CU R AT I N G THE VO I D Building social and cultural consciousness through architecture
William Privitera MA Architecture The Cass, Faculty for Art, Architecture and Design London Metropolitan University 2014/15
CU R AT I N G THE VO I D Building social and cultural consciousness through architecture
William Privitera S13048933 AR7P18 Design Thesis (Summer 2014-15) Supervisors: Prof. Philip Christou and Prof. Florian Beigel MA Architecture The Cass, Faculty for Art, Architecture and Design London Metropolitan University
‘Space is nothing, yet we have a kind of vague faith in it’ - Robert Smithson (Flam 1996, page 6).
Chapter 1. Understanding The Void
Berlin as a void 2 Kreuzberg: A brief background 5 Cuvrystrasse: Berlin’s most recent palimpsest
Chapter 2. The Void as Architecture
1
19
Emptiness and the architectural ensemble 19 On curating architecture and the city 23
Chapter 3. The Library as a Gift to the City
30
Libraries as symbols of culture and society City translations 36
Chapter 4. Curating The Void
11
50
30
Exploring the architectural ensemble 50 A void within a void: Design proposition 61 A specialist library and archive 67 The façade as a face to the city 76
References 86 Acknowledgements 89
Chapter 1. Understanding The Void
In a conversation with Allan Kaprow from 1967, Robert Smithson on speaking about issues on art and architecture says what interests him most are the blanks, the gaps, the left-outs; the possibilities inherent in the disappointments of life, rather than the confirmation of pre-existing ideals (Flam 1996). What are these blanks, gaps and left-outs that Smithson speaks of? With reference to a recent research project for the design of a specialist library and archive in Berlin, these missing elements or gaps were interpreted as ‘voids’. Voids, both physical and metaphorical which represent the various social, cultural and political aspects of the city. Set in the district of Kreuzberg, an area burgeoning with layers of historical and socio-cultural value, a vacant site was selected as the location for this design research project. Situated at the end of Cuvrystrasse and bounded by the river Spree this site is the last vacant plot of land along the water’s edge. The research led to the identification of a multitude of layers beneath its surface yet to be uncovered.
1
Berlin as a void Throughout its history Berlin has undergone a tremendous number of violent and traumatic interventions which have scarred both the memory and the fabric of this city. Andreas Huyssen (1997) claims that ‘no other city bears the scars of twentieth century history as intensely and self-consciously as Berlin’. He claims that etched into our memory is the idea of Berlin as the capital of four successive German states. From the collapse and destruction of the German imperial state, to that of the Weimar Republic which was the epicentre of the vibrant cultural avant-gardism. The rise of fascism by the Nazis led Berlin into another World War as a command and control centre together with the atrocities of the Holocaust. Finally Berlin was a symbolic space within the East-West confrontation during the nuclear age with the USA and the Soviet Union threatening each other with apocalyptic warfare along the banks of the Spree. What followed was a further crumbling of this situation, when finally in November 1989 the concrete Wall that ran across Berlin was broken down and sparked off the process of reunification for a free and democratic German state. The notion of Berlin as a void is more than a metaphor (Huyssen 1997). Historically, the void manifested itself by the vacuum left by the collapse of an earlier culture or movement or by the ruins following a time of conflict. For example, the post World War I vacuum was filled by a functionalist culture of distraction which included movie palaces, new modernist architecture and artistic experimentation. Later, Fascism turned Berlin into a literal void that was the landscape of ruin following the heavy allied bombardment. It was a tabula rasa for subsequent generations. The eventual construction of The Wall transformed entire neighbourhoods into 2
Above: The fall of Berlin, 1945. Source: Online [Available: http://www.pinterest.com].
3
Top: USA and Russian tanks staring down each other during a stand-off at Checkpoint Charlie in 1961. Source: Online [Available: http://www.theguardian.com]. Above: No-man’s-land along the Berlin Wall, 1977. Source: Online [Available: http://www.history.com]. 4
areas of no-man’s-land and minefields which wound their way through the centre of the city. When the Wall came down, Berlin added another chapter to its narrative of voids. Like the ruins following the two World Wars, the centre of Berlin was a wasteland that extended from the Brandenburg Gate down to Potsdamer and Leipziger Platz. What remained along the path where the Wall once stood were simply the protruding steel rods which were subsequently decorated with triangular paper leaves. These powerfully marked the void as a memorial and this installation evoked emotions of a void ‘saturated with invisible history, with memories of architecture both built and unbuilt’ (Huyssen 1997). Huyssen claims that this act gave rise to the desire to leave it as it was, the memorial as an empty page right in the centre of the reunified city.
Kreuzberg: A brief background Throughout the era of a divided Berlin, Kreuzberg was situated in the dead centre of the East-West confrontation. Previously bounded by the Wall on three of its edges this area became the district of choice for people living on the fringes of society. This was a usual occurrence in Berlin at the time as areas located close to the Wall were not usually favoured by the wealthier inhabitants of West Berlin. As the years went on, the quality of Kreuzberg’s buildings plummeted and many of its buildings lay abandoned. Soon immigrants, artists and students began squatting in several of these deserted buildings which eventually led to the creation of new modes of inhabitation. This resulted in the emergence of particular communities with a strong cultural identity and a reputation as a front that ran counter to the established socio-political norms of that period. Upon 5
Above: Along Bernauerstrasse, remnants of the Wall together with exposed reinforcement bars lay as a testimony of time. In November 2014, to commemorate the 25th anniversary of its fall, the city of Berlin installed illuminating spheres to highlight its former route. Source: William Privitera. 6
the fall of the Berlin Wall, Kreuzberg suddenly found itself once again at the heart of Berlin as a unified city. Suddenly, this contained district was free from the Wall’s tight embrace. What remained were large tracts of land that ran alongside the Wall’s path leaving a physical void around one of the city’s largest socially and culturally active neighbourhoods. In the following years, Kreuzberg was to maintain its status as the district of choice for artists, musicians and other members of Berlin’s sub-cultures as rent prices remained low and many building still lay abandoned. However, with the change in the political landscape new opportunities for economic growth developed and Berlin soon built up a reputation as a unique tourist destination. Cafés, galleries, bars and underground clubs started to emerge around Kreuzberg and the area soon became one of the city’s main attractions as this urban setting embodied a spirit of place that was deeply entrenched in history, trauma and revolution. Twenty five years have elapsed since the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the city is still an ever changing landscape. Layers are increasingly being added to the fabric of the city and Kreuzberg is no exception. This area is widely regarded as the cultural quarter of the city, attracting a large number of tourists which has contributed to a frenzy of economic growth and speculative development in recent years. This however, has recently sparked a process of gentrification and urban renewal throughout the district and reports claim that this so-called development is changing the socio-cultural landscape of this once marginal neighbourhood. This has resulted in the displacement of the communities that gave Kreuzberg its original identity leaving in their wake a socio-cultural void that risks being filled by office blocks, gated residential communities and a multitude of corporate-led developments that lack the ethos for which the district once stood. 7
8
9
10
Previous page: Site plan of Berlin (scale 1:40 000) indicating the former route of the Wall in relation to Kreuzberg and the river Spree. Note the site in Cuvrystrasse. Source: William Privitera. Opposite: Night scenes along the streets of Kreuzberg during a study trip in November 2014. Source: William Privitera.
Cuvrystrasse: Berlin’s most recent palimpsest Located at the end of the street called Cuvrystrasse a vacant site is set alongside the waterfront of the river Spree. In recent times this undeveloped plot of land has been at the heart of a controversial topic throughout Berlin. Squatters who had been residing upon the site for the past few years were forcefully evicted by the authorities in late September 2014 (Online source). The site was subsequently cleared and fenced off, denying the public any access to one of Berlin’s last vacant sites along the river. Furthermore, this eviction was viewed as one of the final acts of an ongoing change that is being felt throughout the district. This was widely regarded as a manifestation of the crumbling socio-cultural spirit that previously defined Kreuzberg, adding another layer to the mounting layers of history upon the site. Another important aspect of the Cuvrystrasse site was that two monumental art pieces were painted along the party wall, two images that were often referred to as Berlin’s most iconic street art. In 2007, the Italian artist Blu in collaboration with the cultural scientist and art curator Lutz Henke co-created the art piece. Extending twenty two metres in height, the murals depicted two figures in the act of unmasking each other simultaneously showing the ‘east-side’ and the ‘west-side’ gang signs (Henke 2014). A year later, Blu decided to renovate the two figures and spontaneously added a second mural on the wall next to them; an image depicting the body of a businessman chained by his gold watches. In the subsequent years the murals together with a number of other similar street art pieces throughout Kreuzberg became what Henke describes as ‘Raumbilder’, a quote from Siegfried Kraucer in 1930. What this meant is that the images unconsciously 11
produced ‘the dreams of society’. Henke (2014) states that together with Blu they had created an ideal visual representation of the imaginary Berlin in that period, images which promised ‘a city full of wasteland offering plenty of space for affordable living and creative experimentation among the ruins of its recent history’. However, these ‘images of resistance’ unintentionally became one of Berlin’s top tourist attractions and were used in a series of marketing campaigns, postcards and book covers, ultimately contributing to there own demise. The city authorities and businesses alike utilised these images to further the economic success of Kreuzberg. This has led to a steady increase in rent prices and many of Kreuzberg’s original inhabitants have moved on to areas offering more affordable living spaces. Once Henke and the artist Blu heard about the eviction of the hundred or so squatters ‘living’ on the site, they decided it was time for the murals to vanish. In December 2014, as an act of defiance to the ongoing developments around the city, they painted over the murals with black paint. In an article published by The Guardian , Henke (2014) states that the purpose of this act of erasure was not solely out of sorrow towards the recent development trends and displacement of many of Kreuzberg’s original inhabitants, but rather to convey a message ‘to the city and its dwellers as a reminder of the necessity to preserve affordable and lively spaces of possibility, instead of producing undead taxidermies of art’. Henke therefore, reinforces the importance of both the conservation and the curation of the voids that characterise Berlin. It is clear that the voids physicality have manifested themselves within the vanishing vacant sites, abandoned buildings and low rent apartments, as well as social and cultural voids that are 12
Opposite: Plan of site at Cuvrystrasse in relation to the river and Oberbaum Bridge. Source: William Privitera.
13
14
15
Previous page: View of site at Cuvrystrasse from across the river. Note the artwork still on display in November 2014. Source: Colin Wharry. Above: Blu’s murals in Cuvrystrasse as from December 2014. Source: Online [Available: www.the guardian.com]. 16
created by the emergence of an economically driven society which has lead to the displacement of Kreuzberg’s cultural protagonists, the artists themselves. What presently remains at the end of Cuvrystrasse is a vacant parcel of land which has succumbed to the larger forces driving the economic and social policies of Berlin. Overshadowing the site are the large party walls which bear the scars of a cultural battle and which represent another traumatic episode to the series of interventions on the city’s fabric. Berlin’s latest palimpsest, a fragment of the city erased for the writing of a new chapter in its history.
17
18
Chapter 2. The Void as Architecture
Emptiness and the architectural ensemble Returning to Smithson’s remarks regarding the gaps, the blanks and the left-outs, similarly Florian Beigel and Philip Christou from the Architecture Research Unit (ARU) claim that seldom do they design projects as single stand alone buildings. They state that two or more buildings are usually the outcome of their designs, referring to this as an ‘architectural ensemble’. Their interest in the ensemble lies in the potential for inhabitation of the in-between spaces which are based on a deeper ethos towards architectural design. Through ‘generosity’ as a starting point for design, the spaces carved out by the ensemble are viewed as a gift to the city and its inhabitants. Such spaces may present an opportunity for life to emerge within and around the city giving rise to performance, leisure and encounters. The ensemble explores what these spaces can do for the city through their potential to reveal special situations or moments.
Left: Alison and Peter Smithson’s Economist Plaza (1959), London. Source: William Privitera
They further claim that such an approach is also about an awareness of time. They ascribe to a ‘continuity of architectonic language’ in which their proposals consist of contemporary translations of architectures of the past with a sense of unexpectedness and 19
awkwardness. This application of space was derived from Confucianist philosophy, and reference is made to the word for space in Korean, ‘Kong-gan’, which directly translates as ‘emptiness’. In a project for the YoulHwaDang building at Paju Book City in South Korea the notion of ‘emptiness’ was applied through a series of small courtyards reminiscent of the courtyard-like spaces in traditional Korean houses known as ‘madang’. They claim that such spaces within architecture are not just empty however, they represent a ‘positively charged void’. ‘The city is a place of cultural coexistence where there is a rubbing up of different aspirations and inspirations. It is a place of vitality and communication.’ Beigel and Christou (2010:13) It must also be understood that the idea of ‘the city’ does not simply exist within a large urban scale, but rather over a range of scales including the smallest of urbanisms such as the bottles and jars in Giorgio Morandi’s paintings. Such notions of ‘emptiness’ or ‘voids’ similarly reflect the work of Allison and Peter Smithson (2002) in which they state that ‘architecture has the capacity to charge the space around it with an energy which can join up with other energies, influence the nature of things that might come’. Through their projects ARU attempt to design buildings which make a strong contribution to the quality of the public realm and strive to enhance the civility of the place. In a sense, their work may be seen as a curating of voids bounded by buildings which are architecturally significant, both in their composition and their construction.
20
Above: YoulHwaDang Book Hall, Paju Book City, South Korea by ARU (2009). Source: Online [Available: www.aru.londonmet. ac.uk]. Right: Painting by Giorgio Morandi. Source: Online [Available: www.tate.org.uk]. 21
Above: The ‘architectural ensemble’ as a means of curating the city, Paju Book City, South Korea including the Positive Thinking Publishing House, YoulHwaDang Publishing House and YoulHwaDang Book Hall by ARU (2009). Source: Online [Available: http://emergentcities.blogspot.co.uk/]. 22
On curating architecture and the city The act of curating originally implied that of care and responsibility towards something. Traditionally, a curator would look after a collection of valuable artefacts in a museum and ensure they are maintained in the best possible conditions. However, in recent times the role as curator has shifted and is now largely concerned with wider issues of display and interpretation. Chaplin and Stara (2009) claim that it has transformed into a ‘loosely defined creative activity’ and is increasingly employed in a wide range of cultural fields. Furthermore, the curator is no longer constrained to the collection, but is considered more of an ‘artist at large whose role is to utilise a multitude of tools, media and locations from which to represent the world’. As the role of the architect is shifting, can this role be considered as an activity akin to the curatorship of urban artefacts? It was stated that architecture is a uniquely sensitive realm as it is simultaneously conservative, that it is concerned with conserving traces of the past and embodies history and memory within the fabric of the city; whilst it is also progressive, through rapid developments in design and building technology as well as displaying an increasing fascination towards aesthetic innovation (Chaplin and Stara 2009). Architecture is also described as both local or ‘of a place’ and universal with all its defining parameters becoming increasingly globalised. Kenneth Frampton (1983:17) calls this a dichotomy between ‘culture’ and ‘civilisation’. Huyssen (1997) similarly claimed that the temporal expanse within which these dramas unfold, the ongoing writing and renewing of the city have rendered it akin to a palimpsest. This amounts to the reading of the city as a layered parchment with countless fragments of possible stories emerging through constant overwriting, none of which can be 23
read in isolation or completeness. These notions imply that the contemporary city is a hybrid structure in a constant state of ‘becoming’ through multiple interventions, conflicting intentions and mere chance. Chaplin and Stara (2009) claim that revealing these partly erased, mutated, ambiguous and latent layers remains essential in order to understand the city’s potential and to have any measure of success in future interventions. They posit this notion as a key challenge to contemporary urbanism and call for devising alternative ways of reading and intervening in the urban fabric. ‘Approaching the city as a collection to be curated, whether through representations or in situ, opens up new possibilities for exploring and enriching the urban fabric and the urban condition as a whole’. (Chaplin and Stara 2009:2) Examples in which the curating of architecture is apparent include the architectural exhibition, the public gallery, the regeneration project, the city tour, the heritage archive and the urban art installation. Far from being self-fulfilling activities, such curatorial acts translate as poetic interpretations and have the potential to reveal unexpected aspects of the city and ways of inhabiting it. Architecture and urbanism are complex creative acts of bridging difference and revealing identity, ultimately fulfilled through inhabitation. This presents an opportune context for curating to realise its full potential as caring-for, constructing and consuming the dialectic entity that is the city (Chaplin and Stara 2009). Catherina Gabrielsson (2009) claims that the shift from ‘forming’ to ‘curating’ the city marks a significant change within architectural discourse as 24
it confirms an interest in other cultural fields and directly includes issues of spatial representation and interpretation rather than simply ‘form’ as an end result. Curatorship involves a different conception of space, not as primarily designed or controlled by the architect/planner, but as a temporal, social and cultural phenomenon that is only partially defined by form. A project which clearly manifests the merging of curatorial practices with architecture and urbanism is that by Caruso St John and Eva Lofdahl for the ‘Stortorget’ (main square) in Kalmar (1999-2003). This project sought to interpret and celebrate the void as an architectural and urban artefact in addressing the city. Set in the middle of Kalmar, a small town in the south of Sweden, Stortorget was a large 100 x 100m large open space. Originally planned in the mid-seventeenth century and dominated by its large baroque cathedral, the square was once imagined as a manifestation of the state’s aesthetic and political ambitions. However, over the centuries the square fell victim to neglect, ‘reducing it to a kind of backyard to the commercial streets in the vicinity’. The objective for the project was to strengthen the historical and symbolic identity of Stortorget through the commissioning of public art. The scheme proposed to treat the square as one large, continuous surface, providing the means for different uses while allowing the domination of none. Street curbs, parking meters, and traffic signage were all removed so that the place could be appropriated with a minimum of obstructing fittings. The surfaces of the square were enhanced and interpreted as a ‘field of stones’ and a consistent stone carpeting paved the square from side to side with paths marked out by different textures.
25
The scheme was based on an enforcement of its emptiness, balancing between roughness and subtlety. In order to intensify the vastness of the site, Caruso St John and Lofdahl introduced two more spatial levels: an ‘underworld’ of buried wells and a ‘heaven’ of red light sources. The wells were constructed as underground fountains, fitted with objects such as percussions and wooden balls, in order to create different sounds of running water. Masts ‘placed with the precision of acupuncture needles in the nervous system’ standing nine metres high, made of polished stainless steel and mounted with a red armature of hand blown crystal glass illuminate the upper level. Five more identical lamps were installed on rooftops and chimneys of the surrounding buildings and Gabrielsson states that the points of dim red light create a surreal atmosphere, blurring the distinction between nature and culture, art and technology. By their insertion into an urban context they create a strangeness that keeps the interpretation of the place open. Caruso St John and Lofdahl state that ‘by concentrating on the surface of the square we want to give a higher potential to its imaginary levels, not by over-determining them but by giving them a stronger presence’. Lastly, one protagonist who displayed this merging of architectural and urbanistic practices with wider cultural fields was Eduardo Chillida (1924-2002). A Basque sculptor and educated in architecture, he explored notions of the void and ways of inhabiting these spaces. The forms and spaces which he created bore a metaphysical significance producing significant urban artefacts and resulting in the curation of the city so to speak. It was stated that Chillida considered his work ‘an adventure in learning’ and the forms which he created embody both temporal and spatial relationships (Shields 2014). Furthermore, Chillida 26
Above: Stortorget, Kalmar (1999-2003) by Caruso St John and Eva Lofdahl. Note the continuous stone surface, the underground well and the mast. Source: Online [Available: www.tectonica.es]. 27
expressed great interest in the notion of empty space which in many of his works was central to the narrative. For example, his last and still unfinished work consisted of a large empty space embedded within the heart of a mountain. The mammoth space, a 40m cube pierced by two light shafts twenty five meters high is called the ‘Monument to Tolerance’ and is intended to instil a sense of humility and equality within its visitors. The space is illuminated by the sunlight and moonlight at different times of the day, rendering this void a dramatic experience intended to leave an impression long after the visit is over.
28
Top: ‘In Praise of Architecture V’, alabaster sculpture by Eduardo Chillida. Source: Online [Available: http://www.artnet.com] Right: ‘Monument to Tolerance’, Fuertaventura by Eduardo Chillida. Currently under construction. Source: Online [Available: http://www/pinterest. com]. 29
Chapter 3. The Library as a Gift to the City
Libraries as symbols of culture and society The library is one of the oldest and most distinctive architectural types in history, possibly dating back to the beginning of the act of writing itself with the earliest examples in Alexandria and the Near East (Warpole 2013:33). These buildings did not only store books but were part of a wider cultural infrastructure which included museums and meeting places, representing the centre of intellectual life for the city, a model which is facing a revival in recent times. In a dramatic short film by Alain Resnais (1956) the library was described as an archive of historical memory in which the labyrinthine corridors, halls and underground vaults of the Bibliotheque National in Paris were portrayed with a sense of sublimity that sought to astonish its visitors, whilst its contents was an infinitely growing collection of media that define the world around us. Meanwhile, the recently completed Library of Birmingham identified in its planning brief that one of its functions was to act as a ‘memory bank’, to gather, preserve, present and help interpret the collective memory and identity of the city and its communities and surroundings. Such portrayals and statements reflect the social and cultural importance of the library within the city and 30
Above: Bibliotheque National de France, Paris XIII, 1998. Photo: Candida Hofer. Source: Online [Available: http://www.dbartmag.de]. 31
Warpole (2013) in a chapter titled ‘Libraries: The sacred spaces of modernity’ uses amongst his many analogies that of the library as the new churches or cathedrals of contemporary society. Furthermore, particular importance is placed on their architecture, claiming that similar to a book, architecture ‘has the power to symbolise different belief systems and create new structures of space that embody ways of thinking and feeling about the world and one’s relationship to it’. He claims architecture to be ‘intellectually rich in public meaning and as a means of bringing society together’ and therefore should be applied to the design of libraries in a similar way as buildings of worship adopted architecture as a means to communicate with the inhabitants of the city (Warpole 2013:33). The social and cultural significance of libraries manifested itself once again during the time of the Enlightenment, a period when knowledge was democratised and spread throughout all sections of society resulting in them becoming symbolic structures. These buildings were regarded as safe and quiet places where self-improvement and study could flourish and many libraries during that period found architectural form in imposing Gothic and neoclassical buildings. Also, there were often many similarities between old cathedrals and these new monumental civic halls such as imposing entrances, façades displaying symbolic figures, niches containing busts or sculptures of great literary or cultural figures, grand atria and domed halls with clerestory lighting together with a plethora of works of art and sculpture. The buildings were ceremonial and served to portray a message beyond their pragmatic function as a book repository. Towards the beginning of the twentieth century new ideas of belief, power, social relations and democracy, 32
which later became to symbolise the conditions of modernity required new forms of architectural expression. The rise of architectural modernism cannot be separated from the emergence of social democracy and the welfare state, namely in Europe and newly constructed libraries adapted to reflect this change in culture (Warpole 2013:33). Today the public library is as much a symbol of civil society and democracy as the cathedrals are a symbol of the divine. For example, the Stockholm Public Library (completed 1928) designed by Gunnar Asplund has a long sweep of steps from the street up to the entrance doors. Even steeper steps rise within the marble halls decorated with scenes from the Iliad in relief designed by Ivar Johnsson, as if leading into an inner temple. This sense of grandeur is expressed throughout a range of scales, from the building’s exterior to the smaller elements such as the detail on the door handles. The building’s spatial configuration culminates with the principle reading room at its centre consisting of a circular hall with large clerestory windows. Libraries in the twenty first century are witnessing yet another change in culture through the proliferation of digital media. Although the book as a medium for the dissemination of knowledge has been challenged, it still maintains its position as a popular cultural artefact and emblem of an educated and free society. In an era of globalised digital information the role of libraries is shifting from centres of information to what Warpole (2013:4) describes as a ‘living room in the city’. This requires for these structures to adapt architecturally to the changing cultural landscape and yet, maintain their role as centres ‘which offer the possibility of new directions in life and widening intellectual opportunities to its visitors’.
33
34
35
City translations As we have seen libraries form an essential part of the city’s social and cultural framework. This next section deals with a series of examples from previous projects that embody the spirit of the city and translate it into a material form. These library structures are well proven over the course of time and are characterised by their use of an architecture which is gentle to the site and the city at large yet command a presence which is further reflected within the design of their interior spaces. This sense of a ‘city within a city’ is what Beigel and Christou (2010) call ‘designing the city in microcosm’ and has resulted in the creation of an internal city landscape consisting of books, desks, stairs and rooms together with the manipulation of form, space and light resulting in a building that ‘embodies a sense of pluralism as well as universality’ (Warpole 2013:38).
The Philip Exeter Academy Library The Philip Exeter Library by Louis I. Kahn (completed in 1972) is a particular example in which the architect utilises light, geometry and materials that allow the users to navigate through the spaces within the building. In his approach to the design of this edifice Kahn identifies three necessary spaces, one for the exhibition of books as objects, a second to serve as a collective meeting in which users can meet with the books and finally, a third space where readers maintain a private and intimate relationship with books with plenty of natural daylighting. From the outside, the building is one of several adjacent buildings built in traditional brick as the architect sought to unify the building to its surroundings. An arcade all around the ground floor provides 36
Previous page: Main reading room, Stockholm Public Library (1928) by Gunnar Asplund. Source: Image Bank Sweden [available: http://imagebank. sweden.se/] Top: Philip Exeter Academy Library (1972) by Louis I. Kahn. Source: Online [Available: www.archdaily.com]. Right: Detail of grand staircase at Philip Exeter Academy Library. Source: Online [Available: www.archdaily.com].
37
shelter in case of rain and allows the individual to approach the building from any direction. It also serves as a transition from the buildings exterior to its interior. Upon entering the building, the visitor is greeted by a large circular staircase clad in travertine marble which leads to the inner-most space of the building. The scale of this central area symbolically represents a cultural ascent as it consists of a large atrium with a height equal to that of the entire building, roofed over by large crossed beams that support the roof and reflect light from the clerestory windows. It was suggested that the order and geometry of the spaces are taken directly from Renaissance architecture in which buildings embodied material representations of something divine and perfect. Furthermore, one may note an analogy to sacred architecture as previously suggested by Warpole (2013) as the library at Exeter was conceived as a sort of gateway to a higher state of consciousness through the reading of books. This central atrium is the first space identified by Kahn in which it seeks to invite its visitors to read the books on display, whilst the building’s design also participates in the seduction of its users through large circular openings on each of its sides that looks beyond to the dimly-lit book stacks (Wiggins 1997). Beyond the central atrium, book stacks define a transitory space in which one encounters the books. Moving towards the upper levels, these stacks maintain contact with the central atrium by means of continuous balconies that incorporate shelves as book runs. Beyond this void one emerges into the light, which are the reading spaces and represent the third and final space. All along the building’s perimeter double height reading spaces replete with natural light allow the users to engage with the books. These consist of individual study carrels or alcoves and are the most intimate spaces within the building offering 38
Right: Central atrium at Philip Exeter Academy Library. Source: Online [Available: www.wikimedia.org].
39
Above: Reading area at Philip Exeter Academy Source: Online [Available: www.willpryce.com]. 40
a high level of privacy for the collection of one’s thoughts. A section through the building indicates a clear hierarchy of spaces in which each space has been assigned a particular set of functions. These range from a larger, more convivial space to discreet individual study areas. Materials such as exposed concrete for the interior, timber for the surfaces and brick for the exterior of the building together with the careful use of light are a testimony to the skill with which the architect was able to create spaces that elevate one’s soul to further their understanding of the world.
Berlin State Library The Berlin State Library designed by Hans Scharoun in 1964 and completed posthumously in 1979 is a different library altogether from the previous example. As Kahn’s library was commissioned as a campus library with limited access only to students and staff of an academic institution, Scharoun embarked on a mammoth task to design a library of a much larger scale, comparable to the size of a railway station (Blundell Jones 1995:198). The library had a complex and elaborate programme and Scharoun’s proposal presented the major spaces clearly, guiding the visitor with ease. Mechanical ventilation and artificial lighting were required due to the buildings deep plan however, as there are glimpses of the outside world and daylight on both sides, one feels less cut off. A processional staircase takes the user six meters up to the main reading level, yet the stairs are generous and allow the visitor to gaze through the sea of books and desks before them. Situated in the Kulturforum, an area in Berlin in which museums, galleries and concert halls are situated, the Neue Staatsbibliothek was intended to 41
42
complete the east side of the district. The building was designed with open spaces in front of the public areas and rises to its full height in three steps, starting from two storeys up to eleven. The most notable features of this building is the notion of ‘architecture as landscape’ from which Scharoun develops his plan and spaces. The great reading room with its eight metre-high windows overlook the public spaces and entrance. The State Library was to mediate between its two closest neighbours, the Neue Gallerie by Meis Van Der Rohe and the Philarmonie another of Scharoun’s prized endeavours. A roof terrace was also provided in front of the reading room which echoes Mies’s podium across the road.
Top: Berlin State Library entrance. Source: Online [Available: www.wikimedia.org]. Left: Grand Reading Room at Berlin State Library. Source: Online [Available: www.wikimedia.org].
The main public areas are divided between the ground floor, where exhibition space, the main catalogue and lending counters are to be found, and the first floor containing the great reading room which is terraced on several levels. Although not all of Scharoun’s designs were materialised it is evident that ‘the path of the visitor’ was one of the themes of his conception (Blundell Jones 1995:202). The public part of the library is planned as a sequence of events consisting of inviting vistas throughout this section of the building. The rich tableau of events that Scharoun organised to unfold as one explores is curated by carefully positioned art works, plants, stained windows and an endless variety of stairs and windows. The lighting, both natural and artificial is organised to articulate the identity of each space through the use of the continuous circular diffusers interrupted by pyramidal glass roof lights which were intended to admit direct light and give contrasting wells of brightness. The building stresses the idea of community and one of the main virtues of the library is the openness of the great reading room which allows one to feel the 43
presence of many others. Lastly, Scharoun wanted no hierarchical system in his democratic library and insisted for no central focus within the building. The space in this case flows on and on surmounted by a flat roof with evenly spaced skylights, as the functional spaces are not defined by the structure they gently flow into one another.
Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library Another library located within the grounds of an academic campus is the Beinecke Rare Books and Manuscripts Library at Yale University in New Haven, USA. Completed in 1963, this building designed by Gordon Bunshaft of Skidmore, Owings and Merill holds one of the world’s largest collections of rare books and manuscripts. Situated in a large square surrounded by neoclassical and Gothic style buildings, this seemingly modernist volume consists of a series of spaces which were developed in adherence to a strict programme ensuring optimal environmental conditions for the storage of books of a high value. Furthermore, the monumentality of this edifice cannot go unobserved as the windowless façades, consisting of white, grey-veined marble panes and framed by shaped grey Vermont granite elements result in a sculptural solid as well as serving as one of the protective layers to its rich contents. Similar to the library at Philip Exeter Academy by Kahn, this building was designed as a box within a box, however this time the inner most section of the building is a glass tower which visitors see upon entering the building at ground level. Upon ascending to the mezzanine level via the two staircases on either side of the ground floor entrance, the solid external volume is experienced internally as a void surrounding the glass tower. The marble panes are thin enough to allow light to pass through, dimly illuminating 44
Bottom: Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscripts Library (1963), New Haven by Gordon Bunshaft (SOM) Source: Online [Available: www.beinecke.library.yale. edu].
45
Above: Book Tower at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscripts Library, New Haven. Source: Online [Available: http://www.flickr.com]. 46
the space and giving the illusion of lightness to the building. This space acts as a showcase for rotating exhibits and highlights the library’s rich collection in which mounted book stacks are on display through the glass tower. The mezzanine level, being the height of the entire building is reminiscent of Kahn’s atrium or Scharoun’s grand reading room, in which both the height of the space and the penetration of light serve to instil a sense of awe within its visitors. Although as much inclined towards an architecture of ‘the image’ the Beinecke adopts an element of tactility through the use of its marble and granite elements. This is what Frampton (1983:28) considered as ‘the tactile’ which he claims ‘is an important dimension in the perception of built form’. Upon observation, this library unlike the other two is much more concerned with the safety of its contents. The degree of separation between the book storage areas and reading rooms are more pronounced as the books are stored exclusively in two sections. These are the previously mentioned book tower and second, the lower of two basement levels which is dedicated to the storage of more books. Reading has been allocated to the first basement level and surrounds a sunken courtyard, designed by the Japanese-American sculptor Isamu Noguchi. The experience of the visitor has been greatly curated for in the Beinecke library, and it is evident from this spatial analysis that the preservation of the books together with their display as works of art were major factors in this building’s programme. Similar to claims by Warpole (2013), it is also evident that the purpose of this building is to serve as a shrine to its collection and that it operates on the boundary between the secular and the sacred. The three buildings analysed throughout this section imbue a sense of ‘libraryness’ (Greenhalgh 47
et al. 1995). What this means according to Warpole (2013) is that they have a distinct aura, one which is particular to library buildings and its spaces. He claims that through this aura buildings such as these ‘maintain a balance between upholding the irreplaceable tradition of the book whilst embracing new media and digital technology, in which its linked set of spaces are an agent of change and civic identity’. Finally, it is suggested that no city is complete without a good public library as these buildings provide a rich range of public spaces. From niches for scholars, corporate researchers and even teen-daters the library is universally welcoming to those who seek refuge (Warpole 2013:4).
48
Left: Sunken courtyard at the Beinecke Rare Books and Manuscripts Library. Designs by Isamu Noguchi. Source: Online [Available: www.beinecke. library.yale.edu]. Right: Interior facade detail at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Source: Online [Available: www.dome.mit.edu]. 49
Chapter 4. Curating the Void
Exploring the architectural ensemble This next chapter represents an analysis of the design research carried out for a specialist library and archive at Cuvrystrasse in Berlin. The size of the site allowed for an urban design strategy in which a collection of buildings could be proposed allowing for the potential of ‘an architectural ensemble’. This was seen as an opportunity to address the current situation which to a certain extent was leading to a social and cultural depletion throughout the neighbourhood. In order for a project to truly ground itself a careful understanding through observation is required of the site. Several layers of history exist within the site and it is only through a thorough understanding of these layers that one is able to read its atmosphere. It was intended that the resulting ensemble would seek to initiate a conversation with the city and its dwellers. The ominous black scars overlooking the vacant site were a testimony to past events and added to the temporal narrative of the site. It was a story that needed to be told through the architecture that is to emerge, one of humility and respect towards the previous inhabitants on Cuvrystrasse and which allowed for the reading of its past. Through the 50
photos of Michael Schmidt (2005), it was possible to gaze upon the spirit of Berlin at a time of political and social uncertainty. In his book ‘Berlin 45’ (Berlin after 45) his images portray an sense of absence throughout the city landscape whilst plain facades and exposed party walls emerge as idiosyncrasies of the city. They are images which celebrate the void. This was a starting point for the design thesis. The intention was to explore ways in which the void could be curated to allow for its legibility and ultimately its celebration. The exercise resulted in the establishment of a set of rules for the massing of the buildings. The outcome resulted in three building masses separated by streets and passage ways allowing for the porosity of the site to be maintained. The party wall was seen as a palimpsest and its preservation was considered important to the narrative of the design. This led to the creation of a street through the site as all the buildings were offset from the wall in order to allow for the mural ‘scars’ to remain exposed. This also allowed for accessibility to the waterfront to be maintained. The openings along the party wall were also respected by aligning the building masses to these points, creating two more streets in the transverse direction. Lastly, the height of the buildings was to respect the surrounding building levels and did not surpass an average of twenty two meters. Another important aspect was for there to be a clear reading of the site through its architecture. It was necessary to draw one’s attention whilst passing through the street and allow for unexpected encounters to occur. These moments enrich the experience and allow for a relationship with the architecture to emerge. It is through generosity and care for these spaces that its users can comprehend the soul of the city. 51
Left and right: Photos by Michael Schimdt. Source: Berlin nach 45 (Schmidt et al. 2005). 52
53
54
55
56
57
Previous pages 54-55: Development sketches of massing and urban design. Previous pages 56-57: Urban plan of site at Cuvrystrasse at scale 1:1000. Left: Massing model of the ‘ensemble’ at scale 1:50 in solid Oak. 58
Once the massing was established the buildings were appropriated to a particular programme. It was concluded that the ideal location for the library and archive would be along the waterfront. This was due to the historical significance as well as an opportunity to allow for this part of the site to remain within the public realm. The nearby Oberbaum bridge, widely seen as a symbol of unity between the old East and West Berlin would also engage in conversation with the library and vice versa. The remaining two buildings would have specific functions which would further contribute to the development of the social and cultural consciousness of Kreuzberg. The first building, that at the junction with Schlesischestrasse would adopt a residential programme similar to the adjacent buildings. This would ensure an architectural and urban continuity along this street. At ground floor the programme could possibly include retail and catering establishments to encourage habitation. Another important aspect of this building was that it was the first building the visitor encounters. It replaces the physical void that once existed along this street and potentially erases the memory of the party wall. Therefore, it was concluded that the new facade along Schlesischestrasse would be pulled back to allow for the edge of the party wall together with the existing trees to remain visible. This ensured that this edge deeply entrenched in the memory of the site is not lost. This proposal would also create a small public space directly in front of the building allowing for the unexpected to occur. This was seen as means of curating the street as though one were to curate a museum or a gallery. This action allows the collective memory of Kreuzberg to remain intact whilst also drawing one’s attention to the new street created along Blu’s old murals and ultimately leading one towards the library and the water’s edge. 59
Top: Massing model at scale 1:500 of view from Schlesischestrasse exposing edge of party wall. Bottom: Partial view of library facade at the end of the new street along party wall. 60
The central building, unlike the other two, would have a more loosely defined programme. It is envisioned that within this mixed use building, acts of both work and play would develop. Workspaces, studios and shops may be programmed which further encourage the inhabitation of the site. The uses within this building are intended to complement the library, such as the setting up of a book store, a publishing house or studios for photographers, writers and artists. The spatial relationships between the ensemble allows for unexpected events and awkwardness between its users as they engage with each other giving a greater sense of civility towards these spaces. The route along the party wall allows for a glimpse of the library’s facade (see photo bottom left). It is at this moment that one first engages with the architecture of the library and archive. Although the facade is still partially covered from view one is drawn in further to satisfy this awakening of curiosity for what lies round the corner. Upon descending the street a small square presents itself bordered by an arcade which leads one towards the library and archive entrance. This is seen as an attempt to realise what Alison and Peter Smithson (2002) defined as ‘a charged void’.
A void within a void: Design proposition The proposed library and archive building consists of two masses, one two storeys high and the other four storeys high. Together they create a collage or layering of buildings representative of the architectural ensemble. The entrance to the building is through an arcade which acts as the transition between the exterior and the interior of the building however, it is only a gradual transition as upon entering at ground floor the street extends through the building 61
allowing the visitor access to the waterfront as well as a forecourt which faces the river. This ‘street within a building’ consists of a semiexternal space and the concept is based on an approach of designing the city in microcosm (Beigel and Christou 2010) as it was stated that urbanism exists throughout a range of scales. Also, along this street an internal shaft or courtyard rises vertically through the building allowing daylight to reach the ground floor. This gesture creates a sense of drama reflecting the significance of this edifice as this ‘void within a void’ is the fulcrum of the building. It is a social condenser, a space around which all activities take place and allows for both chance encounters and soliloquy. The gallery space and cafe are located at this level and accessible from the ‘internal’ street together with the main entrance to the library, giving this layer within the building a highly civic nature.
62
Bottom left: Massing development sketch Bottom right: Ground floor plan indicating landscaping, entrance arcade and internal street to waterfront and forecourt.
63
Right: Internal courtyard and street leading to the river and forecourt. Note the thresholds on the right to the gallery space and the entrance to the library and archive on the left. 64
65
Top: Development sketches exploring the determination of space interfaces through a processional staircase and double height spaces. 66
A specialist library and archive The primary programme for the project was that of a specialist library and archive for literature concerning post-war German art and photography. It was to be a place for work, contemplation and reflection. A gift to the city of Berlin and embodying an atmosphere characterised by a spatial richness, a judicious mix of daylight and artificial lighting and an acoustic that is conducive to study with a material richness appropriate to this programme (Grandorge and Wharry 2014). Imposing but inevitable, the levels of security were to be addressed with invention. This led to a hierarchy of spaces and a layering throughout the building which revolved around the internal courtyard, an element in the building with deeply rooted associations to the structure of the city. Entering from the internal street at ground floor, one is led up to the secure entrance and issue desk located at the first floor. This layer of the building represents an interface between the two building masses in which each have a distinct programme. The lower building was assigned a more administrative role and houses the offices and workspaces required for the general running of the library. The book storage and reading areas have been assigned to the larger building and the differentiation in spaces has been accommodated for through the clarity of the spaces’ articulation. Several routes unfold upon entering the library and an internal landscape presents itself before the visitor. The courtyard serves as an artefact allowing one to navigate freely through this plateau of books, desks and shelves. The book stacks serve as a transitory space before emerging into the reading areas and a principle staircase allows movement in a vertical direction through the several layers of the library. The 67
spatial characteristics of each layer range in configuration and also lighting characteristics. At the first floor the reading areas are more introverted allowing personal engagement with the books whilst framing particular elements of the site such as the party wall, the bridge and the river through openings in the building’s structure. Ascending the staircase along the courtyard, the second floor allows for a more social programme. The reading areas are more open whilst the windows at this level were planned as strip openings revealing an entire panorama of the city. The main reading room which is a double height space looks out onto the river Spree and celebrates the city as a canvas upon which life can manifest itself. From this level it is also possible to emerge onto a roof terrace through a winter garden which allows for reflection on the relationship between ground and sky. Lastly, the third and final level accommodates the archive. A sacred space for the most precious books housed in the building. Accessibility is limited and the conditions with the room are highly controlled. One arrives to this section of the library through a processional flight along the staircase which is characterised by instances and glimpses of the building’s interior landscape. An internal gallery over looks the main reading room whilst skylights allow light to penetrate this space and illuminate the desk areas. This spatial richness of the archive culminates with a large window which overlooks that back street along the party wall as a gesture to Curvrystrasse’s previous murals by the artist Blu.
68
Right: First floor plan (scale 1:500). Includes secure entrance, administration and offices, reading and book storage areas. Bottom left: Second floor plan (scale 1:500). Main reading room, winter garden and roof terrace. Bottom right: Third floor plan showing archive and gallery overlooking reading room at floor below.
69
Top: A layering of spaces, section AA (scale 1:200). Note central courtyard with staircase, internal street at ground floor and double height reading room at the second floor. 70
71
Top and right: Sectional model representations of library and archive at 1:50 in MDF and Birch plywood. Photos: David Grandorge. 72
73
Top: Model of archive reading room at scale 1:50 in MDF and Birch plywood. Photo: David Grandorge. Bottom: Reading room at first floor with picture window framing Oberbaum bridge. Right: Sectional model representation of library main reading room at scale 1:50 in MDF and Birch plywood. Photo: David Grandorge.
74
75
The facade as a face to the city The facade is the building’s face to the city and it holds the power to contribute to public space. Attempts in previous architectures can be found where attempts to affect people’s perceptions and emotions when walking passed them were the core of their constructions. This idea that facades can hold meanings and engage with their surroundings is something that translates into a form of contribution to the construction of a city. With the invention of the Maison Dom-ino and its open plan structure the wall started to be neglected in favour of a quest for transparency and glass facades. In opposition to contemporary buildings, masonry walls have the capacity to hold the primary role of façades, which is to define a clear distinction between exterior and interior. It also allows more depth where details, ornaments, textures, relief and proportions serve to affect your senses when chosen with care and meaning. Vinh Linh (2014) Through an act of curation the facade may develop a depth and richness to the building which is representative of the social and cultural values of the city. The facade for the library and archive necessitated a gentle approach in order not to destroy or damage an already existing city landscape. Conversely, the intention was to enhance this cityscape, as a testimony to its history and memory. Peculiarities and traces of the past have been absorbed into the facade of the building through a process of negotiation and acceptance with its physical context. With a clear understanding of the programme within the building together with an assessment of the site and its qualities design research for the facades was carried out. Pre-cast concrete columns and sandwich panels were proposed for the construction of the 76
Right: Development sketches for the external architectural expression of the Library and archive building. 77
facade elements. At ground floor the columns hold up the library and archive allowing for openness to emerge whilst also symbolising an elevation of the books like a sculpture sits on a pedestal. The upper elements of the facade are structural sandwich panels which hold up the overlying facade elements together with the internal floor slabs. The variations in the dimensions and relief of the pre-cast panels resulted in a richness of proportions and depth. The windows of the facade represent the connection of the interior with the exterior and allow for a conversation to begin between the people inside the building and the city. Critical points along the first floor facade were identified and pre-cast elements were left out leaving openings to allow for instances of the city to be framed within the space. The second floor elements differ to those below. The facade elements surrounding the main reading room adopt a deeper relief and are representative of its double height space, thus reflecting the interior spatial qualities on the exterior of the edifice. Lastly, it was intended for the concrete to adopt a red pigment as a representation of the sophistication of the contents within the library. The deep red tones are reminiscent of the vernacular architecture which surrounds the site. This was a gesture of connecting to past architectures whilst undergoing a translation through contemporary construction methods. It speaks a language that is local yet it embeds itself in the wider universal realm of architecture.
78
Top: Rendered elevation scale 1:500 79
Both pages: North facing facade along the river Spree. Model in MDF and Birch plywood. Scale 1:50. Photos: David Grandorge. 80
81
Above: South elevation of facade facing street along party wall. Note the change in articulation of the facade, from an open frame structure housing the offices and administrative functions to the solid panellised library building with a minimum number of windows. Right: Model in MDF and Birch plywood. Scale 1:50 Photo: David Grandorge 82
83
84
85
References Books and articles Beigel, F. and Christou, P. (2010) Architecture as City: Saemangeum Island City. Vienna: Springer Verlag. Blundell Jones, P. (1995) Hans Scharoun. London: Phaidon. Chaplin, S. and Stara, A. (eds.) (2009) Curating Architecture and the City. London, New York: Routledge. Flam, J. (1996). (Ed.) ‘What is a museum? A dialogue between Allan Kaprow and Robert Smithson’. In: Robert Smithson: The Collected Writings: p.44. CA: University of California Press, Frampton, K. (1983) ‘Towards a Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance’. In: Foster, H. (ed.) The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays on Postmodern Culture. Port Townsen: Bay Press. Gabrielsson, C. (2009) ‘The necessity of distance’. In: Chaplin, S. and Stara, A. (eds.) Curating Architecure and the City. London/New York: Routledge. Grandorge, D. and Wharry, C. (2014) Going To Town II: Project Brief 1.6. Unpublished document. 11th December. Unit 7, The Cass Faculty for Art, Architecture and Design, London Metropolitan University, UK. Greenhalgh, L., Warpole, K. and Landry, C. (1995) Libraries in a World of Cultural Change. London: UCL Press.
86
Henke, L. (2014) Why we painted over Berlin’s most famous graffiti. The Guardian. [online] 19th December. Available from: http://www.theguardian. com. [Accessed: 11th August 2015]. Lobell, J. (1979) Between Silence and Light: Spirit in the architecture of Louis I. Kahn. Boston: Shambala Publications. Shields, J.A.E. (2014). Collage and Architecture. Abingdon, New York: Routledge. Smithson, A. and Smithson, P. (2002) The Charged Void: Architecture. New York: Monacelli Press. Schmidt, M., Frecot, J., & Eskildsen, U. (2005) Berlin nach 45. GoĚˆttingen: Steidl u Eskildsen. Linh, V. (2014) On Gothic. Unpublished dissertation. The Cass, Faculty for Art, Architecture and design, London Metropolitan University, Uk. Warpole, K. (2013) Contemporary Library Architecture: A planning design guide. London: Routledge. Wiggins, G.E. (1997) Louis I. Kahn: The library at Philips Exeter Academy. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold. Films Resnais, A. (1956). Tout la memoire du monde. [online]. Available: http://www.youtube.com. [Accessed: 1st August 2015].
87
88
Acknowledgements First of all I wish to thank my tutors Prof. Philip Christou and Prof. Florian Beigel for their guidance and support throughout the year as well as their supervision during the production of this thesis. Attending the Cass School of Architecture has been an inspiring and enriching experience throughout which I was exposed to an array of opportunities which allowed me to broaden my perspective and further my understanding on architecture and its associated disciplines such as art and photography. This would have not been possible without the help of the Unit 7 tutors, David Grandorge and Colin Wharry. I must also thank the students with whom I spent most of the year. From the infinite hours spent in the studio and workshops to the moments shared in the streets of Berlin and London. I’m grateful to those who were always willing to share their ideas and opinions as they were instrumental to the outcome of my work. I’d like to thank my family and friends for their support throughout the year, especially the most recent member in our family, my nephew Oliver George. Lastly, a special thank you to Louisa Buhagiar who withstanding all the challenges we faced throughout the year, you were a great source of encouragement and guidance. Your patience during times of increased pressure was infinitely appreciated.
89