -' ::-:.._----, -,

-- - -

lo. _: __ ___ __ , , , ,• .•

• •.

,,

,

•

,, ,

-

•

,,, '-..../

L _ ___ _ _

.

..

... , I . ·..

, .. '1. " ,.

#'

,..

.

.,. .'*',

,,~

-~.

. .... , ~

/ 9. Char/olll' Perriand: Desk/or 1. R. Bloch (edilor o/C c Soir). 1938.

12

I

I

/

I . Kath arine Mor rison Kahle , Modem Frellch Decoration (New York . 1930). pp. 3 1-2.

2. Conversation wi th C harl otte Perri and . I Jul y 1984 .

3 . Ibid . Henri Rapin (1 873 - 1939) bega n exhibiting at the Salons aro und 1903 . He was gene rall y co nsidered a 'traditionali st ' in the 1920s. and his interiors we re usuall y highl y ornamented with wallpa pers. silk fa brics . pilasters . a nd pai nted friezes. For a general discussion of the Ecole de l' Union Centra le des Art s Dcco ratifs . sce Pierre O lmer, ' L' Ecole des Dames de l' Union Ce ntrale des Arts Deco ratifs' . An el D" cor· ation 43 (Ja nuary - June 1923). pp. 12 1-8. and Raymond Cog niat. . Une Ecolc feminine d 'a rt deco rati f' . Arl el Decoration 62 ( 1933) . 11 7-22 . Fo r info rmation on the ea rl y history o f th e Uni on Centrale des Arts Decoratifs. see L 'Union Cenlm/" de.'

ArlI DeeoralifI (Paris . 1927) a nd De bora Lea h Si lve rma n. · Na ture . Nobility. and Neurology : T he Ideological Origins of " Art Nouvcau " in France '. (Princeton Uni · ve rsity Ph . D . thesis. 1983), part 3 .

4 . Paul Follot. a traditionalist. was know n fo r his de licate colours and gracefu l. eurvi. linea r lines. Despite hi s role as direc tor of Pomonc. he wa s adamant ly opposed to the in trod ucti on of industria l fea tures in domestic interi ors. Mauricc

Dufrenc (\876·\ A 1- 11 1' '\

I~

I'I~S, .• fo,mer <oIleague at La Mai"", Mode"", and an old ad,e,SIIf)' . i,

ha,de, to

"'''"I) .a., h .. "ontempor.ries f,equently acknowledge . Althoogh h .. mte,iors of the early 1'120. .re m the traditionalISt 'ein . he wo> a ,!rong od'ocote of low-co,t. """,h,nt ·m.de furnIture . He began usmg metal and glas, in the lal< I CJ20" . Biog,aphi · ".1 """oon" of Follot and Dufre ne can be found m Ala".ir Duncan . An DI('O Fum, · Th,F"n<·hDl.,gnustNewYork.19tW).pp. 48 . 128.

S Co",,"",,,,,,, wIth Pe",a",J . I Jul y 19tW /> Ruymond Rtgamey . . u XVl e Salon de. Ani,te, De"orateu,, ·. An., Decoralion 50 t 1'/2/>,. IS- 16 De"d.. being IIIu.trated m thi, anicle. Perriand', de'ign appear, in L... t ..ho> d" ""'u>ln .. d·an. June 1926: Mauri« Dufrene . Ln Inrl ri,urs/ram;ai. uu Salon d" Anwn Dlcoralrur; m 1926 (Pari, . 1926). plate 46: Jean Rene . 'u Salon dc, Ani>te, Dewrateu,, · . La D.m.u" Frtln\'w se 2. no. 2 ( 1926).29 : Gabriel HennOl . ' u 16e Salon de la Societe de s Aniste, Decorateurs . deuxieme anicle ·.

Mob,"" tI Dlcoralion 6 ( 1926). 16. 20-22 . Henriot. a con,erv.to r of Fomey .

'u,..

prai~~ Pt rrland '~ en~mble

as ' 3 note offreshne~s and youlh · .

7 . Charloll. Puriand: Un an d. ,·iv". exhibition catalog ue (Paris. 1985 ). p . 13 . The bar ret.:eived a lot uf atlcntion in the professional pres~ . See Gabriel Henriol. 'Le Salund·Autllmne·. Art tr Dkoralion 8 tl927 - 1928). I. 15 : Paul Brandt . ' uSalon d' Automne · . An., Industri. (Decembe, 1927). 52 : Claude Roge r· Man . 'u Salon d·Automne·. An., Dlcvration 52 (July - December 1927 ). 173: A . No,i. Derail. ,i'archilrclur. inr'ri.ure(Paris. Charles Moreau . n .d . ). plate 14: C. Geoffrey Holme and Shirley B. Wainwright . D,eoraliv, An 1929 (London. 1929 ). p. 124. Henriot pral~s the project as 'the newest decorative ensemble of this salon. ... with an

r

origi nality full o f promise ' .

8 . Ibid . p . 12 .

9 . H .· A . Martinie . ' Le XVlll e Salon de, Aniste s D~coratcurs'. An" Decoralion 53 ( 1928). 163 .

10. Rcga mey. p . 22 . Rtgamey places Dufr.ne . Follot. and Andrc Fn!chet in the first categof)'. and Mallet-Ste"ns. Chareau. and Djo Bourjeois in the second .

11 . Conversation with Perriand . I July 1984.

12 . Alfred Roth . Begegnun,ll mil Pioni"en (Basel and Stuttgan. 1973). pp . 46-7.

13 . uCorbu sier . Almanachdel ·arcititecruremodemdParis. 1926). pp. 113 . 13S. 14 . Maninic . p . 168: Rent Prou . lntt'rieurs au Salon des Ani,-". Dlcora"urs . Paris . 1928 (Paris. 1928). plates 38. 39: ' Le Salon des Anistes Decorateurs'. Journal de I'A=ublmli!nt. June 1928: Guy de BruncH . ' Salle ~ manger modeme 1928'. Mai.on pour Tou. (15 September 1928). 147: . Le ISe Salon des Anist.. Decorateur' . La De· meure Fran(aiJe 4 . no. 2 (1928) . 30: Gabriel Henriot. 'Le xv rlle Salon des Anistes Decoral<urs au Grand Palai". Mobi/i" " D"coralioll S (1928). 22. 34 . Henriot. long a fan of Perriand. concludes his accou nt of the Salon : . Dans I'autre salle. une joyeuse tri nite: M . Djo Bourjeois. M . Rent Herbst et Mile Charlone Perriand onto pour notre plai·

sir, rivalise de jeuncsse et d'csprlt : le living-room ct la cuisine du premier. le fumoir du deuxieme et la salle

a manger 1928 de Mile Perriand constituentic coi n le plus frai s. le

plus onginaJ et le mieux. reussi du Salon. C'cst par eux. que nous tcnninerons. pour ciTe sati sfaits. not,e visite des ensembles du Salon des Decorateurs . · 15 . Maninie . p . 168. For instance. under the heading 'Charlotte Perriand and Le Corbusier'. Perriand's former teacher and mentor Dufrene writes : 'The art of usi ng metal based on intelligence and capable of c harm . Charlotte Perriand has the will and the ingenuity of a man. combined with all the grace of a vef)' young woman .

E,ef)'thing is designed forthc con.. nience and comfort of the body. for function. or hygie ne . but in spite of thi s it has di stinction and a truly personal and feminine an . ' Maurice Dufrene , 'Interior Decoration in Europe and America '. Decorative An: The Sludio YearBook 1931 (Lo ndon . 1931). pp. 35·8 .

16. Conversation with Perriand . I Jul y 1984 .

17 . u Corbusier. 'Ce rtifica t ' (hand·written reference). 17 March 1932. in Charlollf

Puriand. p. 22 .

18 . u Co rbu sie r. ' L ' A,enture du mobilier' . Pr'ci.ioru (Paris. 1930; reprint : Vincent.

1960). p . 118. translation in Form and Funclion: A Source Book/or Ihe Hi.lory 0/ Archiuclure and Desi,lln 1890- 1939. edited by Tim and Charlotte Benton with DennisSharp(London . 1975). p . 237 .

19. Rosema,ie Haig Ble tte r . ' Women Designers at the Bauhaus'. lecture in the Women and the Environment series. School o f Architecture and Planning. Columbia UOIversity . 2 Marc h 1982 .

20 . Le Corbusier . Prici.ion•• pp. 118· 21. tran slation in Form and Funcrion . p . 237 .

21 Rene Chavanee . . Bu,eaux de dames'. Art el Dlcoralion 53 ( 1928). 13 .

22 Charlotte Peffland . . Wood or Metal ? ' Sludi097. no . 433 (April 1929).278· 9 . l3 The project wa. widely published in the contcrnporaf)' press. See Leon Deshairs. ' Le Mob.her Cl Ics an.. dtcoratifs au Salon d ·Automne ·. An el Dlroralion ( 1929).

~<\Fll f

I~

17H·83 : G.bnel Henriot. ' u Meubl< mewh'lW' en serie'. Mobl/in ~I ~"oroJi"'19 (Jul)'- December 1929). 219-23 : R . L .. 'Uno equipementlnil!neur d ' une Nbtllllion · .

Clm'" " V,rr" . no. 13 (December 1'129). IK·20: 1..600 Mous...;IIIIC . lfIIlri...." (Paris.

Charle, Mor""u . n .d .): Lonia Wintemitz . '''Einwohnraum '' ",n uComusier in lAJ· .. mmenarbeit mlt P Je..nneret u Charlotte Pariand ·. l"""n-lNknro/uJtl 41. no 6 (June 1930). 21'1- 23: C. Geoffrey Holme and S . B. Wll1Ilwnghl . editorS. lNC'Of'IJIiw An 1930 (Londo" . 19.1O) . p . 17 : 'The Apanment Inteno,·. Archi"cnual R" 'ord 80 (October 1936).3 18.32 1.

24 . T,m Denton . Charlotte Denton . and Auron Scharf. Dnilln 1920.: &1>1"''' lNsi,ll" and Ih, &uhau. 1925- .12 (Milton Keyne, . 1975) . p . 73 .

25 . Ibid . Thi s compartSon is drawn from C harlotte Benton ' , percepti'e lUIalysis of

European avant·garde furniture de ~ig n .

26. IntervIew with Perriand . July 1984 . See al so her . ccountln Charloa, P,rrimrd: Un art d, ",." . p. 25 . In hi s anide ' u Meuble mewlique en serie' . Henriot also notes this dimension of fantasy in the Salon d ' AulOmne project . and attributes it to Pu. iand . The Cologne exhibit was illustrated in Mod,m, &u/o rmen 30 ( 1931 ). 610-11 .

27 . Charlotle Perriand . ' Monologue in a London Flat ' . Archilrcr and Building N'M ·S. October 1930 .

2S . Le Corbusier . L 'An dt'corali/ d 'aujourd 'hui (Paris. 1925). tran slated into English by James I. Dunnctt as 71" Decorari," Art o/ Today (Cambridge. Mass . . 1987).

29 . u Co rbusier . Precision•. pp. IOb-7. translated in Form and Funclion . pp . 233-4 .

30 . Perriand .. Wood or Metal'. p. 27S .

31. R' puroire du gour modern,. vol. 2 (Paris. 1929). plates 18· 22 . Othe, designs during thi s period include the founeen m~ ce ll of the Radiant City. an exhibItion stand for the plywood company Venesta . the editor's office at La S,main, a Pari•. the cr~che and dormitories of the Sal-ation Army P.-ilion. and the public rooms of the Swiss Pa,ilion . By the time of the Salon d ' AulOmnc exhibition Perriand had al so becOIiK an acti'e polemicist for lhe Modem Mo,emenl. In 1930 she helped found the Union des Anistes Moderne (UAM). a design group committed to low-<oost. mass· produced furniture : in 1933 she participated in the famou. Athens meeting of the Congres Intemationaux d'Architecture Modeme (ClAM) : and in 1934 she attended a meeting in Moscow of the Soviets' Union of Architects as the firm 's representative .

32 . Con,er. ation with Perriand . I July 1984. Dufr.ne organized the decorative an. section of the French p.-ilion. a . Foyer de la famille franl'aise·. and in'ited members of the Union dcs Artistes Modemes to design an 'apartment for a young man ' . Rene Herbst designed a gymnasium. with panel s by Leger: Louis Sog not . a bedroom : and Pcrriand and Le Corbusier. a study . Desides the straw c hair. it included a storage

cabinet with a zinc imprint of the Plan Voisin , a slate table with heavy cast-If ....tal suppons. a blackboard . a painting by Leger. a large photomontage . and • small.

hand-i:rafted stool. In general. the imagery

wo.t~

more rustic than in their earlier

collaborations. with pieces of driftwood . nints . and a fi , hing net echoing the thellles of Leger. Perriand al so contributed two photog raphs to Sognot 's bedroom. one an image of an athletic woman swimmer. who might have been herself. Th. study is published in L.Ch .. ·Belgique·. An et Drcoralion 64 (1935). 303. 308: ' u HOlae de jeune homme·. L 'Archi"crure d 'Aujourd 'hui 6. ser. 5. no . 10 (October 1935). 61 .

33 . Sce Maurice Barret . ' A Propos du 1Ir: Salon de I·habitation ·. An" Dlcorarion 6S (1936) . 103-4. 107: Maurice Barrel. 'L' Architecture et la decoration : La 3.

Exposition de I' Habitation' . L 'Archilfclure d 'Aujourd 'hui 7. ser . 5 ( Februaf)' 1935).

65·73 : Philippe Diolo. 'La Fonction erec la ligne : Un bureau de Charlotte P.rriand ·.

Art er Dlcorolioll . new series. 1·2 (1939 ). 51 · 3: Rent Ch.-ance. ·Recherche. collecti,cs d 'amenagemcn" conl<mporains'. Mobilier " Drcortllion 17 (1937).

133· S: ' Amenagement d'un chalet'. L'Hommf ~I I'archiltclure. nos . 15116 (1947).

41-4 : Jose· Lui, Sen . 'C harlotte Perriand · . Aujourd 'hui: An" Archi"cr",.... no . 7 ( March 1956). p. 70: Boris J . Lacroix. ' Mobllie" et c n.. mbles de vaclnce, · . Art ~r Decoralion. n.s . no . 9 (1948) . I. 7 .

34 . Charlotte Perriand . ' Habitation familiale : Son dC-eloppement6conomique et social' .

L 'Archirecru" d 'Aujourd 'hui 6 . ser. 5. no . I (Januaf)' 1935 ). 25 .

35 . Conversation with Perriand. I Jul y 1984: Chariollf P.rriand. p . 28 .

36 . Sen . pp . 58·9 : Charlollt Perriand. p . 27 .

Ackno",ledg~menr.

Phntograph on lill. pagealld Fig• . 3. 7. 9. 12. 19 labow). 20: cou"',ryo/CharIOl1, Perriand. Figs . 1. 4. 14 (left). 17. 19 ('"low) : cou,.,..yo/Mory Mcuod.

Fig. 11 : pholograph by F. R. Yemur),. COUnts)' 0/ ArrlIileC.'fllnal As.m ci.. ri"" stith library. Figs. 2.5.6. 13 . 14 (riglll ). 15 . 16. 18: COII,ftsyo/ A"'rylibnary.

Columbia Uni , .. rsirv.

Paolo Berdini

finishes which in older methods would he 1929 Design and Industries have been ruined in our hurried system of Association Yearbook depicted modern building' , commented The Bui/• rural England in dramatic terms: , der,. while the AP noted that 'the Venesta Smoke. noise and inconvenience have , stand designed by Le Corbusier is not the blighted village life. The countryside is 1, violent shock one might expect. From the being abused by ' ribbon' development, author of Vers une architecture I expected the squalid mark of a society too keen on something uncompromisingly rebellious, the machine and its passengers. Only carea violent reaction against its humdrum ful planning can remedy this state of neighbours.

But generally it consists of a affairs - 'a dangerously ill-balanced civPlymax ceiling and pillar and a streamline ilization cannot be rescued by a millionwood casing to one of the columns of the aire empire' . I gallery.

Within this casing has been It was at this time that the set of ideas , schemed a little cupboard.'

Another com•. commonly associated with modernism I , -' 1 i I ' ment pointed out that 'the unique design of , ' ! began to gain currency. As we might exi ! !j , I , the stand enables the structural and decorpect, the work of Le Corbusier played a , I 'I ' I . ,I 1 ative significance of all the materials to be central role in this . His buildings, particu1 seen at a glance' .6 'I \ larly the villas , were published in the jourI A few more observations can be made if , r \ nals, with sensitive commentary, while the Venesta stand is compared with the his writings influenced radical views con, 'living room ' exhibited in the Salon d'Aucerning the social mission of modernism . , .tomne (see p. 9, Fig . 14, in the preceding None the less, Britain remained peripheral , article). In both, a grid ceiling and floor , in his range of interests. However, he was frame a domino-like space in which a invited by Venesta Plywood Lld to design ;/ ~ , ./"" cylindrical volume acts as a vertical couna little stand for the 1930 British Building terpoint. Partitions of various kinds screen Trades Exhibition. It was his fir st and only Le Corbusier-leanneret-Perriand: Venesta Plywood Ltd the spaces and orient visitors. The Paris work in Britain. stand, Building Trades Exhibition, London , 1930. arrangement seems more consistent as a The work was commissioned by the living room, whereas the London one explores a variety of relationeconomist, engineer and occasional designer Jack Pritchard, a graduate ships - the purpose of the Venesta stand was to advertise possible uses of Pembroke College, Cambridge , where the emphasis on relating art of plywood , and it was in effect a three-dimensional abstract composand science had influenced his devotion to the idea of reforming society, intensified his sense that 'one should build for the period one lives ition which might be associated with Constructivism or, more prein', and ultimately formed his taste for modern design. 2 Pritchard concisely, with contemporary versions. sidered contemporary British design inadequate to the needs of modern A journey to Germany in 1931 considerably changed Pritchard's life . Convinced that new products would result only from new attiideas. By that time Le Corbusier's 'ingenious planning' was not enough tudes, he began to look abroad for ideas. In the Deutscher Werkbund he and, as Pritchard later wrote , 'our ideas - political, architectural and found the ideal of collaboration between artists and industry in an effort personal - were developing and changing fast. Working at Venesta to improve the quality of machine-made objects, while in Scandinavian had brought me into contact with the ideas of Waiter Gropius and the products he recognized a congenial use of industrial materials in Bauhaus, with their emphasis on ways to improve the mechanics of furniture design. A combination of the two is probably what he had in living. ' In Gropius Pritchard found that combination of 'cruel ' exterior mind when in 1927 he became a manager of Venesta, a medium-sized and ' mild' interior, that 'mixture of humility and authority', which can plywood company. still be perceived at the Impington Village-College.

At the end of 1929 Pritchard was se nt to Paris to make a report on Notes Venesta' s French partner. During a visit to the Salon d'Automne , I. 771eFaceoJulIld. D .I.A . Yearbook 1929-30 (London. 1930) . where Le Corbusier exhibited 'the equipment of a dwelling', he was 2. See J . Pritchard View From a Long Chair: 77le Memoirs oJ Jack Pritchard (London. struck with the possibility of usi ng Venesta plywood in a modernist 1984) .

3 . The onl y account of the commission is in J . Pritchard . o p.c it. . p. 60 : ' While in Paris I interior. He decided to take part in the Buildings Trades Exhibition was thinking about the fonhcoming Building Trades Exhibition in London . On a pre vi ' sc heduled for the following year in London, and to ask Le Corbusier to ous visi t to Paris I had been to the Petit Palais and had see n there an exhibit by Le Cor· design the Venesta stand. The com mission was accepted and Charlotte busier . Jeanneret and Perriand . It showed a full open plan for an apanment for two, Perriand was put in charge of it. J Only an isometric sketch and a photobou rgeois privacy arranged by cu nning planning . I was so struck by it that I wondered graph of this little project survive, publ ished in the Architects' Journal, about asking them to design the Vcnesta stand for the ex hibition. It see med a check to September 1930. ask such a famou s firm to design a small ex hibition stand , but with the encouragement of John Gloag I plucked up courage and went to see Pierre Jeanneret. a cousin of Le The Venesta stand, one of almost three hundred, received moderate Corbusie r. To my delight they agreed and Cha rl otte Perriand was to do the job . ' praise - and not entirely for the Le Corbusier/Perriand design: 'We 4 . 771e Bllilder 139 , 12 September 1930. p. 415 . cannot help feeling some gratitude . .. for the excellent ply-wood 5 . 77le Archileco' . JOllrna/72 , 12 September 1930, p . 445 . products which have achieved the possibility of beautiful hard-wood 6 . Ibid . p. 444 .

-

·I

I

•

14

A /\

Fll l:.S 15

Geoff Bennington

ecent discussion of post-modernism seems beset by confusions of all sorts. The discussion has become confused because the have insisted on asking whether or not postmodernism is an 'event', rather than, say, ' media hype' , and on asking this question with an uncritical notion of the 'event'. Jencks, Jameson and Eagleton , for example, are all keen to absorb events into continuities, genealogies and teleologies (Jameson's assumption that genealogy escapes the problems of teleological history is never argued or put to the test). There is really little to choose between them in this respect. I If they are able to think of an 'event', this must be thought of as a break and a new start. Such a view is irremediably 'modern' in inspiration, 2 and cannot begin to understand the temporal complexity which authors such as Lyotard and Derrida address. It may well be that the very term 'post-modern' invites such a view to the point of selfdestruction , but it seems clear that attempts to per iodize and classify so as to judge and expel or extol can only take place on the basis of a repression of the question of the event which Lyotard is attempting to work with . Derrida too suggests in his discussion of Tschumi 's La Villette scheme that terms in post- are used by a compulsive historicism, 'as if yet again one wished to put order into a linear succession, to periodise , distinguish between the before and the after , limit the risks of reversibility or repetition , of transformation or permutation : progressist ideology'. 3 Derrida's appeal to the word 'maintenant' is an attempt to escape this type of temporal organization, and the tension of that 'maintenant' is directly comparable to what Lyotard in Le Differend means by 'the event'. 4 In this article I shall not so much attempt an exposition of 'the event ' in recent French thought , as begin a tentative and preliminary elaboration of this question of the event as it relates to the work ofVenturi, Eisenman and Tschumi.

I take my cue , in the first instance , from Venturi 's Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture,5 and specifically from Chapter 9 of that book, 'The Inside and the Outside', where the question of the event appears explicit. Arguing against the 'flowing space' of modernism and the tendency to impose a continuity between inside and outside, Venturi writes that 'Since the inside is different from the outside, the wall- the point of change - becomes an architectural event' (p. 86). And , in so far as most architecture is concerned to build walls separating inside from outside, it would appear that architecture is all about events.

In arguing for a complex and contradictory architecture, Venturi draws most of hi s authority from literary criticism, notably the tradition stemming from Eliot - and indeed in his preface he quotes Eliot on critici sm and tradition. It would not , I think , be difficult to trace the AA FILES 15

genealogy of Venturi's notions of complexity, contradiction, the 'difficult whole' and so on through this tradition . Mannerist and baroque buildings are to Venturi what the English Metaphysical poets are to Eliot. In this literary tradition, 'complexity' is valorized in so far as it is thought in terms of ambiguity, irony , balance: the 'difficulty' of the whole may be partly an academic obscurity, and would exclude the potential populi srn of Venturi's 'is not Main Street almost all right?' (p. 104) and of Learningfrom Las Vegas.

To someone approaching architectural criticism from literary studies, these references in Venturi's work are surprising: the rather stuffy urbanity of Eliot's critical writing seems often to control rather than respect the disruptive energies which might be detected in literary modernism, and which would nowadays be approached through the work of Kristeva or Derrida rather than Eliot. In Derridean terms , this would lead to a wariness of the value of 'contradiction', because of its Hegelian ancestry - the determination of difference as contradiction invites the sublimation of that contradiction into a totality (however 'difficult').6 It would equally lead to suspicions about ambiguity: even if extended to mean 'polysemy', ambiguity remains within the ambit of a notion of meaning as ideally unitary and recoverable. Derrida has questioned these values , especially in 'La Double seance': If, then, there is no thematic unity or total meaning to be reappropriated beyond textual instances, in an imaginary , an intentionality or a lived experience, the text is no longer the expression or representation (happy or not) of some truth which would come to be diffracted or gathered in a polysemic literature. It is for this hermeneutic concept of po/ysemy that should be substituted that of dissemination .7

Dissemination disrupts the totality and any search for 'meaning', and to this extent it is as uncomfortable for Venturi 's book as for any other (but the constitutive vagueness of discursive terms in architectural criticism - does anybody, for example, really know what the word ' meaning' means when applied to architecture? - makes this problem both more urgent and, perhaps, more approachable). But Venturi's book invites closer reading with Derrida : Complexity and Contradiction (1966) has its chapter entitled 'The Inside and the Outside' ; Derrida's De la grammatologie ( 1967) has a chapter with the title 'Le dehors et le dedans'. Derrida is of course analysing the notion of the sign, especially as formulated by Saussure, whereas Venturi is analysing buildings. But the (inevitable) tendency to discuss architecture in terms of meaning shou ld allow some cautious use of analogy between these analyses; and Derrida 's appeal to the initially spatial categories of 15

inside and outside in what must, at least at first, seem like an analogical way (for what does it mean literally to suggest that signs have an . ins ide' and an 'outside ' ?) suggests that the analogy does not work in onl y one direction.

Care must be taken here to avoid mi sunderstanding: at fir st sight De rrida seems to be suggesting that the oppos ition between inside and outside cannot be sustai ned , and his next chapter affirm s that the inside is the outside ;ij Venturi. on the other hand . is attac king the continuity between inside and outside which he sees as be ing promoted by mode rnism , with its 'emphas is on the oneness of interior and exterior space ' . and he is stressing that ' the inside is di fferent from the outside' (p. 70) . But the matte r is more complicated than thi s apparent opposition would suggest: Venturi may indeed be arguing for separation as against any ' ultimate continuity o f space' (ibid .), but the point of th is is to move aga inst the moderni st dictum that ' the inside should be expressed on the outside' (ibid . , my emphasis) . And this presupposition that the outside expresses (or represe nts or signifies) an inside is of course also the object o f Derrida' s investi gation. The whole classical notion of the sign, as di vided into signifier and signified , rests on an inside/outside oppos ition. and on the presuppos iti on that the outside somehow reveals the inside. As Derrida shows, an underlying assumption he re is that the inside, the signified. exists ideally prior /0 and independently of the outside : the outside is the acc idental (' arbitrary') means of access to the inside; it should ideally not obstruct access. should be transparent. The plate-glass ' wall s' of the modernist cube appear to be analogous to such a transparency of the outside. On the other hand , in so far as there is an inside, it mu st necessarily have an outside to define it as an inside : the border. even if made of glass . must be at least as much a place of separation as a pl ace of communication (this combination of separation and communication defining the notion of the limit as a pl ace of artictllation ).9 Even moderni st buildings must provide at least a thermal difference between inside and outside, as Venturi points out.

Pursuing the analogy a little further, the moderni st pretension (as analysed by Venturi - 'the truth of the matter ' is not at stake here) to reduce the barrier between inside and outside to the transparency of a sheet of glass would be an extension of what is di agnosed by Derrida as ' Iogocentrism' - taking the need to 'e xpress ' the inside on the outside to the limiting case of reducing the outside to almost nothing. Or, in te tlllS of Derrida's analysis of writing , such architecture would correspond to the Western in vestment in the excellence of so-call ed ' phonetic' writing rather than the hieroglyph and ideogram , which, as agai nst the democratic access ibility of phoneti c script, protect the inside as a potent ial mystery from all but a select few. Paradoxes proliferate in th is situati on: phonetic writing, which apparently redtl ces the separation of inside and outside, mi ght al so be said to confirm it all the more fo rcefu lly. Derrida desc ribes Saussure anxiously confirming the exteriori ty of writing to speech prec isely by stressing the demands of the phonetic : if onl y writing could become the di aphanous mea ns of access to the interior . it could not be said to penetrate or affect that interior at all .

In thi s situation, which is compl exi ty itself. a numbe r of moves mi ght be made. We might argue. for example, that Derrida has demonstrated the imposs ibi lity o f conceivi ng the inside pri or to and independentl y of the outside . On ly an outside can defi ne an inside . In the analysis o f the s ign, this leads. in a sense. to the idea that there is no sig nifi ed : a signified is no more than a signifie r placed in a ce rtain position by other signifie rs. Look up any word in the dictionary to 'get at' its signified , and you find more s ignifie rs re ferri ng to eve r more signifi ers - the signified is no more tha n an e ffec t (not quite an ill usion) of the ' pl ay of sig nifi ers' .'o Once thi s has been acknowledged. it is diffi cult to retain the notion o f signifier (and this ma rks Derrida' s diffe rence fro m doctrines of the ' materi ality o f the signifier' . which is in any case a 16

contradiction in terms):" 'signifie r ' can onl y impl y ' what signifies a signified ' and , if there is no signifi ed to be signified , the re is no signifi er to signi fy it (whence Derrida's introduction of the noti on of the trace) . The inside ' is' the outside, but thi s rapidl y leads to the con clusion that there is no outside eithe r , but a ge neralized d iffe rent ia l space organized into 'effects' (not quite illusions) o f inside and outside .

A radical ' fl owing space' would not simply reduce the wall to a sheet of glass, but would show that the inside is merely a fo ld or invagination in a ge neralized 'outside' . The plate-glass window maintains separati on all the more sec urely for suggesting its aboliti on - it mi ght promise continuity, yet break your nose if you try to take up that promi se. whereas nobody would walk into an honest wall.

Venturi , also suspicious o f the express ion of inside on the outside. fi ghts against the 'Sauss urean ' soluti on o f reducing the outside, the better to keep it outside (in my loose analogy, the ' transparent ' wa ll s of the modern offi ce-bloc k kee p the outside out all the more secure ly by displaying the inside as powerful and my sterious). Venturi sugge sts that, if the possibility of reducing the separation o f inside and outside is an illusion, then better to accept that separation and make something of it. He likes the difference to be great and mysteri ous, and it is no acc ident that temples at Karnak and Edfu appear as illustrati ons at thi s point , or that he should re fer to the ' partial my stery inherent in a sense of privacy' (p. 7 1) in thi s chapter.

It would be nice, but I think an over-simplification, to conclude that Venturi , faced with the failure of a ce rtain moderni sm 's apparent denial of the inside/outside oppos ition , takes fright and insists, regressively. on their separation, whereas Derrida demands, progressive ly , that the opposition be deconstructed altogether. I would not deny the presence of ' regress ive' moments in Venturi 's text and ' progress ive' ones in De rrida' s, supporting an argument presenting Venturi as a 'conservative ' 'post-modernist ' and Derrida as a radical moderni st, but it is just as easy to imagine a counter-argument which presents Venturi as the progress ivist, arguing for a flexibl e and li veable negotiation o f inside and outside, and Derrida as the advocate of an apparently he rmetic script. The ease with which such characterizations can be constructed suggests that there is something wrong with them.

We can complicate thi s picture (and note that in order to do so we must jettison any simpl e notion of contradiction), as far as Venturi is concerned , by noting that hi s rejection o f continuity between inside and outside is not simply an a ffirmati on of their radical separati on. He uses the Egyptian temples, not so much to suggest that there might be a my stery at their centre, but as an example of a series of encl os ures of encl osures . Such a configuration does not always impl y a central mystery . Barthes, for exampl e, persistently used the formall y identical model of the onion as an image of the text , made up of laye rs within layers but containing nothing at its centre, reading becoming the process of negotiating the layers rather than the triumphant arri val at any 'core' of meaning. 12 Moreove r. by advocating quite agg ressively a di fferent treatment of the inside and outside stlrf aces of the wall .

Venturi splits the line of limit or border in a way that might eas il y look to Derrida rather than Eliot for its language . And , aga inst hi s ow n locati on and valorizati on of 'contradiction' betwee n inside and outside.

Venturi also makes more subtle moves. leading to an idea of ' res idual spaces ' which cannot eas il y be accommodated within a ri gid polarit y of inside/outside : Res idual space in between dominant spaces IVilh vQryillg degrees of OlJeIIll CS.I can occur at the scale o f the c ity and is a cha racte ri stic of the fora and ot her complexes of late R oman urban pl anning . Res idu al spaces a re not un known in our c ities . I am thin king of the ope n spaces unde r our highways and the buffer space.s around them . Instead of acknow ledgi ng and e xploiting these cha racterIStiC kln? s of space we make them into park ing lots o r feeb le patches o f gra" - no-man S lands betwee n the scale of the reg ion and the locality . (p . RO . my cmpha", )

In this desc ription, , residual space ' is ne ither simpl y inside nor out side: rather, it seems to be a poc ket of outside within the inside, the ' noman 's land ' of front ie r and margin at the ce ntre of the c it y (in Lyotard 's terms , the zone of the paglls, from whi ch Lyota rd deri ves hi s notion of ' the pagan') . " In spite of Venturi 's insistence th at inside is diffe rent from outside, thi s desc ription of ' res idual space' di srupt s the ve ry dichotomy he is trying to reinforce . 14 This di srupti on is confirmed by Aldo va n Eyc k, in a quotation Venturi prov ides , apparentl y in support of hi s ow n argument : Architecture should be conce ived o f as a config uration of intermediary places clea rl y defi ned . This does not impl y co ntinual trans ition o r endl ess postpo neme nt with respect to place and occas ion . O n the contrary, it implies a break away from the contemporary concept (call it s ickness) of spatial continuity and the te nde ncy to e rase every articul atio n betwee n spaces. i.e . between outside and inside . between one space and anot he r (between one reality and another) .

Instead the transitio n must be articulated by means of defined in-between pl aces which induce simulta neous awareness of what is significa nt on eithe r s ide . An in-between space in thi s sense prov ides the commo n ground whe re conflicting pola rities can aga in become twin phenomena . (p. 82)

Despite the manifestly dialectical character o f thi s desc ription , it would not be difficult to see thi s notion of the 'in-between' (see Derrida' s play on 'e ntre ' and 'antre' in 'La Double seance' ),' l as the generalizable 'medium' of the same (not the identical , as both He idegger and Derrida insist) in which differentiation takes place. ' In-between ' space then becomes less a space than the spatiality or spacing of space. And , as van Eyc k suggests, architecture would then consist in the 'configuring' (diffe rentiating) of thi s space into spaces which are always intermediary . This reading exercises a certain amount of violence on van Eyck's text, as it leads to the idea that , in a sense, this does imply a 'continual transiti on or endless postponement' with respect to both place and occasion . We are very close to Derrida here, specifically hi s derivation of difference, diffe ring and deferring. 16 This description al so takes up the temporal aspect of what van Eyck says, and if we are to make sense of architecture as it has to do with the event, we must talk about time as well as space . To have a closer look at these possibilities , I shall leave Venturi and move to two architects who explicitly invoke the work of Derrida , namely Peter Eisenman and Bernard Tschumi.

Iy, invocation of Derrida in texts by and around Eisenman make the discuss ion rather more difficult than in the case of Venturi . It may be that in some sense Eisenman is propos ing a more or less rigorou sly 'deconstructive' architecture ; thi s clearl y does not imply that the discursive links of such an architecture with the work of Derrida are successfully negotiated. For example , in one o f the essays in the Fin d 'Ou THou S folio, Jeffrey Kipni s picks up on the notion o f in-betweenness, and writes the following : 'The betweenness reading , which Derrida call s "differance" , is the alway s in -flu x space that constitutes the relations that are reading itself; scene of intrinsic subjectivity, it is the playground named Mind .' J7 Now , whatever ' intrinsic subj ecti vity' means here (or 'mind ', for that matter), it is an odd way to talk about Derrida . Kipni s has earlier in his tex t introduced the notion of reading and subj ecti vity which inform the sentence I have just qu oted . He writes , for exa mple, that ' writing , in Derrida' s fo rmul ati on, is any and every orga nisation of form that stimul ates an organi sed experience of reading' (p . IS ), and that ' writing', in the generali zed sense given to the wo rd by Derrida , cons ists in 's ubjecti vely vested . . . forms caught up endl essly in referring to othe r form s ' (ibid .). I do not know where Kipni s has found the authority fo r these appea ls to reading and to subjec ts, fo r the re is no such appeal in De rrida . The source is more likely to be Barthes, for whom the procla imed 'death o f the auth or ' (whi ch would correspond close ly to Eisenman's heralded absence as architect from hi s own prog rammed architecture) is all too rapidl y paid for by the birth of the AA fl l Lfi 13

reader . " Derrida' S 'w riting' is in fact the death of the reader as much as the death of the author . In OfGramnwrology, for instance , he says that writing is olher than the subject. in whatever sense one chooses to take those words. " And if he invoke s 'e xperience' around the argument that writing, in the ge nerali zed sense, is (among other things) the ' form ati on of fo rm ', it is an 'experie nce' which takes transcendental phenomenology to its limits befo re pass ing th rough the noti on of experience as deri ved and secondary to that of the trace . Derrida comments on the necessity of cross ing th rough these transce nde ntal argument s. as otherwi se the ' ultra-transce ndental' text (which he is proposing) could easily look like the 'pre-c ritical' text. which I fea r is what Kipni s has provided 2 0 (The sa me gross e rror , that Derri da 's ph ilosophy is me rely a form of subjecti vism, is also pe rpetrated in the rece nt interview in Domlls .f' Eise nman's own presentations are also qu ite obscure and uneven . In the Romeo and Juli et materi al," for exampl e, the allem pt to di srupt the value of presence by oppos ing it to void and by re-defin ing absence , is confusing: and that redefinition of absence as 'either the trace of a prev ious presence' (i n which case it 'contains memory' ), or else as ' the trace o f a possible prese nce ' (in which case it 'contai ns imma nence'), fall s short of the Derridean account o f the trace on which it clearl y draws. Eisenman' s account is essentiall y that of the phenomenology trave rsed by Derrida in OfGrammatology and Speech and Phenomena .

By thinking in terms of memory and past or future presence, Eisenman remain s within a metaphys ical and essenti all y linear conception of time, which Derrida has so patientl y undermined . He is also still thinking in a fundam entall y dialectical way, both in thi s account of absence and the temporality of the site , and in the three 'structural relationships' he takes from the story of Romeo and Juliet (the dialectic of division, and then union-and-di vision of the lovers in the tomb). Derrida's own disc ussion o f Romeo and luliet (there is no reason to assume that Eisenman would or should know it)23 disrupts thi s simplic ity with a nondialectical complexity, in which 'division' inhabits identity in , for example , the simultaneous unity and divi sion of Romeo and his name.

It may be, of course, that Eisenman 's project in some sense shows this, even if hi s discourse does not quite desc ribe it. But , as the claim of Eisenman's work is that it is difficult. if not impossible, to separate building and discourse, thi s unevenness in the relationship of text and building cannot be ignored .

Whatever the value of Eisenman's desc riptions, and whatever the doubts induced by his appeal to the not ion of self-similarity, which could lead as much to closure as to opening, if interpreted in terms of the mise-en-abyme (and Eisenman's idea of the architectural object becoming' internalized ', ' self-definiti ve' , ' true to its own logic ' , proposing 'an intrinsic value system' suggests that he is no stranger to that too hasty interpretation), 24 it is clear that hi s is an attempt to think time within the space of architecture , beyond the obvious sense of the time of a building's building or existence. If thi s is an atte mpt at an architecture of the event , it clearl y cannot simpl y mean that the building of a building is an event , nor that it prov ides a space in which events can take place .

It is prec ise ly th is concern which Derrida fi nds at work in Tschumi's La Vill elle project (ยง3) . I as ked be fore if anyone reall y knows what it mea ns to talk of meaning in architecture; even if no one does, the fact would remain , according to Derrida , that the meaning of architecture is that it should have meaning (Derrida presents thi s as the postulate unde rl ying four invariables which trave rse the history of architecture (ยง8) .) The meaning of architecture ca nnot it self be architectural. and to thi s ex tent architecture is governed by principles outside itself (ยง9) .

Derrida ' s compl ex argument suggests that Tschum i' s project disrupts thi s confi guration of archit ecture and meaning . Clearl y this is again a questi on of the deconstructi on of an inside/outside polarity, if not quite in the sense I have sketched out apropos of Venturi . It is emphatically

17

not a question, in Derrida 's reading ofTschumi , o f simpl y refusing the outside, the 'extrinsic ' meanings imposed on architecture, in favour o f some notional internal purity or propriety of arc hitecture , as we might still suspect to be the case wi th Eisenman. Just as Ventu ri' s des ire to separate inside and outside led to a complication of the structure of the limit which separates, so T schu mi 's project both includes the outside (it does not refuse externa l demands of ut ility and so on) , and opens the inside of architecture to its others (photography, c inema and so on).

Tschumi' s architecture would thus by defi nition not be p roper architectu re, and it would be unreasonabl e, as in the case of Eise nman, simply to separate the buildi ng from the texts, draw ings and so on which accompany it .

In Derrida's readi ng, Tschumi maintains ' the dis-jo inted as such' , to 'give dissoc iation its due, but to put it to work as such in the space of a gathering' (the gathering that is the fundamental motif of He idegger 's ' Buildi ng, Dwelling, T hinki ng') . The log ic here is prec isely that which governs De rrida's thin king on inside and outside (and thereby his thought in general, in so fa r as separating in side and outside is the act of separation itse lf. the analysis , crit ique, conceptualizing which defin es philosophy) ; the ' points' on Tsc humi 's grid gather their own separation , hold together and apart both togetherness and apartness, associate and dissoc iate both assoc iation and dissoc iation, in a tension which refuses the dialectical solutions proposed by Eisenman, and which could not give rise to the suspicion of closure invited by Eisenman ' s appeal to 'self-s imilarity' . (§§ 13-15. I would want to argue that such an 'economy of dissoc iation' is identical to that briefl y proposed unde r the sign of ' dissensus' by Lyotard at the end of The Postmodern Condition , agai nst Habermas - Derrida here talks of ' a socius of dissociation ' (§ 14).) This tension cannot be thought in simply spatial terms , nor in terms of a temporality itself thought of as external to space (it is not simpl y a question of providing a space in which temporal events might occur). But the spacing of Tschumi' s grid (which is not j ust its space) is an attempt to work at the root of space and time - because each of Tschumi 's cubes is caught in the web of all the others , none is a self-suffi cie nt entity. Effects of inside and outside are certainly produced here, but they are ne ither the simple separations recommended by Venturi , nor simpl y the fl ow ing space he is attacking.

Tschum i 's points interrupt the fl ow as much as they allow for it , and are themselves as divisible as they are punctual. The ' maintenant ' stressed

by Derrida, the now and the maintaining, is a maintenance not of presence but of spaci ng and interrupti on, of what he call s ' the relation with the other as such ' (§ 16) .

T he relation with the other as such (" as such ' is important , marking that what is at stake he re is respect fo r the alterity of the other, which defi nes some o f Derrida 's most ' tec hni cal' thin king,15 and which marks that thinki ng as fundamentall y ethica l, is still all to do with insides and outs ides, wall s and events. Our ' deconstruction' of the wa ll in Venturi is not an attempt to de ny the fo rce or urge ncy of hi s in sistence that the out side is different from the inside , but to modul ate its mildl y exasperated common sense into something li ke Tsc humi 'sfolies, whe re the difference of out side and inside is , as it we re, already in side anyway . The ' promi se', or invitati on to the Other, located by Derri da in Tschumi 's project is not simpl y an in vitation (to ' the public ') to come into the warm , nor to beco me a commu nity (agai n) . T he ethi co-political impo rtance o f thi s is made cl ea r in a compari son o f the Vi ll ette project and Learningfmm Las Vegas, whe re the socius in di ssoc iation is appare ntl y to be abandoned to the virtues o f the strip . Dissociation , an absolute condition o f the po litical rathe r than the unfo rtunate fa ilure of community it is o ften take n to be, need not accept its tradi tional (eve n dia lectica l) negati ve marking: as the acti ve negotiati on of wa ll s betwee n insides and outsides rathe r than the ir intolerant in stitution or illu sory abo liti on , di ssoc iatio n procced ~ as an aleatory se ries of events.

What wi ll happen at La Vill ette re ma in, ; to be scc n.

18

Notes I. For more detailed discussion, see my pape r 'The Rationality of Po, tmodern Relati vity", fo rthcoming in the proceedi ngs of the Architectu ra l Assoc iation G,.duate School Histo ry and Theory Programme confere nce 'The Re latI ve and the RatI onal In the Architecture and Cultu re of the Present ', May 1987 .

2. cf. J ea n - Fra n~oi s Lyotard , ' Note sur les sens de " post-"', in Le Poslmude me expliqll e allxeII!allls (Paris, 1986) , pp . I 19- 26 ( 120- 1); earlier English version, 'Defining the Post mode rn " in Poslmodem ism, ICA Documents 4 and 5 ( 1986), 6-7 (p.6) ..

3. Jacques Derr ida , ' Point de fo lie - mai ntenant I'architecture ' , in Bernard Tschuml , La Case !'ide, AA Folio VIII ( 1986), 4- 19, ~2 , translation modi fied .

4 . Jean - Fra n~ois Lyotard. Le Diffe reml (Paris, 1983) . I take this notion of the event a, the guidi ng thread in my fo nhcoming ex posit io n of Lyotard' s thought : Lyofard: Wrilillg Ihe E.'elll (Manchester University Press).

5. Roben Ve nturi , CompleXity alld Conlradiclioll ill Archileclure (New York. 1977) .

Page references will be incl uded in the tex!.

6 . This implies that cont radiction, despite appearances, in fact works towards homoge ni zation, whereas a thought of difference. des pite its apparent modesty . respect, heterogeneity.

7. Jacques Derr ida , La Disseminalioll (Paris, 1972), p. 294 .

8. Jacques Derrida , De la g rammalologie (Pari s, 1967) . In fac t. in a notori ous gestu re .

Derrida crosses th rough the copula in this chapter-title. to stress a movement of excess wi th respect to tradi ti ona l onto logy .

9 . See fo r example De la g ramma lologie. Chapter 3, Section Ill. But th is logic of the li mit pervades all of Derri da' s th inking.

10 . On this sense of the wo rd 'effect', which cannot be reduced to cause/effect any more than to truth /illusion, see es pecially Derrida ' 5 Posilions (Paris, 1972) , p. 90.

1/ . Simply because the identity of the signifier is secured despite its potentiall y disparate material repetitions. It is odd that Derrida has been so wide ly misread on th is point . give n the clarity of his statements: see for example De la g rammafOlogie , pp . 20, 45 .

138-9 .

12. See. for example , Banhes ' s own refl ection on his use of this type of image, in Rolalld Barlh es (Paris. 1975), pp. 54-5 .

13. See J ean- Fran~o i s Lyotard , In slru clions palelln es (Paris, 1977), pp . 42- 3; Au Jusle (Paris. 1979) , pp. 74-5 : Le Differend , §2 18.

14 . This is al so true ofVenturi '5 remarks about 'open poche ' .

15 . La Disseminalion , pp . 240- 1.

16. See espec iall y the essay ' La Differance ' in Ma rges - de la philosophie (Paris.

1972) . pp . 1-29 .

17. Jerfrey Kipnis, ' Architecture Unbound : Consequences of the Recent Work of Peter Eisenman' . in Peter Eisenman, Fill d 'Ou THouS. AA Folio V (1 985), pp . 12-23 (p. 16) .

18 . Roland Banhes. 'La Mon de I'auteur" . in Le Bruissemelll de la lallgue (Paris. 1984). pp. 6 1-7 (p. 67) . The fin al sentence of Banhes's anicle makes it c1earthat he is proposing a reversal of the trad itional model, which forgets the reader in favo ur of the auth or. This stress on th e addressee in ge ne ral has bee n pe rsuas ive ly a rgued by Vince nt Descombes to be c ha racteri stic of structura lis m. and to limit its claims to break wi th a ' philosophy of the subject' : see Le Meme el l 'aUlre: Quarallfe -cinq ans de philosophiej ranraise (/933 - 1978) (Paris, 1979). especiall y pp . 11 4 , 123- 4 .

19 . ' Le constituant et le disloquant a la fois. I'ecriture est autre que le sujet. en quelque sens qu ' on I' entende" , De la gramma fOlogie . p. 100.

20. De la g rammalologie, p. 90 .

2 1. Interview conducted by Eva Meye r, February 1986 : Jacques Derrida, ' Architecture ove il desideri o pUDab itare · . Domlls 68 1 (April 1986). pp . 17-24 .

22 . Peter Eisc nma n. Moving Arrows . Eras and OIli er Errors . AA Box 3 ( 1986).

a

23 . Jacques Dcrrida . . L' Aphori smc contrete mps'. This text was written as a prog ramme -

note for a French prod uction. and will appear in English translation in a fonhcoming volu l11e of essays on Shakespea re, ed ited by Nick Royle.

24 . Derrida, ' Point de fo lie ... " § 10 : ' In rei nstituti ng architecture in what should have bee n singul a rly proper to it . it is above a ll not a matte r of reconstitutin g a simp lidryo f arc hitec ture. a simpl y a rc hitectural a rchitecture. by a purist o r integ ratist obsession .

It is no longer a matter of savi ng the prope r in the virgi nal immanence o f its eco nomy and or retu rn ing it to its ina lie nab le prese nce. finall y no n- rep resentative . nonmimeti c and re fe rr ing onl y to itse lr. T his aut onomy o f a rchitecture . whic h would claim in th is way to reconcile a formalism and a sc manli cism in the ir ex treme~. would do no more them accomplish th e metaphys ics it was cla imi ng to deconstrucl. · Much o f the Ei ~c n man material r have ~cen is vulnerable to these rc mark ~ .

Since t hi ~ te xt wa ~ wri tte n . Dcrrida has published a te xt o n Eisenman (' PourquOl Peter Eiscnrna n ec rit de si bons livrcs· . in Psyche. Im'ellliom; de I 'QUIre (Pa ri!'. .

1987 ). pp . 495-508) which suggests a much more ge nerous interpretat ion than I o tTe r here . I 3m unable here to go into the detai l o f this di sag reement . o r into th e re lali o n~ h i p between this new tex t and the piece on T!'I(' humi I di sc u ~~ he re . :!5 . Sec for example the elucidation o r the ' trace ' in De la grammntolog;e. pp . 68- 9.

•

RONACHER THEATRE FlRSTPRIZE,1987 The conversion ofa nineteenth-century theatre in Vienna, which does notJunction properly, into a theatre for the rwenty-first century.

The point of departure for the design was the idea of a ' multi-media theatre for every type of perfoIJllance'. We envisaged an open, accessible space containing a variety of stages - a theatre in which perfOllllances could be held from basement to roof. This concept was intersected by programmatic 'constraints' (functions, room-planning) and preexisting 'constraints' (historic-landmark preservation) .

Broadly speaking there are four areas to be organized: the stage and its technical paraphernalia; the public area (auditorium with foyers, restaurants , bars , etc.); the rehearsal rooms; administration and personnel offices . The stage and the back -stage area represent a huge high-tech volume , a ' black box' which is usually not open to the public and has no outside or fa.yade, just an ideal inside in which the

illusion of theatre is produced.

In a conventional theatre three areas - stage, rehearsal rooms and administration - occupy fivesixths of the volume, leavingjust one-sixth for the public to experience. In the first stages of the design , we decided to reverse this proportion so that the largest possible part of the house would be open to the public . We therefore opened up the main and rehearsal stages by creating a series of multipurpose spaces: we thought of a roof-terrace with an open-air stage, restaurants in the lower levels and on the roof, a public videotheque, and bars in the foyers. However, the Ronacher is not just a theatre.

Because of the constant presence of television it is also a prominent media-production and cultureexport machine . The exterior of the theatre is the self-confident representation of all these possibilities.

Because of the building 's location near the historic city centre, we value the possibility of experiencing the skyline of the historic city from the roof-terrace more than the assimilation of the new Ronacher' s silhouette into the skyline. Apart from the glazed administration offices, conference rooms and lounge (which has a view towards the Belvedere) , the roof construction complies with the light-clearance requirements of the Vienna

building-code. In view of the building 's location, function and public significance, this slight transgression has been allowed.

The particular characteristics of a historic landmark should be discernible; in order to preserve its character, therefore , its sty le, form and technology should not be imitated . Consequently , the design concept for the theatre exterior consists in the separation and polarization ofthe old proscenium theatre and the new construction in the back-stage area . As a historic landmark the old building, including its fa.yade, will remain with its character changed as little as possible. The left tower of the middle ' Risalit' in Himmelpfortgasse will be transfoIJIled in accordance with the remaining corner towers, so that the fa.yades will not only retain their identity but also gain in independence and density. At pavement level the ' Rondeau' corner tower will be restored to its original function as a porte-cochere .

COOP HIMMELBLAU WolfD. PrixandH. Swiczinsky Projecttearn : Burkhard Entrup, Stefan Kriiger.

Mathis Barz. Manfred Hieber. Susanne Rath. Sylvia Burian

/

-

•

,

, I •

-

\

•

,

,

•

•

,.

• •

,/ •

/•

• • •

, ,

\

I

\

•

I

, \

, J

AA FIL ES 15

I

19

Sf

•

I

•

.• ·.

•

." , •

. , ••

..

..

•

.·,', ':':; ..

. : •·...•• '. ' :. " • • .,

.,'- r

.1 ..

, .. .. ·, •..

•

•

:" .

•

..

.

• •

X·ray pusp~clivt AA FILl:.S I~

20

I "I I

-_. -/

-

• •

,•

, •• •

,•

i •

L

-\

-- - --

-

- _ .-

--- --- --- -~ - .--;:;;

,--

..

•

-

-~ T

v· •

/

--

, /

-

,

/

-

/ -

-r--

r __ I

'/ -/

•

• ' -

I

/

/

-

I

/ I

,.

,

•

,

"

•

,

, /

\ ,

•

,-

,/

/

-

/

-Perspective 21

rt- ---

I

,I Ir----._~ I

1 I

I

--

1

,

--

"'"

-

I-

•. ,.> -

I

•

'''-, ",a _

I I

.... , ."... -

,,

".- .'

I

...... ..... "., ",' .'

,, , ,, ,, , 1

,, I , I

••

",,,

--

......

.... ,

....

on. ( O

H6.60

~

~

{1 - -

" .,

tl6.'o

on.so

' H.lo

~

~

~

.....". ,

-

- -- -

'H .lo

- - --

./ ./

,/ \

/'

'<--

-- --

. n.Bo

~ . ll.lo

---

~' l1.IO

-- - - -

' ,' .11' ."

----

,I,

..,.,.

"...

-- •

••

J •

e

, •• 0

•

, 0

>

------, r---;'-, !

"0.10

-

I>

- -

-

•

•• ••

~ ~

C ~ ~ ~

•

~

U

• 10.'" ".

I

Hl nlo ~ bUhn"

I,

, "

_0.00

•

•" ••"

I ~

•••

••

~

••

... . " ....

I

./

~"

..

" ,.

_......'

•. .

'.'

, .' ,-"

"

....

/

\

I

J>

N....... l "'·"1 -0.10

lI1Jnmcl pfor tq8sae

22 .\ FlltS

I~

,

•

.

-

• •

•

to.QG. :

,, ,

\

\

\

\

.,

,

,

,

,

---

."",:-.----

I

3l

4'

.'

,

, ,I

,

8.qG •.. 130.80

,

, •

..

•

••

?CG J27.30 . .... .' .,..... - ... ..

•

•

,••

• •

• • •

Tc tr.tl.ollO

,,,

I

, ,

-

,

,

,

I I

23.80

"-

,

I

I

6.0G. ·

•• •

I

, , ,

I

,

,

I

•

,

,I

,,

·,

--

Foyer

·

•

5 .OG. · '19.80

'.

•

,•• ,, '

•

..

,-_

-

,

,

.. ... .. . . ...... .. ..

.. .

I

•

,

•

• •

3.0G. '11.20 . . .. __ ...

,

1-.

.

._- -

•

,1'5.80 r"

4.0G • •

•

I

"

I

•

I

•

ZU8CMuerrawn

•

1.0G .

. 4.10 •

, BUhnonportal

•

Foy er

-

, ..... ... -. ,, .... . . . '" .....

-~

..

--'---

.... . .•.. ........ ..

•

.---•

I. \ I , I 11 I

--

....

I

I

... I - Il, ' I . ._..-.4'_'"t ..

Tra!o

~-

Lage r

., : :' '

I

_::+~ _.

\

.

,

,

•

I

I Elektrlker I

-_ .. .. .

-

•

..o.aF-D i;ut

•,

, •

2.UG. . . ... :, • •· -6.50..

•

I

I

,

Tisc b.1cr

-13.50

=.;:=:, . I . ..

------------- ----------- .:: ,0.:

I

-

- -----

..

. _ , _' .

-

--'

- -- - - ~ ..

.:....---=-=-- +j-.:: I' I

.

• • •

, I

I

,

-

--

,

--- --I1 ~-=---~ . " -" ::~ ·r:::-:_~ . ~ I

.... -

••

, ,

•

._,

I

1

:-17.50 • ••• • • •

I

I

II

,,

•

• •

I

-411--- ~-

•

,

,•

4.UG

•

•

,,

I I

•

8CW<lCW"9'8"rawn r.

1 .,Y,,,,G:.:,•.,-+,_-:.3.:...5:::0::....__

_L.L....J

i _ .__..•

•

:

.,.--

·• •

--- -- ---~ ~ -----~., ...

.-: .-/"\ + ,. -- ._.+....

_- -_..

I

I

.-

..-.. .. ... __ .. ..,.".,,,

--

, ,I,

---r:

i I

I

I

1

I

Ground, sevenlh and nitllhfloor plans, and section

23

\

-

â&#x20AC;˘

--"

Model

n il'

hod." la nguage o{,hc 1J1'(~ject

\"IJlI' l ~

'THE HEART OF ,

and a balloon launching area will be localed on Ihe lee-side. allhe fOOl oflhe inhabiled cliff-like mountain clevalion.

Lines of lraffic mu SI be reslruclUred so as to allow conce mralion IOwards the centre . The inner-city traffic system is a critical. dynamic slructure which affects Ihe urban field of forces . and it must be sufficie nll y elastic 10 cope with increasing (oncemralion and complexity. By acting as a framework for change and progress. it promotes Ihe .event ' of the city .

green spaces which meel and inlerlace wilh Ihe cily fabric in Ihe form of a green bell , waler canal s, and parks, A high-Iec hnology busine ss park belween Ihree golf courses creales a gree n link Slrelching belween Ihe foreSled areas 10 Ihe nonh and soulh . which aCls as Ihe second pole of Ihe urban field of lension. Allhe poinl where Ihe boulevards cross Ihe green bell. a lake is erealed . In addi lion 10 providing recrealion facililies. il supplies waler 10 Ihe ca nals which penelrale Ihe cily eenlre. A Irough 10 Ihe nonh . crealCd by running Ihe mOlOrway under Ihe cily ce nlre and by Ihe pos ilioning of lhe main sewage works. will accommodale an open-air amphilhealre and provide noise-proleclion for Ihe housing eslale above. A . mountain' will be crealed from Ihe malerial excavaled from Ihe lrough, lake and canals.

The windward slopes will be used by della-planes .

~lELUN-SENART FIRST PRIZE, 1987 A plallfor the fll/Llre oftile French new /OIVII of M,'/IIII -Senarr A plan for Ihc dcvelopmenl of Melun-Se nan from a rural area into an urban centre demands exhauslive anlicipalion . Our slralegy has been divided inlo Ihrec planning phases (see pp. 26- 7). based on Ihe inlc raclion of conlrasling infraslruclures.

The urban zone is conlai ned belween boulevards slrelching caSI-wes!. This ensures Ihe preservalion.

Ihroughoul all phases oflhe development, oflarge

..

COOP HIMMELBLAU Wo/fD. Prix and H. Swic~insky Project team: BLlrkhord En/rup . Srefon Krliger.

Fron ~ Som. Morhis Borz. Monfred Hieber.

SlIsonne Rorh, Sylvia Burion

•

-

- ..

•

•

,

•

•

•

•

•

--

.--' --- ..

•

.'

..

..

' •

•

•

•

. '

•

•

•

•

.., , ...

•

.

•

' . '.

'

.

•

..

•

•

•

•

AA FILES

I~

25

• r

I \ r I

\ \

•

•

•

•

---- - -~

•

---

-----

-- -----~

•

•

•

••

•

• •

26 AA HLI:S IS

Primary planning phase. 1995: 1nfrastructure Once a fra mework for change and progress has been established, cOlllrasting infrastructures gradually intensify the urban fie ld: density, complexity and height.

Stage I: Radiating boulevards.

77,e core ofthe city is defined by an industrial triangle, between the N6 motorway and the railway tracks. 77,is is where the radiating boulevards originate.

Stage 2: Little L.A .

'Webs' ofcottages are 'stretched' between the lines vfforce.

Second planning phase, 2003: The battle offorces Apartment complexes in the form of'b eams ' containing half-finished multi-storeyed lofts are introdu ced. The aim is to provide the maximum amount ofspace, and thefi ve-metre-high walls enable inhabitants to convert the space into a twostorey dwelling according to their needs. Each unit contains an elevator which can be used to fit out the interior or to lift a car on to a parking deck next to the apartment (the deck can also be converted into a garden). The structures are particularly well suited to the variety of uses that would occur in a densely inhabited area.

Stage 3 : Violating the infrastructure.

Violent and unexpected structures intersect and differentiate the existing web ofprovincial buildings: the complex of loft-b eams.

Stage 4: Intensifying the infrastructure.

Dynamic elements are fed into the system , intensifying the life of the city.

Third planning phase, 2010: 3-D zoning A bent platform covers 'Downtown and Interchange '. Th e tran slucent skin of the platform itselfaflat building measuring 500 x 500m. stretches over the city centre.

Stage 5: The demand on 3-D zoning.

The centre is now set to reach a major degree of height and density. In order to catch up with this development and to answer the increased demand fo r public and social space, a 'law ofspatial zoning ' is instituted. It requires that open spaces offi ve metres height must intersect the structures at vertical intervals a/twenty metres.

Stage 6: The development ofheight.

Abruptly , the whole city develops.

Height becomes ever higher.

THE CITYIS OPEN

27

- •-

. " .-

..,.-

-

•

,

-------

•

•

-

I

~

••

-

I

I

I • •

•

Ih

•

I

.,0

' Id

I

"j.,

' 10

"

•

..,

.. .

-

"

..

•

,

~

,

•

,•

'.

~I

•• ._

., . . , ... . ....... . .....

• '.. ... ".

,

~.

r'

1... "

...' .......~, . ..

,

•• •

.- - -

..J f· ' .

•

,

Su

•

". •

•

• ••

.

•.

•

•

•

" e __ ""-.e. ~

•

•

. . "- ........ .

-

•

/,

,

,

"

•

.

\

-,

• • •

,•

,

•

I,

, ,•

,

'

•

•

•

•

,

,

:"1 ••

,

• ,• •

•

-'.

• •

•

•

•

,

• •

••

•

,

'"

,

•

•

(

•

"

•

,• I

•

•

--

"

'- ._._.

•

,

•

•

-.•

.~

..

•

•

•

,

••...

•

• I

---,

, •

'.

LleClsalnt

.'

•

••

- - _Ta

-----..

•

•

•

'

'. ,.

•,

,

•

...

""'_ ...

•

•

...

'--..

' /or

'-'•.

•

•

••

,

•

,_, .""'·w,,·

,

•

,

~

•

•f ., , f ,.

,

- •'

•

~

"

,

. . ..:~ , . . . ...

•

•

.... , .

•

-.,t '~_ .. ... ' .• "4.

• •

... . ~ ~-

\

I

•

•

•

• •

• •

• ••

1

• ,

,.

•

..• ,

•

•

•

\--•

•

, '

..

.. •

•

--...

•

•

•

•

•

..

•

,

..

•

•

'.

•

,

,

.

• •

..

•

•

,

•

." .'.

•..•..

• .. .

•

~

..•

•

•

·1 • \.

'.

• •

•

\,• • • •• • •

.

,

\ •

•

\

• ,

• •

••

\,

,

•

,

• .

•

• • ~. "

.',

••

,,

•

•• •

I•

•

\ ,.

.

•

.,

•

" •

•

.........._._.-.

"

\' .

.,

..

•

• ••

1

••

....

I' ' •.

••••(·l.~."'~·~t'\"'....... \

•

.

I

........ .

•

.... .. ...

•

•

...

•

"" •

,

,

, \

•

•

1 •

. ,

•

•

,

•

• ·I

•

,

•

...•

.,

,

•

•

,

•

•

•

•

•

..

•

•

,·

• •

•

•

.- ."

• •,

I

\.

•

•

•

•

•

•

, . ~

•

\

\

•••

,

•

•

"'

•

••

••

•

, "•

,

•

•

•

•

•"

• ••

•

•

•

•

"

../'

..

•

•

','

•

'

•

••• •

".· .. ,., .. ",

"

•

-

•

.... '''

. ........

•

.

....

,

, SOME ALTERNATIVE SYSTEMS IN THE 19TH CENTURY Martin Kemp

---."

, J.

_.-

..-

'-

•

_.

--- --- c - o- -,

•

---- ......- --- -

.

••

~ .

•

'.

•

.,

..

']

••

-.

•

I

r

I •

~

•

•

I'

I

·

, I

I

•

.-~

•

..

,

•

•

,, -

-, -

•

'

•

-_.'

:

·•

•

••

•

.. - .

_.

•

",

•

•

•

... -..

..

• ••• ,

"I.

•.'

+

1 . - ... ". .

1 ....... ) , ,

......-.- _."

I ~.

l -'-' •

A ' •

,• •

•

•

• •

•••

••

.

• ••

....

•

,·

.- .

•

•

,

. .". - I

1

c

I

_.. ....... - ... .

",

.-."

•

• • •

.

._._-. --

. .. "-'1

•

.

•

.- . ,

"

I

"'-r

' - - ' , ' - ' - '"

.' · -~··:·~~·-·i· ..

.e • •

--.-_._.---

,

.

I

•I

I

I

• •

.it •

I •

·i •

• _ ..... _._ _

/•

_.It

t

•

I I

•

•

-- .--- --

I

\

I

, ,

-- ~

•

,>-.

I

-

-

•

.... .

/

I,

••

,

•

• •

,•

~

•

,

••

I

.

,.'.o ll.!""'!" .

,

•

,

•

•

· ..

.

I

• • •• ••

I

-.... -,

I

•

••

.. .-

·

'

,

I

•

•

•

•

_. ..... .

.. '

•

. 1:.' .

•

I I

--

-- ..- ....

•

• ••

.-

•

•

•

.. _.-

. "

•

I

t .-.t

•

'r,

•

.- ..

•

•

•

• •

• •

•

. •• ..

.

•

•

•

• •

, I

.,

,

,

•

\I ..

, •

r'

..

--

.

, .-

-.-

_...,.

•

~,

•

.

..

•

-

•

-.

-

I. Hmdrick Handius, 'Geometrical construction!or (/ Spiral Staircase in Perspecti" e with Upwards Recessi"n .and 'Spiral Staircase in Perspectil'!' I\'itll Upwards Rea.Hion ·.from Instruction e n la sc ience de perspective. 1625.

30 \\1111 (, 1"

ome of the technical and visual problems with the canonical form of linear perspective were apparent from a very early date. Piero della Francesca explored the geometrical oddities of the orthodox projection of horizontal squares for viewing angles wider than ninety degrees. I Leonardo da Vinci considered, amongst other difficulties , the question of lateral recess ions in wide objects, such as a long wall at right angles to the spectator' s axis of vision 2 During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries intermittent attempts were made to construct depictions according to alternative methods in which forms underwent lateral or upwards diminutions , but it was only in the nineteenth century that sustained attempts were made to establish new systems of per spectival representation as full-scale replacements for the orthodox method .

Although none of them succeeded in their ultimate aim - and therefore remain as byways in the history of representation - they did contribute to the significant nineteenth-century debates on seeing, representation and illusion. One of the systems also entered the mainstream of his tor icalliterature on perspective through Erwin Panofsky 's classic essay in 1924-5, Die Perspektive als 'Symbolische Form '. 3 Two main alternatives were posited. One involved the use of rectilinear convergence towards vanishing-points in or beyond the lateral and upper boundaries of the picture plane. The other relied upon the conviction that straight lines appear curved when seen in the full visual field surrounding the spectator. This second variety found expression in various systems of curvilinear perspective. In this essay I should like to draw attention to some little-known examples of British and German publications that advocated one of these approaches. The curvilinear system enjoyed the longer and more persistent history , but the rectilinear method was the earlier to be advocated in a treatise specifically devoted to the proclaiming of a new ' truth' in the representation of architectural forms.

A number of topographical draftsmen , including Saenredam and Turner, realized when sketching tall structures that the sides appeared to undergo a vertical convergence, but in the practice of painting they were content, in common with generations of artists, to accept that verticals looked correct when portrayed parallel to the vertical sides of the painting. The most systematic of the early attempts to codify the upward convergence occurs in the treatise of the Dutch graphic artist and publisher Hendrik Hondius. In his Institutio artis perspectivae of 1622 he used a picture plane inclined towards the spectator, when depicting an upright structure, to provide a vertical vanishing-point, or 'contre poinc\' as he called it (Fig. 1).4 However, none of the early experiments resulted in completely reformed systems for perspective as a whole . What seems to have been the first step in this direction was taken in 1836, when Arthur Parsey announced a new perspective system in which the standard custom was to be rejected.

Parsey, a miniature-painter, was a distinctly eccentric figure. As a self-proclaimed mathematical innovator , he claimed to have solved the hoary problem of squaring the circle. The results were published in 1836 in hi s Quadrature of the Circle Discovered , but attracted no following. 5 Five years later he published what he optimistically hoped would become a standard textbook, Arithmetic Illustrated in Woodcuts. 6 Hi s publications on perspective attracted rather more attention in professional c ircles. His ideas first appeared in his Perspective Rectified , and were substantially reworked in 1840 under the title Th e Science of Vision or Natural Perspective!' These publications were supported by hi s vigorous activities as a lecturer and polemicist.

Hi s central philosophical claim was that all existing systems were based upon artificial concepts of 'knowing' rather than the 'seeing' of a 'simple impress ion on the organ s of sight '.8 The standard idea of the picture plane as a section of the cone of rays, 'however true in conception or abstract science' , is not 'a true or useful figure in vi sual scie nce' .9 He looked therefore for a form of representation which would produce ' sy mbol s' or 'emble ms' for the actual visual process.

AA FILES 15

c

B

A

E L-------~Fo-------~~------~-

2. 'The Use of Chords to Determine the Apparent, Relative lengths ofForms , according to Arthur Parsey', based on Perspective Rectified , 1836.

E: eye; A, Band C: uprights at equal intervals; DF: chord ofthe first upright registering its apparent relative length.

p H

c

B

A

.....,E

3. 'The Apparent lengths ofForms recorded on the Picture, according to Arthur Parsey', based on Perspective Rectified , 1836.

E: eye; HG : arc ofsight; PG: picture. A, Band Care the points to be projected on to the arc, and the positions transferred to the plane PG.

•

.f

.... ,

, p..,

==

•

•

VC

.

•

.

.

.•

• t

~

=t , I

Fiq

~

• -r-J.

Yi~

'

•

s

••

-.r'

~

--

•

6

.•

~

l<::

/'

-I(

•

,

. ..

4. Arthur Parsey, 'Perspective Projections ofa Cube by the Orthodox System (left) and Rectified Method (right) ',from Perspective Rectified , 1836.

31

•

-

.

•,

- ..

•

~.

• "

•

,

5. Art!!"r Parser. 'Perspecril'e VieI\' oIa Proposed Cell/erer." C!!apel './rom Natural Pe rspecti ve. 1840.

PL A T

r' ,

I :

•

...

I

---,.J •

I

I

•

, +-+--, •• /

I

~

• •

\

,

\

I

1

. -'-

•

4

I

-

r ·

-

J

,

,

I

,

-

--

1'1 -

&.,j -

7

••

J

r:7

'

r- ,

• .'

_Lt -

•

~

1

It, , ,5.'(

•

II

• • •

_ 01

•

--

•

- I

I I

•

"

1

lA

I

I .~ 'l. - -

I

I

/~ .

I

1

I

.'

•

I r I

-

• ~

I- .

•

I

I

•

,

I

•

I

- -

-- ...L. - - .

I

6. Arthur Parsev. 'Recrified Perspecril'e Svsrem ''/roll/ Natural Perspecti ve.

1840.

The opti cal princi pl e behind hi s approac h re lied upon hi s re ~ tatemenl of the old Euclidea n formula of vi sual angles : ' th e proporti on of angles of vis ion suppl y us with the appa rent le ngth o f lines " 0 The correct visual measure for the relative length o f a line is represented by a chord of the visual sphe re located at the base of the upri ght which denote!> the position of the picture (Fig. 2). The le ngth of eac h chord is recorded on the plane of the picture (Fig. 3). The results of hi s re vised system , compared to the projection achieved in the normal manner (Fig . 4) , arc not remarkably different, but he does in sist that the ex tra meas ure of optical 'truth' represe nts significant improve me nt. A greater probl em is that the statu s of his vertical plane, remini scent o f the old method , is unclea r. Hi s assertion that 'a picture is only the representati on of some space between the eye and the object , and the pos ition of that space is the pl ane of the picture ' hardly helps to clarify this problem. I1 One result o f Parsey's problematical abandonment of the conventional use of the intersection was that parallel verticals became free to exhibit upwards convergence. Although this principl e is not emphasized in hi s 1836 publication , it became the main foc us of controversy.

The argument was initiated in a scathing review by 'Candidu s' in the Architectural Magazine of 1836. '2 The correspondence columns of the magazine became a battleground for competing theories. John Ru skin , under the pen-name 'Kata Phusin' , wrote on no less than five occasions, drawing four replies from Parsey . ' 3 After getting into difficulties with hi s original arguments against the representation of converging verticals, Ruskin settled on the traditional reasoning that verticals depicted on the picture plane will themselves be subject to the same kind of perspectival effects as the upright parallel s of the object when seen in nature . He affirmed the validity of the standard notion of the picture as equivalent to a tracing on the glass of a window , which 'co rresponds with the image on the retina ' .

Parsey 's response to Ruskin and other doubters was to devise demonstrations of his system in action , such as hi s ' Perspective View of a proposed cemetery chapel, showing the natural convergence of the perpendiculars', which he exhibited at the Royal Academy as ' the First Picture Ever Drawn with Optical Accuracy' (Fig . 5) . Subsequently, in the heavily augmented second version of his treatise, he attempted to strengthen his arguments, providing additional demonstrati ons (Fig . 6). However, hi s attempt to introduce a radically new physiology for the eye, in which the iris becomes the 'seat of vision', hardly helped his case" More reasonably , he noted that the evidence of the newl y di scovered miracle of photography confirmed hi s contention that the perpendicul ars of tall buildings appear to converge when we look up at them.

Although the Parsey controversy is littl e more than a byway in the hi story of representation , it is deeply symptomatic of a long-standing debate between advocates of ' natural' vi sio n and supporters of canoni cal perspective. Generations of artists had felt uncomfortabl e with the dogmatic principles of linear perspective in their most presc ript ive form , and Parsey's claim to have replaced Albertian conve nti ons with 'Natural Perspective" found a recepti ve audience . No less an art ist than John Constable reacted favourably to the 'great truth and origin' al ity' of Parsey' s arguments. '5 Perhaps the greatest probl em with Parsey's syste m is that its internal inconsistencies were even greater than those of the stand ard tec hnique.

If Parsey's premi ss was to be accepted , why did parallel hori zontal or lines pass in g diagonally across our field of visio n not ex hib it pe ripheral conve rge nce? The log ic of hi s asse rtion that ' the visual ray, of a revo lvi ng eyc from a fix ed posi tion of the head make .. . a circle with an infinite numbe r of radii ' would be that the re would be multipl e periph· eral conve rge nces in an orbi ta l manncr - resulting in a curvilinear !>ystem .'h Such a system had indeed made earlie r appearance s. and has proved to be the most persiste nt of the alternative methods.

Two a rti sts o f the Renaissance pe ri od, khan Fouquet in France and Konrad Witz in Switzerland, developed styles of representation in

32 "" t-IU.' I'

"/,ArK

t

,,

.'

'

"

.,' ,.'

-----

,

,

"

I

,

I I

,

I

I

, •

,

,

•

•

,

• •

, ,

,

,I

'- -- .. , , ',,

,

, ,

•

,

,

,,

,

,

,

•, , • •

,

,• ,

•

•

,,

•

,

,

-- --'

I

,

.

,

' , "

, •

-

,, ,

, •

i,

"

•

'

.:.'. ,----"':':::' -- ----...

-::---

I

,

.

_... - -

-

'

... -

,

'"

, -

. '

"'.

,

... --',

•

-- -- "':'r!~~ - .. - -. .- -- --- ~ ... 'd' ~

' H I'

.

- ----

~IZ I I~J

- --- , -- .. , '----

.'

.

_..

"

---

,.-.. _j)

-- .,. ~

,

--

"

-- --- -- -.

,/

•

,,

,,

"

.

, , ,"

'- "

-<

,, ,

, ,,"

,

•

.•

,

-

-

...

-

- /

"

...

-

.•

-

-

'

'~ I

......

_

_

'

,

•

.,

'

• .< •

,

,,

,

, ---.

• • ••

-

••

, •

•

•

,

,.,

..

'

,

.,. i .... ~-

.

,,

, '

._"

,

-

,

•

,

,

/

~"

, . ,

•

•

,

,

/

--. _ _ _ • , •-

•

...

,

,

,, ,

q

,

,

- - -- _ _ _ ,__

f

,

,

•

._ < • . _ -- I - - -

"' 7'-,7 - - ... - - .•

l

,

.. --

,

-

_ ._.

.'i. J I

_ · 1 - ~ ' ll

I.,'

--- .. --

"

I

-- T-:l~~

, .

-___"":"" w _(l ....

•

'---~ - - . -. --__

-

-- ~

- . ----.--_

,

.,

•

•

'

,

--

, I

/

~

~--

, .-- --- r' ,, ,, ,, ,I, ,, ,, I , ,,I ,

___ __ - - - - - - -1-- - .. , .' ,,I ,, ,,

......

---. .-...

--_ ....."" .. --, . .--".- ..

_

/

•

, "

L.• • •• .-.......... '

..'

•

,

-...... . . ...

"

, , , . ...-_.

--. "" . ~------ -,

•

"

•

•

~-

, , ,

•

,- --

•

I

,

== ,

-

'-

-

-

--.

-

---- -

-._--._-

7. William Herdman, 'System o/Curvilinear Perspective ',from A Treatise on the Curvilinear Perspective of Nature, 1853.

which the straight lines in architectural structures are curved to a greater or lesser degree. 17 In sixteenth-century Florence, the military engineer, instrument·maker and scene designer Baldassare Lanci invented a form of surveying device for the representation of a view on the inner surface of a half·cylinder. Lanci's form of curved perspective was criticized in Ignatio Danti's commentary on Jacopo Barozzi da Vignola's Le due regale. IS It may have been Lanci's method , or something close to it , that provided the basis for the wide-angle, curvilinear experiment in Carel Fabritus's View of Deiji painted in 1652.'9 Behind these and other relatively isolated incidents lay the persistent anxiety that Euclid was correct when he argued that differences in size were registered in the eye by visual angles and were therefore correctly recorded by intersections on a curved surface whose centre was the eye, rather than by intersections on the vertical plane of a conventional picture . In the eighteenth century, for example, Thomas Malton acknowledged that the painter 's system was essentially artificial, and that the 'true appearance' of an object according to natural vision was recorded by ' the section of the rays on the surface of a sphere'20 However , Malton was typical in accepting that the orthodox system remained the onl y effective and practical way for the artist to proceed .

The nineteenth century witnessed a series of claims to replace rectilinear perspective with curvilinear representation. Perhaps the most thoroughgoing was that advocated by William Herdman , a Liverpool artist and freelance astronomer. His main publication, A Treatise on the Curvilinear Perspective ofNature, was published in 1853. 2 1 His under, lying premiss was that , 'as far as the eye is concerned, we live at the centre of an immense globe, which has reference only to that organ, having the visible horizon and the arch of space described by the radius of the eye to that horizon , for its limit ' 22 His alternative method attempted to depict a portion of that ' globe' . Sets of curved Iines radiate perspectivally from three poles, which act as vanishing'points for 'par, allels' (Fig . 7). The resu lts, in wide-angle views, are sweeping panoramas in which the horizontal lines are bowed in a gentle yet perceptible manner towards the three main focuses. His own drawing of a rei· AA I·/L ES 15

atively wide·angle view of the interior of Rosslyn Chapel shows that the curvilinear effects are unobtrusive , but Herdman is convinced that there are positive gains in evoking our actual manner of seeing and in avoiding the peripheral distortions of the standard system.

Herdman 's method is, however , less complete than it might appear.

He largely evades the question of the curvilinear convergence of verti· cals, His answer to this objection is that verticals will cut the horizon at right angles and will appear ' quite straight for a considerable distance ' above and below the horizon . 23 However, he is prepared to concede that 'where near views of very lofty buildings are taken ' curvilinear con· vergence of verticals cannot be avoided.

Such alternative systems as those of Parsey and Herdman not only contributed to the increasingly urgent arguments about seeing , knowing and representing , but also became entangled with a growing academic debate concerned with illusion in the practice of architectural design. The question centred upon the increasingly precise and incontrovertible evidence that Greek designers had used subtle curves in the apparently straight elements of their buildings. The idea of entasis, the curving of the profiles of columns , had long been known, but the new evidence suggested that the horizontals of entablatures and podia were also consciously bent. The most productive line of debate centred upon the possibility that the Greek designers were endeavouring to counteract illusions or vagaries in the processes of sight and perception.

F. C. Penrose, for example, argued that the rising curves of cornices were contrived to counteract an optical illusion of curvature produced by the inclined profiles of triangular cornices .24 Perhaps the most sophist icated argument was developed by Guido Hauck, Professor of Descriptive Geometry at the Royal Technical High School in Berlin, In his Die subjektiven Perspektive und die harizomalen Curvaturen des darischen Sry/s Hauck differentiated between two forms of perspective, 'collinear ' and 'conform' .25 The former is the conventional system of Western perspective. The conform system (Fig. 8) , by contrast, is a curvilinear method not dissimilar to Herdman's , and relies upon the curvature of the structures in the eye . His argument exploits a

33

•

•

r.1

• ~

,

~

•

•

•

I'

,

11

•

I

1I •

-

-

,

,

I!

, ,.

, •

I

, r

r

3

I r

, •

•

•

•

~

r ,!

•

,

I •

I

I

--,

• • • •

o

• .. .., ..

,,

rI, ".

'~:

, ..-

I

l

~

!,

I ,-

.- ..-, -...

,

• ~

0

o

--

c

0

--

•,

, •

".•

0

•

,

••

•

8. Guido Hauck . . "Conform" Perspective '. from Die subjektive Perspektive , J879.

complex interaction between see ing and knowing . The conform method corresponds to natural vision, but we are so conditioned by what we ' know ', that we 'see' the curved retinal images as straight, on account of an automatic perceptual adjustment which counteracts the optical bending . In terms of pictures, we are conditioned to see what is objectively wrong as subjectively right , and what is objectively right as subjectively wrong. Only relatively unsophisticated and ignorant observers - 'women' and ' natives' are instanced! - will see the curves in an innocent manner. The Greek designers came into the knowledgeable category, and their buildings were designed with curves so that the lines that were objectively wrong should look subjectively right.

It should be realized , as it has not always been, that Hauck was not advocating a curvilinear system for painters , but explaining a specific architectural peculiarity in optical-perceptual terms. Indeed , the way the perceptual process works in composite manner - the eye surveying forms and the mind making conditioned judgements - predisposes us to see in a collinear mode. This explains why his own two treatises for painters were almost exclusively concerned with a mathematically sophisticated exposition of orthodox techniques.'6 The dominance of 'knowing ' over innocent (see ing) in our perception of space was used

by Hauck to justify the conventions of perspective in normal pictorial practice .

It was largely through Hauck that the curvilinear theory of vision and representation came to play such a prominent role in twentieth-century discussions of the status of perspective within the history of illusionistic representation . The great art hi storian Erwin Panofsky early in his career was attracted by Hauck's clever differentiation between collinear and conforlll systems . Predisposed , by the influence of Ernst Cassirer's doctrine of 'symbolic forms', to regard arti stic representations in the Western tradition of naturalism as emblematic of a certain way of thinking (and therefore of seeing), Panofsky developed Hauck 's distinctions within the context of a historical analys is of artistic perspective, making special reference to the Renaissance and class ical antiquity 27 The collinear system was interpreted as the 'sy mbolic form' of space for the Renaissance - conventionalized according to mathematical conceptions and a fixed relationship betwee n viewe r, picture plane and object while other modes of spatial representation, particularly the less rigid spatial systems apparent in the art of class ical antiquity, corresponded more nearly to the natural vision of the conform method.

•

34

The resea rch on which thi s essay is based was undertaken at the Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton , and was financed by the Institute , the Carnegie Trust for the Scottish Universities, the Leverhulme Trust, and the British Academy . A wider di sc ussion of the issues will be found in my forthcoming the Science oJAn.

~

o " ~,

• "- •

•

-- -

II

2

• •

"

I ~

I,

•

-.- -

I

I T.S

~

The fresh sympathy with which Panofsky 's early ideas have been studied in the wake of semiotic , structurali st and post-structurali st approaches to the reading of images have brought his concepts back into play. 2ij The most powerful challenge to Panofsky's view of perspectival space as a 'sy mbolic form ', and the major stumbling-block to neoPanofskian views, remain the writings of Gombrich , particularly his magisterial Art and Illusion .29 As I have argued elsewhere, I think it is possible to reconcile the historical strengths of Pan ofsky's thesis with the perceptual tenets of Gombrich's theory - but the debate to which Parsey, Herdman and Hauck contributed clearly has a long way to run .

Notes I . J . Field , ' Piero della Francesca's Treatment of Edge Distortion ' ,Journal oJth e War· burg and Courtauld Institutes . XLIX, pp . 66-90 .

2 . For example, the discussion in Leonardo' s MS E4r. See M . Kemp , Leonardo da Vinci: The Marvellous Works oJ Nature and Man (London and Cambridge. Mass ..

1981 ). pp. 331-2 ; and C. Maltese, 'La Prospettiva curva di Leonardo da Vinci e un strumento di Baldassare Lanci ', La Prosp ettiva Rinascimentale, edited by M . Dalai Emiliani (Florence, 1980), pp. 417-25 .

3. E . Panofsky , ' Die Perspektive als "Symbolische Form" ', Vortriige der Biblioth ek Warburg, 1924-5 .

4 . H . Hondius, Institutio artis perspectivae (The Hague , 1622); in Frenc h as In struction en la science de persp ective (The Hague, 1925) , p. 19.

5 . A . Parsey, Quadrature oJthe Circle Discovered (London, 1832).

6 . A . Parsey, Arithmetic /IIustrated by Woodcuts (London, 1837) .

7 . A . Parsey, Perspective Rectified . .. with a New Method Jar Producing Correct Perspective Drawings withoulthe Use oJ Vanishing Points (London, 1836), and The Science oJ Vision or Natural Perspective! ... and the New Optical Laws oJ the Camera Obscura. or Daguerrotyp e (London , 1840).

8. Persp ective Rectified, p. 17 .

9. Natural Perspective , p. x .

10 . Perspective Rectified, p. 23 .

11 . Perspective Rectified, p. 45 .

12 . Architectural Review, IV, 1837 , p. 518.

13 . Architectural Review , v, 1838 , pp. 91 (Parsey), 92-4 (Pocock), 94-6 , 191-2 (Ru skin), 228-30 (Parsey), 282-3 (Ruskin) , 331-3 (report of Parsey lecture), 425-6 (Parsey), 426-30 (Chappell Smith), 526-8 (Ruskin), 709-10 (Ruskin).

14 . Natural Perspective , p. XXIV. 15 . Natural Perspective , p. 134.

16 . Perspecti ve Rectified, p. 23 .

17 . J. White , 77.. Birth and Rebirth oJ Pictorial Space (London, 1967), pp. 225ff.; and W. Ueberwasser, Konrad Witz (Basel, 1938) . particularly plates 20-21 .

18. I (E) Danti, Le due regole della prosp ettiva pratica (of Jacopo Barozzi da Vignola) (Rome , 1583), pp . 61-2 . For his actual instrument , see M . L. Righini Bonell i. 11 Museodi Storia del/a Scienza (Florence, 1968), no . 313.

19 . National Gallery, London. For a rather different explanation, see A . K . Wheelock , Perspective , Optics and Delft Artists around 1650 (New York , 1977), pp . 4ff .. 91 ff.

20. T . Malton, A Complete Treatise on Perspective in Th eory and Practice on the True Prin ciplesoJBrook Taylor(London, 1779), pp . 95ff.

21. W . Herdman , A Treatise on the Curvi/inear Perspective oJ Nature (London and Live rpool, 1853). Al so Thou ghts on Speculative Cosmology and th e Prin ciples oJArt (Lond on, 1870).

22 . Treatise,p . 75.

23 . Treatise , p. 99.

24 . F. Penrose, An Investigation oJ th e Prin ciples oJ Athenian Architecture (London, 1851 ). See also W . Goodyear, Greek Refinements: Studies in Temperamental Architecture (New Have n, London a nd Oxford, 1916).

25 . G . Hauck. Die subjektiven Perspeklivf llfld die horizolllalel1 Cun1aturen des dorischell Styls (Stuttgart , 1879) . A good discussion is provided by G . ten Doesschatc.

Penpective: Fundamentals, Controversials. History (Nieuwkoop, t964), pp. 47ff.

26 . G . Hauck, Lehrbuch der malerischen Perspektive, edited by H . Hauck (Bcrlin .

19 10) , especially pp. 122ff. ; and Die malerische Persp ektive . .. (Berlin, 1882) .

27 . A ge neral di sc ussion of Panofsky 's work is provided by M . A . Holl y, En"i" PanoJsky and th e Foundations oJ Art History (lIhaca and London , 1984). See also M. Podro , The Critical Historians oJArt (New Ha ve n, 1982) , chapter v.

28 . E . H . Gombrich, Art and Illusion (Princeton , 196 / ): and The Image and the Eye (Oxford, 1982) .

29 . M. Kemp , . Perspective and Meaning: Illusio n, Allusion and Collusion ', Phi/osoph\' and th e Vi,HI,,1 Arts, edited by A . Harrison (Dordrec ht , 1987) , pp . 255 -68 .

AA FILES

I~

Victor Burgin

--

-

,

-

-

••

,-

I-

'simple geometrical oppos iti on becomes tinged with aggress ivity ' Bachelard , TIle Poetics ofSpace Ithough it makes no direct reference to Althusser's essay of 1970, ' Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses', I Roland 's essay of 1973 , ' Diderot , Brecht , Eisenstein' , has the effect of spatializing the Althusse rian concept of ideology as representation: 'there will still be representation for so long as a subject (author , reader , spectator or voyeur) casts hi s gaze towards a horizon on which he cuts out the base of a triangle, his eye (or hi s mind) forming the apex ' .2 Laura Mulvey's essay of 1975, 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema', 3 subsequently theorized the voyeuristic subject of Barthes's theatri cal space in term s of Freudian psychoanal ys is. The change ac ross thi s five-year period is profound. Instead of a contingent set of ideas which might be di ss ipated by reason, ' ideology' was now conce ived of in terms of a space of representation, which the subject inhabits, a limitless space which the desiring subj ect negotiates by means of predominantl y unconscious transactions.

For all these innovations, however , there remained signifi cant ties with trad iti on. Barthes 's optical tri angle is, after all , one- half of the diagram o f the ca me ra obscura - a metaph or not unfamiliar to students of Marx . Furthermore, 1975 was also the yea r of publicati on, in French , of Foucau!t' s Discipline and Punish.· Barthes's 'eye at the apex' was therefo re eas il y conflated with that of the gaoler , actual or virtual , in the towe r at the centre of the panopti con. For all that AA HLI.:S 15

Foucault himself woul d have opposed it , th is further contributed to the survival of that strand of theory according to which ideology is an instrument of domination - ' the dominant ideas are the ideas of those who dominate'. In thi s context , then, and given the exigencies of a feminist Realpolitik , it is not surprising that one effect of Laura Mulvey 's essay was that all man-made images of women were hencefo rth viewed , without discrimination, as instruments of sadistic objectification , and were therefore proscribed.

I believe that the metaphor of the 'cone of vision', predominant in theories of representation during the past twelve years, is itself responsible for a reductive and simplistic identification of looking with objectification . In so far as thi s metaphor is draw n from phys iological optics, it is inappropriate to the description of psychological functions.

In so far as it is drawn from Euclidean geometry, it is inadequate to desc ribe the changed apprehension of space which is an attribute of soca lled 'post-modern ' culture . pace has a hi story. In the cosmology of classical Greece, as F . M. Corn ford writes , 'the uni verse of being was finite and spheri cal, with no endless stretch of emptiness beyond . Space had the form of . . . a sphere with centre and circum ference, '5 This classical space essentially survived the biblically derived 'flat earth' of ea rl y Christian doctrine, to re-emerge in the late Middle Ages , In medieval cosmology, supercelestial and celestial spheres encompassed, but did not touch, a te rrestrial sphere - the space of human 35

at..'tion - in which every being, and each thing. had a place preordained by God and wa, subject to His omnivoyant gaze . Foucault has termed this medieval space the 'space of emplacement'; th is space, he observes. was effectively de troyed by Galileo: . For the real scandal of Galileo's work lay not so much in his discovery. or rediscovery. that the earth revolved around the sun . but in his constitut ion of an infi nite. and infinitely open space . In such a space the place of the Middle Ages turned out to be dissolved ... starting with Galileo and the seventeenth ce ntury . extens ion was substituted for loca lisation.·6 The vehicle of this changed cosmology was Euclidean geometry .

Euclid wrote the Elements oj Geometry around 300 BC . Husse rl . in The Origin oj Geometry. supposes that this system arose o ut of practical activitiei>. such a~ building . However. the classical concept ion of space seems to have been based upon visua l evidence rather than tec hniquethe horizon appears to encircle us. and the heavens appea r to be vaulted above us . In the Renai ssance this conflic t between obse rvatio n and intellection. between hyperbolic and Eucl idean space. wa~ pl ayed out during the early stages of the inven tion of perspective. (The abse nce of a necessary connection between know ledge of Euclidean geometry and the development of perspective is evident fro m the exampl e of the Islamic world.) In the West. the primacy of geometry ove r perception stressed by St Augustine. who wrote : ' reason advanced to the province of the eyes ... It fo und .. . that noth ing which the eyes beheld . could in any way be compared with what the mind di sce rned . These and separate realities it also red uced to a branch of learning, and called it geometry.' ) Although dependent upon Euclid' s Elements. Renaissance perspective took its most fundame ntal concept fro m Eucl id's Optics. The concept i that of the 'cone of vision' . Some two thousand years after Euclid. Brunelleschi conceives of th is same cone as intersected by a plane surface - the picture-plane. By means of th is model. something of the pre -modern wo rld view passes into the Copern ican uni verse - a universe which is no longer geocentric. but which is neve rtheless homocentric and egocentric. A basic principle o f Eucl idean geometry i that space extends infinitely in three dimensions. T he effect of monocular perspective. howeve r. is to mai ntain the idea that thi s space does nevertheles have a centre - the observer. By deg rees the sovereign gaze is transferred from God to Man. With the 'empl acement' of the medieval world now dissolved. th is ocu lar subject of perspecti ve. and of mercantile capitalism. is free to pursue its entrepreneurial ambitions wherever trade winds blow.

Entrepreneurial humanism first took liberties wi th . then eve ntuall y replaced. theocentric determini sm. accordi ng to a model which is implicitly Aristotelian . and in a manner which exemplifies the way in which spatial conceptio ns are projected into the represe ntation of political relationships. In Aristotle' s cosmological physics it was assumed that the preponderance o f o ne o r other o f the four elements fi rst posited by Empedocle~ (ea rth . water. air and fire) wou ld determi ne the place of that body within a continuum from the ce ntre to the pe riphery of the universe . This m ntinuum o f actual and potential ' places' constituted spa<:e . Analogously. the idea that a human being will fi nd his o r her natural place within the so<:ia l , pace o f differential privi leges accNding to his or her ' lOherent" qualities ha ~ remained a corner-stone of humanist-derived politi<:al philosophies . Newton di~engaged space pu Si' from ristotelian 'place ' ,' and Newtonlan ph ysic~ was in turn overtaken by the physics of Ein~tcin. in which. in the words of Min ko"'ski. ' ~piKe by Itself. and tIme by It~elf. are doomed to fade away IOto mere ~hadl)w~. and onl y a kind of union of the two will prese rve an indepenJent rcaht} ' .• More rel'entl y. the precepts of ge ne ral relati vit y have themselves ~ome IOto que~tion in ' quantum theory' .'" The cosmolollY of mt.xlcrn physic~ has neverthele,s had little impact o n the commt.lOly held world view 10 the West. whICh is stili predominantl y an amalll' m Newton and nstotelJanlsm - ' place. 10 space' . a system

nr

_'"

of ce nt res of hu man affa irs (homes, work -place s. cities) depluyed wi th in a un iformly regul ar and vaguely end less 'space in it se lf'.

In the modern ist avant-ga rde in a rt , references 10 a mutation in the apprehension of spaee and ti me brought about by mode rn ph y~ic~ and mathematics are not unu sual. T hus, for example. in 1925 El Lissi tsky wrote: . Perspective bounded and enclosed space . but sCIence has since brought about a fundamental revision . T he rigidity of Eucl idean space has been annihil ated by Lobac hevsky. Gau ss. and Riemann .·\I Neverthe less, mode rnists more commonly ascribed the changed apprehension o f space not to sc ie nti fic concepts per se, but rather to technology . T hus Ve rtov wrote: ' I am the c inema-eye . I am a mechanical eye . I, a mac hine, can show you the worl d as only I ca n see it ... I ascend w ith aero planes, I fa ll and rise together with falling and ri sing bodies . " 2 Constrained by mechanica l metaphors.

Ru ss ian futuri sm . like cubi sm . ultimately failed - notwith standing El Liss itsky's pro nouncement - to abando n Eucl idean geome try . The mirro r of perspectival represe ntatio n was bro ken only in orde r that its fragments. each representing a distinct po int of view, be reassembl ed according to classical geometric princ ipl es - to be returned, fi nall y, to the frame and the prosce nium arch . 13 In the modern period . space was predo minantly space traversed (by this to ken we judge th at the prisoner has littl e of it). In the 'postmodern' pe riod , the speed with which space is traversed is no longer gove rned by the mechanical speed o f machines such as aeropl anes. but rather by the electronic speed of machines such as compute rs and video links. which operate at nearly the speed o f light. A mutation in technology there fore has . arguably . bro ught the technologism inherited from the spatial pe rceptio ns o f mode rni st aesthetics into line with the percepti ons of modern phys ic s . Thus, fo r exampl e. Paul Viril io writes that 'technological space ... is not a geographica l space, but a space of time'.'4 In this space/time of electro nic communicatio ns. operating at the speed of light. we see things, he obse rves . . in a di ffe rent li ght ' - the ' li ght of speed ' .'5 Mo reove r, thi s space see ms to be moving. once again. to wards self-encl osure . Fo r example. Dav id Bolte r, a class ics professor writing abo ut computer programming, concl udes, ' In sum . electronic space has the feel of ancient geometric space. '1 6 One of the pheno menolog ical effects o f the public applications of new electronic technolog ies is to cau se space to be apprehended as ' folding back' upon itse lf. Spaces o nce conce ived of as separated . segregated , now overlap: live pi ctures from Voyage r 11 . as it passes thro ugh the rings of Saturn . may appear o n telev ision sandwiched betwee n equally ' li ve' pictures of internal o rgans. transmitted by surgical probes. and footage from Soweto . A counterpart . in the politica l sphe re. of the fo ld-ove r spaces of in formatio n tec hnologies is te rro rism . In the economic sphere it is the tende ncy o f multinati onal capita li sm to prod uce Fi rst World irrupti o ns in T hird Wo rld countries , whil e creating Second World pockets in th e deve loped nati ons. To conte mpl ate such phenomena is no longe r to inhabit an imag inary space o rde red by the subject-object 'stand-off of Euclidean perspective . T he analogies whi ch fi t best are now to be found in non-Eucl idean geol11etries - the topolog ist 's Mi:ibiu~ strip. for exam pl e. where the apparentl y opposi ng sides prove to be formcd from a single. cont inuous. surface .

Space. then. has a histo ry . It is not. as Kant wou ld have it. a product of II priori, inhere ntl y Euclidean . categories . It is a product of represen tatio n ~ . Pre-Illode rn space is bounded : th ings within it arc assigned a place along a predominan tly vertica l axis - 'heaven-earth -hell" . or the 'c hain of hcing· . extendi ng from God down to slOne~. Modern ~paee (inaugurated in the Renaissance) is Euc lidean. hori zc. ntal. infinitely ex ten sible. and therefore. in principle . boundless . In the early modem period it b the space of the humani~t ~ubject in it~ mercantile entrepreneurial incarnation . In the late modern period It i~ the 'pa e of induMrial capitalbm . the ~pace of an ex poncntiall y incrcaM:d pace of di ~pcnal . di~place ment and di~~emination o f people and th ing~ . In the

' p'"t -m,lOcrn ' pefll lO 11 i, the ,pac'c "f I""lanc'ial "apll ail,m - thc' "'rlllcr 'pac'c m thc pro.... e:" o f "nphlOin~ llr ·ullf"lulng ·. t" appfl'priah.' a Dcrflucan tc rm . it i, , pac'e in thc proc'c" ,)f ' InH,t\ a~lllatIlHl ' T"c>nt\ ~c>ar, ag" G uy Dd '"ru wrote ahuu t the ullili~u 'P'Ke "f (a pitall-t prouUl"lilln. 'w hic'h i, no lo ngc r bllUlllku h\ C\t~fIlal 'l>ci~ II ~" . Ih ~ ab,tra . . t 'pa .... c of thc markct which ' hau tll u ~, t[l) ~ th e 'llIll>nl>lll\ anJ

qu"llty "f p!;,c·c, ·. "nu hl' l"l\nllllcnted : 'Tht' ,ocil't y "hic'h eliminate;, gel>g r"phl . . ,,1 u" lance repruuuc'c, ui,tance intcrnally a, spectacular "'p,na tlon " SUch . "He fIl" I u"wnu: ' " that of p,ychlcal space . ,· rth elc" . a' I h't\ c> alrcau~ renwrked . p')l"hoanalytically inspired Ihc, ,,rt~, "I rc prc'clllatllln ha\ e: tenueu in rec'ent years to remain faithful I,' th e LU L'ilul'an g~" lIletflL"I - "I}I/( ·"/metaphor' of the modern period .

t the head o f he r 1975 essay o n Lacan ' s co ncepl o r 'T he Imag inary' ." Jacqueline Rose pl aces a q uo tati o n rWIll Laca n ", fir st se minar (1953 - 4): ' 1 ca nnot urge you too stro ngly to meditate o n the sc ie nce of optics ... pec uli a r in th at it alle mpt s by means o f instrume nt s to produce that strange phe no me no n kn own as images . . ," As already obse rved . 1975 was also the yea r of publi cati on of Laura M ul vey ' s essay' Vi sual Pl easure a nd Na rrat ive C ine ma '. with its ow n e mphas is o n. in Mul vey's wo rds. ' the voye uri stic-scopophilic look that is a c ruc ial pa rt o f traditio nal filmi c pl easure' . These essays sho uld be read in ta nde m . as the one is a n esse nti al. albeit somew ha t contrad icto ry. compl e me nt of the othe r .

In te rms of theori es of visual representati on in the Anglopho ne wor ld. Mul vey"s essay is. a rguabl y, the single most influe ntial arti cle of the 1970s. and it is wo rth re me mbe ring the contex t in which it appea red . ~o T he obse rvatio n that the rc is a funu a me ntal diffe re nce betwee n 'c1ass ic' se mio logy. whi ch reac hed its apogee in the mid - 1960s. a nd semiotics sin .... e a bout 1970 has become commo nplace .

The differe nce. whic h in princ ipl e a ffects not o nl y se mi oti cs but all theoretica l di sc ipl ines, is th at the class ica l subj ec t-o bject di choto my ha .. been ' deconstructed' - the inte rprete r is no longe r o ut siue the act of inte rpretation ; the subjec t is now pa rt of the o bject. As I have re marked. the metapho r o f the 'cone of vision '. inhe rited fro m class ical

pe r'pe . . tive. ha s been used 10 cla ri fy thi s insight. If the the me of ' th e look' u(l lll inatcd Angloph one theo ries of film a nd photography ci ur ing th e 1970s (a nd e nte red theori es of painting in the 19 80s). it is pe rhaps because. apart fro m the urge nt sex ual-po litical questions it co uld address. th e cone-o f-vi sio n metaphor also functioned as an a ide -III (;III()i re in a c rucial epi ste mo log ical break with Weste rn traciitio n.

In the 1970s the cone-o f-v ision model was often conjoined with Laca n 's co ncept of the ·mirror-stage·. In Mul vey" s essay. fo r example.

Laea n' s ea rl y geometri c pe rspecti ve ve rsion of ' the imaginary' pro vides a model o f c ine matic ' ide nt ifi cation' in opposition to identifi cati o n "s own ' mirror image' - scopoph ilic objectification . However, as Jacquelinc Rosc's a rti cle on ' the imag inary" is at pains to poi nt out , ' it is prec ise ly at the mome nt whe n th ose drives most relevant to the c ine matic ex pe rie nce as such sta rt to take precedence in the Lacanian sc he ma she refe rs to the scopic and invocatory drives] that the notion o f a n imag inary pl enitude, or of a n ident ification with a demand suffi cie nt to its o bject. beg in s to be undermi ned ' ." On the one hand. the mode l of the cone of vision was valuable in reinstating the ideologically elided prese nce of the observer in the space of representation . On the othe r ha nd, it was compl ici t in preserving what was central to the ideo logy it sought to subve rt - that punctual ego which Lacan

"1111<; I~

"n

l

37

t.dentlflel!> , In hl~ later c ritique of the geometric perspective model of '<IMon , lb a.-.!>urrung that It can 'see itl>elf seeing itself . Much of the pOint of tM Lacaman cnlJque of vl~lon had been 10sI. ThiS IS nowhere better Indicated than In tM debate. followmg Mulvey 's influential paper , which so often revol ed around the objection that she had said nOlhmg about the po~illon of the women m the audience .

We 'lee here precisely what Rose Identifies as the 'confusion at the of an " ego psychology ''', which i. '10 emphasise the relationship of tM ego to the perception·consciouslless s)siem over and agai nst its role a\ fabricator and fabrication , designed 10 preserve the subject 's precaflous pleasure from an Impossible and non-compliant real' !2 (my empha.-.is) . This confUSIOn is supported and compounded by the coneof-vi Ion model. Certainly . as already noted, the model incorporates the 'iubject as an intrinsil: part of the sy.tem of representation, in so far the image projects its ;'Ight ·lines to an ideal point where that subject is . to be ; nevertheless, the object in this case is quite clearly maintained as external to the .ubject , existing in a relation of 'outside ' to the subject's 'inside ' . The object of psychoanalysis, the lost object, may thus easily be confused with some real object. As Rose indicates, it i precisely for this reason that Lacan subsequentl y abandons the geometric perspective model.

'The idea of another locality' . write, Freud , in a famous phrase. 'The idea of another space ' , adds Lacan, 'another scene , the belweell perception and consciouslless '!} (my emphasis) . Psyc hoanal ysis reveal s uncon iou wishes - and the fantasies they engender - to be as immutable a force in our live as any material ci rcumstance . They do not, however, belong to material reality, but to what Freud termed ' phy ical reality' . The space where they 'take place' - 'between perception and conscious ness' - is not a material space . In so far, therefore, as Freud speaks of ' psychical reality' , we are perhaps justified in speaking of ' psychical space' .!· In the passage I have quoted, Barthes speaks of representation as taking place whenever the subject 'cuts out the base of a triangle, hi s eye (or his mind ) forllling the apex' . ' H is eye or his mind ' , in this case, clearly, psyc hical space, is conflated with the space of \'isual perception, which in turn is modelled on Euclid . But why . hould wc suppose thal the condensations and di. placements of desire show any more rega rd for Euclidean geomelry than they do for ArlSlOtelian logiC'.> Some of the peculiar spatial propenies of the theatre of desire are indicated by Freud in hi s paper' A Child is Beang Beaten ' . ,< Here the ~ub)ec t IS p<>,itioncd in Ihe audience and on stage - where it IS both aggre~sor and agg ressed . The ~ patial qualilles of the pSY"hacal mist' ·t'n -tct'TIe arc clea rl y non·Euclidcan : different objel:ts may occupy the same spa,e at the sa me (non)i n, tanl. for example when 'condensallon' occur, In dream, : or subje" and ob,ect may c ollap~e anto eadl other . A, Ro'e "b,crvcs. whalth" pape r ITlO'II fundamentall) reveab IS 'thc ,platting of ,ut.Jecllvlly in the process of beang held tll a 'e \ual representation (male or female), .,. ' Author , reader , 'pe,t.lIor llr v,'yeur ', writes Barthcs, identlfyang hi, sut>jel:t of representallon . All of thesc ,uhJc,·t, deSlrc. but nonc more v;,f iblv than the vo)eur. In Ihe dlolpler nf Bf' IIIX alld NnthIllXIlt'JJ .... hlch !'lea" Ihe tllle ' Tt.c LO"k '. dnJ III whKh UJc,ln refer, In hiS 0 .... n elltended dlscu'~lpn of the I,,,,k .. < ,'ooce" cd In t,'rnl\ PI' geometric per· 'pel'lIve , SloIrlro: r ho""" (I' dC'l'rlt>c hi' ·t>clng -J' -nb)c{·t for the Other" frum the pOSltI"n nr Ihe , ,' ) cur ' Here I dm, t>cnl ,ncr the lc)h,'Ie. <Ikldenl y Ilk-dr J f,"'Nep I .hudlkr.l< d \!od'e nf,h.HTle ' .... eeP' ("cr me Snmel'lo.ltJy ha, 'ccn me '<tralghtcn up M\ ne. run n\cr Ihe deserted , Nlld"r 'I "' .. ~ .. f.ll«' .I1Mm I "r('alh,' a 'Igh Ill' rcltd . 8ul. artre ,onllnuc' , If ht, now rt'f'''I< In hi' \ "~nlll<tK entcrrrl", . " ,hall feel m ~ helolrt beloll f.. ~t .•md 1 <halllktcl"t the 'hghlt"I n,ll'<'. the , ltghte't 1nl!! " I' Iht' <111'1' FM frnm dl'dPrt';tnn~ rHlm m ~ fir" alarm .

Ihe Othl(r IS pre'cnt ':Vl'f ) "'ht'rt' . t>cl.,\!o me , ,1I'Io.'\e In.: . In lhoc neigh · , ""tlOUt.' In kt'1 pr"f..,un.!!\. Ill) t>cmg· fnr "'-'unnr: rntlm~ . ."",,"r, ." A< L<I\:(I" put. 11 , ' I <tm d pKlurr ' (IU<I as T .... ;1< Cin...!" < pKturl'

(I"" ,

in the medieval space of emplacement) .

If Sartre had been less hostile lO the concept of the uncon.clou•. lit might not have excl uded the condition of 'being-for -othen ' from hi relation to the object of hi s scopophilic imere.1. MerlecjU-Pont) " phenomenology moved toward s rapprochement with ps chuan&I) 'h (i n a preface he contributed in 1960 10 a book on Freud , he spo e of ~ 'consonance' between the two di sci plines) . Chapter IV of MerleauPont y's final. unfinished , work. n,e Visible and Ihe InI'isible , .. tilled 'The Intertwining - The Chiasm' , (Chiasma, an anatomical term for the crossing-ove r of two physiological structures, is derived from & Greek root which means 'to mark with a cross' . A cro.s usuall) conSI, IS of one line placed' across' another, but it might also be percei\ ed a. t\\ 0 right -angles - each the reflection of its inverse othe r, and onl y barel) touching each other . Appropriately, then , the same Greek root has abo given us chiasmlls - the rhetorical term for the trope of 'mirroring '.)

The emphasis upon the alienation of subject and object, so often found in interpretations of Lacan ' s paper of 1936 on the mirror-stage ,:' IS absent from this essay by a man whose work so impressed Lacan (an essay in which we rediscover the 'chiasm' in chiasmlls) . MerleauPonty writes: Since Ihe seer is caughl up in whal he sees, il is still himself he ,ee.: Ihere " a fundamental narcissism of all vision . And thus, for the same reason, the I IS/on he exe rcises, he also undergoes from the things, such that. as many painter, have said, , feel my self looked at by the things, my activily is equally pass/l H~ - which is the second and more profound sense of the narcissism : nOlto ~ee in Ihe oUlside, as the others sce it, the contour of a body one inhabils, but e,pecially 10 be scen by Ihe out side , to exist wilhin il , to emigrate Into H, to he ,educed, captivated , alienated by the phanlom, so that the seer and the VISIble rec iprocate one anOlher and wc no longer know which sees and which i, , een :v Fenichel begins hi s paper of 1935, 'The Scoptophilic Instinct and Identification', by remarking on the ubiquity of references 10 th incorporative aspects oflook.ing - for example, folk tale s in which 'the eye plays a double part . It is not only actively sadi stic (the person gazi ng puts a spell on hi s victim) but al so passively receptive (the person .... ho looks is fascinated by that which he secs). ' \() He adds to thi s observalion a reference 10 a book by G . Roheim on 'looking-glass magic': Ihe mirror, Fenichcl observes, by confronting the person with it~ own ego in external, bodily form, obliterates 'the dividing-line between ego and non -ego' . We should remember that Lacan'~ paper on the mirror·stage conce rns a dialt'clic between alienation and identification. an idenu I ' l:ation nOI only with the self. but also, by e)(ten~ion, with other belOlc!'of whom the reflected image i~ a simulacrum - as in Ihe early pheno' menon oftran sitivi sm. Fenichel writes : 'onc lnoh at an object In order to share in its e'l;pcrience ... Anyone who de s ire~ to witne~~ the \C\ ual a{'ti vitics of a man and woman reall y always de~ire~ to ~harc tilt- if experience by a process of empathy, ge nerall y in a homo\C"ual \Cn\( , i.e . bv ell/pathr ill Ihe experiellce of the partller of Ih e 01"1"0 ,1/11' I f{ ' " (my emphasis) .

As' have already remarked, it ne ve r occurred to Euclid . a\ far a~ 1\ kno\\ n, 10 inter~t hi s cone of vision with a plane ,urfacc Thl' Idca , whIC h ga\ e birth 10 perspecti ve, i, attributcd hl Brunelle\chl , .... hn gal'e a famous pracllcal demon'tration of hl ~ in\"entipn , de\Cnbcd thu ~ h} a (ontemp<l rary ob,erver : ' he had made a hole an the panel on wh IC h tilt-re ....a' thl' painting . .. whICh hole was a\ ,mall a' a lentil on thc \lde (>f Ihc palnl Ing, and on thc Nick t! opened nu l p) ranlldall y, like a woman \ 'tra .... hat , to thc ,il C of a ducat or a little more And he w I~hcd the e}c 1(l bc rlaccd dt the hack, \\ here It w3\ large , h) \\ hoc\cr had 11 to \Cc 11 \Ccmed 3' If the real than g w3\ \CCn and I ha\ e had 11 an m ~ hand , and I Cdn gl\c te~!IITlnn~ , . Tn Ill) lnnwlcdge . and \urprl'-C . Lacan ne\'C'I 'ro~e nf Bnlnellc\ct.I ·, nperamenl But thl' hole an thc panel. la c. .... nman ·' "ra .... hat" . " the 'anl<.~ hole Ihrough wh IC h Norman Bale' peer' an Hltdl....'(·k·, P, w iln Had wc bccn ahle . there and the-n o It' drre't thl' C\ C m thc name of a moral (c r1amt , ....'c might ha\C I.lIvNl

II!l •• CI/ft. ' •

Janet Leigh . In reality there would have been no choice. We should not , howeve r . confuse police wo rk with psychoanalys is, or with art criticism , or with art. It is a mistake to believe that psychological states may be empiricall y derived from observable behaviour. The cone-ofvision model, however. encourages prec isely such mi srecogniti ons. As Sarah Kofm an writes in her book on the model of the camera obscura. ' All these specular metaphors imply the same postulate: the ex istence of an originary sense ... [ that ] the ' real' and the ' true' pre-exist our knowledge of them . ' .1 .1 The model of the cone of vi sion. in 1970s theory , has both a pos itive and a negative aspect. On the pos iti ve side, it reinstates the subject in the space of representation; on the negative side , it maintains a subjectobject dichotomy as a relation of inside/outside, reinforcing that familiar confusion in which the psychica l becomes a mere annexe to the space of the social. Thanks to such pos itivism, certain critics pay lip service to psychoanalytic theory, whil e speaking of scopophilia as if there were nothing more to say about it than that it is a morally reprehensible form of behav iour of men.

Catherine Clement has described Lacan's 'era of models ' as fallin g

into two di stinct peri ods. The first was a time of poi nts, lines, arrows and symbols - two-dimensional representations. The second period ' began when he rea li zed that two dime nsions were not enough to make hi s audience understand the theory of the unconsc ious as he conceived o f it : spec ificall y, he wanted to show that the unconsc ious is a structure with ne ither an outside nor an inside . ' ) 4 To thi s second period belong the topolog ica l models - the toru s, the M6bius strip, the K1e in bottlewhich 'gave him the means to represe nt fo rms without insides or outsides. forms without boundaries or simpl e separati ons, forms of which a hole is a constituti ve part ' . )5 Clement concl udes that such geometrical models ' merely complicated the exposition of hi s ideas' .

However , in the spec ial case o f the application of psychoanalytic theory to 'visual ' art , I believe thi s metamorphos is of models prov ides a necessary correcti ve to a too easy confluence of psychoanalytic concepts with some familiar prejudices of pos itivist-intuitionist art theory and criticism - a di scourse too ready to collapse sexuality into gender , psychology into sociology, and too ready to take for granted prec isely that sex ual difference which psychoanalysis puts into questI on.

•

, ,

,.

.-

-

-

• •

, ,

•

•

-.

•

-

-

•

. -- --

o space of represe ntati on without a subject. and no subject without a space it is not. No subj ect, therefo re. without a boundary. This, of course, is prec ise ly the import of the mirror-stage : the founding Gestalt , the matri x within which the ego will take place . For Kri steva , however , there is a necessary gesture ante ri or to this first fo rmation of an unce rta in fronti er in the mirrorstage , a prior demarcation of space. In so far as geometry is a sc ience o f boundaries, and in a certain interpretation of Kristeva, we might say that the origin o f geometry is in abjection. )6 As a concept , the 'abject' might fall into the gap between 'subj ect' and 'object ' . The abject, however , is in the history of the subject , prior to thi s dichotomy; it is the means by which the subj ect is first impelled towards the poss ibility of constituting itself as such - in an act of rev ul sion, of e xpul sion of that which can no longer be contained .

Significantl y, the first object o f abj ection is the pre-Oedipal mother pre fi guring the pos itioning of woman in soc iety, which Kri steva locates, in the patri archal scheme , as pe rpetuall y at the boundary, the bo rde rline, the edge, the 'outer limit ' - the pl ace where order shades into chaos, light in to darkness . This pe riphe ral , ambi va lent pos iti on all ocated to woman, say s Kri steva, has led to that familiar divi sion of AA FILES 15

-.-

the field of representations. in which women are viewed as either saintl y or de monic, according to wheth er they are viewed as bringing the darkness in or keeping it out. Certainl y, in Kristeva 's work the 'feminine' - in the wider sense she has given thi s term - is seen as marginalized by the sy mbolic , patriarchal, order , but it is biological woman - the procreati ve body - that this order abjects . In Th e Revolution of Poetic Language Kri steva writes: ·It is not the "woman" in general who is re fu sed all sy mbolic acti vity and all soc ial representativity ... That which is . . . under the sign of interdiction is the reproducti ve woman, through whom the species does not stop at the " imag inati ve producer " and hi s mother. but continues beyond , according to a natural and soc ial law. ' .1 7 The woman's body, that is to say, reminds men of the ir own mortality. When Narcissus looks into thi s abjected pool, of milk and bl ood. he sees the pale form at the feet of Holbein 's Ambassadors . Thus in Powers of Horror Kri steva re iterates : ' Fear of the archaic mother proves essentiall y to be a fea r of her generati ve power. It is thi s power , dreaded. that patrilineal filiation is charged with subduing . ' ) g Thus, in the rites with which certain tribal peoples surround menstruation, Kristeva identifies a fea r of what she ca ll s the 'power of polluti on' . .19

39

Plotinus's Platoni c answer to his ow n questi on is, of course, the 'Idea'. What is abjected here - distanced by that trope of accumulation, that wave of perfect beings which ca rries the speaker away - is the body itself. as the mere ' matter' of beauty. The abjected matter of which Kristeva speaks, from finge rnai l cl ippings to faeces all that which we must shed, and fro m which we must di stance ourselves, in order to be. ' It has nothing to do with . .. ', writes Plotinus, usi ng a device simi lar to that which classica l rhetoric named preterition. but whic h must wait anothe r fi ftee n hundred years for Freud to conceptualize as negation - fo r, of course. it has everything to do with Plotinus's desi re. We have onl y to view the abject from a certain angle to see a catego ry whic h might have bee n know n to Plotin us, from a text of Longin us - the 'sublime'. Thu s. in its eighteenth-century incarnation at the edge of Romanticism. in Shaftesbury : 'the rude rocks. the mossy caverns, the irreg ul ar un wrought grottos and broken fa lls of waters, wi th all the horrid graces of the

wil de rness itself ... these solitary places .. . beaut ies which strike a sort of me lancholy路 .' 2 For all the disc ussions recentl y devoted to the sublime, I still see it as a simple displaceme nt , a banal metaphorical transference of affect from the woman's body to these cavern~ and chasms, falls and ocea ns, which inspire such fe rve nt ambivalence, such a swoo ning of identity. in these Romantic men . ' Beauties which strike a sort of mela ncholy' - in Soleil Noir Juli a Kristeva shows me the path which leads fro m beauty to an object I ha ve lost, or whi ch has abandoned me;') I also know th at de pression may be the mask whi ch ange r wears - the concept of the subli me may be the sublimation ofa more violent fea r. Adopting the Fascist viewpoint he i~ desc ribing, Kl aus Theweleit writes thus in Male Fall/asies : ' If that stream reac hes me, touches me, spills ove r me, then I will dissolve. sink , ex plode with nausea, di sintegrate in fea r, turn horrified into slime that will suffoca te me. a pulp that will swall ow me like quicksand. I'll be in a state where everything is the same. inextricably mixed togeth er''' (my emphas is) .

It proves, fin ally, to be not woman p er se who is abjected, but rather woman as pri vil eged signifie r of that which man both fea rs and desi res : the extincti on of identity itself. In the te rms of the therm ody nami c model which informs Freud 's concept of the death -dri ve, what is fea red is the 'ent ropy ' at wo rk at the hea rt of all organi zation, all diffe rentiation. In reli gious terms, it is the indi ffe re nt 'dust' to whi ch we mu st all return . The transient matter of the woman's body, howeve r, is doubl y abjected , in that it is chronicall y organized to re mind us of our common condition as brief events in the li fe of the spec ies. By thi s same token, howeve r. the woman also signifi es prec isely that des ired 'state where eve rything is the same' : the pre-Oedipal bliss of the fu sion of bodies. in whi ch in fa nt and mother are ' inextricabl y mi xed '; that absence of the pai n of diffe ring . condition of identity and meaning. whose ex tinction is deferrcd until death.

propo, of look ing. Sa rtrc write, : ' ,t ~I ppcar, th at thc' \I "rid ha , a ,o rt of drain hole in the middle "I' Ih helng and that it i, perpetuall y fl owing off throu gh thi , hoic .路" It i, pe rh ap, thi , same intimation of 10,' in the regi , te r "I' th e vi, ual wh ich th e qualt((Kentn defended it-cif again,t b) fcti,h i,tica ll y turnin g th e intuition into a ,ystem : ' pcrspecti ve' - built not onl y upon a foundin g subject. the 'POlnt of view', but ai,,, the di sa ppearance of <111 thin g, in thc 'vanishing -pOint ' . Prev lou,l y, there wa.' no ,ig n "I' ah'em:c . The

was ce ntral to Ari, totelianism. In classical c'o,mol,'gic" spacc wa, a pl enum . Similarl y, in the medieva l world. God', creation was .~1 fullne >s without gap . In quattmcento per,pective the subject tiN conlronts an ah"ncc in the licld of vision . but an abse nce disa vowed: th e va ni shin g-point is not an integral part of the 'pace ofrcprescntation : "tuated 1."1 the horilol1 , it is pc rpetuall y pw,hcd ahead as the subjcc't ex pands Its own boundary . The vo id remains ahjected . In later. non Euclidean, gcol1letry wc lind thc'pherical plenum of claSSical

There is an extraordinary passage in Plotinus in which th is particul ar apparition of the abject is allowed to reveal itself. in a discourse created precisely to conceal it. '<l Plotinus has been speaking of beauty; he continues : But let us leave the ans and consider those works produced by Natu re and admitted to be naturally beautiful which the creations of an are charged with imitating, all reasoning life and unreasoning things ali ke , but especially the consummate among them, where the moulder and maker has subdued the material and given the form he desired . Now what is the beauty here? /r has nothing 10 do lI'irh rhe blood or rhe mellstrual process : either there is also a colour and form apan from all this or there is nothing unl ess sheer ugliness or (at best) a bare recipient, as it were the mere Matter of beauty [my emphasis]. . .. 'Whence shone fonh the beauty of Helen, battle-sought : or of all those women like in loveliness to Aphrodite: or of Aphrod itc hersclf: or of any human being that has been perfect in bcauty : or of any of these gods manifest to sight. or unseen but ca rrying what would be beau ty if we saw?41

h"I'I'(l1' \'(IClli

-

cosmologies collapsed upon itself to enfold a void. For Lacan this figure, the torus, can represent a psychical space in which the subject repetitiously comes into being, in a procession which circumscribes a central void -locus of the lost object, and of the subject's death.

Much has been made of the insecurity of the 'post-modern condition ' , and of the attendant ' crisis of representation'. There is nothing new in insecurity; it is the very condition of subjectivity, just as it is the condition of representation to be in crisis. This is not to say, however, that nothing changes . I have argued that our space has changed, and that our optical models for negotiating it are now out of their time. In ' Women's Time ' Kristeva describes a mutation of space, a new 'generation' of 'corporeal and desiring mental space', in which ' the very dichotomy man/woman as an opposition between two rival entities may be understood as belonging to metaphysics'. She asks, 'What can

"identity", even "sexual identity" , mean in a new theoretical and scientific space where the very notion of identity is challenged?'46 In this changed space, this new geometry , the abject can no longer be banished beyond some charmed, perfectly Euclidean , circle. The postmodern space of our 'changing places' can now barely accommodate the old ghettos, which are going the way of the walled city-state.

Perhaps we are again at a time when we need to define the changing geometries of our changing places. I do not believe that an art/theory which thinks of itself as political should admonish, or exhort , or proffer solutions ; it should simply describe . Perhaps it is again , in this time of post-industrial revolution, the moment for a realist project. It cannot, of course, be what it was at the time of Courbet, or even of Brecht.

Attention to psychical reality calls for psychical realism - impossible, but nevertheless ...

Photog raphs by Victo r Burg in .

ism (which in today's terms we might say 's haners the object' rather than deconstJ1JclS the subject-object dichotomy); further . his obse rvations agree with those of Eisenstein: 'the fourth dimension (time added 10 the three dimensions)'. ('The filmic Founh Dimension' (1929), in 1. Leyda, editor, Film Foml: Essays on Film Theory (1949), p. 69) .

Vertoy's 'unmotivated camera mischief (Eisenstein). on the other hand. often seems to point towards the 'w rap·around ' spaces of non· Euclidean geometry . (Information in this note derived from L. D . Henderson, The Founh Dimension alld Non-Euclidean Geometry in Modem An (Princeton, 1983) .)

14. P. Virilio, L'Espacecritique (1984) .

15 . P . Virilio , Speed and Politics (1986) .

16. D . Boiler , Turin g 's Man (1984), p. 98.

17 . G . Debord, Socieryofth e Spectaele (1983), para . 167 .

18. 1. Rose, 'The Imaginary', in Sexuality in the Field of Vision (1986) .

19. 1. Lacan, Le Seminaire, Livre I: Les ecrits techniques de Freud (1975) , p. 90 .

20 . Mulvey herself has continually denounced the widespread anempts to freeze her evolving argument - a n argument to be traced through her film-making , as well as he r writing - allhat partic ular, 1975 . ' frame '.

21. 1. Rose.op.cil.,p . 182 .

22. 1. Rose, ibid .. p. 17 1.

23 . 1. Lacan , The Four Flmdamelllal Concepts ofPs),cho·Analysis (1977), p. 56.

24 . Since writing this essay, I have come across the following note made by Freud: 'Space may be the projection of the extension of the psyc hical apparatus. No other derivation is probable . Instead of Kant 's a priori detenrunants of our psychical apparatus. Psyche is extended ; knows nothing about il. ' Standard Edition XXIII, p. 30.

25 . S. Freud , '''A Child is Being Beaten" : A Contribution to the Study of the Origin of Sexual Perversions'. 71" Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, vol. XVII , pp. 175-204 .

26. 1. Rose, op.cil.. p. 210.

27 . 1. -P . Sartre. Being and Nothingness (1966). pp. 369-70.

28 . Mul vey's article is clear in its insistence on the narc issistic. identificatory aspect of looking. However. in this article identification is seen uniquely as 'that of the spectator fascinated with the image of his like .. . , and through him gaining control and possession of the woman within the diegesi" op. cil. , p. 13 .

29 . M. Merleau-Ponty , 71" Visible and the In visible ( 1968), p. 139.

30. O . Fenichel. 'The Scoptophilic Instinct and Identification' , in H . Fenichel and D .

Rapaport, editors, The Collected Papers of 0110 Fenichel (1953), p. 375 .

31. Ibid .. p. 377.

32 . A . Maneni . Vita di Filippo di Ser Brunellesco, edited by Elana Tosca (Rome, 1927), pp. Ilff. , quoted in 1. White . 71" Binh and Rebinh of Pictorial Space ( 1972), p. 116.

33 . S. Kofman. Camera obscura del'ldeologie (1973).

34 . C. Clement, 71" Lives and Legends ofJacques Laean (New York. 1973), p. 160.

35 . Ibid ., p. 161.

36. In a response to this paper (at a conference at the University of Warwick in May , 1987) Kristeva said she would 'more ca utiously' prefer the word ' preconditi on' rather than 'origin ' here: she referred to abjection as the 'degree zero of spatialization', adding, 'abjecti on is to geometry what intonation is to speech' .

37 . 1. Kri steva .La Rel'ollllion du langage pot'/ique ( 1974) . p. 453 .

38 . 1. Kri steva , Poumirs de I'horreur ( 1980), p. 92 .

39 . Ibid ., p. 93 .

40. My thanks to Francelle Pacteau for ha ving show n this passage to me .

41 . Plotinus, E,mead I. Eighth Tractate, Beauty: quoted in A . Hofstadte r and R . Kuhns.

Philosophies oJArt and Beallly (C hicago, 1964), p. 152 .

42 . Shanesbury, 'The Mo ralists. Part Ill. Section n', in A . Hofstadte r and R. Kuhns, op. cit .. pp. 245·6.

43 . 1. Kristeva, Soleil Noir: Depression et Me/tmcolie ( 1987), pp . 107ff.

44 . K. Theweleit, Male Fall/asies ( 1987) .

45 . 1. -P. Sartre, Bein!(and Nothingness. op. cit .. p. 343 .

46. 1. Kristeva, ' Women's Time', in T . MoL editor, 71" Kristeva Reader (I 986) , p. 209 ,

Notes 1. L. Allhusse r. ' Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses: Notes Towa rd s an In vest· igation', in Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays (1971).

2 . R. Barthes. ' Diderot, Brechl. Eisenstein' , in Image-Music- Text ( 1977) , p. 69.

3 . L. Mul vey, ' Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema', Screen, vol. 16. no. 3, autumn , 1975 .

4 . M. Foucaull , Disciplin e and Punish ( 1977).

5 . F. M. Cornford. Plato 's Cosmology (New York . 1937).

6 . M . Foucauh. 'Of Other Spaces', Diacritics. vol. 16 , no. !.

7. Augustine , De Ordine, c hapters 15.42 , in A . Hofstadter and R. Kuhns. Philosophies ofArt and Beauty (C hicago, 1976) , p. 180.

8. 'Absolute space in its own nature, without relation to anything external. remain s always similar and immovable . Relative space is some movable dimension or measure of the absolute spaces; which our senses determine by its position to bodies; and which is commonly taken for immovable space . . Newton , Math ematical Prin ciples of Nall/ral Philosophy. quoted in F. Durham and R. Purrington . Frame ofthe Universe (New York , 1983), p. 156.

9 . H . Minkowski . ' Space and Time' . in A . Sommerfeld , editor , The Principle of Rel-

ativity(1923).

10. 'For example, at extremely short distances, on the order o f 10·H c m, the geometry of space is subject to quantumj1uctuations, and even the concepts of space and spacetime have onl y approximate validity . ' F . Durham and R. Purrington , op . cil. , p. 191.

11. E. Lissitsky. 'K . und Pangeometrie', quoted in P. Descargues, Perspective: History, Evollllion. Techniques (1982). p. 9 . It is necessary to distinguish between ' non· Euclidean geometry ' (or metageomel1y), and 'n-dimensional geometry ' (or hypergeometry). The former. initiated in the nineteenth century by Gauss and Lobachevsky. and deve loped by Riemann, is a geometry of curved surfaces - spaces which are boundless and yet finite ; the laner, also deve loped in the nineteenth century , is the geometry of ' hyperspace' - a hypothetical space of more than three dimensions. The idea of a fourth dimension as a literal fact ga ined much popularity from the close of the nineteenth century and into the 1930s. and exerted considerable innuence on the early modem movement in painting, not least in its more mystical formulations (the fourth dimension as ' higher reality ' - fo r exa mple, in the theosophism of Kandinsky and Mondrian) . After the I920s, howeve r, after the popular di sse mination of the ideas of Einstein and Minkowski . the idea of a fourth dimension of space largely gave way to the idea of a four-dimensional spatia-temporal continuum - with (ime as the fourth dimension. See L. D . Henderson, 77ze Fourth Dimension and NOII -Euclidean Geometry ill Modem Art (Princeton. 1983).

12 . D . Vertov, 'Film Directo rs, A Re vol uti on', Lef, vol. 3 , in Screen Reader 1 ( 1977), p.286 .

13 . At this point the necessary simplicity of my outline risks an injustice to Vertov . The industrial-materi al ist emphasis of some Ru ssian formal ism was aimed at the mysticism which had e nte red early Russian futurist art, primarily through P. D. Ouspensky . In Tenium Organum ( 1911 ) Ouspensky ide ntifies the ' fourth dimension' (see note 11 ) as that of the Kantian ' noumena', and allocates to the artist the function of revealing that ' higher' world, 'beyond' phenomena . When , in 1913 . the futurist Matyushin translated ex tracts from Gleizes and Metzinge r' s Du Cubism (1 9 12) for the journal Union of Youth, he accompanied them with passages from Tertium Orgallum . In the same year, Mayakovsky published 'The "New Art" and the " Fourth Dime nsion''' . in which he cou nte rs the noti on o f a higher, non· material. reality with the assertion that the 'fourth dimension' is si mpl y that of time: 'There is in every three·dimensional object the possibility of numberless positions in space. But to perceive this se ries of positions ad illfinitum the arti st can only confonn to the vari ous moments of time (ror example, go ing around an objec t or selling it in motion) . ' (quoted in C. Douglas , SWlIns of Oth er War/d.,·: Kazi",ir Malevich and the Origim of Abstraction in Russia (A nn Arbor, 1980), p. 3 1) Mayakovsky' s observa ti ons adequately describe the prog ramme of French cub·

AA HL ES 15

41

â&#x20AC;˘

oon

eno ouos

â&#x20AC;˘

I

Nonh elevation

GAZI PARK COMPETITION, ATHENS 'The function of machines - I do not mean their fulfilment of trivial demands , what I mean is their enrichment of the personal as well as the common mythology - is not only beneficial; it is indispensable. These machines are ready for their mythological action only after technology has rendered them useless. Only machines out of use are ready fortheir poetical function ; for their mythological creation. Rust, their companion, embraces them and pushes them forward ... The machine , being first a living worker, becomes afterwards an oracle whereupon incomprehensible spells are sent forth ... ' y. Tsarou chis

42

The city of Athens organized a competition for a 'cultural park ' on a large site of redundant gasworks, some six hundred metres east of the Agora , opposite the easternmost reaches of the ancient cemetery ofKerameikos. The meaning of the rather obscure term 'cultural park ' was not explained, except for a list of items to be incorporated , notably a museum of technology and public gardens .

As coal was used to produce the gas , the site must be cleared of pollution . Its environs, the nineteenthcentury neighbourhood of Gazi , were blighted to such a degree that not much has ever been built there. The gasworks are to be phased out gradually, a factor which had to be considered by the competitors. Gas-containers, burning-chambers and a host of other structures on the site are to be restored . Excavations will take place in advance of the building works, to uncover potentially enormous archaeological wealth. Moreover, the effect, on the site , of these investigations cannot be anticipated.

Three major tasks were required : first, to reestablish the urban triangle consisting ofOmonia Square, Syntagma Square, and Gazi, devised by Klenze in his 1834 plan for Athens ; second, to merge the Gazi district with the network of archaeological gardens which lie west of the site: Kerameikos, Thession , Agora , Acropolis, Philopappos, etc .; third, to create an east-west promenade reaching the botanical gardens some four hundred metres to the east.

Programmatically , it is of paramount importance to challenge excessively compartmentalized notions of history . Industrial, classical and other remains should be integrated on the site. Similarly , we decided to encourage the mingling of permanent activities with transient tourist activities.

The transformation of an industrial plant into a public forum is a fundamental issue. This necessitates emphatic gestures, in terms of both scale and architectural language , which would be capable of reordering relationships between AA FILES 15

Section 1 audi torium 2 gallery 3 restaurant 4 museum court 5 burnmg -chambers, museu m ha ll 6 con temporary technology gallery 7 terr aced gardens

Section 1 2 3 4 5

Keramelkos P,raeusS t terraced gardens sWlmmmg -pool changmg-rooms, bar

6 workshops

artefacts which at present are assembled in one place only for the sake of convenience .

In our scheme new structures, though large , are few . Functional indeterminacy is favoured . The emplacement of the 'cultural park' at the apex of a triangle, the junction of Ermous Street and Piraeus Street, suggests that it should be organized around these two axes, which are intersected threedimensionally . On the ground, the long east-west axis becomes a dromos , or promenade , connecting cleaning-machines, taverna , gas drums converted into aviaries, and an umbraculo, or shade garden, attached to workshops for adult education. At a higher level, the cross-axis consists of a bridge spanning a gas drum and anchored upon the burner chambers , which house an exhibition of contemporary technology .

A propylon, or entrance-space, is created at the junction by means of a large suspended roof rather like a cloud hovering above all the existi ng structures. Its deep-blue soffit would carry a AA FILES Il

'constellation' of spotlights, and the pylons would be painted dark brown and black , like the bases of ancient polychrome amphorae. The structure is meant to be best appreciated from the vantage-point of the Acropolis .

A high wall bisects the site along the east-west axis, framing dramos and agora to the south and public gardens to the north . Its southern aspect, clad in gleaming Pentelic marble , is provided with a grid of brackets to hold ancient and industrial artefacts, thus acting as a colossal open-air museum /gallery.

Rust streaks would gradually stain the marble .

Parallel to the wall is a series of marble plinths devised to support relics.

The no rthern aspect would be painted black, recalling the mountains of coal which once stood on the site . Open channels would irrigate a linear garden , a green strip extending from the shade garden on the east to a western garden overlooking Kerameikos. Opposite the ancient cemetery , terraced gardens would ascend towards a plateau ,

where a swimming- pool overlooks the Acropolis .

The primary gesture of creating the intersecting axes should guide further developments on the periphery of the site. which , released from its industrial function , could reclaim its prime importance in the city .

Our scheme did not succeed. Onlya!ewcompetitors reached theftnal stages. Aftrst prize was awarded, we are told, to an entry which valued conservation above all.

Collaborators: Sophia Xenopoulas, George Katodrytis, Takefumi Kamio

43

,

,,

•

,

Isometric

,,

,, ,

,

1 2 3 4

• ,,

•&.,

5 6 7 8 9 10

"

••

••

"",

.,,

proDylon audi tOrium workshOps (above) public conyen.ences (below) museum court contemporary technology gallerv balcony restauranl and bar enclosed garden terra ced garden

11 12 13 14

sWimming-POOl

agors dramas publ .c garden

tavern a , 6 administration 17 aViary

15

1B umbraculo 19 workshops and studiOS 'above)

~

, ",

" .",

Qi

'"'"

••,

, , ,,• ,, ,

,, ,,, , ,,, ,,, ,,, ,, , ! , ,, • , ,, , f r , I , ,• , , , ,, ,, , • , ,, f : , • , ,'

•,

•,

•••

,,

.

...,•,

1-'-- c

•• •• •• ~ ••

,

,

,

'

I

jl'j " ,, ; ,,: , ,, , ': :: 1'" I

I , I , ,• ,•• ,, I ,, ,• , • , , , • : , , , , , ,• • • , ,

: :;:1:;1,"

•

,, , , ,

' -L I :

,• ,I

:I! I,I I ! I : ~ "" " ,' , '" , " t, / ,

,,,< ." ,I , ' , "" " ,,\ ," ,' ,"~ " : " , , , . , ..

' : : ',',1, . " , • I

I

'

•

I

" " , . , , ,

I

I

I / .....L_

I

, - ---- I I

,

•

.•,

, ,

'

•

,

•• ••, ,

•

•

•,

•••,

I

,••

••

,

•• •

,,

,

•,

I

•

•• •

""

\, ,, ,, ,, ,

",

14

,~

,, ,

,, ,, ,

,,

,•, , ,•,

•" , '.•

,, ,, \ \

•

,

\

\ \

,,

\

,, \

l __ _

•

I

•

•

- - I.. __ ..

-'-'--'.

•

--_ L

-

. --

' ,"{ "j'"

,,

.

--,- ._ , -. -'- - T" -_~

•

--1-- ' f '''':; ,- ,!

-~

,

. ,

-""

•

-'~ " '-'-- - ~'. '

,'---,-,

'-

,

"

- - .- - .-

,

"

Section bob 4S

•

rcean

GUADAL UIVIR PARK COMPETITION, CORDOBA

I •

Like most urban rivers, the Guadalquivir has served a variety of purposes - natural haven , harbo ur , defensive barrier, source of energy - but , since monumental embankments were ra ised upon its sho res in the last century , it has been sad ly neglected .

Flowing into C6rdoba, the Guadalquivir bends ab ruptl y, and its right bank forms the edge of the historic centre , which is dominated by a mosque and a Roman bridge. Thus even today the city can be apprehended at a glance , with its image substantially unchanged over the centuries. The left bank, although accessible since Roman times, has remained a suburb in spite of its explosive rate of growth in recent years.

The competition site comprised two large vacant plots o n o pposite sho res of the river , next to the bend. The objecti ve, as stated by the brief, was the transfOllllation of the Guadalquivir into a focalpoint for the city . To this end the planners dev ised a twofold strategy : the creation of extensive parks o n o ppos ite banks of the rive r, which would be by far the largest public gardens in C6rdoba , and the improvement oflinks across the ri ver - three new bridges, of which one would be solely pedestrian .

In o rder to transform the Guadalquivir into a focal point , we superimposed a rectangular frame upo n the meande ring river , a notio nal enclosure which would act as a conceptual reference fo r all new spaces . Inside it is the park , and fl owing thro ugh it is the ri ver as protago nist, rather like the Serpentine in Hyde Park . The frame is precisely aligned with both major ave nues and local streets, thus it is firml y embedded in the city fabric. A visual focus is established by a cross which is fOl med by the intersection of an arched pedestrian bridge with a

,

-

AI

View a/Cordoba, sho\Ving Ih e Roman bridge and mosque

pontoon carrying mo numental projection-screens, resembling sails rising high above the embankments.

Issuing from the 'frame' is a series of perpendicular spines and banks, which determine the position of gardens , promenades , playing fields, bridges and buildings, as well as extensive terracing . The geometric matrix enables a fine texture of planting, irrigation , lighting and paving to be established. The east-west axes are more emphatic , in order to highlight the tensio n between the gardens on the opposite river banks. Nuances of scale, shading and enclosure are achieved by means of topographical variety as well as varying densities of pl anting , At a primary level , the interaction of the linear geometry with the dynamic curve of the river

-

\

,I

I

,,

,}

,, ,.

,

•

- --

.

.:.... .

..;.-:: -

.

.

•

- ~

-

~.

-

"

----

-

r Jr-,[I( r.J '.J "~

.." .)

.. .I~.. '

"

'

"

j-

'

~,,.

,rJ .) j

"'·a _ "" .J .."'" .. ,''..''' ...''.. ~ ~.......,J.., . . _'::: ~

~

"

-

---

,r ",,'

~

• • ••

' ~•

J

'...J '

...; ___

• _• • '

) (J

. -. . . . w. ,

•

..I"

": . '

',

r

I

'J

'

-

) ( ) ..t~ ,-:...., (.\ ') '_ ,

J '- " )

r,

' ("

~

)/

- ' . J-'' , J

(,r'V 'J ')"

• •

- -= -- '" #

,

.. .

'- - . '.. , .. .

•

"

,

",

' _'_.

' . ,. •• . ' ,

-

-

I)'" ,~,

.....)

. ......

I

..... \~

" 'r .

-

I

t . • .."

_ • . " ~' ,,:,".{...; ... . '.. : .

.-. -::.. :;:".-

-

_

-~ ' - - _# . - .

"-. -....

~. ,

- ,

~

- ~ .

characterizes the various park spaces .

Traditional Andalusian gardens are emphatically formal but inward-looking , usually enclosed , and intimate in scale. In contrast, the Guadalquivir park embraces a range of scales . Implicitl y enclosed , it is devised so as to take on an entirely different aspect at night , when lights beamed across the river enhance the theatricality of the space . T erraced gardens to the east and monumental steps to the south constitute the main approaches to the river banks . The former is an ideal setting for open-air cinema - a local tradition - as well as majo r public gatherings, the latter for son etlumiere spectacles consisting of perfOl I1iances o n floating barges , which take place against a backdrop of mosque and Ro man bridge .

Only a few buildings would be raised within the park: a large rectangular roof by the western edge , providing a sheltered square for a traditio nal fair which takes place in April , and a canopy overhanging the 'concave' embankment , to shelter kiosks, cafes , restaurants , etc.

Our parti established unequi vocal spatial and compositio nal paramete rs for what can o nl y be seen as a lo ng-term unde rtaking requiring major civil engineering works . The use of abstract notation and the delibe rate renunciation of a detail ed design was there fo re a consc io us ideological stance ,

- . -

This scheme \Vas a\Varded a prize/OI' 'th e best

trearlllent a/ri ver spaces '. Jam es Slirling and Ih e Spanish sculpfOr Eduardo Chillida \Vere amollgsl Ihejurors .

~._, _...J.

• 1 \ (

..

I

•....!- -

-

-.

--

-.

I •

.

View a/the public gardens during the spring/air

46

----

"

Collaboralors: Jway How Chell, Spellcer FUll g, Ghada Abu Rahmeh AI' FIL ES I"

-= --- - --

- -

,,

.. .~..-....,

----

..

"~-

~

----

..

------------

--

.'

Jl),

,1'

l ';ell' of the parkfrom the old quarter

' 4",---..-'-....

-

"-_.,,, ..

•

,.

•

....

---.

'

•

•

•

~

•

--. ----•

•

- -.

,.. ,

..

•

Mod'"

47

•

.,

,

,

,

•

•

•

,

•

,

· '. ,

.,

,

.

..

-

-

~

...

.':.~.

. ~

\.

..

,,~ .'-

(

-

-.

~ ' ~

""..

-•

• ••• •

.. ".

•

. ......-'. ., ~"

\ -

• •

,•

",

,

•

, • •

.... .. .~ ~

,4

-

'.~

•

•

,

"

,

•

•

• "

•

•

'.J"

~~

,

•

'. • .", .. '.

\ , .... ' . ,~ ~

;'

\

~.

.. ~,•. '>.:

, .$':,. •

•

•

•

•

•

, •, •

,

"

.',

~.

-

•

" ,

•, :.. "

,

:.~.,,-..,

..'

'. ,",

" • , • • •

.

"

, '. •

. ", •

"... . .' ' ...~,'"'. .., .

•

, •

,

, " •• , .,. ." , .. ,. .,

..

\.

,

, ,

~

"

..<, ,.

• •

I,,

•

••,

•

·•' , • >." ,~~"'­ .

• • " '. ~ ;., • • • •, , .' , • , , •• .•. < ,'.

• , • "' , . . : ~ r::_, , ~~, • . " . ~ . ~'.' ~ " ,.<t:- .. . ..,. ,. - ... . . . "'.... : , .\:.. '.... ~ . . . . ' - : " " '. ' .... ..--. . ., "-,..,","' .". '",',., '..-,.,' . , I .. " . .... ". ', r-' • \" .... \ ._ . . . . \ .'-" , ... , ' , -.'. .. ' " - " ... . ' ':'1'- '.\!:.;: :.l:-. i\."'I ' .' .~. • ".... " .., . '<' . " ..... -, ' •. ' ~.... t{-. ':" ."'.' \; ~."':,..... . ~ -.:.... . ,> . . " .,'' ;"" _ .........

I ' .' • .• \,'- • . - , .,., ..~. ."" ,-.. \....... .''',"', ,,: 'I-' .. ,',' ,':1., • _ .. : .,:, '. .',' -,. ~. .•...

.

'...' ,, ,,,..

•,

-"

· •; ••

"

-I'. '".•

,

•

'.

..

\ '~/"fdJ'/llfll '

"

r',

, .. •

, • "

,

,I •

..,

. , ". · ,• 1 ·•

•

'

'<-~

•

,,

,

,

,

. ' " 1 \ \ ,

,

.

,,

..".., '-. ,

"

,

r.

,I' ,

••

•

•

,

..

•

•

".

,

•

'''\ ,

,

1

•

•, •,

",

Jr-

\

~

•

,

"\,•

tH

v

,~

,

,

< • •

,

....

\' ,

I

,

<

,

,, • (' ,

,

,

I

I

-.-::- -

\'

-,.. -..... .......... "', .

I

•

<

• \

•

.J

// \\

I

/,

"" " ""

""

,1 /:i

"

,

•"

,

\~".. '

1 •

,

,

'

-

\\

----'

I

Site plan ElI;lsllng 1 m OSque

"

•

2 3 4 5

o •

Roman bridge bastIOn Arabwatel·mllls AlcaZ8r Palace and gal dens

6 water-mill 7 lcottlsUstadium 8 small publiC gardens

•

Proposed 9 leiSUre harbOur \ 0 pedestflan budge

•, ••

"\2 pOntoon hgh"ng -maS1Sand projectIOn screens

•

.\...

,3

:1

'I ,

,

sWlmrrung-poOlS \4 Mlla1\oreSP3r \o:. \ 5 II'Jel s1de promenade and d,,,,,,e

.

,,.

"

,

"

I

", ~~

•

I \

• •

\,

,

<

\ \

MOlluments and publi c gardens

\ 6 embankment c anopY \restaurants , elC I

\ 7 nver .shOlegardenS

,8 leHaced gardenS Nal s themS gardenS • ele '9 publiC shelter 1130h11ElS , leml)O' srv fesl 20 ln aqueduct 'ount3 21 22 tounla 1ns 23 plaVground 24 mo numental stepS 25 {loatlng stages 26 sailing club 21 pergola 28 spoflS haldS 29 ho1el 30 avenue 3' padr,Lng

I

\

\

\

\

\

49

•

•

erron

flstlne

____".._" _

t:~

'-

-

--

-

Temporary exhibition structure

.. ......"5.i ,<

•

-

,

._

,

,

•

n

, ._ M

I

"~

,

West elevation, showing, left to right, concert hall, Bismarck monument (silhouetted behind trees) , temporary exhibition structure and youth-action museum

ST PAULI-MILLENTOR-LANDUNGSBRUCKE PRO ECT, HAMBURG The conceptual origins of this competition entry lie in a scheme that was designed quite spontaneously in 1985, There is an unusual city official in Hamburg: the architect-planner Egbert Kossak , an academic turned entrepreneur turned architectural apologist turned energizer. It was he who in 1978 brought together in Stuttgart dozens of bewildered architects and students, including Christine Hawley and myself, and threw a tricky site (with refugees, orchestras, slums, hills, etc .) at us and encouraged mums, dads, kids, dogs and TV cameras to watch whilst we debated or grappled with the problem, It was a sort of success , Christine and I came up with a scheme (along with Jeremy Frank and Stefan Schlau) and made our number with Kossak , Six years later Kossak had become chief building officer in Hamburg, and clearly his 1985 'fishmarketjamboree ' was modelled along similar lines to the Stuttgart event : a two-kilometre strip of the riverside. contai ning a few warehouses, partly filled docks, and bedraggled cliffs, needs a facelift and a redefinition of how it cou ld be used , This time, however , the participants contai ned far more 'doers' than ' debaters' , and there was a healthy sense of rivalry - though no forma l prizes,

50

Christine and I started out with one assistant, Rosemary Latter, Ron Herron was meant to be attached to another team but his reaction on arrival was that it would be more cheerful to join up with us, So it proved, and we hope that whatever else we are asked to do in Hamburg will be the product of this team , Piers and boats and the North Sea wind are in our blood, somehow: Ron was born and bred in the London Docklands , Christine lived five years of her childhood in Sherringham , and I have lived altogether ten years in Bournemouth, Southend and Felixstowe, The character of the north bank of the river Elbe is actually more complex than that of the ubiquitous ' seaside ', It is a mixture of decayed optimismrelatively recently built fi sh warehouses (half abandoned) and a once thriving town centre where now a few cars straggle along the foot of the c1iff and some strong buildings, including the Fishmarkthalle where we worked during the 1985 symposium . At that time we were inspired by the traffic on the Elbe, which was infinitely more busy than the Thames , We devised a series of seven short piers jutting aggressively from the face ofthe cliff: landed piers, or ' land-piers', an idea we had

conjured up in a project of 1970 for Bournemouth , In 1987 we were invited to take part in a limited competition for a central-area redevelopment scheme: part riverside and part parkland, Now we were able to draw upon our admiration for the Elbe, and on the real ization that the fabric of that city is remarkably resourceful- not just the Schile Haus and the turn-of-the-century warehouses but also the solid bourgeois streets are just that bit sweeter (more Dutch-English-Nordic influenced, of course) than in the rest of Germany .

The site of our project is the course of the old city ramparts and the park inevitably created when they were removed in the nineteenth century, Unlike Cologne or Frankfurt or Aachen, however, there is a dramatic twist and fall in the topography , Bismarck's admirers recognized this and positioned his giant monument accordingly, At water-level the daily landing of boats from Harwich (amongst other places) was similarly celebrated with a tough and nearly Arts and Crafts group of buildings. In the last two years the corner of the Hafen Hotel has been embellished with a post-modern tower one would more readily expect to see in the pages of an IBA document. Moreover, the corners of the hills and AA t-1LES 15

.'~ ...• \ •

.. ! ,,':.

•

•

.

, ..

•

•

•

,

•

.. \ \

•

,

•

•

, ,-

,

•

•

r

4

..

, ,

.

: ~...

.

u .

-

..Jt.

J'

~

.. . .

--

"

"

. ",,",' .. ..

• •

,,.,1

.

/"

...,

. ., . " .

1$

•

.,

_

,

•

"

( (

-

a

•

•

-. ....-.'" '

, ...t~

~

,.

'!. l ·ot.

:

,c.

,

.

.

~ . r:

..

2

2

\ .'

, -

.,'; ,-:.

. '. . '

-

-

.. ~'- ' firot-...." • ~ .__ ~ '0 . . -,".'

-

' '''" ~

... . .

:Ji ". 2.

1".'"

.. ..

.

, ' ......_-,r

-.;~ -

.

5

....

'.

•

•

.

•

•

Conceptual sketch

" ._

., '

-

...fi

." -'. "",. 'Y' , .. .J..r .-. .',.... ....

..... : f"" .,'. ' ........ ..,., .. . ... .

•

I...~. _ ,,\. :.....

(

,

.

...

... __ 0 - ; ~~ .r.1';.

.;.;..'

(

2

,.

.

I

L

, ,:....- - ~..... ~ ;~ • .. :;. "

,

"

:

•

•

,', . ..

1

..

cliffs have also been celebrated in various ways.

Our scheme above all encourages people to enjoy the park , to enjoy the changes oflevel, to enjoy wandering past and celebrating the harbour, Bismarck , and the trees . It 's intended to serve the people of the St Pauli district and the others, who anyhow come to the area for football matches or a cheap night out or a walk with the dog or to take their girlfriend for a stroll (and some bullshit about how their grandfather sai led from this very spot to South America) , or all those other reasons why large c ities generate movement , especially at weekends (something understood by McDonald 's franchi sers far betterthan town pl anners). As usual, we tried to put ourselves into the ir frame of mind . They don ' t want monuments, and Frankfurt' s 'culture mile ' would not be appropriate here . They don't want fi xed points whe re music or food or entertainment o r information are dispensed . What they want is a series o f stroll s and occasiona l points whe re yes you can have a drink or yes you might be able to track the path o f the fi shing fl eet electronically or yes you can watch the real ships .

We rediscove red the land-pier , which was used more e xuberantly in the 1985 scheme, but is fashioned much more sensitively er think} in the c urrent project and has become a sophisticated gene ric instrume nt. Its structure and fl ex ibility were developed by the He rro n team and the ir compute rs, so that it is much more atte nuated , more technically AA FILES 15

J"

n \ 'I"

'T'

+', \

-.

•

viable, lighter and tauter than its predecessor.

Anothe r device easily recognizable in the drawings is the trussed arms which' ride ' both the existing landscape and the artificial landscape .

These are first-stage al matures which can accept additional temporary coverings and structures according to need or season. Seaside observers will know about this tradition o f an architecture that remains on the beach during winter, promising things to come next season. Does it add up to a soft , scattered megastructure? Or is it a series of elements inspired by the apparatuses found on ships?

Wandering amongst the trees, the strollers will di ve and rise and track almost without noticing the things that might amuse architects: pavilions which jut out , the subtle pits in the ground , the over-sailing or unde r-sailing .

On the shore of the river is a beached airc raftcarrier - the one mome nt when the land-pier spawns a fragment of itself. Still on the same principl e of accepting and mothe ring substructures, it also contains a 'belly' containing a small market and exhibition building as we ll as another hotel to rival the existing one .

I return to the te rm 'cheerful' : so outdated , so redolent of the sixties, that I delight in using it now . I believe that during the seventies the intelligent architects forgot (or pretended they neve r knew) about e njoyment. The architecture o f pleasure therefo re became toy town (Leon Krier with gold

paint and flags), or just another excuse to build palaces (Saturday and Sunday palaces , of course).

We are now trying to discover another architecture of pleasure . Brighton gets it right in the Lanes as well as the piers - the ridiculous pavilion and the ventilation of the open-ended squares .

We - Christine Hawley, Ron Herron and 1enjoy our occasional threesome as designers - and I hope it shows. We have been asked to do more work on the land-pier and some of its appendages . I think that they will become less and less like buildings, that they will absorb the playthings of the year 2000 as they absorb the raunchy atmosphere of Hamburg .

The architect as sailo r?

The town as adventurer?

The architecturalparti as jostling individuals?

Just popping in and popping out - that is what the third generation ofland-pie rs must be seen to be doing .

Peter Cook Architects: Peter Cook, Christine Ha wley, Ron Herron Landscape Architects: Wenberg, Lange, Eppinger and Schmitke Consulting Engilleer: Peter Rice Computer-Desigll Directioll : Andrew Herron Assistallls: Simon Herron. Susalllle /sa, Michael Kim . Kamal Latiff, Terence Tallg, Robert Ihomsen, Alec Vassiliades 51

•

,

0':

-,

-:"0 ~

~

-

~-

?

~-

I

0

a

M.-

i;'

-,

'-0

0 C 0

r

""O

, r:::=: -

) •

"-:1

-

r

o

co

)

\ .~J

I

, ~

,

o

r

\. _ .

0 0 00 '

c8

0(

o

~c --

o 00

" \' o§\ •

$''"

o -_..--,,'.

o

~ r----.,

=

( :2 =

o

Sire plan

Horelpla n

52

/

, I

"

,I

I

,

,

H

.,

"

, ,.

/

(

,,

, )-

I

-

)

,

1/ I

f

i

I

/ I

,

/ I /

/

/ )

,

•

,

-'

•

•

.

•

•

-

•

,

,, ,

I

1

,

Hotel axollometric alld section 53

..,

•

•

" ,

• •

,

•

.,.

, •

•

r

/1

•"

•

••

•

,

'

~

,

•

,

• • • ,

,,

" '

j

. . ',.

•..'.

"

. ·,

,

•

..

I'.r." .!'l , ' •

-

-

•

,, '

./ " -

·

,

,

, 0,

,

," ,

~.,•...!.

,

,

~

,

.'

,

I

,

-\

f:

,

, " .( .,'"

- .'1: -..

-..

.

~

'

,

"

,·f·

,

-, ,•

,

,-

,

J !~' ,:... ~

,.'

.

• .- •

,

,

,

, ":'i'

,

"

, ' ., -,

..

'

,-. "

..

)

~,

f

,

'

",

,

... .. '""

" -

•

>,-

..J,;' . ,

• •

,

..

J' ..

. 'o. J

•

",

•

"

,,

, , .,.

~!

, ,

"

,

•

•

,

.. .

"

•

,

•

• , .•

.

. , ", ,

1-•

"

•

-

..,..

•

'1W ,.

....:},'

.: ! \\ • .,.;., , ,

,

,1"1 ,1"

,, • •

• '. r .

•'"-•- • ,

'.i~'"

"

~,.

,

,

,,

,

• •

,

•

,,

•

- .. - . - .........

2

•

,

,

'.. • •.. ,-.-

.'

,

•

Early ronaptuo/ sKetch ofa land·pier

54

AA HLF.5 I'

.

•

•

,

-.. ---.

...

-

...

."

. -,

,

-

-

•

, I

,

,

, ,

,

,

, , •

, ,

WARREN CHALK

.-

AA FILES 15

'-

r

.__

__

-

_

........

~

_

_

__

,..

_

_~

•

)

ven the smooth est creati ve ride needs those special barbs to ensure some topography in the action. Similarly, when such a is forecast through the medium of a late-night conversation, it needs the uncomfortable nudge and the deliberate parry: wherever he was, Warren Chalk ensured that the blandness was taken out of the situation. That is why he disturbed the self-satisfied.

He spent the last twenty-five years of his life surrounded by people who gave the impression of always thrusting forward (or maybe sideways) in the pursuit of impressive curricula vitae - part of the mechanism for our nether world of architecture as academe. The more intelligent of them soon recognized that he was not competing with them at all for the tabulations of achievement, yet still seemed ahead of them in understanding the game.

At certain times his criticism seemed to suggest the luxuriant objectivity of the non-combatant. How could he not realize that this would be such an interesting elevation ... useful friend ... satisfying job ... intelligent programme . . . efficient team? So all his friends would scuttle about their business with their eminently sensible manoeuvres , and then remember, months later, that odd questioning remark of Warren's , which had related their decision to something beyond - often the question 'Is this what it's about?' , or 'Is it what you really want?'

I suppose that some of us, whilst recognizing this ability of the seer in him, were also keen that it should be harnessed to The Task. He too. This was probably the reason for his consistent loyalty to the idea of Archigram, and his relative tolerance for those who made up its Group. As the eldest of the bunch , he once remarked that he had chosen quite deliberately to associate with these younger people, and that their energy and naiVete was an attraction, compared to the gentlemanly Mies-Corb dilemma of the Hampstead types. So The Task was identified, and for some years that aspect of his personality which enjoyed intelligent rummaging led to such things as the space-comix pages of Archigram 4 - the fruits of months of research and collecting. His own work, meanwhile, was metamorphosing into more and more daring capsules and machines.

He recognized within himself the need to use figuration, drawing, designing and (ideally) building as the substance of The Task. Designing was not as fluid a process for him as it was for some of his companions, even if the results belie this. But in harness with Ron Herron the process could become magic - there is no doubt that between them lay one of those ideal partnerships of trajectory and sensitivity , which is not as simple as that of one doing the drawings and the other being the critic.

They shared a very full set of experiences, and together came into the centre of London architectural discussion from its darker corners as talented but unqualified assistants at London County Council. A succession of prizes in competitions attracted attention from such Lee colleagues as Robert Maxwell and Sam Stevens , and Warren probably honed his critical abilities in conversations with them , just as he honed his graphic abilities on Ron ' s velvet pen. The Lee became his academy .

When he reached a more fertile community of fellow-searchers , he was able to develop his antennae. If one looks back, once again, to the essential creativeness of his remarks concerning ' what it is about', one remembers his willingness - no , even his delight - to throw into the discussion an unfashionable reference , a chance notion , the name of a disliked person, As fellow teachers we would often disagree about our students. The more I favoured the active, the 'graphicate', the noisy , the more he perversely supported the languid , the sensitive, the arrogant.

This was sometimes, I know , a tease. How he could play upon one's pompousness and priggish insistence on performance!

He was always fascinated by the edges of an architectural situation an English thing to do , especially in America. The combination of his isolation and his fascination with that often witless country was probably essential to him as he reached his middle forties. I particularly remember a pithy description of his arrival at Syracuse , New York , and his seeing, within its desolation , the faint glimmer of its Holiday Inn bar as a kind of

55

rear-view mirror that could summon up the essential mid-twentiethcentury paradox : Europe and the United States as a pair of cultures which both need and resent each other. In parallel, he could recognize the edges of an architectural composition - the warts suggesting to him the markers towards a different, better scheme , if only you had the mental stamina to pursue it to the level of his expectations. In this he shared an essential quality of those two or three people who any minute ' might come through the door' (Banham and Rowe for the English-speaking, Eirmann and Ungers for the Germans, or Utzon and Fehn for the Scandinavians) and inspire near terror of not being able to parry the question ' Why that? ' - or. even more worrying. ' Why not that? ' A true architectural culture is built upon these sudden appearances .

People as edges of his own discussion with himself became an increasing fascination . Not exactly a gossip, he none the less used his friends and . even more, those who were inescapable acquaintances (deans of schools , petty officials, fellow jurors, students, people at the dark corners of a friend' s office) as the playthings of his often caustic wit. Some of them he loved and protected . Though undeniably 'straight' himself, he particularly enjoyed the characteristic edginess of several bisexual friends - a paradigm perhaps of his ultimate love of architecture whilst enjoying the notion of painting perhaps more. He once told me that he had secretly attended painting classes at Manchester Art College (though he'd enrolled for architecture) but had eventually been exposed by a relative. Yet, when in later life he could perhaps have taken up painting, he was already too caught up in the battle of architecture against the feeble and the philistine .

There will now be attempts to research his texts and his drawings.

Undoubtedly this should be done - his work is so condensed, accurate and to the point. Yet the culture they represent is a difficult one to recall: something that came out of Britain in the 1950s, which led to satirical comedy , pop art , mixed-media events , Bowellism , Archigram - that video-as-rabbit-as-bicycle-as-poem-as-cathedral world which is probably unthinkable right now because of its apparent anarchy or apparent unconsequentiality. It stemmed as much from the world of the art school as it did from the Partisan Coffee Bar in Soho or from Cambridge.

Warren was undoubtedly part of the first-named circuit. All along , architecture was learning as much from this as it was from Le Corbusier and Buckminster Fuller. So lateral thinking was inherent and not just acquired - especially from someone so intelligent coming out of this funny corner of European revival . Read some back copies of the Royal College of Art journal Ark (he 'd be reading them now , ifhe were given the task of c1ueing in to himself). His membership of the Royal Interplanetary Society was no hollow gesture.

As we begin the task - so empty without his contribution - of selfconsciously discussing his work, we can only imagine the way in which he would delight in scattering thorns of interference in our otherwise too comfortable conclusions. A necessary irritant has gone out of our lives.

·........ .. - ...

- ..... ·,·......... ....... ... ... ··.... ... . .............. .. .

,

to. rellpllettull •• l ut. 10 t b.

SIID-rlll d1rll o t1oo o f Ro y Li e b t ll oll t .lo aDd we're o ff __ _ ~H ARCRIORAM SO •• i o to or bi t vi tb

thll SPACE COMI C/SC IENC E FICTI ON BI T. Iot«r •• ting 1. tbll tact tbat tb ••• ~ 4i •• produced out.id_ tbe caoy •• tiCD&! c lo llll d ~ ehltec t / ••• tb.t • • 1 tua ti oo e bow 11 mar kod 1atuat1"1I ~~p o f prLDc1 pl •• u ndllrlYio g "

'-;:;>

eurrllot 1o-thiAk1Dg . Wh1c b 10 gr •• t-----

Peter Cook lI u •.r o b t o r

In'' • ., ,.", li d a . r a o f , , , •.• , 1f0 1I. 0 11---1 • • 4 . ln llIaDJ .u.r IlO t1 011 11 . Tb. SPACE

COlti C lUU 'u r",. gT •• t 111 It .

"

...

1 o ll ,c a.n II l1 p lr. a.nd

r no.

,

ot

OO \lJ'a~

( o nc.p tll

From cover alld opellillg page oJ Archig ram 4 . 196-1.

56

A,\ F1L E515

I

-= =

'No magic is so slrong that it may not be overtaken by a newer brand. Images and iconography are disposable and extravagant homage inevitably arouses suspICIon. 'Initially associated with the iconography of the space programme and its underwater equivalents (and possibly the only architect member of the British Interplanetary Society), the urgent appeal in the sixties has now cooledfo r me. Man has leapt up and down on the moon , played a golf-stroke even , und we are not much the better fo r it. ' .. . 1 visited the NASA control centre at Houston and later witnessed the second Surveyor (man less) moon landing on the monitors at the l et Propulsion Laboratories in Los Angeles, collecting small frag ments of the moon surface. But it was an omen.

77w technician assigned to me, sitting infront ofa bank of 39 closed-circuit TV monitors of the lunar operation, was infact watching the l ohnnie Carson Show on thefonieth.

'But it is an enigma , transient urges, buried instances ofa personal past, still stir in the blood; because no single architect ordesigner can hold a candle to the particular iconography that happened then.

'Not to 1V0rry, the anist, designer, architect, may have no relevant role in sociery in any accepted fo rm , but leaping about stimulates hide-bound mentalities. ' â&#x20AC;˘

- --

â&#x20AC;˘

. .-

â&#x20AC;˘

From ' An Unaccustomed Dream' .

- - - --

Unde n vater Ciry , 1964.

~

"

-., " - "

-,

'Ghosts '- 'Phantoms' (with reference to Alben Ayler): 77, e hangl/ps andfea rs ofone's past andfwure CIIltl/res, 1966.

'Architecture is probably a hoax, afantasy world brought about through a desire to locate , absorb and integrate illlo an overall obsession a selfinterpretation of the everyday world around us. An impossible attempt to rationalize the irrational. It is difficult to be exact about influences , but those influences that enter unconscious consciousness are what I call ghosts. ' From ' Letter to Dav id Greene', Archigram7 , 1966.

57

'Human situations are as concerned with environmental changes and acti vity within the city, as with the definiti on of places. Important in this is the precept of situation as an ideas generator in creating a truly living city. Cities should generate, reflect and activate life, their structure organized to precipitate life and movement. Situation, the happenings within spaces in the city, the transient throw-away worLd ofpeople , the passing presence of cars, etc. , are as important, possibLy more important, than the built environment, the built demarcation of space. Situation can be caused by a single individual, by groups or a crowd, their particular purpose, occupation, movement and direction. ' Halesowen hOllsing competition, 1958, with Ron Herron. Second prize.

From ' Housing as a Consumer Product' , Arena , March 1966. =

/

/

•

.

-

_. -

•

•

./ .

------=

I ~

,

'-

10

9

~....

-

\

•

1

\

7

•

/ 6

\

, \

,

,

\

=

I I I

8 ,,

,,

I I

I

I I

I 1

,, ...

-"

1 1 I

;'

' / OJ _/

I

\ ..... -?

I

,

/

/

,

~

,

,

.

, '. 5 :, ,

3 . 1t

,

Capsule Homes , 1964: Towerand typical unit.

58

AA FI LES IS

•

•

'Automation technoLogy has replaced man 's muscuLar skills, eLectronic technoLogy has replaced man 's central nervous system, computer technoLogy will replace one man 's opinions . . .. Thefuture need isf or environmental super-stimulus, interfacing, and soul engineering. ... The internoLfunction of the transient building enveLopes is determined by the appliances they house, rather than any ourward appearance or staticf orm. We must Look beyond the horror ofcurrent compLacency to the unlimited potential, the chance for liberation . .. . '

0

• \'

From ' No-where Man ' , Architectural Design , October 1966.

I

I

I•

'"

--

, 'it~ ,h-Bm g 0 ;....., 0 0 .....

h

g

8

0 ~

-

__._- . _ _-

eo ,

- .......

=---

.~

....

.....

'

". ~.

.'+

IV INDIO

, 1I

I

I

I

\I ,

I

,1

-- ...

•

\

..

1--

-

,

.

I I

'.-.

--

•

..

-. -

La Defense competition, Paris, 1982, wirh RIm Herrol/ , 59

THE CASE OF H. S. GOODHART-RENDEL Gavin Stamp

•

-

-

-- , - -' , -

-

• • •

I . IllIerior ojSt John the Evallgelist at SI Leollards-on-Sea. 1945- 54, looking eaSI.

60

tyl e', wrote Harry Goodhart-Rendel in 1928, ' is the least important of all the unimportant e lements of architecture , and generall y has as little relation to the merits of a building as the cut of a man' s clothes to the condition of hi s soul. To object unconditionally to a style is unworthy of rational criticism - style is only language, and can of itself neither mar nor make the beauty of what it conveys. " Goodhart-Rendel was speaking of the work of one of hi s he roes, the Late Victorian church architect Temple Moore (1856-1920), whose dry and ostensibly archaeological Gothic was out of fashion in 1928, even if not as despised as the vigorous, polychromatic Gothic of mid Victorians like G . E. Street and William Butterfield. But he might well have been referring to his own architecture, which , stylistically , has usually baffled critics. The office building at Hay 's Wharf has always been admired, as it fits in to the conventional interpretation of the development of modern architecture in Britain , but Goodhart-Rendel 's other buildings of the 1930s, in very different styles , have received less attention , while his work of the 1950s has been almost completely ignored owing to the conventional prejudice against 'traditional' architecture which did not conform to Modern Movement orthodoxy.

As one of 1987's bumper crop of centennials (the others being Philip Tilden , Oliver Hill and Erich Mendelsohn as well as Le Corbusier), Goodhart-Rendel has at last received his due - as an architect as well as an architectural critic and historian . To atone for the ' AA Affair ' of 1938 , when Goodhart-Rendel came into conflict with the sociological and political ideals of intolerant radical students, an exhibition of hi s architectural designs was mounted in Bedford Square in June , accompanied by a catalogue written by Alan Powers which admirably charts the man's unusual career as musician , country squire, Guardsman , lecturer , historian and architect. What was a revelation was the architectural work carried out by Goodhart-Rendel between the second world war and his death in 1959. Regardless of fashion and the studied indifference of the architectural journals , Goodhart-Rendel then developed themes which he had first explored in the 1920s in a series of churches, which must be his finest achievements .

It was experience fifteen years ago of the church of St Mary the Virgin in Bourne Street, off Sloane Square (Fig. 2), which first suggested to me that Goodhart-Rendel was a man of rare talent and sensitivity . Here was a building of 1874 in the red-brick Gothic slum-church style of James Brooks, to which , between 1922 and 1926, GoodhartRendel had added an aisle and Lady Chapel. The new work was also Gothic, also largely of red brick, but with subtle mouldings that had a contemporary , almost Expressionist quality , while the divergence of axis between the church and the new approach from the street was brilliantly reconciled by a polygonal porch. This was not all , for GoodhartRendel also designed a confessional and altar-rails in a clever manner consc iously reminiscent of William Burges. Later I di scovered that even the great gilded reredos , ostensibly the creation of that resourceful master of Anglo-Catholic baroque Martin Travers, had been added to and improved by Goodhart-Rendel. Here, evidently , was a real master of style - and of tact.

And thi s was all done at a time when nobody with any pretensions to taste had a good word to say for High Victorian Gothic , when avantgarde undergraduates like Evelyn Waugh and Harold Acton had yet even to decide that Early Victorian was amusing . No wonder that in the 1950 edition of hi s Gothic Revival Kenneth Clark referred to GoodhartRendel as ' the father of us all' . He was the real pioneer in the appreci ation of the Victorians . His articles in the Architectural Review in 191 8 on 'The Churches of Brighton and Hove' was the first thi s century to take those High Vi ctorian masterpieces seriously, and in 1924 he wrote that ' the neglect of the Gothic revi val [ is] the most di stressi ng feature of contemporary architecture . ' 2 How unfair, therefore, that those who made extensive use of Goodhart-Rendel's celebrated card-index of Victorian churches - like AA ..'LES I~

Nikolaus Pevsner , a co- founder of the Victorian Soc iety in 1958 _ should have had so little to say about the man' s buildings, for they express and exemplify hi s unde rstanding of the intentions of Victorian architects. Goodhart-Rendel was one of the last to bridge that distressing gulf between architectural history and practice. He was an architectural writer of rare quality; the 1953 collection of hi s pre-war lectures, Eng lish Architecture since th e Regency, remains the most illuminating , penetrating and entertaining account of Victorian and Edwardian architecture (and at long last it is to be reprinted) . 3 Nor should it be forgotten that in 1924 Goodhart-Rendel published the first serious study of another neglected architect of a different century: Hawksmoor .

But Goodhart-Rendel was not interested in these men just as historical curiosities: he was concerned with what their buildings had to teac h.

History was a means to an end, and that end was modern architecture.

What he admired about the Mid-Victorians was their concern with structural truth and rational expression, qualities he attempted to show in hi s own architecture. The interest of his buildings, therefore, is that they are three-dimensional documents of architectural history, exemplars of vital traditions, with the added subtlety of presenting precedents at one remove. Gothic is reinterpreted by way of Street and Temple Moore ; Byzantine by way of l. F. Bentley and Beresford Pite. In 1912 Heathcote Statham wrote of the various Bank of England branches by C. R. Cockerell - another of Goodhart-Rendel 's heroes - that ' the study of the detail s . . . is a liberal education' 4 The same could be said of Goodhart -Rendel 's churches . Their importance is that they demonstrate how precedents can be exploited without either pedantry or pseudery .

It is possible to enjoy Goodhart-Rendel 's buildings for the decorative use of materials made subservient to an overall discipline of geometry and structure, but to appreciate their qualities fully requires familiarity with the Victorians and Edwardians that he so admired . And of course, in that very English way, he admired not only the leading figures , like Street and Butterfield, but also the unfashionable, the neglected , the wayward and the perverse. In .1949 Goodhart-Rendel gave his celebrated lecture 'Rogue Architects of the Victorian Era' , a study of nonconformists like himself, those who would not follow the fashionable manner of their time - E. B. Lamb , Bassett Keeling , lames MacLaren, Beresford Pite.

Beresford Pite (1861-1934), like Goodhart-Rendel , was happy to use any style: Michelangelesque Mannerism in Mortimer Street, Byzantine in Brixton, even ' Professor Cockerell's Greek' - as Lethaby complained 5 - in Euston Square, as well as an arcuated structural brick manner of his own . Pite was important to Goodhart-Rendel, as he was a direct link with the Mid-Victorians , a knowledgeable interpreter of Pearson , Butterfield , Bentley and the younger Scott. Rendel reproduced Pite 's Diireresque drawing of the great saddle-back tower of Butterfield 's St Alban's , Holborn , in his book of 1953 (Fig. 3) .

Another bridge to the Mid-Victorians was Halsey Ricardo , to whom Goodhart-Rendel was related . Ricardo (1854-1928), like Pite , was prominent in the Arts and Crafts Movement. He had a particular interest in facing buildings in washable coloured materials and in 1900 published a series of obituary articles in the Architectural Review on Butterfield , the master of structural polychromy , whose 'hard', angular Gothic could scarcely have been less respected at that time.

Goodhart-Rendel was a direct heir of the Edwardians. His first executed work - a fa"ade for an office-building in Calcutta designed in 1908 when he was still reading music at Trinity College, Cambridge - ex hibits, amongst other influences, a debt to the Byzantine of Westminster Cathedral. Goodhart-Rendel greatly admired its architect, l. F. Bentl ey , who appl ied the direct and honest structural principles of the Gothic Rev ival to an inte rpretation of the Byzantine - a style to whi ch Goodhart-Rendel would return at the end of hi s life in hi s unexecuted and over-ambitious designs for Prinknash Abbey. In other ea rl y works , such as the Eton Boys' Club at Hackney Wick of 1912 and AA FILI;S IS

2. The llelVaisle and Lady Chapel of 1922-36at St Mary the Virgin . Boume

Street. London. seen from the na ve of 18 74.

---

- -â&#x20AC;˘

- --

â&#x20AC;˘

-

---

-

3. William Burrerfield 's great slum church ofSt Alban '5. Holbom. London.

1859-62. dralVn by Beresford Pite in 1884.

61

- =.-: - - - - -- - - ----~-.;;;:Oi 4. Th e wwerofSt Wi/frid¡s. Brighton, 1932-4.

5. Perspective ofthe new ward blockfor the Princess Elizabeth of York Hospital fo r Children at Banstead Wood. 1936-46. dra\Vn by J. Raymund Binns.

'--:.tIft I

I

1_'''.-

- r'7 - '

â&#x20AC;˘

f

m'.I '

.""

---

J

'~

,

r

6. The rebuilt church of St John the Evangelist at St Leonards-on-Sea, 1945- 54 , with Arthur Blomjield 's to wer of 1881 01/ the left.

62

Tetton House, Somerset , of 1924, he designed in the fashionable ' neoGrec' or neo-Regency manner, with hints of Soane and Cockerel I. He returned to Cockerell for instruction for an exquisite little building in the City of 1951 - a tantalizing work , for it was soon swept away for something bigger and inferior .

It was really with hi s additions to St Mary' s, Bourne Street, that Goodhart-Rendel branched out on his own . The highly intelligent, highly personal neo-Victorian manner used here was then developed , less literally , for his first complete church , St Wilfrid' s, Brighton , of 1932-4 (Fig. 4) . St Wilfrid's does not use the pointed arch - the windows are segment-headed. But by its carefully laid , subtly patterned brickwork and with its proud saddle-back tower the church proclaims its respect for the great Victorian churches of Brighton that its architect so loved .

St Wilfrid's is not , however, just an exercise in subtle neoVictorianism, for the interior is an impressive space achieved through the use of a reinforced-concrete structure which is honestly expressed.

Here is the other side of Rendel, the architect who admired structural rationalism and geometry both in the work of the High Victorian Goths , and in the teaching of the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. The cross-section of St Wilfrid's was based on a dodecagon - the old threepenny bit - and the transverse arches can be read externally by means of the haunches which rise through the lower plane of the pantiled mansard roof to stop flush with the upper plane . This strange piece of structural honesty may also be a reference to Sedding , who at St Peter's, Ealing, extended his arcade piers vertically through the roof and linked them by low arches above the slates: quite why I have never understood. It is this rationalizing, precise side of Goodhart-Rendel that accounts for much about his most famous but , arguably , least typical building - Hay's Wharf. It certainly explains why he once answered , in response to a question about its style, that Hay's Wharf was in the 'Early French Gothic style '.6 Viollet-Ie-Duc is never forgotten.

The foolishness of interpreting the architecture of that confused and turbulent decade , the 1930s, purely in terms of a progression towards one ideal of modernism is demonstrated by Goodhart-Rendei' s other important secular work of that period , the Princess Elizabeth of York Hospital for Children at Banstead Wood in Surrey. The core of this institution was a characteristic ' Old English' mansion by Norman Shaw , to which additions were made after 1936 in a style so sympathetic that they might have been designed by the master himself in about 1905. It is certainly true that other 'traditional' architects in the 1930s, like Lutyens or Giles Scot!, might well have designed additions which could have been sympathetic to Shaw in the use of materials and general massing , but none would have been as self-effacing as GoodhartRendel. Indeed , when the Shaw mansion itself was badly damaged in a fire , Goodhart-Rendel restored the exterior so carefully that hi s substituti on of tile-hanging for half-timber on the gables fooled Pevsner and Nairn (but not Andrew Saint).

The most remarkable building at Banstead Wood is the ward block, only half of which was completed when work ceased in 1946 (Fig. 5).

In order that every south-facing room could have a balcony to enjoy the sun , Goodhart-Rendel stepped back four straight , horizontal glazed storey s so that part of the roof of one storey becomes the balcony of the one above. The whole structure , asymmetrical and ungainly in section, is supported on vertical piers behind , some of them left free-standing a concept , achieved by a rectilinear frame of reinforced concrete, whi ch mi ght have sati sfied Aalto or Corbusier. But Goodhart-Rendel was not content with that. To fit in with its til e-hung and gabled neighbours, and also, very important, 'to reduce the undul y institutional character that might intensify the alarm that any child must feel on entering a hospital' , 7 the raw concrete frame was faced in special red til es (remini scent of later AaIto) and the whole building - even the raised water-tower - given pitched, til ed gambrel roofs . Style might AA F1 Ll:.S

I~

be unimponant in judging a bui lding 's wonh , but it is still imponant in ",hat i~, after all. a vt~ual an . Thi, remarkable building , which ought to be better k.nown, i~ one of very few which make a convincing bridge between the Late Victorians and the Mode rn Movement.

The ,econd world war , whi ch heralded Goodha n -Rendel's late nOl~ ­ en ng a, an architect, brought di rect oppo nu nities wi th the ca;, ualti c, of bombing. What is ge nera ll y dep ress ing about Britain 's post-war archi tecture is how few badly damaged churches, whether by Wren or by Butterlield, were acc urately restored . With Wren, the travesties of th e original s arc inexc usable, as Wren was reve red . With Victorian c hurc he~ , the hard, origi nal. uncompromisi ng Goth ic of Bu tterficld or Street was still too much fo r many a rchitects to stomach. At Goodhart Rendel's favo urite St Alban's, Holborn , for instance, the int erior wa, recast by Adr ian Scott , who replaced Butterfield 's tough polychromy with a tasteful essay on the theme of Bodl ey's St Augustine' s. Pendelbury , that se minal des ign of the 1870s . Thi s is supreme proof of Good han -Rendel's obse rvation that All the later churches of Pearson, and of Bodley, all the churches of Moore. accord very much better with what at the moment is considered to be good taste than any desig ns by the equ ally competent architects of the generation preceding theirs ... when Butterfield and Street. their heads full of adventurou s fancies. eage rl y took toward nove lty and development steps their successors made a poi nt of retraci ng. All that these successors could teach to thei r disciples was good taste, and the history of art has shown , here as always, that in the not very long run the wages of good taste is death .'

Fortunately, Goodhart -Rendel was able to demonstrate how a High Victorian church ought to be treated , and pay his respects to hi s great hero Street at St John the Divine, Kennington, a church whi ch had been completely gutted . The building was ca refull y and accurately restored. usi ng the spec ial thin red bricks empl oyed by Street, and Goodh art Rendel deli ghted in replacing Bodley 's later reredos with Street's origi nal. Next door he des igned a convent house and cottage whi ch. as John Betjeman put it , 'are what Street would have des igned in his best and most modest manne r had he been as ked to build such dwellings in South London' .9 Who else would have done that in 1952?

At the church of St John the Evangelist in St Leonard s-on-Sea, Goodh art-Rendel decided to retain only the polygonal tower and west wall of the bombed church of 188 1 by Sir Arthur Blomfield . The rest he rebuilt as a new church in 1945-54 (Fig . 6), and it is one of his most complex and satisfy in g works, full of subtle references to Vi ctorian eccles iastical sources . Externall y, he ac hieved a polychromatic redbrick exteri or of wonderful complex ity, playing on the theme set by Blomfield with the build-up of planes of roofs, walls and gables, ofbut tresses, passage aisles, staircases and clerestori es. The result seems almost to anticipate the neo-vernacul ar modelling of the exterior of Hill ingdon C ivic Centre two decades later.

All this is a rati onal external express ion of a peculi arly interesting plan. fo r here, as in othe rs of his churches, Goodh art-Rendel worked through the ideas which interested the best Mid- and Late Victori an church architects, who were try ing to adapt the 'co rrect' ecclesiological Gothic plan to modern conditi ons. One idea was to do away with wide ais les with obstructi ve arcades and instead to have passage aisles cutting through internal buttresses, leav ing a generous nave fo r congregations, as Bod ley did at Pe ndlebury. Anothe r was to achieve spatial unity fro m east to west whil e incorporating transepts to bring more light and space to the eastern parts of the church. Pearson in Kilburn and Bentley in Watfo rd achieved this by conti nu ing the arcades across the transepts. This happens at St Leonard's , except that the arcade is stopped at mid -arch against the wa ll of the chancel arch (Fig. I).

Blomfield had done thi s. but it was a device first used by Street at All Saints, Clifton, of 1863 (Fig . 7) - another victim of the blitz. It was part of hi s way of integrating a narrower chancel wi th a wider nave : just the sort of pragmatic, happy invention , awkward without bei ng self-

7. In feri or o/rhe 1l0Wde.Hro., cd All Swut.\ , Cltfioll . Brnfol. b\' C. £. Slrl'l'l . /863 .

•

•

•

,

-•

8. 77, e I I'GI/sepls al/d chal/ccl ojAII Sail/I.\ . l:.ccle,all . Sheffield.

by Temple M oore, 1908.

63

-

-

9. The west end 0/ Holy Trinity. Dockhead. Bermondsey, London , 1951 -60.

â&#x20AC;˘

I

10. The interior o/St Cuthbert '5, Middlesborollgh. by Tell/pie Moore, 1901.

64

consciously contrived, which is found in medieval Gothic buildings, confirming the essential adaptability of the style that the Vi ctorian Gothicists were so anxious to demonstrate .

But at St Leonard's the subtleties go further. Rendel allows the wall plane of the chancel arch to continue north and south without interruption , so making the transepts structurally dI stInct and domInant to the nave - something that Temple Moore did in several churches , as at Ecclesall (Fig. 8), and William Emerson attempted in his Brighton church , which Goodhart-Rendel certainly would have known , but which , again, can be traced back to Street' s Clifton church (where there are no transepts). Finally , a chancel screen was introduced which was not of wood but of stone and made an integral part of the chancel-arch wall, dividing the arch itself into two . Again this is a rational solution to a particular need within the Gothic Revival tradition . It is as if the lower transept arcades in St Augustine's, Kilburn, or the Holy Rood , Watford, had been turned through ninety degrees. The resulting junction of nave arcade, chancel arch and screen, with the extensions of the arcuated systems beyond, is one of the most satisfying passages in GoodhartRendel's work . In 1928 he admitted that he 'would rather play with Butterfield's box of bricks than with Moore 's' ,10 but on the Sussex coast the debt to Temple Moore was considerable, both in planning and in the use of a dry, spare Lancet Gothic style.

A debt to Moore, indeed , is evident in most of the churches of the 1950s. The finest is the Roman Catholic Holy Trinity church at Dockhead in Bermondsey (Fig. 9). The style of this might loosely be described as Romanesque, with the interior vaults - of concrete treated in a Romanesque manner. The important road-junction , facing west, is held by twin towers , with low polygonal tops. The plane of brickwork of the west walls of these towers is carried across the west window and door above an arch, a feature which unifies the whole fa9ade and which has Romanesque precedent, but was also used in Theodore Fischer,s Garrison Church at Ulm of 1910, built of brick and concrete - the sort of building Goodhart-Rendel would once have noticed. But he did not forget to ' play' with Butterfield 's 'box of bricks'. There is stone polychromy in the sanctuary , and the external walls are enlivened by the most exquisite patterning of red and blue bricks amongst the yellow, all precisely worked out on squared paper beforehand. There is also the favourite Butterfieldian saddle-back tower shape, this time employed as a sort of raised c1erestory before the sanctuary. And then there is Temple Moore 's box of bricks as well. The tall , thin passage aisles through internal buttresses - with round arched summits - ' appear in Moore's later churches like St Cuthbert's , Middiesborough (Fig. 10) , in which the Gothic is less literal and the masses more severe and abstract. At Dockhead , these tall aisles are suddenly brought down low where solid wall supports the c1erestory above, a change in scale which is justified by niceties in planning , but is also to be found in the work of Temple Moore - St Peter's, Barnsley, for instance.

The same features are to be found, always expressed in different ways , in Goodhart-Rendel's other late churches. That at Crawley .

St Francis and St Anthony , is similar to Dockhead. That in Hounslow East, St Mary the Virgin - actually designed before the war , in 1937, is closer to St Wilfrid 's in style but has the interesting feature of intersecting arches at the crossing - two continuing the line of the nave walls and two leaping across (Fig . 11) . This was a theme explored by another Roman Catholic convert , Eric Gill , in hi s unusual centrally planned church of St Peter's, Gorleston, of 1938. Gill used tight pointed arches; Goodhart-Rendel' s treatment is more subtle though less dramatic . The theme of large transept or 'transept-c1erestory ' windows to bring more light in at the crossing is explored , in a curious and perversely asymmetrical manner, in St Cecilia 's. North Cheam .

This really is a 'rogue ' church : a simple brick exterior , remini scent of a miss ion church by Street or Butterfield , belies an interior proportioned AA F1Li:.S 15

- li~e St W ilfrid ' ~ - on the threepenny bit but wi th allenuated class ical

columns in,tead of arcades or internal bUllresses .

The ~ame 'patial ideas are pursued in a class ica l language in a chapel lor the John Fisher School at Purl ey, where a long, low, barrel -vau lt ed nave of conc rete i, answered ex ternall y in a red -brick 'Quee n Anne ' manner, taking it s cue from the pre-existing sc hool buildings. An understated classicism is effo rtless ly and unprete ntio usly handl ed - so rare today - culminating in a remarkable 'we,t' wall, a dramati c com position in the manner of Hawksmoor 's baroque as if re -int erpreted by an Edwardia n, like Me rvy n Maca rtney, with deli cate rubbed-brick detailing. Le ss successful is the Roman Catholic Sacred Heart church at Cobham in Surrey , where the interi or pursues Wren' s experiment s in reconciling a longitudinal axis with a centralized cross-plan - except that there is a remarkable rise in the hei ght of the barrel vault from nave to sanctuary that is not immediately obvious from the west entrance, nor indeed apparent from inspection of the curio usly Ameri ca n Geo rgia n 'Gothic k' exterior.

It is sad that one of Goodhart-Rendel's most allusive essays in neoVictorian eccles iology has been gratuitously mutilated . Thi s is the Roman Catholic church in Stopgage Lane, Liverpool, Our Lady of the Seve n Sorrows (Fig. 12) . To gain most room for the church, yet leave space for a clergy house, Rendel placed hi s building diagonally across the rectangular site - as Temple Moore had done at St Cuthbert's, Middlesborough . The interior, however, would seem unprecedented, for it consisted of twin naves with a central 'arcade' of timber uprights suppo rting a timber lintel placed on the centre line of a ten -s ided chance l sanctuary (Fig. 13). As Alan Powers remarks, it was typical of Goodhart- Rendel to prefer a 'rational solution to a conventional one' for restricting roof spans as an economy. In fact, he had wanted to try thi s experiment elsewhere and undoubtedly knew that it had been ac hieved in the late nineteenth century - by Temple Moore, of course, as Be resford Pite reminded Goodhart-Rendel' s audience at hi s lecture in 1928. This was at Lake on the Isle ofWight in 1892. Thi s building, inte restingly, was exactly contemporary with St Luke' s, Warrington, where Bodley al so placed hi s arcade on the centre line of the chancel arch - an experiment which Goodhart-Rendel may poss ibly not have known. as it belies hi s usual di sparagement of that architect. In spatial compl ex ity , however , Goodhart-Rendel went way beyond either o f these churches. Sadly. the central row of oak piers was soon removed by the villainous Cardinal Heenan, but the exterior survives. Here the plac ing of the broad west windows under a short wide-pitched roof, whi ch recesses the wall plane before the gable rises above , is a clear tribute to another Roman Catholic church architect famed for hi s un compromi sing rationality who was admired by Goodhart-Rendel: Leonard Stokes .

In all of these churches, Goodhart-Rendel was developing ideas and tradition s which the Victorians had first explored . He was not alone in thi s. The churches of, say, Giles SCOII, 1. Harold Gibbons or N . F .

Cac hmai ll e- Day all continue the Gothic Revival well into the twenti eth ce ntury, with greate r or lesser deg rees of originality. But Rendel's churches have a cha racter o f their ow n, the prod uct not o f good taste but o f a resource ful , rational intelligence drawing upon a prodi gious know ledge of architecture . They demonstrate hi s belief in the proposi tion that ' the language of Gothic architecture was nothing more th an e ngi nee ring formally emphas ised' which, 'a lthough acknowledged in prin ci pl e by eve ry di sc iple of Pugin , was never in Brita in developed into a practical phil osophy as it was in France by Viollet -Ie-Duc . '" But engin eering alone was not eno ugh, as the powe r of architecture derives from the use o f resonant fo rms and appropri ate detail. Goodhart -Rendel's bui ldings confirm the o bvious but often ignored truth , that architecture is an acc umul ati on of expe rience, of precedents, whose va lu e oug ht to be independent o f fa shion or prejudi ce . After suffe ring from yea rs of hlinkered prej udi ce. or incomprehension , they can now demon strate

-11 . Th e illlerior o/ St Mar\' th e Vi rgin . HOl/llslolI' Ewt. 1937-55.

â&#x20AC;˘

1

â&#x20AC;˘

/2. Bird 's-eye perspecti"e "iell' a/Our Lady a/the Seven Sorro ws.

Stopgagewne . Liverpool. /951 .

.-.

--

.

--'

"

-13. 77,e il1le rio r o/Ollr lAdy a/Th e Seven Sorro ws. looking / m m th e '1Onh lIal'e towards th e jJolygollal sall cTUary.

65

how valuable traditions may be made alive and useful when handled in a purposeful rather than self-consc ious manner.

Goodhart-Rendel's last church was designed in 1958 , but built only after hi s death the following year. This, Our Lady of the Rosary, the Roman Catholic church in the Old Marylebone Road (Fig. 14), has a great saddle-back tower which is clearly Goodhart-Rendel's work, as is the low seg mental arch of brick which c uts across and behind the tri partite arcade framing the entrance. This playing of games with the logic of rational brick structures, of interlacing arches, clearly comes from the box of bricks of old Professor Pite (Fig. 15). After GoodhartRendel' s lecture on Temple Moore in 1928, Pite had made one of hi s valuable and incisive contributions from the floor: The work of Temple Moore is rather distressing to some of us, because we can not imagine what is to come after. It seems as if he summed up and completed the theory of the Gothic Revival which . . . reverted , in the case of George Gilbert Scon, junr.. from an eclecticism which was an effort to make the style universal and applicable to all purposes . .. to a purely medieval poi nt of view . . . . We are presented with the work of a genius who reproduced the Middle Ages in our own day. and we honour him as such . But where does he leave us?

With what intluence?1 2

Over the next three decades it was the lecturer himself who was to answer Pite's question, and answer it positively - sustaining the essential argument of the Gothic Revival with peculiar originality and historical sympathy.

14. The westlOlI'er and elllran ce a/Our Lady a/the Rosary. Marylebone, London. 1959-63.

Notes I . 'The Work of Temple Moore', read before the RIBA , 23 April 1928 , Journal of the RIBA xxxv ( 1928), 470-91.

2. A letter quoted by Alan Powers in 'Goodhart-Rendel: The Appropriateness of Style', in Britaill in the Thirties : Architectural Design nos. 10- 11 (1979) .

3 . By Century Hutchinson with the National Trust, with an introduction by Alan Powers, to be published , DV, in 1988.

4 . Quoted by David Watkin in C. R. Cockerell (1974) , 218.

5. In Architecture (1911), 238.

6 . As Sir John Summerson recalled . Quoted by Powers in AD, op. cit.

7 . Quoted by Alan Powers in the exhibition catalogue, H. S. Goodhart-RendeI18871959 (A rchitectural Association , 1987) .

8. English Architecture since the Regency (1953),221.

9. Obituary in RIBAJournal, September 1959,405.

10 . Lecture on Temple Moore, op. cit.

11 . English Architecture since the Regency , 220.

12 . Temple Moore lecture , op. cit.

Acknowledgements

Figs. 1.4, 6. 7. 15: National Monuments Record. Figs. 2, 10, 12: RIBA .

Figs. 9. 11 : photographs by Cavin Stamp. Fig. 13: photograph by D. A. Reid.

Fig. 14: photograph by Sydney W. Newberry.

15. Christ Church and MOII路II Hall. North Brix tOfl. London.

by Beres/ord Pite. 1899.

66

AAHLES1~

,

/

J

•

,

I

•

AA EXHIBITION GAI.l.ERY 1-30 MAY 1987

MICHAEL WEBB Temple Island

' What we observe is not nature itself. but nature ellposed to our methods of questioning . ' We mer H ei.l'ef!berg

CANTICLES FOR MIKE I . A VERY BRIGHT LIGHT Webb's penetrating ray illumines the classical. architecture and mechanics . Its heat 'cooks' the dimensions of the little temple to a boil of perfection, to a grill of order , to a degree of rationality adequate to more recently available maths . The light is mechanically pellucid, outlining an a rchitecture that 's flawless, mutable only under the gaze of a shifting observer. That temple is Architecture's. Webb designs the processional of its worship down the nave of the Thames, his ri ver of time.

2 . THERE'LL ALWAYS BE AN ENGLAND The little sub c ruises past a full deploy ment of English social arrangements. Henley - like Ascot , Wimbledon, o r the other annual diss ipative perks of Anglo-f!oblesse - is a spectacle of advantage.

Webb's dad was accountant to the regatta , entitling his son to a choice view from the official Steward' s Enclosure, a Pepperland scene of brass bands , tea, sandwiches, and old boys in straw boaters flanking the finishing-line . Clearly, regatta is simply eponym to event, the large r festival of social calibration infOlmed by the satisfactions of a photo-fi nish , distinction registered only in a flash .

3 . CHILDHOOD'S ENDS ' Heaven lies about us in our infancy ' , wrote Wordsworth , one of Webb's predecessor romantics . Archigram ' s struggle was - in part - to retain the imaginative privileges of English boyhood, to erase continually the barriers between research and play, between architecture and toys . Henley is Webb 's primal scene, remembered through the constantly shifting perspective of time' s motion, represented through the mystifying succession of differences demanded by movement through space. Memory play is mnemonic , conservative, but analytic as well.

Webb the Atomist is looking for a rchitecture's tini-

,

,

•

•

r

S~C"OIJ

68

through the Hlhmenlhh'

•

•

,

£thibitiofl installation in th e M exhibition gallery . showing secfiolls through {he submenn"ble.

est increment, the moment at which the whole complex field is contained in a single, primary dot.

4. SCHEHERAZADE There was a lot of anxiety in London as Webb prepared for this exhibition . Would he fini sh , prepare a satisfactorily full suite of drawings, cover the walls?

Wrong anxiety. Can one expect the dilator , the visionary, to be other than dilatory? The telling of the tale, after all, forestalls as well as reveals: if the end arrives too early, the tale is eclipsed. The recollected heaven of Henley is Webb 's state of nature , his proper time , misty eighteenth-century conceit, the childhood of the modern, antedating crisis. The act of drawing vitalizes.

5 . THE SIN PALACE AND THE TUBE A story is told about Webb carrying a model of the Sin Palace through the London Underground. Rushing to enter a train , he was not quite quick enough and the model was caught in the closing doors , c rushed . It had to be rebuilt from scratch. T . E. Lawrence left the completed manusc ript of Revolt if! th e D esert in a London railway station . It had to be rew ritte n from scratch . What do these stories have in common? The peril s of the rails? The fragility of creation? The tenuousness of record? The wages of sin? No, just two representations of the necessity of a caesura, a cadence to wandering. For his part.

Webb denies the inc ident in the Tube , having moved on to cones .

6 . A CLASS IC EXPERIMENT The question of whether light propagates as wave or part icle has been a centre-piece in the invention of modern phys ics . In 1803 Thomas Young conducted a class ic experime nt. In front of a source of light (sunlight coming th ro ugh a pinhole in a sc reen) , Young placed another screen, in which he had cut two vertical slits which could be indi vidually cove red . When Iight shone through ei ther of the si its s ingly . it spread out - diffracted - on the wall.

Howeve r. when the Iight shone simultaneously through both slits, something radically different took place : the light struck the wall in a pattern of bands of alternating li ght and darkness . Explai ning thi s as interference , a commonpl ace of wave mechani cs, dec ided the issue , it seemed : light was a wave . Einstein had other ideas . For him , light was

made up of particles or photons, an idea for which the re was also convincing experimental proof. This evidence, however, did not di sprove the conclusions of Young' s theory . Quantum mechanics was obliged to rethink the universe in order to attempt to account for this apparently contradictory duality, seeking new patterns that transcended the classic requirements of causality. Webb , too, is searching for a new and unifying pattern by running Young' s experiment anew . His regulating periscope , with its binocular aperture, reconstructs the 1803 device but adds an Einsteinian modification . The dot screen superimposed anterior is a filter for photons. While the experiment is ongoing and results not yet conclusive , there is no question that Webb is pl ay ing with the full deck. Quantum mechanics has changed the space of architecture and Webb is a pioneer of its exploration.

7. ST PAUL 'S AND THE SPITFIRE Certain persistent originating images emerge over and over. St Paul' s (not St Peter's), the Spitfire (not the Hurricane), the London Bus (the o ld RT type , not its boxy successor). To be sure , these are objects united in the ir Englishness, but that 's not so central.

More crucial is the studied perfection of their compound curvature. Webb recall s a very earl y fascination with Wren 's resolution of the intersection of vaults, the way in which the almost weird reconcil ing shapes de form attempts at penetration. Webb 's inc ision in the Henley te mple dome is a re lated act. a simple auguring which sets an incredible sequence of events in motion , which opens up transformations of matte r , space and light. Those fascinating Briti sh machines address paradigms of perfection as well as the idea of motion and the delights of a cowl ed mechanism . But clearly it' s the curves which attract. Webb restores to architecture a difficulty of surface , producing an ineffabi lity of light.

8 . ALICE AFORETHOUGHT Webb's trip alludes to another Thames journey , take n by Lewis Carroll and the Reverend Robinson Duckworth in the company of the three Liddell sisters on 4 Jul y 1862 : 'as memorable a day in the hi story of literature as it is in American history ', by the lights of W . H . Auden . While the recoll ective lines ' All in a golden afternoon I Full lei surely we glide ' preface the ensuing book, Alicc' , own jour""IHI'sI~

•

••

•

(LI

-

060/P2

09

-

••

.f

-

o

•

o

'0

4

,-;t: -

-

., •

-.. ... -

•

" , o

( --

-_

•

-~

o.

.-

0

o o

..,.-

~-

- , --

o

-,

o

I

•

, ., o

--

...

-

~ o

-.

-

0

o

-

o

-

i

01 0/8

-

•

o

•

,

r

-

•

0-

o.

-- -

-.

•

•

---

o

,

•

TOP LEFT:

Map ofHellley Royal Regalia course, obsen .ed

through ;mermillenl cloud cover.

Photograph a/the regaffQ course, with the camera 01 rli e FINISH , looking towards Temple Island. 77,e pho lO has been tampered with so as 10 show o nly what all obse rver in/he sky lVould see.

TOP RI G HT :

LEFT :

Detail ofthe real temple on Templelsland.

RIG HT :

Early perspeCTive ofth e rega tta course, looking

fro m thefillish towards Templelsland. The image ofth e rea! lemple is conveyed by olle dOl, located Of the "Qfl;siJing

rOml ,

,,

J

•

I

70

AA I-Ill:..';; 1~

•

•

•

g

.0

10

00

90

".

•

•

o

-

-

I

• •

•

•

, ...

"\,;

•

.

•

2 0

• •

2

,

~

~

~"

..

i

.,.. .. ~ § I

-

•

2

~

n

11 O/P

•

71

ney begins with her fall down the rabbit-hole.

Descending, she snatches ajar of orange marmalade from a pass ing shelf but hesitates to drop it 'for fear of killing someone underneath' . Martin Gardner points out that Carroll certainly knew that in free fall Alice wouldn ' t have been able to 'drop' the jar, which would have remained suspended in front of her . He further notes Carroll's kindred description, in the novel Sylvie and BrwlO, of the difficulty of taking tea inside a falling house. These problematic descents evoke Einstein' s famou s 'thought experiment' , in which an imaginary falling elevator is used to exp!ain part of the Theory of Relativity. The moving bodies in Webb' s wonderland are likewise constituents of a thought experiment. With them Webb invents a motile landscape, at first unfathomable, but finally minutely responsive to the demands of his gaze. A memorable voyage through mind 's architecture.

9. LORENTZ Webb has spoken of his fasci nation with a curved plot of the Lorentz TransfOJ mat ions, a parabola which he detects to be similar to a curve he himself achieved by plotting measured subdivisions in perspective against 'true' dimensions in the picture plane, the space of representation on one axis, that of the represented on another. Hendrik Lorentz produced one of the steps immediate ly preceding the Special Theory of Relati vity. His mathematics taken up virtuall y whole by Einstein - desc ri bes a way in which what an obse rver in one frame of ref-

72

erence sees can be translated into what an observer in another frame sees. These equations are called the Lorentz Transformation s and they provided Einstei n with a means of explaining the paradox presented to classical mechanics by the idea that the speed of light remains constant for all observers, regardless of their own motion . The solution is the nub of modernism in physics: the idea that a single phenomenon differs under different observation, that, in effect, an observer cannot observe without changing what is seen. That sub drifting downstream is Webb' s monument to relativity 's presence in architecture.

10. RESURGAM What else should a submersible do but 'rise again '?

Tithe to the first sub , sure, historical gesture, origin.

But, derived conoid shape notwithstanding, the sub' s a shark , cruising under the regatta , threatening - but what? The complacent regulation of upper-cru st sport? The tidy and accurate recollection of childhood 's afternoons? Or, perhaps, the race 's complacent homage to Newtonian motion , the easy Galilean mechanics of another infancy . The danger , clearly , is real. The repressed inevitably returns.

11 . DISC TO ELLIPSE The Special Theory of Relativity proposes that a moving object appears to contract in the direction of motion as its velocity increases. This is a phenomenon suggested by the famou s Michelson-Morley experiment and elucidated in the Lorentz Transformations. A physicist called James Terrell has proposed an optical explanation of these relativistic contractions. Imagine an observer looking at a sphere from a very great distance. The lines connecting the observer' s eyes to a sphere in a plan view wi ll fi nd two points on the sphere that approximate its diameter. Now imagine an elevational view of the sphere from the observer's vantage point and imagine that the two observed points on the perimeter of the sphere are connected by two vertical lines to a sc reen beneath it. Suppose that the sphere is moving very fa st, relati ve to the speed of light, from right to left. If it is mov ing fast enough , the light from the point on the far left edge is blocked by the movement of the sphere in front of it. At the same time , the ' phere moves out from in front of signal s that used to be on the back side of the ball , leav ing them visible to the observe r. An illusion of rotation is created. At the ' ame time. the two points projected on the screen h( ncath the sphere have moved closer together. Thi s i, a representati on of the contraction due to motion ,k,cr ibed in the Lorentz Transformations. What has happcncd i, that the mov ing sphere, by getting in the way of sol11c of its Own signals and out of the way of oth er> . appear, to rotate. This, in turn. cau ses the projec ted distance betwcen any two points on the ' ph cre which are ali gned with the dircction of Illotion to decrease. The fa ster the motion of the ' phcre. the greater the apparent rotation and the c1o'er together the two points projected on the ,c reen. The components and mec hani cs of this exampl e arc not dissimilar to those Webb depl oys in h" ex periment. In both instances, there's a change III the character of a projected image gove rned by a

shift in the relationship of object and observer. And , in both instances, the relevant geometry is spherical.

The elongation of a sphere is an ellipsoid . Mutatis mutandis.

12 . PYTHAGORAS Pressed on the question of early influences, Webb brings up his schoolboy introduction to Pythagoras .

The theorem was an opening for Webb into a world of order and logic , into the careful argumentation of mathematics. The relationship between space and time propounded by Einstein is similar to the relationship between the sides of a right-angled triangle in the Pythagorean theorem . By substituting 'space ' for one of the legs, 'time' for the other, and 'space-time interval' for the hypotenuse, a relationship is produced which is conceptually similar to the relationships described in the special theory of relativity . Relativity makes physics geometrical.

Webb' s research ::xplores the same territory but in reverse. His representations seek to make geometry physical , to give it time , to unearth its latent relativity and to pull architecture through every transformation that his experiment entails.

13 . WHITE SHADOWS How to explain the white shadows which streaK Webb 's idyllic landscape? Are Webb' s trees spectral quasars assembling light? If white light is shone through hydrogen gas and then through a prism, the familiar deployment of colours from red to violet results , but with a crucial addition: over one hundred black lines corresponding to the specific energy amounts required to cause hydrogen electrons to jump from one energy shell to another. The shadows aren't merely graphic , they ' re emiss ions.

14 . JOHN HENRY In popular American legend , John Henry was the railway man who challenged the new steam hammer to a spike-driving competition and bested it. Webb has executed these drawings over the space of many years, laboriously , by hand . There' s a poignancy to his exquisite work that springs from the tenacity with which it refuses to give up its craft . That Webb 's curves are constructed not by computer programs and high-speed plotters but by means of the traditional instruments of drawing both redeems them as art and - by asserting art 's willingness to know sc ience - gives architecture new life. As the Theory of Relati vity restores the centrality of the human observer , so Webb' s profound journey brings architecture home.

Michael Sorki/l

This article was first published in the catalogue of the ex hibition, ' Mega V' : Temple Isla/ld: A slIId"b" Mike Webb . Additional texts by Lebbeus Woods a~d 'Mike Webb. 272 x 343 mm .. 56 pp .. 40 ills . (including 10 10 colour). P r i ceÂŁ~ 7 . 00 . tSBN 0-904503 -85.2

AA MEMBERS' ROOM 4-2 6 JUNE 1987

H. S. Goodhart-RendeI1887-1959

Goodhart- Rendel in his hame ar 13 Crauford Screet , London. 0 11 becoming Presidelll oJthe RlBA in 1936.

As a schoolboy I came across an article by H . S. Goodhart-Rendel in a wartime issue of the Architectural RevielV. It concerned four nineteenth-century churches which had been badly damaged by bombs.

(From Al an Powers's splendid catalogue to the centenary exhibition I learn that the article was titled Four Gothic Revival Casualties, and appeared in 1942. ) I can remember being riveted by the description of these churches, with the implication that , however unfashionable, they were masterpieces of the then neglected nineteenth century. This awoke a sense of enquiry in me. Who was Goodhart-Rendel , and what did he stand for?

Later, as a student at the AA in the mid-fifties, I read as much of Clark, Summerson and Hitchcock as I could lay my hands on. They all referred to Goodhart-Rendel , but my questions remained unanswered . I had seen Augustus John' s portrait , which depicted him as an impossible Edwardian grandee with the elongated elegance of an El Greco saint. I knew he had been President of the Architectural Assoc iation , and Director of Education there in the thirties. From John Dennys I learnt that he had also written a manual on military drill . Then I came ac ross a remai ndered copy of English Architecture since the Regency languishing in the Charing Cross Road at the price of 12/-: this was the Slade lectures he gave in Oxford in 1934, though not publi shed until 1953 . He re , it seemed to me , was a totally different hi story, a history of the recent past, written by an architect with exceptional wit and pe rception.

History gives meaning to the modern : without knowledge of the past, the new is unrecognizable.

For the architect, history is like a c rucible in which form s and detail s are tested and refo rmed . Architects must respo nd to new pressures and new ideas by using new form s. The onl y way of knowing if these form s wi ll work in combination with one another, and in a partic ular time and place , is to veri fy the m against the past. Hi story al so prov ides an inAA HLES 15

dependence of mind which enables one to distinguish the transitory from the permanent. Above all , it teaches us that architecture is primarily a visua l matter and must seek its correspondence within the art and disc ipline of architecture. There can be few more poignant reminders of this than the clash in 1938 between Goodhart-Rendel and AA students led by Anthony Cox . The beautiful drawings di splayed on the walls of the AA Members' Room , and the testimony of Goodhart-Rendel' s buildings, must surely be sufficient proof that architecture has to be about aesthetic experience, and not, as these students maintained , a miserable branch of bureaucracy or sociology.

Certainly both his buildings and his writings have much to teach us, now that architects are once again concerned with detail and decoration . Ironically , however, we learn from Goodhart-Rendel that, although decoration is an important constituent of our visual experience of architecture , a building 's real wo rth resides in those constants of fOlln and proportion . His somewhat dismissive categorizations, such as ' terracotta bric-i\-brac' or ' tasteful decadence', suggest that he would' be as sceptical of many recent developments in architectural fashion as he was of the Modern Movement. In the midfifties, when Brutalism was at its zenith, some architects turned to vernacular fOllllS and materials in an effort to resuscitate the ailing Modern Movement , while others of us, influenced by Goodhart-Rendel , sought indigenous answers. Indeed , it is not difficult to see the parallel between the end of the Regency and the decline of heroic modernism: the Gothic Rev ival was the antidote to ailing Georgian . If Goodhart' Rendel 's preference was for the early Victorian Goths , it was because he recognized their vigour, and an originality which did not partake of the Beaux-Arts tradition .

His tastes were catholic, and this is what makes his writings so instructive and so amusing . He recognized that there are internal as well as external pressures on the architect, which result in changes in style , that change is not only necessary but desirable . Yet he deprecated architects who confused the two issues, who defended their aesthetic preferences in the name of functional necess ity . With great wit he wrote off functionalism as a ' close architectural analogue of puritanism , with its insistence on moral values; its distaste for the aesthetic values; its selfrighteous slow-wittedness; and its abhorrence of gaiety . Like puritanism, it offered the consolation of assured virtue. ' He welcomed the new opportunities made possible by developments in engineering , and stated that an architect who ignored the aesthetic implications of these developments probably condemned himself to death . Neve rtheless, he was quite clear about the distinction between engineering and archi tecture : the separation is not between men, but between fun ctions - e ngineering is construction, architecture is aesthetic choice . This clarity of thinking allowed him to welcome , say , the utility and utility transcended of the glass office-block of the Daily Express building , the structural common sense of Heal' s, or the po lished urbanity of Curtis Green 's Stratton House, Piccadilly . [ am sure Goodhart-Rendel saw himself as a mod-

ernist who had gone beyond modernism ; indeed it might even be possible to regard him as the first post-moderni st. Starting at St Mary the Virgin , Bourne Street, in 1925 and continuing into the fifties at Holy Trinity, Bermondsey, and especially at Our Lady of the Rosary, Old Marylebone Road, we see him developing spare, geometric, classically derived detail s shown in section , as we might fmd in the work of Stirling or Venturi - and arrived at for much the same reasons . The polychrome brickwork and patterning, which gives scale to the fOIlIlS , was obviously a reference to 'rogues' such as Toulon and Keeling , but today it is very much part of the post-modern repertoire , as are those interlocking arches which have their antecedents in architects such as J . F . Bentley and Beresford Pite. Yet Goodhart-Rendel fervently rejected the Picturesque, with its built-in responses .

Some thirty years later , what can one make of his buildings? Working for the Catholic Church in the post-war years (when his most interesting work was built), in the face of a burgeoning Welfare State, it is not surprising that at the time his buildings were little noticed . Yet they have stood the test of time .

Going round them one feel s all the excitement of a mind able to create delights both fresh and familiar.

Perhaps, compared to the buildings of his Victorian and Edwardian mentors, those of Goodhart-Rendel seem a little too well mannered ; one may sense a slight holding-back , maybe due to a psychological flaw, revealed in phrases such as (used to describe a building) having 'no positive vices and many negative virtues' . But subtlety , which he certainly displayed is rarely encountered , difficult to recognize , and frequently dismissed. When we look back at his buildings, especially those of the early post-war years, I believe that they will be among the few of that period which have stood the test of time, and which will be worth visiting fifty years hence .

John Melvin

•

•

• •

\,

...... ,

Hay 's Wh{//! Head Offices. Tooley Streer. London.

1930-32.

73

,-

,.

•

,

~~~;

,

J •

•

.•

,• '.

)

,

'" ..... ,",. .-

I

•

.. , .3 ,

't ~

r •

-

4

•

--

•

•

I

-- --

...-

-

00

.

l I

Cl

o o

o o o

000

m

.~--~

-i

'

I,

-

-. \ 'k .~

~.

I

.1

I

...

:~I~I. . ~~

_-- -M_~

'tf .;:,

·

M.

-

_M._~

- iZ --;r

-,q

:

~

,

ODD 00

••

Cl

:J '--f; . ,

• •

•

', !t4 ~' il ., "!J .

w

fI/ If($t!J/'I!& 171.t'14 , !

tr n -.-,r-

I ~ LJL.Jc..JLJ II.

-

•

I

1

,

.. ,.

,

I

I ..

•

I

-,>

I

\

. t" •,

, I

"

'1~

I

Il'

, II

l'l~

I

-

I

. -

,......

-• ..• -,•• ..•. ." .... -

-::.

•

•

Hay's Wharf Head Offices. Tooley Street. Londol! , 1930-32: Prelimilwrysludies.

DI I..IltTOL ' L OP ~ 00 . . .

• j

.. :...-----l~

• t

•

- . . 11." 'I ' 't I"""~=~:

~.,

j

, 1

,

....

. .~.

.. , I .'

,

I

, l

~

,,,

,

...I

•

.. . . ~

..

I

•

•

I

-

..

•

n•

• •

•

.

. ;..-.- .':-. ., . -

..

,

1 00 .

l OO ..

•

•,

I . ..

J .. .. ...

•• , :If( ••••

I

,

,. "! . .. " ...

•

'.

,

-

•

.....

.....

•

:.-.E~_ -=---=- '-----=~~~~~T~~~.. =~T~:::::!:= .-.

- -' _ _ .L

''' ' '

-

• •••• .!.!.... ~

..

..,

,

....

• •• • •

M 4 Y

Hay 's Wharf Head Offices: River nwmes elevation 01/(/ !j(!colld-jloor plal/.

74

, ..... .

OFFI(;lS

H. S. Goodhart-Rendet . / 887- /959 Ex hibition catalogue edited by Alan Powers.

Int rod uction by Sir John Suml11erson. Essays by Alan Powers . D. A. Reid . lncludescatalogueofworksand bibliography . 178 x 178 111111 .. 64 pp .. 82 ills .

Price £9 .50 . ISBN 0-904503 -90-9 .

,

â&#x20AC;˘

,

\

,

~

--

....-....--

I

~I ,

I/rn \ U /im/ lluu/ (1111( (\

(01/111/111/ fflnlll,

-

(",r(lf/( (' holl . (lIId h"ordulolI/

75

AA EXHIBITION GAI.l.ERY 4-26JUNE 1987

EVA JIRlCNA Designs

EVA JIRJCNA IN CONVERSATION WITH AL VIN BOY ARSKY

AB Perhaps we can begin by talking a little about Czechoslovakia in the late 1950s and 1960s. before you came to London . I gather that your father was an architect.

El That's correct , but if we're going to talk about the 1950s and 1960s we have to go further back .

There was a period before the war when Czechoslovakia was one of the leading countries architecturally. Then. with the introduction of Socialist Realism in the earl y 1950s, some architects with a heroic past from the 1930s joined the Communist Party. They complied by taking instructions. Those who did not join the Party were very bitter about their friends who did a 180-degree turn and c reated

Villa or l evany. 1933 - V/adimir Gregr

things which had no relevance to the modern period .

That's why I have developed such negative feelings towards post-modernism.

AB Some of those people were teaching at the school that you went to?

El Well , I started to read architecture in 1956 .

When I was interviewed there were three of my father's colleagues sitting at the table , all of whom had qualified at the same time . One of them was the designer of Stalin's monument , which still dominated Prague in the 1950s - a monstrous sculpture made of concrete, on the top of a hill . Fortunately it disappeared in the mid-1970s. It was a very peculiar situation for me as my father never joined the Party .

Sw/in monumenr . Prague . 1955 - 1. Srllrsa

76

He lost his job and had to work as a miner for a short period of time. The professor I spent six years working with , the designer of Stalin's monument , was a reasonably nice person, but it took me a long time to forgive him . Why did he conform? Some people believed that whatever was happening in Russia must be good and so they almost automatically followed .

Another explanation is that at the age of forty or so one had to make a choice - either to lose everything or to have a comfortable life and to move forward .

AB As a student did you have access to information available in London, for example?

El Absolutely not. Given that Socialist Realism was the official style , then everything else was strictly forbidden . Perhaps I exaggerate a little , but it was certainly inaccessible. The only way of finding out what was current elsewhere or what had taken place before the war was through friends . I was extremely lucky because my father had an extensive library which he made available to me and to my friends. It was almost impossible to find anything of interest in the architectural school library and there were no photocopiers. Sometimes, if you were lucky , people who were allowed to travel would bring you something back .

AB But what about the time - it's almost a myth now - when things looked prosperous and happy .

There seemed to be greater openness during the mid-1960s. before 1968.

El The situation changed. When I finished reading architecture and town planning I went to the Academy of Fine Arts . The best professor I ever had turned out to be one of those who went with the wind - his current work was definitely not in keeping with his previous beliefs. However , he was an absolutely magnificent teacher. He made people think and gave them a suffic ient amount of freedom to develop in the way they wanted to . which was quite different from my previous college experience.

During the 1960s the situation started to change dramatically , perhaps owing to the fact that people were allowed to travel a bit more. Also, architects were no longer so ashamed of their past activities.

People were allowed to speak more freely. I remember, for example , that Dalibor Vesely gave some lectures on Constructivism which were attended by practically all of Prague 's intelligensia . He also spoke about Brutalist architecture .

AB Thus expressing his growing interest in England . I remember meeting him at the AA bar in 1964/65.

El It was like unveiling the truth .

AB When you graduated did you work in Prague?

El Just before graduation I was asked to join the Com munist Party. It had never crossed my mind th at a well-known heretic like my self would be invited . After graduation yo u are given a job by the governme nt. Most are quite boring. Out of sixty or seventy the re might be six or seven reasonably good ones . which were always reserved for Party members. People with political 'sins' got jobs in pre-cast concrete factories somewhere on the Czech/Polish border . I was given one in a mining district. The managing director looked at me and said. ' What am I going to do with a woman?' Soon after that I was taken ill and it became impossible for me to travel the two and a half hours to and from the job. I was n' t

allowed to share the accommodation with the men so I had to leave Prague every morning at 5 o'clock to be there by 7 .30 , and return every evening. My doctor didn ' t think thi s was acceptable and gave me a certificate. Months later I was offered a teaching job. It sounded exciting. A new unive rsity for foreign students from unde rdeveloped countries was opening. The professor in charge was a Party member without qualifications. He didn ' t have a clue. He simply assumed that I could teach everything - history of architecture, design , aesthetics, maths. descriptive geometry , you name it. It was like a primary school. Howeve r, I did have a certain amount of freedom - for example, I was able to attend the Academy of Fine Arts post-graduate course. It would have been difficult , if not impossible, to go back to school otherwise . I also had access to their library and was able to learn a little French and English.

AB What kind of architecture did your father do?

El His teachers were Corb enthusiasts and Bauhaus people. He never really had a chance to design a building because he qualified in 1936, went into the army for two years, and got married just as the war started in 1939. During the war he worked on the redevelopment plan for the new town of Zlfn. The Communists took over almost immediately after the war , so he then worked within a government department. He eventually developed his career as an exhibition designer - he used to build pavilions at fairs - in China, Brussels in 1958 and Osaka in 1970. He spent four or five months a year abroad , often bringing back interesting books and magazines .

AB How did you become acquainted with the English scene?

El It was pure coincidence that I ended up in London . I spent two years teaching , between 1962 and 1964, before I was allowed to change my job. I found one with an organization similar to the Council for Industrial Design in London. There I became involved in the development of building types. For example , we would do a study of offices which would include the design of a typical office building as well as all the programmes associated with the interiors, the furniture and the environmental constraints. One of the advantages of a large government organization is that there are so many experts available - psychologists. doctors, lighting engineers, etc.

AB So the object was to prepare research documents and standards for other departments?

El Yes . Working there was very he lpful. I had the use of a library and I was allowed to travel a bit. I helped to prepare a British exhibition in Prague in 1965 . About twenty British designers came to give lectures and I had the chance to talk to them. Later that year I was sent to London with a Czech show which took place in the Design Centre . I spent four weeks supervising it and talking to the visitors . In this way I became more familiar with the British design scene. I remember sitting next to Reyner Banham at a dinner party . I went to one of his lectures at the Bartlett and I remember meeting Monica Pidgeon and Michael Tree .

AB How did you eventua lly get to London') El There was a Congress of Architects in Prague in 1967, and Jack Whittle , who was Deputy Architect AA FILES 15

~.

- ' ...... rot

•

•

L .. .....

I

I'

*.

L ,

~

,

,.

,

.(:

.,.

•

•

(

I

•

I

•

~ I

f

,

I

• 2 ..

•

- t

•

"~ -'

•

•

•

•

•

•

• ,,,

,

,,

, ,

'

JOS£PH POUR LA VILW. 1986 268 Brompfon Roatl , London SW3

77

,

• •

••

•

••

·

•

, •

• • •

,, •

,•

,

, ,•

•

•

I

,I

,,

• • • • •

,

•

BOllmemolllh '5leps 'projecl, 1970- 1 - Archigram

at the GLC, attended. I was asked to show him around . He wanted to see some buildings which were not on the official programme, I don't know how it arose, but he suggested that I come over to London for six months and work for the GLC . I took the opportunity and applied for an exit visa . It took exactly a year. I came over on I August 1968 and the invasion took place three weeks later.

AB And you haven 't been back since?

El No. In my absence I was sentenced to three years 10 pnson.

AB What for?

El I don' t really know. I've never been told. My mother got a letter which infolllled her that I'd been sentenced, but no reason was given.

AB So you encountered the 'Swinging London' scene at its peak - fashion , design , architecture, publishing , music, AD and all that.

El It was extremely exciting and I still find it so after nearly twenty years. I particularly remember discovering places like the King's Road , Biba's, Camaby Street, Monica Pidgeon 's club at AD , etc , - all unknown to someone from Czechoslovakia, And the freedom people had - they could dress up , or down . And then there was Archigram. Their publications were so similar to those of the Russian Constructivist movement. It reminded me of my father 's description of the heroic past in the 1930s and of reading Corb and other avant-garde books in his library . My father worked hard all his life but was not able to achieve anything apart from some national pavilions. He made me realize that I must stick to my principles whatever the circumstances.

Unless one can develop at least one new idea in a problem it 's not worth messing with ; it's one 's duty and responsibi lity to society to look forward, not back .

AB The people who attracted you in London in 1968 were fighting a simi lar battle. There was great boredom in England at the time . The local authorities were building enormous pre-cast concrete housing projects or , conversely, twee new towns.

People were looking at what the Japanese , Buckminster Fuller and some painters were doing , and trying to introduce new ideas. Apart from the AA and a handful of people, London was a fairly dull place. What interested you was the counter-attack , [ was looking at some of your early competitions, which are full of the graphics and imagery of the London scene, and Archigram' s in particular.

El I will tell you a sec ret. We did a competition •

78

•

with Jan Kaplicky for the Burrell Collection in 1969, and we had the drawings of Peter Cook' s Monaco competition pinned on the wall while we were drawing it up . I remember almost copying some of the ideas because I so admired them, AB The whole world was excited, It was a very creative time for everyone , £) [ must also admit that I have always had enormous respect for technical achievement. I wanted to read chemistry when I was fourteen or fifteen; I wanted to do experiments. I'm still amazed when I see my dentist's new chair or when a filling hardens by the effect of light. When my father was about fourteen he made the first radio in the little town where he was living. He had two major hobbies one was painting and the other was electronics. His approach to architecture was somewhere in between. He had the facility to draw beautifully and his talent was remarkable. My mother sent me a few drawings after he died, but I didn't appreciate them then, I mean , you look at a drawing and think it 's nicely done , but you don 't really appreciate it until you have gone through a certain struggle yourself. I was hopeless when I entered college. I was really bad at drawing , Looking back, however, I think it was not so much a lack of skill as wanting things to happen quickly. I've never had the patience to spend three hours over details, but I had all the patience necessary to construct a perspective drawing. I could spend all night or even three or four days setting it up . Anything to do with mathematics or the technical side , I found easy.

AB And you found the collage techniques of London easy, too , from what I have observed.

El I used graphics which were easily accessible and which would produce the image I wanted. You can create atmosphere by cutting out images; you can also play with the Xerox machine.

AB The GLC job lasted for how long? £) Only a year. It was a complete shock. I started in the schools' division. No one there was at all interested in newcomers. Later I understood. Personnel tended to change rapidly - students, often foreign with practically no English, came and went , as did people in other divisions. It took about a week to settle in , My group leader turned out to be a nice man , but definitely not much interested in what was gOing on , AB They have a history of fine buildings. £) There were a few people who knew what they were up to, but the rest were just passing through . I had worked so hard all my life in the belief that education was the most important thing you could get, and suddenly I came to the GLC , where nobody seemed to care. Towards the end of my time there, I decided that I didn't want to waste yet another year so [ went straight out and bought a copy of AJ and applied to all the advertisements - about twenty from which I got twelve interviews . After the GLC it was quite a shock to see other architects' offices.

Some of them, although purely commercial, were trying to do interesting things. At the Louis de Soissons Partnership [ was interviewed by David Hodges in the library of a magnificent Nash building in Park Square. He was extremely pleasant and offered me a job on the spot. [ was particularly attracted by the offer of work on a design for a new Brighton marina •

- a city in the middle of the sea , The first day there, I went to the drawing office, which surprised me people stood up behind their drawi ng-boards when the partners walked in , There were no arguments or discussions , no philosophy, AB But a lot of interesting people eventually worked on the marina project at the same time as you . £) That was later on, [ think I was the first person, together with a Poli sh architect. Next came Nathan

Brighton Marina, 1969-78 - Louis de 50issolls Parlllership

Silver, and when he left I repl aced him as job architect. We applied for and received pl anning approval between 1970 and 1973, and immediately after the scheme was called for public enquiry I bumped into Peter Cook at an Art Net opening and he asked me if I had jobs for two of his students. That was how John Robinson and Christine Hawley came to Louis de Soissons to help on Brighton, Peter Cook did a couple of perspectives for a special presentation .

Then Jan Kaplicky, Julyan Wickham and David Nixon came from Foster's, and Keith Priest, Martin Richardson, Philip Moloney and quite a number of Americans participated.

AB How far did it get in the end? £) We didn 't get too far in terms of buildings but we did a tremendous amount of research with Ove Arup & Partners on the engineering side as well as all the master planning. The project included land reclamation for the central spine, the breakwaters, the boatyard building, the services, the viaduct, landscaping , and a few temporary buildings . Coordinating the entire team of people from different fields, all struggling to fi nalize the programme, was an exhilarating experience , AB You left Louis de Soissons when things came to a halt on the project? £) [didn ' t leave immed iately. The Queen opened the marina in 1978 and . although the project was not entirely fini shed, David Hodges. the partner in charge, felt that the Brighton Marina Company was moving away from the initial agreement and that it was his professional duty to resign as architect.

After Louis de Soissons's office had lost its most profitable project there wasn't really enough work for us, Eventually. two years later, they dec ided to abandon the London practice and move to Welwyn Ga rden City. making us all redundant. During the last year I had started doing competitions. some for the firm and some on my own - Newcastle riverside, Les Halles, Melbourne. Battersea Park .

Trafalgar Square. etc , The last one I did was for AA FILES 15

,

· , ..•

.. .. , ,, " .: . · ... '" · -.,'" -.. ",'" ,. ,. . . .'".. . .... ·" ". • • • •••••• '" ... ..

• ••• ·.. · , • ••• •• • • ,-.. , ,",, • •• ••• .. ...,.'..·--..-....• . •• ••••••• • •• • • ••• • •• • • • • ••• .." ., ·........... " •, .

•••• .. ••• " ." • '" ~

, ,

. .. .

~

~.

, • • • •

'

'

-

....

•

,

·• '•

,

•

..• . ....., ..

••••

,

•

....• •

• •

,

• •

.. .

•

..,

•

•

..

•

•

'"

•

•

•

• ••• · ," ., •••• " ",

• •

• ••••• .. , .. ·.... .. ", _ .. ---- . ... '" ", •• · •. , .. • ••••• " • , .. -. -... • •••• ·• .• ' . . _. , _..... '" • •• • .. -- ----- ..... .

••• • " . __ o

__

•

••••

. '._.... __ ......... · .........

•

•

" "

• ..0__.... -_.--__•........ .... ... ." .. .. ... ....... ... ...

•

. . . . . 00

-

•

•• ••••• •

.......- .. .......... .. ... . . . "' _ _ 0

. . . . . . . . . . ..

•

LEGENDS, 1986

Old Burlington Street , London S WI

79

- -

r •

,

,,

I

•

,

Westminster Pier competition , / 979-80 - Eva Ji,icna with David Hodges

Westminster Pier , with Ove Arup & Pallners, Louis du Vivier and Taylor Woodrow Contractors.

(Previously we had all pallicipated in the Brighton marina project. ) It was a disaster. After two full submissions and lots of meetings we eventually got a letter from the GLC saying we had won. I still have it. The very next day we had a telephone call saying that there would be no public announcement. In due course the GLC appointed a project manager. About twenty people worked on it for months , together with the GLC and other public bodies. It was all wasted in the end , as the GLC never had the right to build on that pallicular site in the first place.

AB How did you sUppOIl yourself during that period?

El I didn 't. Initially the project was financed by the Louis de Soissons Pallnership. Afterwards, when things got tricky , David Hodges told me that he was going to retire from Louis de So is sons and suggested that we stall a partnership to do Westminster Pier; the idea was that he would help to stall me off and then slowly move back to his house in the country. It was extremely kind of him . We were expecting some income from the Westminster Pier project , but alas it didn't happen. So I stalled to look for work.

And then came Joseph . At the opening of his first shop , which was designed by NOlman Foster, I met his wife . I told her that I was an architect. She sa id , 'That might be interesting, we ' re looking for an architect to do something about our flat. ' I looked at the problem , which involved mov ing a pallition between two bedrooms to make two rooms of similar size. I al so designed some furniture . His wife, who is a dear friend , didn't like what I had done , but their son loved it and Joseph liked it too. I felt terribl e because Coco disliked my relati vely modern furni ture and felt totally lost. Then , one day Joseph asked me if I would do a shop for him in South Molton Street , in practically no time and with little money and could I do it exactly the same as Norman Foste r had done in Sloane Street. That was the brief.

AB So the great Joseph came into your life through his wife's encounte r with a yo ung woma n at an opening?

El Yes . We were about the same age and she prob-

80

ably felt comfortable with me .

AB Over the years Joseph has picked a lot of creative people to work with . He perceives their potential and c reates the situation to excel - Katharine Hamnett , for example. £] I think he deserves a great deal of credit. For example, he was the first person in London to commission someone like Norman Foster to do a shop for him . He initially had a small one on the King's Road but then had the courage to acquire a prime position in Knightsbridge. At breakfast, after swimming , he would ask friends , 'Who is the best architect in London? I want my shop to be designed by the best architect in London.' Somebody suggested Norman Foster, who turned him down at first.

Frank Peacock in Norman' s office ran the job .

AB And Jan Kaplicky? £] Yes. That' s why I was invited to the opening.

AB Did you know Jan in Prague? £] I knew him vaguely. Architectural society in Prague is very limited . He went to a different college but his best friend was an architect/ pop singer who was at the centre of all social events and therefore we did meet occasionally. New Year's Eve 1960 was the first time that I remember talking to him .

AB It 's interesting that both you and Jan reacted to the London architectural scene in the same way . For example, in 1970 he came to my first International Institute of Design Summer School , where the European avant-garde gathered . £] He stalled at Richard Rogers' s office and when work there ran out Richard recommended him to Norman . That was in 1971. Jan was with Norman for a couple of years , working on Ipswich. He then spent two years at Louis de Soissons before returning to Foster's.

AB I'd be interested to hear how you and Joseph developed the work you've done together - the flat s, and pallicularly the shops and restaurants which for London represent the epitome of sophisticated 'street' architecture. £] Building a relationship with a client is a long process; there are lots of problems and complications. Joseph stalled from nothing . He worked extremely hard , often twenty-four hours a day . His attitude was very similar to mine . I had no prejudices about designing a shop . I hadn't a clue how to do it , but I was able to concentrate fully on it as I had nothing else to do at the time . To stall with I wasn' t very sure of myself as I hadn't really built much on my own before . Joseph had always wanted to become an architect and he tried to communicate

Joseph shop imerior. 1979 - Foster Associates

through me - I made it poss ible by listening very carefully without inhibiting his seemingly 'crazy' ideas. I had the patience to change everything hundreds of times. He was trying to achieve something which appealed to me. His approach to the way people should dress was different from anybody else's at the time . Relatively expensive clothes lost their snobbishness when Joseph put them together; he made it possible for a customer to buy something like a T-shirt , which could be worn with an evening outfit. His talent is pallly to do with hi s flair for dressing mannequins in shop windows and mixing things together on tables.

AB Does he get involved in the design of the clothes?

El He didn ' t when I first met him but he became interested soon afterwards. We stalled by working out the concept of a shop from first principles . When I first met him he had Katharine Hamnett and other designers each presenting a ' family' of clothes trousers, tops , co-ordinates - so the first shop was fragmented into a background for a group of individual designers. I found it difficult to have unbalanced groups in so small a space. Katharine Hamnett , for example, was very black and white, while Sonia Rykiel was very stripey and colourful.

Then there would be a fairly outrageous collection by a young British designer. When put together it was predictably chaotic . After the first shop we worked together on his new flat - neither of us knew what we wanted and we finally ended up creating something completely extravagant, with purposemade pieces of furniture , special bathrooms and kitchens, etc. Joseph adored All Deco and kept saying he wanted a 1930s flat. But since he is extremely sensitive and suppollive we managed to produce a kind of compromise between my taste and his. I like the real thing but I hate fakes . At first he landed up with all SOilS of non-functioning equipment in the flat - doors that didn't open properly, a bed that didn ' t slide out, flat tyres on the wheels of his furniture . He shouted at me but he did eventually have the patience to get it right ; he even put up with the noisy fridge which made it almost impossible to sleep . It was a tremendously fruitful period . We eventually agreed that the 1930s was not just about All Deco.

Meanwhile , I learned to look at the fashion world in a manner that I had neve r allowed myself to do before, because I hadn ' t really had the time or the money to be pallicularly interested in what I was wearing . Soon after doing the flat , we did the Kenzo shop, in an attempt to move on from the 'little families of clothes ' concept. We agreed o n two long hanging rail s of clothes, which would change with each new collection. People could walk into the shop and almost immediately take it all in . Of course the re were all the usual technical problems - how to do a hang ing rail twelve metres long which looks uninte rrupted, how to light it properly, etc . In order to complement Kenzo 's clothes you have to introduce drama . It became necessary to a lliculate the space into ground -, intermediate- and top-floor levels. The shop also included black cei lings and various ideas taken from stage design . Followi ng the Kenzo experience. Joseph decided to design his own collection. He became completely absorbed, and stalled a range call ed 'Tricot' - all knitted <\A FILts I ~

,

,

•

•

c

,-

-

)

-

0 00 •

•

•

... . . .... .. ,_._

).-

. ,•

I

, . .. . . . . , ,

•

•

•

•

•

•

L

, I·. . . ..•

I I ····· . . .. .. .. ... ,,

••

•

':

•

L

I

1(l1f I'II1ITf()(,1 !flAi l I..

!I, on \

"'(1-1 ~

1'I!l4

1,I"ldo" \J+I

1(\

('

'). , '\

clothes - and then opened a shop in which to display them called Joseph Tricot. This was followed by Pour L l Maison - one of his long-standing dreams - which allowed him to get involved with things other than fas hion. He began to realize that there was something about the equipment of a house when he sa w that all those beautiful girl s from the shops looked much better in his tlat. When he bought his sccond tl at. I unde rstood that he needed much more freedom than I had given him prev iously. For the firs t tlat I had des igned everything , incl uding the tabl e, door-handles and every single shelf; when he bought a vase he had now here to put it. I learned to give him more freedom and I tried to apply the same principle to the shops as well .

AB And then he went into the restaurant business. £] That was another dream of his. When I first met him he was always talking about becoming a restaurateur , and selling furniture in his shops. Before he started Pour La Maison he had a go at Le Caprice, a restaurant next to the Ritz, He had a tremendous amount of enthusiasm and was really looking forwa rd to entertaining people in a splendid 1930s environment. He loved it but he didn't have any experience of running a restaurant. He had no time to find out what was going on or to control it , so he was eventuall y advised to sell. as it was losing too much money. When another opportunity presented itself. he came up with another idea - L ' Express Cafe in the basement of Pour La Maison.

AB L ' Express Cafe is just right. I often felt that it would be nice if there were somewhere in all of London where you could have a good cup of coffee and a Danish in a nice room. It' s poss ible all over the world, but not in London. I don't know where to go to have a sandwich in pleasant surroundings. He hit the nail right on the head, and I think the space works too. £] I remembe r the Danish centre which used to be there before. It was such a miserabl e little basement that I never thought it could turn into anything reasonable . I didn 't have any faith in it at all. Eventually we did a long, long bar, which is what Joseph had always wanted . He hated the thought of single people not being able to come in .

AB He must have a spec ial imag ination. My wife, fo r example, has quite a lot of Joseph 's clothes. She goes to the sales. On one occasion she might buy a long sweate r that comes dow n to the knees, on another a pai r of trouse rs to match, and so on. He has empathy and understands what people want . £] Havi ng sta rted as a hairdresse r, he is able to pull together al l aspects of people's lives - food, clothes, furnitu re, gadgets, everything, really - and , most impo rtant. he 's ab le to present them imagi natively.

AB He'sbound todow hatBi bad id in thc late 1960s - that is, eventually to start a dcpa rt ment store with a sw imming pool and club on the roof. That's what rumed her. £] I don 't think he wou ld be tempted to do it. He keep> say ing to me, and I th ink he's genui ne about it. that he would like to open a ni ghtcl ub.

AB Of cour>e, so people could wear his clot hes there in the eve ning and he could invent a new style of clothing for the occa,ion . £] Socia ll y it',adiffercnt kindofset -up .

AB You have bee n describ ing your role a, a coli ab-

\?

0rator. Yet you brought something into the picture which is very special. An architectural sensibility? £] That' s hard for me to say. My method has always been to listen carefull y and interpret in the best way poss ible , AB Of course, but when you' re dealing with issues Lloyds Headqllarters interiorsJor Richard Roger.,· of style for a particular place and for spec ial prod- Pa rrnership , 1982-5 - JiriclIQ Kerr Associates ucts, something other than function is required. £] Yes, but the atmosphere is function too. You have to create it and make sure it is going to be right where Joseph stopped and I began. Peopl e are ei ther fo r the type of merchandise to be sold there. Func- afraid to hire me because they may get yet another tion is also to do with what material is right as a Joseph shop, or else they ask for it speci fi ca ll y. background for certain types of clothes. The quality People who want Joseph 's image are going to end up disappointed because they won't get it. On the other of the lighting is also a function in this sense , AB I understand all that, but there must be some- hand , it' s very difficult when there is noth ing from thing else. Did you get any leads from what Joseph 's the cl ient' s side to respond to. They may want a shop which fun ctions. Fine , But if they haven't got the designers were doing , for example? style to use it properly they 'lf make a mess of it. £] Not really, the changes are too rapid . It 's necessary, howeve r, to look at what is go ing on in the Harrods is completely di fferent from Joseph 's. fashion world and to take the measure of it , to try to They have milfions of shop ass istants who have to be find the right answer to the right question. Every- trained to display things. It was a hard job getting thing is related . For example, what you eat - people things together for them , because of the large scale. buy food from health-food shops, but there are also AB Is it working?

Wimpy Bars and Wimpy Bar clothes. The same £] I believe the first six months were hard because applies to furniture . Chairs are becoming easier and Way-In was forgotten during the inconvenience of more comfortable to sit on; they might lose a little in alf the building operations. Nobody believed we appearance but they are properly designed to sup- could complete in eight months, but we did . The port your back. I think people are more interested in lighting we had been promised was not available, what I call the function. Clothes designers are the and for about two months after completion we took same; they are trying to make people look good, the bl ame for the fact that people could hardly see in whether they are short , tall , fat or thin . They have the shop. They are now making more than their promade it poss ible for a fat lady to look good and to jected figures. They learned how to use the environhave a choice - long skirt , short skirt , no waist. She ment properly, and acquired a new clientele. People can wrap herself up in fifty different layers so that come to Way-In because it is cheaper than Joseph , her body is really created by the clothes, rather than . and includes other things in the same pl ace . You can the clothes express ing what is underneath . It 's the go there and do your shopping and have a snac k and same for architectural design. You have somehow to a hair-cut all in a couple of hours. As far as the picture the people it is for, in order to provide the Ll oyds experience was concerned , I was really right environment for them. With Joseph it 's differ- excited in 1982, when Richard mentioned it to me, ent because the atmosphere includes not only the because I liked the idea of being part of a team aga in. clothes and the individual des igners but al so every- as with the Brighton marina . It' s an exciting build thing else in life which Joseph is responding to. ing , but it was terribly difficult to work on. Almost When you ask him how he operates, he says he just imposs ible. It was a tremendously important learnfi nds the right people to copy. When I first heard this ing process for me, working with Siemens, Tate I was appalled: he accepts that he is good at copying Floors, Wessex Guild , etc. People wouldn 't do a and he pull s things together from what he has seen special des ign for a Joseph shop, but they would for elsewhere . It took me a long time to understand what Lloyds. I started dealing with people who operated he meant. on a larger scale, which was also important in te rms AB You've done about twenty jobs with Joseph of keeping in touch with new technology . now. However, you have another professional life , AB And different budgets?

You worked with Richard Rogers on the Lloyds £] Yes. That budget allowed for moc k-Ups, which building; you did Way -In for Harrods, together with Joseph 's couldn ' t.

Future Systems, and you are now doing shops in AB Do you feel hungry enough to do a whole buildItaly, Scandinav ia , New York and Boston. You are ing now? deve loping a different clientele. What happens next? £] Yes, If it hadn't been for Way -In we cou ldn 't £] I'm most grateful to have met Joseph at the right have started the office on such a scale . Now we can time and to have had the opportunity to work on so respond to different clients on di fferent levels. God many projects with him. It gave me a sufficiently knows how long one can keep it go ing . long period of time to th ink about what I was doing .

Shop design doesn't usuall y give you the chance to T hi s interview W::IS first published in the catalogu(: oftht.: thin k. ex hibition. 'Mega VI' : El'o JiricI/(1 Designs.

AB I f peopl e were to ask you to do a shop now, they Additional texts by John Thackara and Joseph Ettedgui .

Inlght thmk that they were go ing to get a certain 272 X 343 mm ., 44 pp ., 135 ill s. (25 in cotour) . style, whereas with Joseph , as you desc ribe the proPrice £27 .00. ISBN 0-904503 -84-4. cess, you actuall y developed the shops organicall y. £] That's why I was grateFul to Joseph . We were Photograph p. 77 : Barry Lewis. working so close ly together that it was hard to say Photog raphs pp. 79, 81 : Richard Br),a"' .

.-IA SYMPOSIUM, 8 MAY 1987, AND EXHIBITION IN AA MEMBERS' ROOM AND BAR , d-2J MA 1' 1987

Berlin 750

BERLI N Ber lin is a city about which one can perhaps make onl y a personal statement - especially if, like me, one has li ved there for twenty years before coming to London . Looking at what has been written about the city's hi sto ry, you soon discover that it too depe nds very much on the personal view - as diffe rent as East Berlin and West Berlin . So in a way I ve ry much appreciated a remark Professor lulius Pose ner (a lso an AA -related Berliner) made in his opening address for the offi cial 750th binhday exhibition in Berlin : ' Fo r me , today is the onehundredth binhday of the architect Erich Mendel sohn .路 He added that ' 750 years is a lie , because there was n't much of anything in Berlin before the Renaissance ' .

I would go eve n funher , and stan with Schinkel. who had so much influence on modern architecture .

But really it 's only about seve nty-five yea rs si nce modern architecture started. in the office of Peter Behrens - where Mies van der Rohe worked , where Le Corbusier worked. where Gropius worked .

Thi s. I think. is Berlin. for there is no real Berlin . no rea l Berliners. Berlin has alway s been a fi ction.

People we nt there. worked there and brought influ ences into the cit y. They we re inlluenced there and then we nt back out into the real world to spread thi s

inlluence . This is becau se Berlin has always been o n the border between East and West, between Moscow and Paris. Warsaw and Amsterd am. Konigsberg (Kant ) and Cologne (Marx) . Much of the time during the last seventy- lIve yea rs it has also acted as the phy sical border between East and West: thi s is the logic of its position - geographical. politi ca l and cultural.

If Berlin has a hi story. it is the hi story of new movements and new ideas, which are rev ised for a while and then destroyed. Nothing is rea ll y fini shed in a complex sense . So Berlin is a place in which to make statements, and it has become a museum of these statements. In between the empty spaces is a building by Schinkel. or Mies van der Rohe . or Le Corbu sier. or Gropius .. . nearly all the masters of modern architecture. And thi s see ms to be continuing: Berlin - museum of modern architecture .

AA AA-related architects presented schemes designed for Berlin from the fiftie s onwards in a sy mposium and exhibition to commemo rate Berlin 's 750th birthday. held at the AA in May 1987. Thi s was al so the yea r in which the Berlin BOllollssle!lllllg (lBA) a plan to join the prese nt and future to the city' s past - was realized . Both of these contributions - by

the AA and by Berlin - arc gove rned by vb io ns .

Both the AA and Berlin have opened their doo" to advocates of mode rn architecture. whose ideas have intluenced architecture all ove r the world .

The long assoc iation between the AA and Berlin. which Alvin Boya rsky desc ribed in hi s introdu cto ry speec h. dates back to the Smithsons' remarkabl e competition des igns of the post-war e ra . and it has offered many opportunities to friends of the AA. including Eduardo Paolozz i. l ames Stirling and Leon Krier .

The AA sy mpos ium featured wo rk by Ali son and Peter Smithson : Rem Koo lhaas and Elia Zengheli s of OMA: Peter Cook and Chri stine Hawley: Zaha Hadid : and Pascal Schoning (A rchitekturlabo r) with Peter Rice (Ove Arup and Partners). (Co mpetition entries by Chri s Macdonald and Peter Salter and by Daniel Libeskind unfo rtun ately could not be shown. since the competition had yet to be judged .) Following the presentations there was an AA Members hip Dinner in the AA Library. where the discourse continued . Guest speakers included the young Berlin architects Chri stoph Langhof and Hans Kolhoff and the critic Dr Frit z Neumeye r. The eve ning will be co mmemorated in a fo rth co ming AA pu bli cati on.

AA /Berlill 750.

Pa St'a/ Schall ing

Pl ay ful Planes , hy Zoe Zell~ h eli.\, / 982 - pailllill~ ill.l'l'i red /)1' Ihe OMIt projecl of / 980- 8/ for Ih e / BA Uil~oll'.I'lrafle colI/pelilioll (.I'<'e pp. 90- 9 / ).

1' /\ HU .... 1'\

83

' • •-<

~

.,'

- -. -

•

,

.,,'

"11 1 •

•

,

-

,

•

-

-,

•

\

,

,

."

V/ l' \\ '10/

84

Bcr ltflJrom

'v/Ur/fll

111/ /

filII h ', tk: rllIl . / {J28

...,

". • .

'0:.

•• '

•

-

.:-

h

~

'

__

l 'U'I\'\ ,,/ Ucr{lIl{rfJ lI1L. Wdllllga ', 100 ' lkr l1n . 14"29

\\1111 \1'"

•• •••

••

.,, - • •

•

,,

. '. , ./ •

,

, . 'I

•

•

,

•

, •

•

•

,.

"

,

,

•

.,

•

, •

-

-• •

• •

,

•

,

'"•

.--; Leipzi/ie r Platz Gild Leip~iger StraJ3e , 1928 (A BOVE) alld 1968 (BELOW). from Richard Sclllleid('/"'s Berlin aus der Luft, 1986,

85

L IN I N WIO 18 1 fJO U~'J\G HI (leA :>

M,,"\\

/ dh., HJd,J \\llh lll""n [) (;"Illcr,.dl P I.I'""cIJII1CIll P

(\lU\ln\ ,

~m c ron .

S

[) \\ 111,1""

rill

P

\t.,

I

t- ,,' «. P \ 1 ,I

t

t

fr

'I"

the t d\' I.

Pr"(,mm,,,-,,

m,,, ,

J~ t'

.,/It ,fl /,/\ of' )01 tf rrH,« \ ,m,1 (1'IIrt\{u-d

w,cI ''''alto" df (0\1 t' cUlt! lit

\cUfflfl

"Id" \ru./

,

PETER COOK & CHRlST/NE HA WLEY. BLOCK OF FLATS FOR THE LOJZOWPLA 1Z

The briefuses a typical IBA f ormula , callingjiH standards little differentfrom thos(' II'hich 1I'01llJ hI' expecred in British local-alllhority hOIlSillg indeed, this is 'social housing', built speclllati" el\' but with subsidies, and intendedfor 1I'0rkill g people.

Moreover, the tendency in recellt housing legislation has been more and more tOll'ards 'economic' standards - lolI'er ceiling heights llIlll not too many maisonettes ill a block. Ollr eJjorts have largely been directed towards worming Ollr wav between these constraillts and our ambitioll/{) create jlats which are workable but IIOt boring, alld able to take full advantage ofthe east-west orientation - plus the fact that on the west side is a sizeable public square which will shortly be improved by new planting and lawns.

We are ofcourse aware of the gladiatorialnatllre ofthe set-up: we are sandwiched between Mario Botta on 0111' side and Bangert, Jansen Scholt and Schulze on the other, with Christian de Porzamparc and Daniel Libeskind close behind. Obviousl\' we must 'display' our architecture. The approach of many ofthe architects seems to have been to take the plans from 'the book', and to concentrate 011 doing a clever bit of 'fa<;adism ' so as to remind you that they 've been there. Perhaps our own rather hot west elevation gives that impression too, but infact its origins lie entirely in the planning - particularly the sectional planning ofthej/ats themselves. We have striven for a system that stems from the logic ofsome commonsensical premisses:first , the east-the sunrise and the quiet courtyard condition - being the obvious place for the bedrooms and bathrooms; second, the west -the afternoon and evening sunbeing the obvious placeforthe 'living' or family rooms (especially with the square to look out upon); third, placing the kitchen, wherever possible, in a position where the chores can be done in a bright place with a bit ofa view; alld,fourth, getting, by hook or by crook, as lnany maisonettes as we could, and giving them galleries and places with peeks through or glimpses of views - diagonal space that gives some reliefto the boxiness and tightness of standard housing. We resort to tricks like the little three-step kick-up at the north-west corner ofthe building, which gives five ofthe apartments some chance of release from the 'box '. The barrel f ormation at the top ofthe building also gives welcome reliefin theform ofa studio apartment and a slightly barn-like apartment - which none the less repeat the basic plan ofthe more typicaljlats elsewhere.

The westfar;ade is composed ofa series oflayers and some wayward, wafting lines which curve from time to time yet are regulated by staves of vertical wind-braces. The east far;ade is much more quiet almost rational - but has a deliberate twist at the corner of the mouth, as ifto say 'Yes, I am wellmannered with my rationalist neighbours around this court, but I am a bit naughty too. ' •

•

Arc hitects : Pete r Cook and Christine Hawley, Londo n. Contact Architects : Hinrich and (nken Baile r. Berlin . Assistants in London : Bernhard von Ha mme rste in, Rosemary LaUer.

KUCHE

• •

• •

• • •

~

• ••

• •• • •

: , •

A-H~

-. -,• • • •

Typical plans

r • 1~ s

, • , 9~

,

ABOV E AND OPPOSITE PAGE :

88

...•

I

Conservatory d(~ lails

AA FlL ES I ~

• • •

•

I

I

I

,I I I•

•

,I

,

I •

I • ••

•

•

•

•

•

• • ••

• •

•

OFFICE FOR METROPOLITAN ARCHITECTURE

OMA. London : Elia Zenghelis and Ron Steiner. with Omri Eytan and Batsheva Rone n. and Norman Chang, Andreas Kourkoulas. Ricardo Simonini. and Katerina Tsigaridas.

, I

Liif:,oll'srrafie : D ouble penpeclil'c from /h e sOllth east (abm'c) Qlld fh e nOrlh (be low) ;

alld v;ell' of east slab and pumping sfafiOIl - painlings by Zoe Zell gil elis.

IBA SCHEME FOR CHECKPOINTCHARLIÂŁ , FRIEDRICHSTRAjJÂŁ 2071208, 1984-

The building is located in the centre ofth eforlller Friedrichstadt , the baroque extension to Berlill 's historic core. Today this area is chara cte ri~ed by fragments ofboth pre- and post-\Var buildings , as well as the Wall and Checkpoint Charlie. OMA's strategy was to establish a retroactive cOllcept for the site . based 011 inherent but latent characteristics: rather than merely restore or reinterpret the eighteenth-century block, our solwioll refers to the seemingly heterogeneous nature of the urball environment - a result ofits recent past alld of contempora ry patterns of use. 77,e project combines ajunctional briefand the iconography o!the area into an ensemble wh ich contrasts the memory oflhe FriedrichslrajJe (as paillled by Kircllll er) with lhe realil}' ofthe Wall , and the needfor residelllial accommodation wilh lhal of 'lemporary 'facilities fo r checkpoint S{(lf!. A large plaljorm di vides lhe building illlo MO main parIS. Checkpailll facili lies are confined 10 lhe large lCIrma c concourse and small pa vilions below, al g round level , lI'hile lhe podium above is an elevated piece ofg round supporling lhree layers ofaparlmelllS, each differing in s i~e and lype.

OMA. London : Elia Ze nghe lis. Re m Koolhaas.

Matthias Sauerbruch . with Alex Wall. Dirk Alten .

Structural Engineers : Polony i a nd Fink . Berlin .

90

Chl'ckpoi 1/ , Clw 1"1i e: Penpecr i \'(' (pu; /lIll1 g by Z O (' Zellghel iJ), ,\ i re ,,1011 , mul .'"!lCI hili .

I 'if\\' ofcurl'ed

weSTslah:

, ,

\

\ r

n

.-

.

- -''''...-,.

•• ..'

---_.

-'

-

',", '

-",.

~' --

,

..

1

-r=[,u

\

I \

'I

-

\

.

-.... --....-

'.' ,-

J

.

I.

-

\

-

-

l

')

r

I L J

\

I

\

1

\ J"-

\ \

f

rl'\

,

-

r

"'

\

\1

,

~~J? ~LS \ , -, "r\c,~ ,:l ' --, ,, '/ <"" '

( Ll \

, '.

'<'v< )

-"I

,. -

" "'' " "

'v

"

,

c

,_ ....

_-

,,-" ..... -

,

/

,

..--

.... ,.

91

Al.ISON & PETER SMfIHSON: BERLIN AS THE ISLAND OF OUR MIND

(

,,

- .........- -.....

, I

-

I

•

~-

.'

In our projectsfor Berlin we have worked through several- sofarfour- periods ofdifferent but. at the time. generally accepted attitudes: but always we were working with what we saw as the pertinent architectural/urban potential. .. with evolving an architectural/urban language serving aspirations only just coming into being.

1957: The beliefthat Berlin could be unified: the political competition ofHaupstadt: we concentrated on an urban structuring that accepted the likely increase in traffic.

I

It

Our project for Mehringplatz looked back at Scharoun 's Haupstadt. which did two things: : accept the green-centred ciry : realize the horizontal- east to west structuring potential ofthe Tierganen.

", I

I ,•

•

/)

---- I'

•

)

\\

,'I

II

,- ----4, -- -

......

:: _::-~-~"t-:. . . ~ _.--..

-::.::=', -, .-II

"<.-.....,'

.

• •

1962: Facing up to West Berlin being halfofa ciry: not a neat half but shaped something like a Le Corbusier hand: assuming that this halfshould be structured by traffic handling a yet again increased traffic load.

I

I

-

- --

\ j

\I

I

1957: Haupstadt road network. Sketch by Peter Smithson.

1962: Mehringplatz. Drawing by Peter Smithson.

Our Mehringplatz therefore addressed making the urban structuring - ofan open-textured, raggedshaped half-ciry - work to become adherent.

1975.1976,1977: The studies ofthe 1970s continued to work at making the half-ciry adherent .

In taking different facets ofthe ciry . ..

•

\.i. ,n ~,4

"

~

1975: Facing up to the Wall's existence: 'turning the threat over' by means ofa moat, with ducks, water-lilies. willow trees.

'\, .

'C -

;, I

I

I

In thesefirst studies ofthe Island of West Berlin. the moat manages to make it unclear who is defending what - even who is doing the walling in or out?

I.

•

•

-

"

• •

•

,

.

1975: Kreutzberg. The city block replacing poor-quality bomb-damage infill. Drawing by Alisoll Smithson .

92

...

•

1975: In Kreutzburg. keeping the integriry ofthe ciry block. so further quietening - protecting - its traffic-free centre. Stepping back the block's outer skin towards the ciry behindfunher protective layering .

Extending the architectural language illherelll in the conglomeratefabric ofciry, illlo this century's appreciation ofsun and wish f or energy conservation.

AA FILES 15

P." 'CAL SCHONING PHER RICE: THE tMILY PROJECT

1hR Emi(v ProJ~('1 began as a research projeclto d~"elop noise Ix,rriers for use on Berlin motorways. whi"h often cuI direclly Ihrough residential dislricls.

The lask was 10 develop a mulli-Jun clional device combining an acouslic barrier wilh h~lII absorbers (which could supply nearby households ",ilh hOI wtUer) . yt'l also adding something ofbeaulY /() Iht' urban landscape . An important requiremenllVas Ihal il should be possible /() mass-produce Ihe wmponenls cheaply and efficiemly. n,l' name Emily. borrowedfrom Ihe elegam winged RolIsRoyce emblem. was adopled as Ihe name for Ihe projecl because . apart from Ihe ob"ious conneclion wilh au/{)mobil~s. il represented Ihe high slandards which had heen selfor soil'ing the problem .

The most common type ofbarrier consists ofa monotonous wall composed of repetiti ve concrete elemell/s. If contillued over a 10llg distall ce. this rept'titioll. apartfrom causing boredom . can lead to irreg ularities in the heartbeats of passing drilus .

Moreo"t'f. this type ofbarriertmds to trap JumeliJilm air. Our design sets in its place the Emily 'wing '. a multi-('oloured sculptural element which. while performing the above-memiolledJullctions. can adapt to chall8 ing conditions to create a varying display ofshapes alld colours.

The Reometrv ofthe panels making up the Emily wing. which consist of a limited number ofsimilar shapes. is deri ved from a toroid. Because any segment ofa toroid takm bt'twt'ell radial lines of equal anRles is identical. se.'eral small identical panels can be combined to f orm the surface ofthe whole. By using the correct radii for the circles which make up the toroid. the Emily wing isformed from a specific part of its surface. This win8 is mounted on a central mast at a ten -degree angle. " 'hie'h emphasi:es the j unction betweellll'ing alld mast. or corpus. The result is a double-curved surface. a self-supporting wing with the maximum dimmsions of 12 X 20 m . . which can be made up of mass-produced panels.

The panels could be made of mild steel. aluminium (Jr plastic. b\' means of stampillg. casting. extrusion . or ,·acuum-fomling (ora combination ofthe latter t wo). Each must weigh at least 15 kg!"r in order to provide the necessary mass for noise redu ction. This could be a('hie,'~d byfonning the panels from two mild-sleel sheels. and it would then onl\' remain to • pro"id" ducts fo r the circulatio n ofa heut-absorbillg fluid. Howt!l't'f . ifaluminium o r plastic ...ere to be used. flUId clwmh",.1 m ulti be added to achie"e the nt'f..'l'SSllrv . U't'i((hl , .

Be/wan the wings there' would he a " glllll''';glll . transluCt'nt II1fill </fllcture. " 'hieh would mhallCt! the l(Iund-proofin,~ effect. The ('urmturt' ofth e \\'11111.' ....ould <'fetlte (I kllld oftwlllel effect . SI) tilat monn~ lorrtl's I\ould Jrtlw ai, ill th e;r wake . Ihll~\

... . , .-.

,

.,,

~- ~ -

.... =•• .. ....... lE ,!t:o • •• T ._ • -,

-

.,

1

--

•

, , ," ••

••

•

•

•

.I I

• , • 1 .0

•

-

,

-;;

~

!

,

•

-· 1 ,

I

-

•

•

••

,

• it• -

• I

,•

•-

• , .. , • ." ,J -• I~

,

I

I '

I

I

I

•

•

·· h_. '.' .

•

•

, • •

• I'

,

•_ .

• • •

r.d.

•

' -

:

•

• ,,• •

.----

.- c

_ _ J

,

,i

• "I !I •

. ~

H '

.~t

I '

• •

•

•

--~

hdpll1,~ /0 d~ans~ /t "Jfumn .

Cliem ' Berlin Se nat I Project Director: Dr Dllha Bndw ell) , DesIgn : Pasca l S.:hunlng I r..-h,tekturlabur) WIth Chmtoph Langhof. WIth the . s~l<tance of Mauh,., Saucrb ruch and Carl", Vllianue> • . Englnccnng and wmputer deSIgn ' Petcr R,.:e 10, eA rup and Partne r,l . Sound and Ent:rgy Englneenng ' Cnmpnmo Gmb H. m<tcrddm ' Hdnover

,, : ~,...

•

-~

.-

" ·

" -

/'

-'

-r, ,,

,,

,,

, _I

,,, ,, , , I

4'i

.~

•

• •

•

,

••

• •

• •

• •

· ."·, .." ' . '... "

AA DIPLOMA HONOURS AND DIPLOMA SCHOOL PRIZE, 1986/87

,

,

>

.

~

~.

Stephen Spence

, .

,

.•

;

•

,. , • •• "

...

•

. . ,",

.

I·.

.." .. · ,l'j. ;,

.

....

.~.

•

•

·, '.

••

.

•

.:

I; •

•

.'

,

"

••

•• .

'

-

.~ ",

~

.'

", );.,'

. · .· -. ,.,. .. .. , . . .. "

"':.,

•

..

, • •

•

,.

• • •

•

•

••

, • •

"

~

"~'

•

..

~

'.

., I

'"

• •

,

I • •

•

•

I

-

~"

• •

•

f',,",

•

•

,

•

•

'\.

I

•

•

".

,,

~'"

>,.t ,

,",>. ' .

• ;, ~

.,

.

,

•

,

.

.,'~.,

•

· •' . .

'.

,

'

••

•

· .'..... ·, :\' . .. " . .. , ... . ., ". ".. .. . ", "

" •

•

.'.

• •

• • •

• • •

•

•

.,

~

.

,,' •

,. •

."

• ,·•

•

r

..'.,.. ..,. ,•

.

""

··.

•

,

'~, " 1 1 * "

'" .~ • ...

••

•

. ""

· ,Ji··\·

•

•

•

•

.

"/~J

l;t

"I

•

•

•," ,\;, •

.' .

Step hen Spence was awarded the AA Diploma with Honours and the Year Prize for the best all-round portfolio by the AA Diploma Committee which met in July 1987 .

Born in Newcastle in 1961, Stephen received his RIBA Part 1 at Manchester University School of Architecture , and worked in a Nottingham practice for two years before joining the AA Diploma School in October 1985 . During the two academic years he spent in AA Diploma Unit 8, led by Ron Herron , Andrew Herron , Jan Kaplicky and Frank Newby, his work was characterized by its verve and its attention to detail. His studies culminated in the final project of his fifth year, a sequence entitled 'What would you do today if you had to replace Eva Jiricna's shop for Joseph next to Joe's Cafe off the Fulham Road, Le Corbusier's Swiss Pavilion in the Cite Universitaire, Paris, and, lastly, The Economist group of buildings in St James's Street, designed

by Alison and Peter Srnithson in their heyday .

Spence unabashedly admits to disliking the Smithsons' solution - the windswept plaza, the coldness and emptiness of the spaces, the tight, squat spaces

I

•

-

I

,

d =

I

,

I

,

!

~

·'

•

,

,

"

~

.,,"

•

. .

. ~- ~

\'r

-

l,- ' I

•

,

I

I I

inside, though he concedes that the views are 'nice'.

He confesses to a lack of interest in the turbulent anti-ClAM struggles of a fOllller generation, and the urbanistic paradigm involved in the Smithsons' deck solution .

Spence's own solution is a new building expressing the Unit's predilection for tensile , lightweight, technicaJly advanced construction, and consists of two mast-like structural elements from which are suspended the skin and the floor 'decks', with service cores at the back . The elegantly detailed fittings and fa~ade s complete with solar-controlled blinds provide flexibility, lightness, airiness and fantastic views . The building, approached from St James' s Street on a gantry and overlooking a garden of parked cars, makes a big, bold corporate statement for The

,

...

•

Economist.

Since graduation, Spence has been working in the office of Richard Rogers & Partners.

Alvin Boyarsky ,

96

"

-

•

•

AA DIPLOMA HONOURS, 1986/87

Ben van Berkel

Situated on the outski n s of London, Docklands is nevenheless an intrinsic pan of the city, and any work in the area must take this ambiguity into account, rather than attempt to camouflage it. Ben van Berkel' s fifth-year project in Diploma School Unit 9 also consists of two different but complementary pans , the main media strip and the All? Water Station.

Ben used a strategy which he describes as 'mixed media' . The tellll refers, first, to the physical layering of the site, which runs along the entire length of the Royal Docks , fOlllling an anificial island (as a Dutchman Ben derived a perverse pleasure from the idea of reclaiming water) . The strip is divided into three layers which are venically intersected by visually dominating elements such as the towers . The fOlIll of spatial intervention determines the architecture of each layer: On the very lowest level , where water is the dominant factor, is the concrete foundation, built using techniques similar to those used to build the existing docks. The next level is dominated by concrete, from which are carved the architectural elements. The third level is defined by construction methods .

However , the tellll mixed media also refers to the distribution of occupations and uses, as can for instance be seen in the Scuba Tower, which features a seventy-metre-high diving-pool amid housing and office facilities. The All? Water Station likewise accommodates various techniques and uses. According to Ben , it reflects the contrasts and variations of the city . The city is seen as a continuous banle between the subject and the object: the pennanent and the mobile ; the public and private ; the open and the closed . One way in which the complexity and illogicality of the urban strucrure is expressed in London is through its squares. Many London squares have an open space, or a little park. in their centres - as a reversed

A II? motorway the reflections, on the transparent glass, of the water underneath would appear to be a simulation of the docks. The building above is based on a highway construction (another simulation - in this case of the All? motorway) , bridging a stretch of water which is 'natural' on one side and anificial on the other.

The connection with this and the third sense of ' mixed media ' is very close, referring as it does to the underlying concept of the project. This could be characterized as a tactile equivalent of phonetics, a system used to convey information usually excluded from that system . The idea that language can be notated in a way that indicates how it sounds suggests similar possibilities for architectural drawing .

According to Ben, architectural drawings should be concerned with conveying rather than describing space and form . Descriptive drawings refer to existing space , using systems of formal representation fOllnulas such as onhogonal and axonometric projection and perspective. Our familiarity with those codes makes it difficult to perceive their illusory and deceptive character. Nevenheless, Ben's drawings do not represent a flight from reality. On the contrary they are analogous investigations of the way in which architecture is experienced. They emphatically reject facile or schematic 'drawing-board' solutions, for example the rectangular grid which is a prominent feature of his earliest projects . Underlying this is his growing conviction that no one system of geometry can structure the fragmented manner in which we experience the urban environment. We depend , for orientation, on details and fragments, each of which has the potential to work structurally, but only as part of subjective and personal experience. A total vision of

the city, whether mythical , ideological or technological, belongs to the past , thus Be n's drawings are invariably concerned with fragments. But the structure by means of which individual city dwellers orient themselves, using these fragments, cannot be 'described' in an objective drawing , or be summarized in an easily consumable image.

For this reason Ben 's Docklands drawings also use mixed media in a literal way . Vivid splashes of paint on detailed ink drawings lend an air of skilfully controlled energy . He somehow manages to steer these forceful gestures in an unexpectedly realistic direction (he obtained a high pass for hi s technical work on the Water Station , working with Ove Arup and Partners to turn a series of 'crashed-model' drawings into a dynamic construction) . Nevenheless, the drawings alone are not central to his project, nor are any of its other constituents, for it is essential that they should coalesce into a coherent pattern - if not a preconceived, schematic one like the grid. For this he has adopted the widely misunderstood telln accretion, which he defines as 'a positive interpretation of fragmentation ' - the growing of different things into one. This is what the culture of the city is based on, and what the Mixed Media Project aspired to . Very different from linear development , it took shape as a group of different fragments growing and interweaving to form a fluent spatial unity .

Hans van Dijk

monument.

The Water Station has a flooded jetty with a covered walkway leading into the water and a pool with a glass roof at the level of the original docks. From the

•

,

i

-: • >

'00 •

AA FI LES 11

, • •

-

•

, •• •

I

•

-

•

•• • • .',,, ".-,• •

."

" ""• •

"", , , ,

.

, ,, ',,

'.

•

~ \

•

\

~/

-.

•

MIXED MEDIA PROJECT OPPOS ITE PAGE : Strip axonomelric.

ABOVE LEfT: Study of villas along the strip. Glass walls andj/oors suspended above water.

LEFT: Section, elevation and plans ofScuba Tower.

ABOVE: Perspective section ofScuba Tower.

99

AA DIPLOMA HONOURS, /986/87

Katrina Lahusen

THE ART AND MECHANICS OF REDUCTION

are all theatres) . Further to the model , the theatre is subjected to technical study: hierarchies of beams stacked , joined and strapped with metal connectors - a great gridded ark . Actions performed publicly in this cube are similar to the two rehearsed privately in the Motel Room . The monumental staircase is here internal , a ubiquitous foyer , a space for encounters. The auditorium is small , a vessel puncturing the box . It is open to the sky , and its backstage portal is another mechanism for viewing the horizon .

Finally, this thesis is communicated to us through the medium of drawing: lines on paper , a reduced number of lines , exact lines, xeroxed lines. In combination , these form an elaborate perspectival polder space in which the five building-types float in simultaneous projections. Here too there would be a problem of insubstantiality, if not for the final seductive layer, the rendering. This is not the filling-in of colour. material or shadow . It is a series of sepia glazes which , without destroying the transparency of the line. give both site and buildings a homogeneity, a materiality. an earthen quality . They are then truly grounded.

The themes of 'reduction' and of 'the machine' are further pursued in the Motel Room . It is the most minimal of dwellings, a box distinguished from the idea of enclosure by only two features: first , the diagonal entrance-staircase, the articulator of that fundamental passage from outside to inside, from space limited only by the horizon to space limited by the precision of four walls: and , second a single slit, the window. an oculus which reconnects to the horizon the eye of a standing person. This Motel Room is itself a machine. an optical machine: it measures the site . Its moving parts are the occupants . Entering via the diagonal staircase, one descends through the datum plane of the horizon . In a situation where ground level is dispensed with, it is appropriate that the relative horizontal plane of the horizon is manifested as measure.

At this point. it appears that the credibility of the enterprise is based on its intentional insubstantiality .

Such transparency is not entirely convincing, but these doubts are anticipated and countered by the solidity of the next element, the Floating Theatre.

The crafted model convinces us of the materiality of this wooden box , a magic box , a house of illusion (as

GROUNDING - According to Heidegger , a site, a siting , the siting of something, does not exist prior to the idea o f that which is to be sited, the building .

Taking this at face value, Diploma Unit I devoted a year ( 1986/87) to the conjuring of a context by the invention of the architecture sited there. These are polder buildings, an architecture which authenticates the occupation of land reclaimed from the Markervaard in Holland .

Reclamation is not the issue . As with salvage, the Dutch have mastered this technology . Today, the more pressing question is to do with modes of occupation, of establishing a qualitative framework for habitation . In the absence of ancient lines in the landscape and of layers of history, what can we, in the late twentieth century , devise as sustaining structures?

This is the question behind Katrina Lahusen's project. Her particular qualification of the programme is to reduce it to five statements. five contemporary modes of being . These also by their very isolation qualify their opposite state , the conPeTer Wilson gested city . Thus five building-types are invented (or, more accurately, distilled): Car-Park Tower (connection to outside), Motel Room (occupation) , Bridge Factory (production), Floating Theatre (cul, I' ture) , and - always on the horizon - a Sports Field (abstract goal ).

The subject of reduction is not only programmatic. It is also pursued in the design process. in the mode of representation , and in the language of the five architectural pieces - a ruthless exclusion of all but the essential. The initial reduction is quite lite ral : all source material is repeatedly fed into the , Xerox machine. the chocolate-grinder o f the image.

Thus references . Lahusen 's own earlier work. the • site , and even the given figurative source of the programme (Holbein' s The Ambassadors) are re• • duced to half the size of a postage stamp, pure signs • emptied of content , which, mounted on a single page • • • • • • • • • ..

-• in a notebook. become a new topology. a new polder • landscape . They are in fact the plan of the PlayingField . the final and most elusive po lder piece.

As can be expected , the issue of the machine , of technology. is taken up in Lahusen' s third type, the Floating Factory . Here the ' reduction' becomes ' production' . The Facto ry is like a Xerox machine for bridges. Bridges. because they provide the means to traverse the watery landscape. The Facto ry is a metal bo x open at both ends - raw mate rials fed in at one end are assembled by robots and extruded at the other. It prope ls itself through production, away from the polder car-park . away from the known. towards the Pl ay ing- Field . The Bridge is a standardized product. the sequence o f its asse mbly scored like a Schl emme r ballet: but resting on each bridge is a second product . the Mote l Room. These are hand-b uilt by c raftsmen. and are then launched fro m the bridges by the factory c rane. to fl oat whe reve r required . Through narrati ve and , mo re importantly. th rough the prec ision o f the objects the mse lves. we see he re a domestication o f fi e rce nineteenth-centu ry technology, a cohabitati on with the mac hine . 'The house is a machine ... ' becomes Bridge Factory: Model with ror/removed yJIOIV;IIfJ 1/ ~. " IJt! It jI oor, H'h ereSIX1CCfl . . 'j " ~ le (o m (\or · mm'alJle mbOHarl' wall'the mac hine is a house ... . mounled . and model eleval fOl1 . ~ •

•

•

•

•

•

•

100 AFILESI ~

• •

•

-...

,

~

'" . •

,

•

r,

-

,

, ,

•

.r .

".

• • •

.1

'

,"

.. •

•"

..

,

...

--

, •"

.",

.

• ", ,""\ t, . ', . ".

• • ,

,

.-,·,, .. ...,"

•

!

--

.

,

,

I

-

!

I

,

.

, .

,

,.

•

--_"

I ,.. .

.. ~ ..

•

'

•

•

.

'

, p PO

"

..

"'J..

~h;l': . : t'~~ £ ~ " -~ ' ..

", .. ;J,.;"" ...v· .-.

I. 'I " ·. ")',.

1,.'

• , " , ...... , · ," ,

,

,

,, •

"

.K

-

"

',

.

• _.

•

.

' v " "I""

.... . .!

'

.. .....

,• •

•

•

•

•

•

,

,

, , • •

"

'/

.I

/

"

,.

•

•

., , , ," •

-. ,

,'

. " • • ,

. , • ,, , , . '.

•.• .' ... ~

,

0'

24 x 24 )( 24 m.

Components; Submanne/collector

, •

... .•. ,. :-/, "

,•

of components, house of the theatre crew ; tower, connection between submaone and stage, containing all serv ices; two platforms, balconv; box, stalf, buildmg ; f1Vlng stalf and theatre barge of metal.

,

•

,

• •

•

,

.'

SPORTS FIELD

,

•

.

..• ,

) ''''" j. " ~'' l, •

Type . Floating bo)! and tower

· /.

,

..

Type ' HOrizontal plane 200 x 500 m Components; lmes - height vanes accord ing to viewpoint .

• .'

-

• o . , • ..

• . ..-.-...

Composite perspective of the new polder settlement. Existing dyke and Car-park Tower to the left. Cors go up the elevator, people spiral down the ramp. In the centre the Bridge Factory is proceeding towards the Sports Field. (The length ofthe bridges is a measure ofthe success ofthe enterprise.) The Motel Rooms are anchored to the bridges. Above thefactory, to the left, are exploded proj ections ofth e Flooring 711ealre , a communal building which can be located wherever necessary.

,

BRIDGE FACTORY Type A floating tube

FLOATING THEATRE

• ' .~ -J" 1 ,

,

,

•

.'

• •

entered from top Componenrs DI8gonal staircase ; stone map of the field, hOrizon related to measunng wmdow

lO x 16x72m .

Product. Truss bndge 5 x 5 x 65 m , floating room

•

,

.."'/.

•

----

;-----

,

•

,

_

,

- - " ' - _-':

I

,

•

,

~

Components: LIft 5 x 2 5 m ; 21 platforms for parking . 7 )( 3 5 m • ramp; drawbridge

MOTEL ROOM ISurvey Boat!

Type F1oat.ngbox. 3 .5)(3 5 x 8m ,

.,j

•

CAR-PARK TOWER Type . Column. height 70 m

,

....

•

I

•

r

•

I

,,

,

'h.

-... .

,

,

, I

,/

/

/

,

••

/

, •

•

~.

•

./

,

•

-

I

~

,~

..

•,

•

,

o 0l\ od

.

-I

,

GO

,

Q)

.

Qj G>- --

••

...

.

..."

y\

•

•

/ ,

•

'

j

/r

,

•

I •

Floo/inx Th eatre: Lobby. with suspended theatre above and view;,,/{ po rtholes .

10 1

AA DIPLOMA HONOURS 1986/87 AND FIRST PRIZE, RIBA INTERNATIONAL STUDENT COMPETITION, 1987

Spencer Fung

hostels within easy reach of a railway station; campers choose from random sites in extensive olive orchards, or fOllllal plots on linear terraces raised slightly above the tree-tops: affluent motorists find more comfortable accommodation in motel apartments with communal roof-terraces and bars, Thus a whole range of spaces is proposed - buildings, plinths, traces, gardens, The extensive infrastructure of drives, promenades, tavernas, communal kitchens, and public bathing-houses reads rather like the foundations of a city : buildings are the exception. As the tents unfold, so the city acquires a distinct character. Trees cover much of the ground, however, and the potent silhouette of Topkapi dominates from afar.

The proposed architecture is austere and heavy .

Stone prevails, though fragile materials are combined with it to provide intimacy and the kind of pleasurable spaces to be expected from such a programme, The architectural language is clearly indebted to Ottoman architecture in this respect, although this is the result of interpretation rather than mimicry ; roof-terraces, for example, recall Ottoman precedent, but also develop a modernist theme.

Situated in Istanbul within the Topkapi Palace grounds, Spencer Fung's 'Caravanserai' project embraces both the abutments upon which the impressive acropolis of Topkapi rises, as well as the coast by the Marmara sea where courtesans once enjoyed the sea breezes in pavilions and fOlmal gardens . Thus from the start the relation between old and new - a prime concern of the project - is immediate and unmitigated. Using the device of a modern-day caravanserai, Spencer has reconstituted the former relationship between the palace (at present a museum), its grounds and the seashore .

The site, now owned by the military and overgrown with weeds, reverts to its former existence as a pleasure-ground.

The project responds to certain features of the site: the 'buttress motels' seem to extend the foundations of the palace wall; railway hostels are placed along the railway lines in a manner analogous to the ancient sea-wall towers; entrance spaces to the caravanserai originate in archaeological traces .

Various categories of travellers can be inferred from the programme and each generates a specific response in the project: hikers find shelter in open-air

..

.

-

,

,

,

, '

•

.

I '. , '\-

,

I

, .. '

-' /

,

'I f-'

~\ .-~

.

,

I

I

.

I

< .~ ~, I

\

-._

---

.

--

,, "

\

•

\

,

, , , , ,

,

'

I

Rodrigo Perez de Arce

, ,

\ •

The scheme was awarded first prize in the 1987 'New in the Old' International RIBA Student Competition , judged by Richard Rogers amongst others, 'Caravanserai', the AA Diploma Unit 4 programme, was one for which no contemporary precedent of any standing was available, and old precedents were inoperative: mass tourism is a new phenomenon, a programme as yet unacknowledged, except for its familiar squalid effects upon city and countryside. Such a programme was, if anything, haunted by the sixties infatuation with ephemera, nomadism, mobility, populism - the unattainable ideals of walking, floating , instant cities. But, whereas in the sixties it was the technical gadgetry, enabling a high degree of mobility , that in itself became a prime architectonic issue , here the aim was to generate urban form - albeit fragmented and mainly two-dimensional - from modem nomadism.

The idea of the formal garden inevitably emerged as a fOllllula for the reconciliation of a sense of freedom and hedonism with a sense of place and permanence.

,.

'< . . .

•

..

•

, ,

"

'. • • .

,

, •

(

J

'"

CARAYAllSARI • IST0\N8\Jl , 2000

1 T apkao. Pa lace 2 PublIC park 3 Seraglio po,nt

"5

,

6 8

AnCIen t C'Tv wa ll

Sea o f Marmdrd GoldtOln Horn Dual Cdrflagf:"' wav Rallwav tracks

9 Caravan ser.:J' entrance

10 Paved mound 11 Car -park

12

Entrance-courT 1 3 Rail promenade Road 15 Promllnade 16 C"press w oodland

'"

17 18 19 20 21 22 73 74

Ramps 10 pav.lion Palace paVilion Bunress hOlelS Roof terra ces FOOlpath GaragtJ Pool Communal kllchcn chImneys

25 Dlnmg -chamber footlight s 26 Ramp 27 Forccourl 28 Camplngleffaccs 29 Ollve-orchiJfd camping -g round 30 IrrlgallOn channels 31 SWimming -pool 32 Open Sho wer plinth

33 Shower and toile t paVIlio n

34 Rail hostel 35 Paved terrace 36 Rallwav stop 37 EnH ance to ra llwav Sl op 38 Allolmenl S 39 Pavec1tcr racc 40 Pedes trian blldgo

41 42 43

Staircase TenniS COurlS

Opon -cllr re stauran t

102 AA FILES 1\

" '. ~ ---

(' ~ ..

I .' •

••

•

,

Vi,,,, of I,"anbu/ ~ninsu/o

--

-------------------

Caravanserai axonomelric

•

I

.-

I

•

,,

•

-, ,

-

•

-

_._.

, ~

.. ..

•

,;J ,

•

•

• I -'

(

• .

•

• -•

•

~

-

•

• •-

1""'-"' - , -

I

)

I

103

•

•

•

-

•

.

L-_.:.... ---',

/

I

- _.', "

J().j

'-

Chicago Afthlt Birth or. hhibition at Mus6e d·Orsay. Paris, October 1987 to January 1988; Dcutscbcs ArchitektullllUseum.

Frankfun. 5 February to 25 April 1988; Chicago An Institute. 16July t05 September 1988.

Exhibition catalogue edited by John Zukowsky Prestel-Verlag.1987 480 pp .• 585 ills .• 54 in colour. 42 in duotone. £40 ISB 0-86559-077-X Why is this exhibition not coming to London? That is the first question a British reviewer should ask.

Paris has had it. Frankfun has got it at the time of writing, it returns to Chicago in the summer. and Japan now is said to have secured a slot for it too. An estimable pan of the show ' s purpose (inevitably better covered in the fat tome of accompanying essay s) is to explore the links between Chicago's great period of architecture and European culture. in terms of give and take alike. There is much to be >aid about this. much more than just the overlabou red romance about the American architectural love-affai r with the Ecole des Beaux-Ans, and many currents surface in the course of book and show . But it is symptomatic of British insularity that the connections between Chicago and London. Chicago and Britain. are not well done ; more symptomatic still that there is nowhere adequate in London to put on this exhibition, no hunger among the British cultural establishment for having such a thing . no proper state or municipal funding now to make it possible and no one obvious to scrape money up from elsewhere. Glasgow is about the only British city not tarred with the same pathetic brush of provincialism; it should snaffle the show up quickly .

'They order these things better in France' - and . it goes without saying. in Chicago.

As it appea red in the Musee d'Orsay (in the special exhibition space created within the old station offices at the front. well away from Laloux's distracting volumes and Aulenti 's ponderous blocks). the show lacked one significant word : . Architecture' . 'Chicago - Naissance d 'une Metropole' proclaimed the flapping banner towards the Seine . That was a bit of a fraud , perpetrated perhaps on the grounds that 'architecture' scares Parisians as much as it does other everyday museum-going folk .

But this is not a show about city history . If you want to know in any detail about the Chicago stockyards. the social refollllers of Hull House. or the breathtaking growth of the Chicago transit system. let alone about Marquctte. Jolliet and the Iroquois, this dIsplay is not for you . So far indeed does it confar III to the traditional an-museum conception of exhibIt ions. that there are very few photographs of the city or its buildings in the show (as opposed to the book. which is superbly illustrated) . Everythi ng de pends upon original objects: mainly drawings. hut some bits of ornament as well (chiefly things rc'Cued from the many demolitions of poor old Loui ~ Sulli van 's buildings), and some very fine <tructural models specially made by the Architekturmu ~um in Frankful1 - a generous and enthusia~tlc contribution.

The nature of the exhibition is wonh tressing , "A FJlFS 11

beea!ne it coafOIlUS with a fashion now prevalent for praentillg the spirit of grelt cities at the 'turn of the century' through their cultural artefacts. principally their SllllJter . Paris. London, Vienna have all had stimulating treatment in books along these lines. This show does it about as ski lfully as CBn be done in an exhibition. given the selfchosen narrowness of the path . But, when you think about it coldly. it is a curious procedure which raise, some large questions. 'What impression will it all leave on those who do not know Chicago?'. I found myself asking . If we are to learn about life th rough architecture and about architecture through its use. why are the different kinds of building in which Chicagoans spent their lives so unevenly and ,ercndipitously represented? Where are the schools, the churches. the docks and the factories? Where are the poor buildings. let alone the poor? Or is an exhibition like this not objective at all . but merely a modem f011ll of city-boosterism?

In fact there are some second-rate if not rank bad buildings on display. to convey something of the , ., " grain of Chicago's architecture. The survival of I, • " •• • • • . architectural drawings depends on chance rather • I. " • • • more than merit, especially in the throw-away societies of Nonh America. And so it is that the Vie w ojCJuCGXO /ooA. inK norrh •.\howmg A11chlgan AW!nu t! and bridge. c.1928.

Chicago An Institute has had no difficulty in laying hands on examples of the work of Howard Van yet mechanical and repetitive. conceding very linle Doren Shaw. Peter 1. Weber and P. B. Wight. but to the nature of the material or the whims of the has had to scratch about for working drawings by modeller. As many have pointed out. it is the ornaAdler and Sullivan. This is no bad thing . Shaw's ment of Ruprich-Robert and the French tradition of cosy Cotswoldish villas. Weber's banal apanment practical detailing. not of Ruskin or the Ans and blocks. and the ornamental Victorian office fronts of Crafts Movement. Sullivan 's theory of the stuff is a Wigh!'s buildings demonstrate that many archi- more elaborate and elusive maner, as Lauren tectural assumptions were simply shared between Weingarden's accompanying essay goes to show.

Chicago and Europe all through the period of the Though the exhibition concentrates upon Chiexhibition . Extraordinary and influential though the cago's own architecture. there is ample coverage too Chicago School and Prairie School lads were, on of the so-called 'Prairie School' : the GriffInS, Purmuch even of Chicago's own architecture they cell , Elmslie. Byrne. and all those other able archihardly left a mark. tects whose suburban houses and small-town The lack of photographs disciplines the visitor to scanered about the Midwest help to put Frank L10yd concentrate on seeing the great Chicago architects Wright in fairer context. Walter and Marion Mahony through their drawings. Where these are working Griffin are represented in the show by the powerdrawings, this can be a revelation. For instance. the fully Japanese rendering of their proposed hillside feebleness of detail betrayed by elevations of the suburb for Mason City , Iowa , and in the book by an Isaiah Temple, a rare building by Dankmar Adler essay from David Van lanten on Walter Griffin's after his pannership with Sullivan broke up , shows great plan for Canberra - schemes both sadly how far the fOI mer had come to depend on the latter aboned in their execution. Wright himself gets fuller for all mallers of design. just as Sullivan had but not excessive measure. There is a complete windepended upon Adler for strength and security. As dow from the Avery Coonley Playhouse of 1912, a for Sullivan himself. the exhibition conveys his jolly, almost vulgar affair with bright panels of practical handling of ornament in a way that a leaded glass in scarlet. blue and green and an Amerihundred monographs never could. A dense and can flag tucked into the design . The many perspectbeautiful sheet for ornamental plasterwork at a late ives of Wright ' s work include one for the inside of work. St Paul's Church. Cedar Rapids , repays close the grand house he never built for Henry Ford . It is study. It embodies a number of repeats and many not actually Wright' s at all but comes fJOm the instructions. some surprisingly vague: 'same Niedecken- Wallbridge interior-decorating finn of ornament elongated'. 'same ornament to be Milwaukee. a salutary reminder that Wright's adapted' . How, one wonders. did the contractor interiors are by no means all his alone . A Niedecken tackle this kind of thing? Elsewhere. there is a table al1l1chair for Wright' s Robie House is also included. of ' goodies' plundered from demolished Adler and The climax of the presentation on Chicago itself Sullivan buildings. displaying ornamental bits and consists of two rooms focusing upon drawings for pieces in pristine condition. for the most part the great Daniel Burnham project of 1908- 9 for al1ificially close to the eye, and in all sons of replanning the city , and for the Chicago TribllM materials. Whether executed in cast iron. coloured competition of 1922. Apropos of the Bumham plaster, copper or terraCOlta, it is the same project. this reviewer has to confess hilTlllClf alletgic wonderful stuff: fonnidably inventive and energetic. to the grandiose planning schemes wbich •

I •• ,

.. ..

I •

•

10

from the so-called 'City Beautiful" movement. How anyone could be seduced by the hideous brown perspectives of it by Guerin and Jamin . so much admired in Joan Draper" s essay on the subject. is beyond him . The spirit of urban improvement and pride which animated the plan is commendable. and it led to some good piecemeal results. so pe rhaps overall it did good. But the thought of the city fully rebuilt on the lines recommended by the Chicago Plan Commission is too awful to contemplate. As fo r the Tribune competition. here at least a cautious revisionism is admitted. We are no longer in vited uncritically to praise the inexperienced and ometimes silly (Loos's ent ry) submissions of the Europeans. On the other hand . the emphas is still laid on Eliel Saarinen 's undoubtedly graceful design. placed second in the competition. seems as calculated as ever to detract from the practical ity and beauty of the winning sc heme by Howe lls and Hood. Is it possible that Chicago has still nOl forgiven New York for its victory in the Tribune competition? Most of the well -considered American designs display study of the innovations in pl anning and sty ling skysc rapers in wh ich New York took the lead after the Woolworth Building. Howell s and Hood won because they had complete command of the subject. and created something very close to a masterpiece - an extraordinary outcome from so broad and contentious a competition. Yet their building still does not get the credit due to it. The book. for instance. includes an excellent essay on the Wrigley Building next to it. and one on the competition. but nothing on the completed Chicago Tribune tower with its superbly calculated crown.

The book itself is a treasure trove. full of handsome images and fascinating infonnation to plunder. imposs ible to rev iew as a whole . A weak epilogue

by Stanley Tigerman apart. there is not a dud contribution among the lot of them. Since books are less rigid than exhibitions. the picture of Chicago's architecture that emerges is more pluralistic than the show suggests. Thus there are good essays on old chestnuts (Gerald Larson·s. for instance. summing up crispl y the compl icated state of knowledge about the evolution of the steel frame for skysc rapers). but also pieces on aspects of the city's architecture which tend to be forgotten. Neil Harris prov ides one such on Chicago's remarkable run of shops and stores - Marshall Field (retai l and wholesale).

Schlesinger and Mayer. Sears Roebuck and many others . Here and elsewhere. rightful homage is done to Parisian architecture. espec iall y to the grallds mal/ruins of the 1860s onwards. with their rich. ironframed. open Interiors. OfGeflllan innuence. a vital component in all Midweste rn culture. we glean something from a piece by Roula Gc raniotis. but could have had more on the philosoph ical side . Onl y the two essays on Sullivan seriously add ress issues of archItectural theory . The more challe ngi ng one comes from Manha Pollak. who convi nci ngly brings the name of the great French naturali st Cuvler and the ' science' of phy.iognomy to add to the many other claIms which anyone tryi ng to interpret ulllvan's archJlecturaJ intentIons mu ~t conSIder ulhvan studies. hke Ruski n studies. have reou:hed a formIdable point of complexity. Will 'iOmeone c1ear-heoKled as well as learned please now 106

<

•

•

•

,•

• '. t. •

. ' -•

, ,-,,,., --,

••

~

_

•

.,#

E

•

Mercham s National Bank. Grinllell. Iowa - Louis Sullivall . 1913- 15. reproducedJromLaurell Weillgardell 's Louis H. Sulli van: The Banks (MITPress.

1987. 144 pp .. £22.50. ISBN 0-262-23 130- /) .

sort them out , preferably both together. and make a lucid sy nthesis? It would be illuminating indeed .

At the end of Chicago Architecture. the feeling still nags that amidst all the richness of material there might and perhaps should have been a chapter sc rutinizing the links between Chicago, Britain and. particularly. London. Britain is certainly not forgotten in these pages . One of the best essays (by Thomas Schlereth) is about S. S. Beman. architect of the model factory town of Pullman and many excellent Chicago buildings. Beman 's links with Britain were strong. and his work (like that of other Chicago architects) quite often found its way into the British building press. Likewise. a thoughtful essay (Elaine Harrington 's) on H. H. Richardson' s Glessner House says something about the cosy Engli shness of the composition underlying all that sublime and rugged masonry. while Richard Guy Wil son somewhat natly expl ores the influences of the international Arts and Crafts ethos and the form which it took in Chicago.

All this is one-way traffic. What is nowhere estimated is the impact which Chicago. its architecture and its urban ism had upon conservative old London .

Selfridges . basically by D. H. Burnham and Company and illustrated in this book. might have given a hint : its stylisti c panache and its attempts at open pl anning (fru strated by sen sible fire regulations) knoc ked prev ious British department stores into a coc ked hat. When Derry and Toms rebuilt in the I920s. the store proprietors knew just what to do: they hired Chicago architects for the pl an. fronted by an Englishman who knew about local building regulations and taste. So the current presence of jobhungry SOM in London is noth ing new . At a broader and deepe r level of infrastructure. Chicago's innu ence was. if anythmg. greater. The majority of the deep-level London tu bes we re financed by Yerke, of Chicago. who came to Britain after a stormy.

monopolistic career sorting out Chicago's own transit system . That background is palpable in many way s; architecturally , the Yerkes tube stations were important for bringing to Britain the ideas of modular ' unit ' design . adapted according to the site, and of building and opening a complete station substructure with the capacity to carry a lettable uperstructure. which could be added later , on the more va luable plots. The Garden City Movement also owed a large debt to Chicago. Ebenezer Howard 's time in that city and hi s visits to its leafy suburbs did much to crystallize hi s utopiani sm into something more concrete. while the successful establishment of the Green Belt around London in the 1930s can be traced back to the impress ion made by the belt ways and parkways of Chicago and Boston on a lesserknown visitor , Lord Meath, in 1890. (The innuence of the Garden City and of Lethaby 's philosophy, by the by . upon Griffin' s plan for Canberra is touched upon but not properly grasped in Van Zanten 's essay on the subject .) Finally , how many Londoners know that White City. now just another stop on the Central Line but once the scene of the Franco-British Exhibition of 1908 , was so called in homage to the World' s Columbian Exposition of 1893? Its creator. the showman Imre Kiralfy , had learnt the tricks and architectural effects of his international trade in Chicago, whence he brought them to London. first to Earl' s Court. then to White City. And so one might go on . Had the great new Chicago show come to London, all this and more could have been explored .

As it is. we pay the usual penalty for our insularity.

AlIdrelV Saint

WiIliam Kent, Landscape Garden Designer: An Assessment and Catalogue of His Designs

by John Dixon Hunt Zwemmer, 1987 176pp .• 159i11s.,£29.95 ISBN 0-302-()()600-1

John Dixon Hunt 's latest book concentrates on Kent' s work as a landscape designer and contains the revised text of the Ferens Fine Art Lectures which the writer delivered at the University of Hull in January 1985 and which Architectural Assoc iation students were able to hear at Bedford Square last year. The principal divi sions of the book deal with the Italian background to Kent' s work . his landscape drawings . his career as a landscape des igner and his place in the history of Engli h garden design. with a section on his best-prcserved garden . Rousham . The book fini shes with a catalogue and illu strations of all of Kent 's known landscape sketches. together with other ~ ketc h es and drawings relating to garden build i ng~. and includmg 'ome of hi s illu strations for Spenser 's 171t' Faerie Qlleelle.

The book. which is attractively produced and well illu strated . follows on naturally from the author's work of 1986. Gardell alld GrO I'e - The Rerums(m ce Ga rdell ill the ElIlIlish Imagination . 16001750. where the la, t chapter dea lt with Palladlan ga rdening. of which Kent was of course the pnncl pal exponent.

To remind oneself of the appearance of English gardens at the beginning of the eighteenth century that is, of the generation immediately preceding Kent's - one has only to turn to the engravings of Kip and Knyff; a quick leaf through the pages of Britannia Illustrata will confillll that , in the words of Thomas Whateley's French translator, 'au commencement de ce siecle, les jardins d' Angleterre etoient entierement semblables 11 ceux du reste de l'Europe' , that is, they were regular, symmetrical , and conspicuously artificial. A second glance, however, will show many of the parks surrounding the houses and gardens to be set with irregular clumps of trees, woods and glades , meandering streams and belts of trees . The engraving of Stansted in Sussex for example shows, in addition to the axial and diagonal avenues and enclosed parterres associated with the French and Dutch schools, a park landscape of clumps of trees and deer-grazed grassland such as Turner was to paint a century later at Petworth, and woodland with an irregular outline, diversified with specimen trees. At Broadgate in Leicestershire the engraver, this time Hulsbergh rather than Kip, draws in a bleak and menacing foreground, from which the old house withdraws to the safety of its walled gardens, with hills, rocks, tree stumps and goats, somewhat after the manner of Salvator Rosa . At Bolsover, Derbyshire , hedges , trees and farmland sweep up to the walls of the castle itself, and Windsor Castle is shown across the Thames with a wooded island in the middle distance and hay-making in the foreground .

All the elements of the English landscape style of Capability Brown already exist in the Kip and Knyff engravings, which show a landscape of severa.! thousand years' development, with farmland , ancient woodland, parkland, heath and forest, overlaid by fashionable patterns around the house, patterns ofItalian origin but drawn more directly from Dutch and French models . Many critics , starting perhaps with Horace Walpole, would have us believe that Kent 's major role in the development of landscape design was to reveal the innate but overlooked beauty of the English countryside and to bring it up to the house . Professor Hunt takes a less chauvinistic line and demonstrates the extent to which 'the Signior's' vision of England was coloured by his years in Italy. Kent may have leaped the fence and revealed all Nature as a garden, but unlike Brown he ensured that Nature was conspicuously adorned by Art and kept prettily at a distance behind a Bridgemanic ha-ha . Dogs may chase rabbits on the lawn , but sheep and cattle are kept out (though only just at Rousham, the closest he came to creating a ferme omee) , and the elaborate forecourt screen and gates he sketched for Euston in Suffolk suggest that deer peering through the dining-room windows would not accord with his views of Nature .

John Dixon Hunt does not set out to write a biography ofWilliam Kent , and the facts of his early life, such as they are , are sketched in briefly and without speculation . It remains a puzzle , solved by neither Professor Hunt nor Michael Wilson in his WiIliam Kent - Architect, Designer, Painter, Gardener 1685- 1749, that an obscure apprentice coach-painter , though capable, as this book proves, of making charming if sometimes rather vague AA PILES 15

sketches, should have been supported in Rome for ten years by his patrons, and then go on to become an intimate friend of Lord Burlington and Pope, to revolutionize landscape garden design, and to turn into the leading Palladian architect of his generation. He was not well educated nor, considering how important aristocratic patronage had been to him, was he sycophantic; compare his letter of 24 October 1745 (reprinted in the book) to Lord Burlington - ' My Lord, I reciev'd [sic] your letter .. . I hope you are all well & think now its time to come this way. Yours, Wm. Kent' - with Repton' s introduction to his Red Book to Cobham Hall , written forty-five years later and addressed to Lord Darnley - 'My Lord , It would be great presumption to intrude on your Lordship the following remarks . .. I have now the honor to submit them to your Lordship, as a tribute of gratitude for the flattering mark of distinction , which your Lordship has conferred upon me by asking my opinions.

I have the honour to be, My Lord , Your Lordship' s very Faithful and obedient humble Servant, H . Repton . Dec . 1790.'

Kent's name has long been associated in the public mind with the revolution in garden design of the third and fourth decades of the eighteenth century, thanks partly to his close identification with Lord Burlington 's crusading Palladianism and partly to Horace Walpole's championing of him, and we are reminded of Kent's ironic Temple of Modern Virtue at Stowe , built as a deliberate ruin with a headless statue supposedly representing the essayist's Prime Minister father, Sir Robert. In his 'Essay on Modern Gardening' of 1785 Walpole says, 'At that moment Kent appeared, painter enough to taste the charms of landscape, bold and opinionative enough to dare and to dictate, and born with a genius to strike out a great system from the twilight of imperfect essays . ' Thomas Whateley's translator, Fran90is de Paule LaTapie , being French, took a different line: Kent a eu la gloire d 'introduire dans sa patrie la methode la plus naturelle de composer les jardins, mais iI n 'en est pas

I'inventeur ; car, outre qu 'clle a ete connue en Asie de tou s

les temps, iI avoit ete prevenu en France par le celebre Dufresney , a-peu-pres contemporain de le Notre, genie singulier, & qui sembloit ne pour la perfection des arts d 'agrement. (Introduction by the translator, 'L' Art de Formerleslardins Modemes' , 1771.)

The debt that English garden design supposedly owes to China is a fascinating area for study, and Professor Hunt's book reproduces three designs for Chinese temples, designed possibly for Esher , where Kent was otherwise working in the Gothic style . Other illustrations, for example nos. 20 and 21 in the catalogue , are almost as strongly reminiscent of the blue and white decoration of Chinese export-ware , as of Salvator Rosa . The sketchiness and the tilted eaves and spreading base of the pavilion shown in drawing no . 64 also have a faintly Chinese feel - but is not the building at the end of a rectangular pool rather than in a glade, as the author surmises?

For the author, however, both here and in Garden and Grove , the ove rriding influence is Italy : [William Kent] brought to his work on country estates considerable experience of Italy and Italian gardens .. .

his enthusiasm for things Italian locates him in the long tradition of Italianate Englishmen who have given thal country a place in their affections, nollo say affeclalions.

Vet his versatility with styles, his readiness 10 accommodate himselflo different sites and differenl patrons and his quick eye for visual possibilities ensured thal he adapted Italianate ideas to English landscapes; he began to do this so well , in fact , that his imagery could seem purely indigenous - with the result that this later mode of design came to be the only one for which he was credited. (Garden and Grove)

,

The preface to The Genius of the Place, which John Dixon Hunt edited with Peter Willis , starts , 'This anthology and commentary on the English landscape garden is intended both for the general reader and for students of the visual arts' , and the publication , which is shortly to be reprinted, is a valuable textbook for all those interested in garden design, in which the reader can admire the range of the editors' sources , while having the pleasure of reading Francis Bacon , John Evelyn , Alexander Pope, Jane Austen and some forty other writers , famous and anonymous , 'with the minimum of editorial interference' . The reader of William Kent will not be the general reader and, while the student may wonder even more at the range of the writer' s knowledge, he will not derive so much pleasure from his prose: 'Even Horace Walpole's proleptic and progressive historiography betrays an anxiety of influence. ' How can anyone with a concern for good English ('Chiswick is a prime example of Palladio made to speak good English ') bear to write such a sentence, let alone inflict it on an audience?

An example of the jargon of the sales catalogue is the caption to drawing catalogue no . 94 , 'a truly unique item - an actual plan of a garden ' . I wonder if Professor Hunt's interpretation of the 'actual plan' is correct. The clusters of dots , which he presumes are studs, or sunken tubs of flowers , appear to be grouped on the tops of irregular grass banks, and are much more likely to represent clumps of trees, as shown in perspective in drawing catalogue no. 86.

There are fifty-nine drawings , prints and photographs illustrating the text , and one hundred and fifteen drawings reproduced in the useful catalogue, together with a bibliography and references bringing new material to the attention of the reader and supporting the writer's theories and claims for the influences on Kent - the Palladian movement as an answer to Shaftesbury's call for a new national taste in the arts , Italy , ancient Rome, Pliny, Virgil , history-painting , Claude , stage design, Inigo Jones, Pope, Lord Burlington and many more. No reference is made, however, to the significance of Castle Howard, the noblest and most Roman of all eighteenthcentury English landscapes , and , while Brown is mentioned , Painshill and Stourhead are not discussed , though both reflect many of the influences that shaped Kent 's landscapes. Hunt recognizes the paradoxes of Kent' s work - the combination of contrived classical allusions and apparent naturalism, and the use of Pal ladi an and Gothic styles: neo-Palladian buildings set down in natural landscapes ... were an anempt to recover the purity of ancient styles and naturalise them i~ Enghl/ld . . . a doubleness of response to the past whIch dtd not Imply any contradiction. To celebrate republican Rome with classical buildings tallied with

107

the recognition of a native gothic past, because both were intricately involved with Britain's major claim to contemporary political fame : the Glorious Revolution of 1688 ...

Well, up to a point; the garden style most closely identified with the House of Orange was (to quote Kent on painting) the 'Gusto in the little Dutch way', ' the Dutch mince-pies of Bridgeman' , and the topiary figures satirized by Pope. There was, too, in the WiUiam and Mary garden an enjoyment of plants and flowers for their own sake, far removed from Kent' s Italianate use of plants solely as green architecture and stage sets.

The English have been continually rediscovering Italy since the sixteenth century , and so much of Italian thought and design has been 'made to speak good English', that a clear line between the native and the imported cannot be drawn . The Englishness of the English landscape garden is elusive; nevertheless, it is tough, and survives being exported, and we recognize the englisher Ganen and the giardino inglese as 'English ' rather than 'Italian' when we meet them abroad , even if we do not always think much of them as gardens. Only the French confuse the picture with their mention of ' la Chine', and one wonders whether they may not have a point.

Chris Sumner

The Dilemma of Style: Architectural Ideas from the Picturesque to the Post-Modern

by J . Mordaunt Crook John Murray, 1987 348 pp. , 217 ills., ÂŁ25 ISBN 0-7195-4114-X The Dilemma of Style is based on lectures delivered

by J. Mordaunt Crook (who is ' currently ' Professor of Architectural History in the University of London) when he was Slade Professor and Way neflete I ecturer at Oxford - lectures he also gave at the Architectural Association . It opens thus: ' Dilemmas involve choice: no choice, no dilemma' , a portentous tautology suggestive of an infatuated dalliance with his professorial gown - and a low estimate of his public's intelligence. Neither here nor anywhere el se does Professor Crook show himself aware of the correct meaning of the word dilemma . It involves a choice between two , not simply choice.

This first lecture concerns the Picturesque , and before long we are invited to look at the sham Gothic ruin and the replica of a Greek temple fa~ade , both of which adorn the grounds of Hagley Hall. Joseph Heeley in the eighteenth century observed of the fOJ'lIIer that, ' in reality , it is nothing but a deception' . Crook corrects him : ' In fact it is nothing but a symbol. ' Quite how. or why, this is ' in fact' the case is not explai ned .

Heeley's reaction, so grandly swept aside, refl ects the anxiety often expressed at the time at the architecture of deceit - ' false pretentions never escape detection: and , when detected. necessarily excite those sentiments, which exposed imposture never fails to excite', as Payne Knight noted . Any serious discussion of the Picturesque should address

108

this problem with care. Here is Crook's discussion: Let us go back for a moment to Edmun,d Burke. 'No wo~k of art can be great, but as it deceIves . That was Burke s answer to the rationalist credo - beauty IS truth, truth beauty - and in a sense all Picturesque art is the art of illusion. Perhaps illusion - or at least artIfice -:- IS the basis of all conscious (i.e. post-vernacular) arcMectural design .

If illusion is not distinguished from artifice, there is no point at all in the discussion , and , as for going back to Burke 'for a moment' , we will find from the footnote that Crook has not even taken the quotation directly from Burke but at second hand from a pretentious epigraph by Repton . If we care to read sections VI-VIII of Part III of his Philosophical Enquiry, we will find that Burke's answer to the claim that' fitness' of purpose is 'the cause of beauty or beauty itself has nothing to do with arguments about deceit.

The second lecture is on 'Pugin and Ecclesiology'. ' And could Gothic really assimilate the functions and materials of the new industrial age?

Pugin affected to see no problem. He produced model Gothic designs for shops and railway structures. ' To justify that supercilious 'affected' we expect some analysis of the deficiencies of those designs or of inconsistency in Pugin's practice, but Crook never engages in close examination of either buildings or theories, preferring the pat or glib pronouncement. Two more slides go up : Barry's St Peter's, Brighton, and Pugin's St Giles , Cheadle.

'Barry's church is a piece of urban scenery; Pugin' s church is a machine for praying in.' This is not only cheap but seriously misleading. Before it is a piece of Picturesque Gothic , Barry's church is a box made to accommodate, economically and efficiently, a large Protestant congregation to which a mechanical metaphor might be more appropriately applied than to Pugin's building. Pugin 's notion of Catholic worship comprised much more than prayer, and, besides , his whole point was that the building itself should represent an act of worship.

Later in the lecture we are introduced to the interest taken by the Ecclesiologists in symbols .

Each item of design - spire, chancel. windows in triplets and pairs, cruciform plans. porch, octagonal font , even bell-ropes and door-knockers - each must symbolise elements of Christianity . In essence, Tractarian art was the

art of analogy: the Coleridgean or Wordsworthian view of art as an abstraction from Nature , and Nature as an

emanation of the eternal. In other words, the aesthetic of Romanticism.

It would be hard to misrepresent the matter more

completely . The Ecclesiologists had discovered the medieval writer Durandus and it was an entirely medieval system of symbol ism - not a modern Romantic one - which they were explicating and of course advocating . The attempt at reviving that aspect of medieval thinking deserves more sympathy : Crook doesn't even realize it is a revival and merely bestows a condescending smile: 'There was certainly an element of absurdity in the Ecclesiologists' position: weather-cocks, they held , symbolised preachers, since the cock proclaims the new dawn and the preacher proclaims the Day of Judgement. '

The next lecture concerns Ruskin and Viollet-IeDuc. On the first page we are told what Crook presumably thinks we want to hear, which is 'that like any popular writer - Ruskin told people what they wanted to hear .' In fact Ruskin 's outstanding merit as a moralist was that he told people what they did not want to hear and yet made it impossible for them not to listen. To say that Ruskin was ' buying into a rising market: the market for north Italian Gothic' is grotesquely vulgar, and dodges the difficulty of distinguishing what was in fact highly original in his attitude to this architecture, which had been admired before, but not in the same way .

Just as Ruskin is lowered to the standing of today's Sunday-paper pundits, so the great Victorian architects are made to seem as susceptible to fashion as pop singers . When Butterfield's All Saints, Margaret Street, 'was eventually finished in 1859, it was already old-fashioned. In their search for a Victorian style, the young Goths had already moved on, from Anglo-Italian to Early French .

From 1854 onwards, Viollet-Ie-Duc replaced Ruskin as the Gothic Revival's leading pundit. ' Quite apart from the fact that to achieve this slick symmetry Crook consistently supresses Ruskin's own love of French Gothic (exemplified by his enthusiasm for Abbeville - which Crook calls Abbevilleand Amiens) , this also gives a highly inaccurate account of how Victorian architects worked . One only has to think of a major architect such as Street to realize this. But there is never any attempt to explain how these architects used and mixed and transfolllled prototypes.

The comparison between Ruskin and Viollet-IeDuc is hardly original and neither is the theme of the next lecture, in which for the hundredth time the entrance fronts of King's Cross and St Pancras stations are contrasted. 'Both conceal their structure. ' To claim that the front of St Pancras, which is (as Crook himself acknowledges) a station hotel , conceals the sheds behind is scarcely less absurd than remarking that the street front of a suburban villa of the period shows no sign of the conservatory attached to its back. Scott 'suffered agonies of doubt, over the sins of suppressed functionalism '.

He did indeed claim that he had respectable anxieties on this subject, but Crook is well aware that in this particular hotel Scott managed to make a flamboyant exhibition of his use of iron supports. To talk of ' agonies' and ' sins' here helps to present an entertainingly lurid , but utterly misleading, picture of the problems which Victorian architects faced .

Still more stale is the review of Victorian architects and theorists who failed to love the Crystal Palace . It is surprising that Crook, who shares the contemporary reaction against glass architecture of our time. does not look at the evidence with any real care and sympathy . Might not the Ecclesiologists have been right? Perhaps the Crystal Palace was, as they claimed , marvellous but not finally satisfying as a work of art . Its modern admirers never saw it. In any case it should be observed that the Ecclesiologists were not merely prejudiced against the new materials (which they had been toying with themsel ves) but against the dependence, for sublime effect, upon the repetition of identical units and mechanical detail , such as is AA FIL ~ Ij

also characteristic of English Perpendicular Gothic to which they objected in similar tel ms.

It is impossible to do full justice here to the deficencies of all these lectures but it should be said that the final ones, which treat architecture in this century, are the worst of all. The book has been acclaimed for its topical message. 'Well, where do we stand today? ' Crook asks. In a most exciting situation , it seems . The new eclecticism is defined as ' nineteenth-century mimetics plus twentiethcentury semiotics' - 'the vernacular of sophisticates, the language of freedom '. This is no doubt a 'rising market' to buy into. ' Even Punk Vernacular - New Wave Romanticism - puts fun back into function . ' As well as congratulating ourselves on being so sophisticated and speaking the language of freedom and daring to have fun, we are encouraged in a facile ridicule of the recent past. 'Only an architect blinded by non-visual dogma could commit an atrocity like the Sacher Building in Longwall Street, Oxford (David Roberts : 1961-2)" we read, and look at the plate which repeats 'Blinded by non-visual dogma' in the caption. But was this really that dogmatic?

Was it really non-visual? It may look unfashionable, but is it an 'atrocity '? As for the quiet, serious architecture of Voysey: 'Voysey's world remained the old world, not the new . In fact , there is no mistaking a Voysey house. As you approach it, sweeping gables reach out to greet you; as you enter the hall, you crack your head on a beam. ' This sort of sneering unsupported by any real analysis is utterly unworthy of the President of the Society of Architectural Historians of Great Britain, one-time Slade Professor at the University of Oxford. It is worse than playing to the gallery . 'In fact', as Crook would say, it is a cowardly echoing of the bullies in the playground .

Nicholas Penny

La casa rurale in Italia

by Aldo Castellano Electa , 1986 274 pp ., ÂŁ43 The Italian countryside - particularly the ' bel paesaggio' of Renaissance Tuscany - has cast its spell over admiring visitors for centuries. Villas, farm buildings, manicured gardens and the cultivated fields which surround them appear as the culmination of a long , arduous but ultimately harmonious process of accommodation between the demands of nature and the civilizing influence of art . Having achieved the perfect marriage between man and the environment , the architecture of the countryside now seems to bask in the relative tranquillity of a well-earned semi-retire ment. Or so many of us would like to believe.

For those whose continuing enjoyment of the Italian countryside depends upon thei r ability to sustain this idealized view , La casa rurale in Italia might perhaps be issued with a health warning . The history it paints of Italy' s rural development will disabuse even the most romantic reader of his or he r AA fiL ES 15

belief in the achievements of Renaissance humanism, particularly those associated with its cultural conquests, as conveyed by the spread of rational planning and design in building rural houses and estates.

Aldo Castellano rejects this as myth , arguing persuasively that, while the architectural effects of the countryside convey a positive image of stability and order, in reality they represent ' the inertia, stagnation and violence' with which landed property (derived from city wealth) subjected the countryside to its own economic and political interests. The system of share-cropping - the mezzadria - by which most land was farmed produced an impoverished labour force compelled by debt to supply free labour which was used to carry out large-scale building and land-reclamation work (as well as to provide its own housing , largely in straw huts which have disappeared from the landscape) .

The surviving houses and villas were built largely by the peasants caught up in this system to house the estate manager (it !attore) , who was the agent and overseer of urban capital invested in the countryside.

Castellano argues that it was the share-cropping system itself which, by paying workers in kind rather than cash, inevitably tied agriculture to the limited production of subsistence goods and so failed to encourage the specialization (based on natural advantages) and commercial innovations that modern agriculture required . The architecture which housed the unchanging mezzadrile system came to reflect this failure and so to embody the conservatism and decadence of rural farm management.

Not only was there nothing natural or harmonious about the process of colonization, there was nothing spontaneous or continuous about its development either . Distinct waves of development correspond to changes in the fortunes of city merchants and in the accumulation of urban capital required for agricultural investment. Accumulation depended on continuing prosperity and relatively long and uninterrupted periods of peace . In the absence of these preconditions, the countryside was allowed to decline and stagnate for almost four centuries following the late Middle Ages. Land which had been reclaimed and made arable by monasteries and small holdings owned by urban nobility became swamp once more . As late as the fifteenth century, wolves prowled just a few miles outside Florence in a countryside populated primarily by deer .

Just as the economic incentive for rural development derived from the towns , so did the house types used by petty noblemen in setting up their agricultural operations. In other words, the earliest rural houses did not spring up as spontaneous or ' natural ' solutions to the problems posed by cultivation of the countryside but began as transplanted urban models forced to adapt to a new set of functions . The house tower (la casa torre) which spread through the Mugello , Chianti and Casentino districts between the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries was really a transplanted version of the tall city house (these are illustrated in considerable detail in the paintings of Carpaccio, Gentile Bellini and Lorenzetti) . The need to economize on plot size, to build vertically rather than horizontally, was a more sensible strategy for

town than for country building , where the need for constant and multiple access to covered shelter (for animals, implements, produce , etc.) would seem to dictate a more elongated design .

Similarly, the plan of the casa della mezzadria , the classic Renaissance country villa , makes no sense without reference to its urban origin . An external staircase to a kitchen and family rooms on the first floor may be a more obvious solution for an urban dwelling, where families may live over a shop, an office or an arcade, than it is for a country dwelling , which is the centre for a much greater range of activities , where ground-floor space is not at a premium and where building a second storey may add unnecessary expense. The transplanting of porticoes and loggias represents a similar borrowing.

The massive square enclosures of the Lombardy plain also hark back to the vast parkland of the Castello Sforzesco in Milan.

The great contribution accompanying the transfer of urban architectural ideals to the countryside was the concept of advance planning . Even if the square, formal multi-storey plan was not always appropriate or relevant to the needs of agriculture, it did increase the scale of building and so (perhaps inadvertently) was able to accommodate future expansion. This inhibited the practice of continuous jerry-building required by the addition of new economic activities as an estate extended its cultivation to include vines or flax or mulberries for the production of silk.

Over time , the country house imposed its own character on the fOl mal plans imported from the towns . For example , the square dove tower (la torre colombaia) , widespread across the whole of Val d ' Arno and Chianti through to the Val d 'Eisa, was incorporated within the perimeter of the casa colonica, to become its most immediately recognizable feature . Probably derived from early fortified towers, as it lost its defensive role it became a room for doves or pigeons, which were not only adept at killing snakes and consuming weeds but also provided valuable manure for agriculture and meat for the table . Though this functional role gradually fell away, the tower has nevertheless remained as an important decorative feature .

If the house types demonstrate the asymmetry in the relationship between town and country (and between capital and labour), the use of materials and modifications in design are much more directly linked to local and regional variations of geology and climate. The book gives an impressively detailed and comprehensive account of these variations, tracing, for example, the use of wood , stone and tufa in the structure of the rural house from their first appearance in primitive huts through to more sophisticated applications, as some materials grew scarce and expensive. For example, the massive deforestation accompanying land reclamation for cultivation in central and northcentral Italy, beginning in the eleventh and ending in the seventeenth century, brought in its train much tighter regulations governing the use of wood as a building material and much more economical use of the material itself (though timber-framing had already been in use for a long time - Herculaneum has the earliest complete example of a preserved wood-frame house) .

109

The use of colour and decoration in rural buildings is also linked to particular regions. The easy availability of limestone in the south, coupled with its properties as a disinfectant and a lightreflector, have made whitewash universal in many southern areas. The use of coloured plaster was a technique developed by Arabs in Italy and has been used since Roman times to decorate walls both inside and outside. Traces of plastered fayades coloured in red , blue, green and yellow-gold can still be spotted in Sicily and Campania. Tuscany specializes in decorative combinations of terracotta , brick and stone. Lombardy boasts an extraordinary variety of chimneys and decorative grille-work in brick, used to ventilate haylofts.

For all these regional variations, generous illustrations - both photographs and line drawings - provide helpful and sometimes necessary clarification of complex details described in the text.

Taken together within the framework of the overall argument, these details contribute to a considerably enhanced understanding of the forces at work in shaping a landscape of extraordinary interest.

El/en Leopold

Towards a Social Architecture: The Role of School Building in Post-War England

by Andrew Saint Yale University Press , 1987 267 pp., 14 colour plates, ÂŁ 19.95 ISBN 0-300-03830-5

Towards a Social Architecture covers the history of the post-war school-building programme in England . It features the work done in Hertfordshire , the Ministry of Education and CLASP, and the roles and interactions of key individuals. The story provides a coherent and important picture of the development of the entire programme from its beginnings. For me it clarified the reasons why the increasing market for systems-building and the dependence on closed systems had such a strong grip on the British school -building programme. The emphasis on smal l-scale projects and the productorientation of pre-1945 school programmes was totally new to me . This was obviously reinforced by wartime experience and post-war shortages. The concept of an industry in which one chooses an industrial partne r to work with developed out of a context which is linked by the author to the growth of modem architectu re in Britain.

Reading Towards a Social Architecture put my own limited experience of the British schoolbuilding programme into context. It was like seeing the first movie of a trilogy after the second and third .

Working at the Building Research Station in Watford from 1954 to 1956 enabled me to meet many of the members of the British architectural , research and educational community at a time when the significance and accomplishme nts of the Hertfordshire programme were no longer in doubt.

It was already proven that there was a way to provide high-quality schools with limited resources .

The results of the Hertfordshire annual school-

110

building programmes were highly visible all over the country . This, coupled with the work on prototype design by various people at the Ministry of Education , set an environment of continual improvement by constantly updating the building systems . The promulgation of a partnershIp between architecture and industry provided for the optimal use of limited resources. As a result , welldefined needs could be met by the tool and die makers who were the craftsmen for a significant portion of each school within the programme. The use of prefabricated techniques custom-made for school construction reduced the requirements for conventional products which were needed for housing , a high priority . Exposure to this kind of rational and resourceful behaviour as a raw, young graduate architect has played a major role in moulding my professional outlook and activities.

When I began the California School Construction Systems Development project (SCSD) in 1961 , I visited England to analyse the next round of developments . CLASP was in full bloom and other county programmes were under way. Control of the market; which was central to the success of the Hertfordshire programme, had escalated. The annual programme encompassed more than ninety projects. The technology had improved somewhat but the modus operandi was unchanged. With the Hertfordshire and CLASP systems representative of the second and third parts of the ' trilogy' , I was excited to learn about the origins and early evolution of the school-building programmes , and am indebted to Mr Saint for filling the gaps in my knowledge .

The book covers a period of British architectural history that I am familiar with and greatly admire. It shows architects as leaders, co-ordinating users, clients and industry to use available resources to benefit society . It took me back to a formative period in my own development. What more could a newly graduated architect have looked for in the profession he was about to enter? At that time I did not ask any critical questions about the school programme. I just tried to learn from what was being done . The book describes that period so well that I was transported back to a time when learning, experiment and dedication to social needs were the highest values within the architectural profession .

The questions I ask today are based on my own experience with school prefabrication . The competitive environment in the United States made it essential to translate user requirements into performance specifications, so that educator/architect teams set the requirements to which architect/ engineer/industrialist teams responded , each according to their particular area of expertise. The aim of this approach was to create an open system permitting competition amongst pre-coordinated components and , as appropriate, conventional products . The nature of the development of SCSD as an open system , and the application of the products to thousands of projects is not full y understood by Mr Saint. However, he documents the UK history a nd achievements very well .

I would like to see a more c ritical analysis of the underlying attitudes related to a number of key issues. The following statement left me wanting as

full an exposition as that which was presented on the early development of the school-building programme: 'But one dream never materialized , or at any rate not on any scale or for some time . This was the dream of freely interchangeable structural components, of an "open" system of prefabricated building. ' (p. 92) This issue is not explored . Is this because of the links with industry , which liked the security (or apparent security) of closed systems, because architects focused on design vocabularies related only to a particular building type with enough control of the market to obtain the specific objective? Or is it because of a tradition which segmented the engineering products industry , as opposed to less sophisticated generic products which were adaptable to all building types? In later years, as non-educational systems were developed or imported into the UK, it seems that the major programmes were almost always based on a closed system designed for a committed market. I would like the benefit of Mr Saint 's thoughts on this subject. But perhaps he is saving this for a future publication?

Another area which I would like to see explored is the relation between market aggregation and innovation. Why did the pattern of relations between client, architect and industry remain the same when conditions of shortages, market size and application to additional building types changed? Although the formula was a good one, and facilitated beneficial changes, it quickly beca!1)e institutionalized. Each of the various teams was independent , but they did not enrich the general building vocabulary to the extent that should have been possible . Did this lead to a separation of interest between architects doing non-systems work and the building-systems community, to the detriment of both?

As a postscript , one might question the benefits of the systems process without the requirements for prefabrication. What happens to buildings designed with specialized components which are frequently changed as part of annual programmes? Are replacement parts readily available for operations and maintenance?

I learned so much from the book about what took place, that it increased my thirst for information on many other issues related to the place of systemsbuilding in the construction industry . The lesson that came through loud and clear was that, in order to solve a problem , there has to be a common goal , and the dedication to achieve it. The need for a shared vision relating to social issues has not abated .

A model showing the possibil ity may be even more important than the work itself.

In reviewing the accomplishments described in the book , I was impressed by the fact that the world financial situation no longer offers a hospitable environment for 10ng-tClIII development programmes. The economists seem to control our fiscal health by raising and lowering the inte rest rate and the money supply, thereby impacting the building industry and othe r activities requiring long-term investme nt. This process is inimical to capital investment in manufacturing-pla nt and related tooling , and the creation of e ngi neered products or prefabricatcd building systcms . It takes considerable time and money to develop , test. and produce AA FILES 15

new COIllpC.llli!IIlJi and, if t!COIIOIIlic policy can Clllse too intended markel 10 disappear, for the investor it h like pl.a ying roulene. Progrei.5 . therefore, rtquiw. thal shared visions and cOmnuunenlS m\lll embrace all of our polilical, social, economic and professional ioslilUtion.\ if we are to rocus the reSOurces needed 10 address significanl goals .

Tuwardl a Sodal Archilt'cture fLlls a muchn"eded gap in our knowledge. It shows lhal, ir we have the will. we do have the capacity to address \oc idy', need for appropriate physical environmflllS. It Je;cribcs a period when society did not walk away from critical issues relaled 10 the built cnvironmem. claiming an incapacity to make a difference . Perhaps il is time to revive those values .

Elm Ehrt'Mrunll

--- - ----_.------------_._._---The Oanteum: A Study In the Architecture or Literature

by Thomas L. Schumacher Princelon Architectural Press. 1987 170 pp .. 17 colour ills .

ISBN ()"910413-09-6 Giuscppe Terragni was commissioned to design the Dantcum in mid-1938. Final designs were to have be~n approved by the Duce himself in mid-August 1939. but even he seems to have been busy with other things. and by September the project was shelved . Terragni. who was not yet forty. was lIrnfled for service at the Russian front. As a faithful member of the Fascist party he went willingly. But the VIle reality of it all led to a nervous breakdown. hallucinations. and a crisis of repentance that drove him to beg pardon of all those friends to whom he had made his confident militarist assertions before his departure . He died suddenly. of a stroke. on 19 July 1943: he was 39.

The drawings of the elaborate finished plates for the shelved project. the very ones which were to be shown to the Duce in that fatal summer of 1939. were saved from wartime destruction by Pietro Lingeri : ten years Terragni's senior. he was a wellknown architect in his own right who had often collaborated with Terragni . The two architects and the patrons who had originally commissioned them. ,\ Milanese Dante enthusiast and Fascist party member of long standing. Rino Valdameri. who ran the ' Socicta Dantesca·. which published a monumental edition of the great poet. and a steel baron, Alessandro Poss. which last was to provide the bulk o f the finances for the project. were actually received bv Mussolini in his study. in Palazzo Venezia when he sanctioned it. Both patrons had connections with that curiously named institute the Scuo la di Mistica Fascista (to which a number of architects also belonged). founded by the Duce 's brother Arnaldo to act. for all its e~alted and secret <oc iety name. as an intellectual ginger-group to keep the Idea of revolution before the North Italian party in power .

Terragni had been commissioned to design a D-dnte study-centre and lihrary. which was also to act as a 'Temple to the greatest of Italian poets'.

-

who6c • , Wti reaiiled by Mussolini .

Dame's' was with resolving the conflict between the Papacy and Empire (in favour or the latter), so achieving universal pe.cc. All this had Iitde connection with the .

Italian colonial enterprise - the word 'empire' concealed a trick . Tellagni, an imperuous and visionary designer, transfOillled the tawdry programme inlO an intense promeNltle archilt'cfuralt' , which was to act as an initiatory experience for the Divine Comt'd.l'. Not exactly. as Schumacher will sometimes have his reader think, a walk on which you pick up visual references to literary quotations, or even an architectural illustration of the hundred cantos - something the title of his book rather implies, but a building providing an experience which would completely transfornl the reading of the book.

The fOIIlla! devices. as is always the case with Terragni's buildings. were elementary. The site was on the Via dell'lmpero (now dei Fori Imperiali). opposite the Basiliea of Maxentius: the width of the ruined imperial basilica became the length of the Damcum. On this width, and on forlllal analogies to the basilica. Terragni played an elaborate sct of variations on golden rectangles and squares.

Terragni left few clues about his method. and Schumaeher's reconstruction of it. as well as his comments on historical references (about which Terragni was very explicit) and on contemporary literature (which he took for granted). is very helpful. He has also published the drawings for the project in colour. as well as the report which accompanied it. of which only onc copy has survived. and that incomplete. This is rather important. as it is the only documentary evidence about the complete project. There is no definitive monograph on Terragni, and what has appeared (Zevi 1968. Mantero 1969) is evasive or bitty; the only account of the scheme in a general history of modern architecture (William Curtis 1982) is therefore inevitably based on Schumacher's which first appeared in Italian some ten years ago .

Since the project exists only in such fragments, it is a pity that Schumacher has not provided a complete set of plans and sections to make a reading of the whole building a bit plainer . In fact the shape of the area is only just bigger than a golden-section rectangle. to allow for a narrow entrance - which leads into the hypostyle courtyard of a hundred columns. certainly conceived as the dark wood of the Inferno . Throughout the building the numbers 3, 7. 10 and 100 recur. as they do in Dante' s compositional method : for instance the stone cladding is coursed three thick. one thin. to represent the ler<l1 rima ofthc Divine Comedy .

But to return to the plan : having entered the hypostylc . forest' of pi/Ofis. you go up a triple run of steps . through a portico of writhing figures of the damned. 10 the infernal chamber , whose seven progressively thinning pi/oris are organized along a Fibonacci spiral (each supporting a square plaque of ceiling. and standing in the. middle of a square plaque of Ooor) to make an ominous cluster at the springing of the curve . Another passage. up more stairs. takes you up to the top· lit Purgatory. whose roof opens to the. sky in rectangles which relate to the

t.e.vy p1~ of !be Inferno; and from dIere ~ Itgtin iDlo the Paradise chamber. OIIM to the sky, and lying directly over the bypostyte hall of the entrotnee. its thiny -three glass columns (one for each cant<l) collesponding in a cornpliclled pattern tome solid ones of tht" .dark wood ' below . Schurnacher derives them , rath~r enigmatically , from 11 sixteenth-cenlUl)' Parman painting .

Off the Paradisal space there is jj long double passage in which the final lesson of Empire and Church i. restated - by the shape of the building and by al lusive sculpture . Sculpture is used throughout the building. and there are even projOClS for the use of phOlographic panels on frame supports, much liS there were projects for the use of either monumental reliefs or a phOlographic composition on the blilRk wall of the Casa del Fascio at COnlo . As at Como, Terragni's collaborators were Sironi for the reliefs and Nizzoli for the photomontages . (Sironi was perhaps the last European artist of real stature 10 consider his art a public acti vity .)

The enigma of the building remains : initialOry temple and research institute, allegorical promenade or abstract composition. a vain piece of Fascist bombast or a major contribution to modem archilrlCture. Unfortunately thi s monograph , a little marred by its modish. East Coast post-structuralist lingo. will not quite resolve it. Occasionally the eyebrow rises inVOluntarily. as when Schumacher paraphrases Dante's famous letter to Can Grande della Scala as having separated mt'aning from structure. which he equates with a division of COnlt'nI and fOIlIl. while Dante quite explicitly scparated subject and foolll. But since the possibility and value of such a building seems (to me. atlcast) to raise some ofthe current architectural problems in an insistent manner. Schumacher and his publisher deserve unstinting gratilUde . It is a book to read, examine and puzzle over .

Joseph Rykwen

HI

CONTRlBUTORS

Geoff Bennington teaches at the University of Sussex and has taught in the AA Graduate School History and Theory Programme . He has written extensively on eighteenth-century French fiction, and is known for his translations of contemporary French philosophy, notably several texts by J .-F. Lyotard and, more recently, Derrida's The Truth in Painting. He is an editor of the Oxford Literary Review. His article in this issue of Files is based on an AA lecture given in February 1987, part of the 'Other Architectures' series organized by Donald Bates.

Paolo Berdini studied architecture at the Universities of Rome and Cornell, and history of architecture at Cornell, and is now preparing a Ph.D. thesis in the history of art department at Columbia University. He has published articles in Casabella and Controspazio, and a book on Walter Gropius (Artemis , 1984) .

A1vin Boyarsky is Chairman of the Architectural Association.

Victor Burgin, artist and art critic, is senior lecturer in history and theory of the visual arts at the Polytechnic of Central London. His books include Thinking Photography, The End ofAn Theory, and Between. His article in this issue of Files is based on an AA lecture in February 1987 , given as part of the General Studies 'Other Architecture' series organized by Donald Bates.

Yago Conde, an architect practising in Barcelona, has taught at the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute , Troy, New York; at Bennington College, Verlllont; and in the AA Intermediate School during the 1986/87 academic year .

Peter Cook, an architect in private practice with Christine Hawley , is Professor of Architecture at the Stiidelschule (Art Academy) in Frankfurt. He has taught at the AA since 1964, and is on sabbatical during the current academic year, during the Autumn and Spring TellllS of which he has been giving an occasional series oflectures entitled' Architecture as a Nervous System' .

Coop Himmelblau have just opened a second office, in Los Angeles , and are working on the Open House in Malibu and the Attic Conversion in Vienna . Wolfgang D. Prix presented the two prize-winning schemes published in this issue of Files , along with some other current projects, to the AA in a lecture given in February 1988 .

Hans van Dijk is editor of the Dutch magazine

Archis.

Ezra Ehrenkrantz, principal-in-charge of The Ehrenkrantz Group, New York , pioneered the development of educational building systems in the USA with the School Construction Systems Development Project in California. He has led his firm in a number of major design projects, including the Queens College Law School and the master planning , programming and design of the US Navy' s relocatable hospital system .

112

Zaha Hadid has taught at the AA and is on sabbatical during this academic year. Her work has been exhibited and published world-wide, and she has lectured in Europe, Australia and the USA. She was a visiting design critic at the Harvard University Graduate School of Design in 1985/ 86.

During January and February of this year, five pieces of furniture designed by her, as well as sketches and working drawings, were displayed in the AA Bar and Members' Room. An illustrated catalogue will be published at a later date .

Christine Hawley is an architect in practice with Peter Cook . She is senior tutor at the North East London Polytechnic and has taught at the AA since 1978. During the current academic year she is on sabbatical, and will be a visiting critic at the Oslo School of Architecture.

Ron Herron, a founder-member of Archigram, has taught at the AA since 1966. Since 1982 he has been principal ofRon Herron Associates .

Martin Kemp teaches in the Department of Art History, University ofSt Andrews.

Ellen Leopold attended the AA in 1969170. A lapsed architect, she is the author of In the Service ofLondon (1985) and, more recently, ofa study of the private-sector economy ofHarlow .

Mary McLeod is associate professor at Columbia University and co-editor of Architecture, Criticism, Ideology. Her articles have been published in Lotus, Oppositions, An Journal, and other publications. Her article on Charlotte Perriand is based on a lecture given at the AA in January 1986, along with a series of seminars on post-modern architecture. She returned to the AA to lecture on Le Corbusier in May 1987.

John Melvin is an architect and town planner in private practice. He is a member of the AA Council and the Honorary Editor of AA News. His latest publication is a guide to Barnsbury , published by the RIBA in 1987.

Andrew Saint is a historian working with the Historic Buildings and Monuments Commission, a member of the AA Files editorial board, and author of Towards a Social Architecture: The Role of School-Building in Post- War England (Yale University Press, 1987), reviewed in this issue of

Files.

Pascal Schoning teaches in the AA Intermediate School.

Michael Sorkin is an architect and writer who teaches at Cooper Union and Yale University .

Gavin Stamp is an architectural historian and architecture correspondent of the Spectator. A frequent lecturer at the AA , he organized the General Studies lecture series 'Cities' which is taking place during the current academic year .

Chris Sumner, an architect with a special interest in historic buildings and garden history, and formerly a member of the GLC Historic Landscapes Panel, works with the London Division of the Historic Buildings and Monuments Commission. He is a second-year student in the AA Diploma Course in the Conservation of Historic Landscapes, Parks and Gardens.

Peter Wilson has been unit master of AA Diploma School Unit I since 1978 , and in practice with Julia Bolles Wilson as the Wilson Partnership since 1980.

Their winning entry in the recent competition for a city library in Munster was featured in AA Files no. 14 and in the inaugural lecture of an evening lecture series organized by Peter Wilson during the current academic year, including lectures by Toyo Ito, Shin Takamatsu and Elizabeth Diller.

Solon Xenopoulos is an architect working and teaching in Athens . He is working on a Ph.D . thesis on the subject of space in films.

OMA have recently completed a series of buildings in Holland, including a housing scheme in Amsterdam, a police station in Almere, a bus station in Rotterdam and The Netherlands Dance Theatre in The Hague . The Checkpoint Charlie project is now under construction and is scheduled for completion in 1989.

Nicholas Penny, an art historian, is Keeper of the Department of Western Art at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

Rodrigo Perez de Arce has taught in the AA Diploma School since 1978.

Peter Rice, an engineer with Ove Arup & Partners, was responsible for the details and structural concepts and analysis for the Sydney Opera House and the Pompidou Centre, Paris.

Joseph Rykwert teaches architecture at the University of Cambridge and the University of Pennsylvania.

AA FILES 15

AA PUBLICATIONS

TEXTS

Current Titles

A series of publications of the work and writings of leading theoreticians and practitioners of architecture designed to bridge the gap between built work and projects and ideas Texl2

JOHN HEJOUK: THE COLLAPSE OF TIME MEGAS A series ofl arge-format, high-quality publications designed to display adequately work requiring ca reful reproduction .

MegaVIJ

MARY MISS: PROJECTS 1966-1987 Conve rsation with Alvin Boya rsky. texts by Joseph Giovannini and Ma ry Mi ss 108 pages. 183 illustrations. including one layered gate-fold drawing on tracing paper. 272 x 343 mm ., 1987 Price [27 .00, ISBN0 904503 95 X

Mary Miss is one ofa small number of sculptors who during the early 1960s abandoned the traditional stud io ac tivities of modelling, casting and welding and went out into the landscape to explore it, to make a mark on it and to build on it. Their output is by definition spatial and constructive and , because it is liberated from the particular constraints which late twentieth-century architects must observe, has often se rved as a source of vicarious experiment. In partic ular, Miss's work includes the early use of readily available, mass-produced disposable materials, the cinematic architectural promenade used lyrically to prese nt the space of a landscape , and laye ring techniques which record a lifetime of reading and travel .

This publication gathers together for the first time a near-complete record of Miss's oeuvre, and includes her ea rl y small-scale studi o pieces and first outdoor and indoor installations. with their characteristic imagery of stakes . fences and ropes. as well as the better-known landsca pe projec ts, large-

-, •

,

Texts by David Shapiro and John Hcjdu k 88 pages, 35 illustrations, 202 x 282 mm., 1987 Price £2 1.00, ISBN 0 90450394 I

In October 1986John Hejduk 's The Collapse of Time was e rected outside the Architectural Association premises in Bedford Square . The structure, a clocktowe r conceived as the sixty-eighth monument in Hejduk's Victims project commemorating the victims of the Gestapo, was then ceremonially lowe red to 45 degrees and 0 degrees at fortnightl y intervals to signify the collapse of time.

Head of Cooper Union School of Architecture, John Hejduk came to public attention in the early 1970s as part of a group identified as the New York Five a nd holding in common the intellectual abstraction of their architecture. His Collapse of Time is a study in the temporal poetics of architecture, which, as both the representation of a clock and the negation of all measuring devices , is a plea against the reducti ve and fal se ways in which we di vide both ourselves and time. In ' Diary Constructions', Hejduk 's personal record of the conception of the project, he envisages the c1ocktower as one of three elements to be moved on a journey through ten north Italian tow ns, where elected representatives - a man and a woman - will perform a ritual masque in which the man will be lowe red through isometric to horizontal (past) time. while the woman, perhaps represe nting un interruptible time, recites continuously from Hejduk' s poem 'The Sleep of Adam '. Hejduk 's drawings desc ribing the masque are also included in thi s publication , together with a poeti c appreciation of his work by David Shapiro and a stunning photographic study by Helene Binet of the construction of the monument in Bedford Square, which coincided with the exhibition, in September 1986 at the Architectural Association, o f Hejduk 's Victims project and its publication as the first in the 'Texts' se rie s.

SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS THE OLD HAM ROAD : PHOTOGRAPHS

BY CHARLIE MEECHAM Texts by Chariie Meecham and lan Jeffrey 64 pages, 39 colour plates, 2 maps. 6 black-and -white archi val pholographs, 202 x 330 mm .. 1987 Price [2 1.00, ISBN 1870890000

77,e Oldham Road is a photographic record of the changes in a small stretch of northern England during the mid- 1980s. The area is of particular interest as a ' map ' of the disintegration of a formerly prosperous urban community th rough the disappearance of the old mills and the te rraced houses of their workforce, and the deterioration of the housing erected during th e optimistic wave of 1950s public spendi ng, and thei r repl aceme nt by scattered factories , isolated commuter estates and urban wasteland . Charlie Meec ham 's colour photog raphs, although almost exclusively without people, none the less tell a story rich in human history. The book should be of interest not onl y to architects and social historians, but to anyone who wishes to preserve a record of the fate of northern England in Thatcher's Britai n.

CZECH FUNCTIONALISM 1918-1938 Texts by Gustav Peichl and Vladimir Slapeta 176 pages. 460 illustrat ions. 230 x 230 mm .• 1987 Price £2 1.00_ ISBN 0 904503 97 6

From the establishment of the Czechoslovakian Republic in 191 8 to its in vas ion by Germany in 1938, both the State and the middle-class intelligentsia embraced architectural modernism as the sty le of

WORKS A series of monographs on se minal figures in twentieth-ce ntury British architecture .

Works IV

\

'

, -' '

LYONS ISRAEL ELLIS GRA Y

•

-...>,'

A

•

•A

\ ;> \

--

scale mu seum installations. unbuilt proposals for New York Ci ty, San Diego and Po rt Tow nse nd , and her latest work - a temporary installation speciall y designed for the space outside the Architectural Association 's home in Bedford Square, London, and a permanent co mmissio n for the southern tip of Batte ry Park C ity, New York . The hi gh-quality photog raphs, drawings, sketc hes a nd referen ce mate rial which illustrate the projec ts arc accompanied by texts by Mi ss he rself as well as some of the foremost authoriti es on he r work , The book is introduced by a conve rsation between Miss and Alvi n Boyarsky, and includes an article by New York Times cri tic Joseph Giovannini , and a full list of wo rk s, bibliography, list of ex hibitions and biography .

Ed ited by Alan Forsy th and David Gray . Texts by Neavc Brow n. Alan Colquhoun . John EIJis. Tom Ell is. Alison and Peter Smithson, James Stirling . Two conve rsations conducted by Alvin Boya rsky .

216 pages. ove r 350 illustrations. 1988 Price £24 .00, ISBN 0 904503 96 8

The partnership of Lyons & Israel was established in 1935, after Eric Lyo ns and Lawrence Israel won the competition for Wolverhampton Civic Hall. Joi ned

by Tom Ellis in 1948, the practice was soon deepl y involved in th e post-war building programme , including the design and construction of twenty -fi ve sc hools, instituti ons for further education (including the Pol ytechni c of Centra I London), hospital s and housi ng projects. In addition to the quality and integrity of its architectural output, the partnership acquired a reputati on as a ' finishing sc hool' for a whole gener~tion of British architects, including James Stirling, Ja mes Gowan, Neave Brown , Alan Colquhoun and John Miller. This book, edited by David Gray, who became, partner of the practi ce in 1970, and Alan Forsyth, re prese nts the first co mprehensive re trospec ti ve of the practi ce's work, with detai led doc umentation through written descriptions, orig inal drawings and pholograph s of so me twenty of its best projects, together with a compl ete catalogue of its output.

social progress and ofa nati onal identity for the new count ry. As a result. Czech functionali st architecture and design flouri shed. with a programme of private .

State and industrial commissions unmatched by any othe r European country. This book provides for the first time in Engl ish a co mprehensive record of the mode rni st architecture and design produced in Czechoslovakia during this period, featuring a detailed presentation, through photographs and drawings, of some fift y built works, together with illustrations of some eight y design projects ranging from aeroplanes and cars to chairs, book-ends and graphi cs. Also included a re biographies of the twenty Illost important architects. quotations and documents from contemporary sources , and a full bibliography .

Enquiries to: Jane Chester, AA Publications, 36 Bedford Square, London WC I B 3ES, Tel. 01-6360974 Paymellt: Invoices sent to institutions only . Overseas custome rs must add £5 .00 to cover bank charges unless pay ment is made in sterling drawn on a British bank . Cheques should be payable to the Architectural Association , Postage and packing extra .

Ourbanker,l'Ore: Lloyds Bank PLC, 32 Oxford Street, London WIN OER Account no . 0039078

•

,

-

\ \

•

,

,

•

\ •

-

,/

'-

-'", -

"-.< y

•

>

~"

-

"

,

--- "

•

-'

,,

. , •0 ".

,/

,

x

-

, ,

>

•

.' . ~A

~

•

"'" .

~

,

•

• •

•

•

-

~

·• -, -

- --,-

/

,

:/ ' 1: ="' ,• • •

- ,

,

, I

•

--

I~

~ -

-

•

.--

-

•

-

•

•

-

•

•

•"

.

,

/.

•..,. ...-">< ,

,

~

-&.

'-

6\:>1;

1 .,

~

•

.-;:.

•

• •

-