25 March 2009

Snake + Highway = Autobahnüberbauung

Images: Georg Heinrich's Autobahnüberbauung in Wilmersdorf, Berlin
I visited some days ago one of these buildings which carry a sort of heroism in their aesthetics and design: it holds a very strong and, almost, paranoiac Zeitgeist.

The “Autobahnüberbauung” (building over the highway), called also “Schlange” (snake) was designed by Georg Heinrichs (born 1926) from 1971 on, and built between 1976 and 1982: the name is no cheat, it is really an extruded pyramidal structure of 570 meters in length housing around 5.000 people built over the existing highway in Berlin’s Wilmersdorf district. Heinrichs (who was raised in an apartment by Bruno Taut and learned the profession with Alvar Aalto) under the influence of megastructural thinking was able to design (and build, even after strong citizen’s opposition) something that I consider totally heroic: the building does not seem out of human scale, mainly due to the terraces growing gradually, and the Snake, compared with the surrounding is not so strident as one could think.

It is surprising the difference between the lateral, greenly side of the building and its impact from the highway: no signal of cars trespassing the structure, nothing that could suggest a high speed, noisy connection when one walks along the pedestrian ways. With such a scale and idea the risk of building an enormous monster was very high, and very easy to achieve this result. The Autobahnüberbauung holds the kind of complexity that prevents boredom but is still easily understandable: considered as it is, 1980’s social housing built over a highway, the result is somehow great. I did not have the opportunity to visit an apartment, but as far as I know as I’ve read people is quite satisfied about their “accommodation” and the investor considered the Snake a commercial success.


Heinrichs was also eventually supposed to design another similar structure in Berlin-Wedding, and this time he tried lightweight construction: anyway this second project did not have so much fortune.

All this reminds me the project Fiber City, Tokyio 2050 by Hidetoshi Ohno, connected with the Shrinking Cities research, in which basically infrastructure and structure are concentrated along communication ways (in this case mainly railways), and of course Le Corbu’s 1930 plan for Algiers.

Some more pics of the Snake here.

23 March 2009

Vers Westhafen

Westhafen's grain store

While rereading in these day Vers Une Architecture finding again this book a fascinating, inconceivable mixture of naiveté and totalitarianism, I could not resist to take some pictures at the grain store which I can see out of my window.

Westhafen (west harbor) is the biggest harbor of Berlin, situated at the connection between the Spree and the Havel: the main plan dates 1923 and the grain stores were designed by german architect Richard Wolffenstein; after WWII activities in Westhafen dropped down, till the almost complete inactivity of todays.

American grain store and elevators, from Le Corbu's Vers Une Architecture

From 1997 the Staatsbibliothek (state library) placed in the main historical building its magazine and newspapers section.

14 March 2009

Architecture stripped of its ornate garment


I post today a recent article of Zvi Hecker, already published in some architectural magazines and journals, which I translated in italian here.


The continuous unfolding of the world economic crisis not only inflicts hardship on the personal wellbeing of individuals and societies, but will inevitably create radical shifts in our aesthetic sensibility.
Taken unguarded by the collapse of the world stock markets and the demise of financial institutions, we should not be surprised by the deepening of the moral-ethical breakdown that generated this economical crisis in the first place.
The erosion of the moral-ethical standards caused by the decline of personal responsibility and institutionalized social inequality and injustice may prove to be more destructive than a military force. History’s graveyards carry the names of great military powers that ran their course and disintegrated into a total break down of their political structures, even before their legions reached the battlefield. Rebuilding the moral-ethical foundations that have been undermined in the present crisis will be more laborious and will take longer than to arouse the appetite of the panic-stricken credit-financed consumerism.

Architecture, while embracing the human dimension constitutes an integral part of the economic landscape. It therefore can’t be absolved from the moral-ethical dimension of the present crisis, nor is it immune from the fallout of the economic slowdown and the appearance of a new aesthetic perception. For more than a decade architecture sucked-in cheap and abstract money that was channelled to fuel an excess of building construction, resulting in the infamous sub-prime mortgage meltdown. Abstract projects solidified into Architectural form, and, sponsored by oil and stock market wealth, were "grounded" in the most socially unjust locations and in the most environmentally wasteful ways. Real-estate, disguised as Architecture, falsely credited with sustainability, turned out to become the profitable terrain-for-surplus capital, absorbing into its ever more elaborate shapes money that could have been invested otherwise.
The more obscure and environmentally irresponsible were the financial investments – the more excessive became the Architectural form. In its most extreme version the Architecture’s mere existence became its function, just as the inflated growth of the financial market became its only raison d'être. Architecture, like the world at large, turned a blind eye to global poverty and enduring conflicts. Equally indifferent to ethics, Architecture preferred instead to glorify the zeal and the leverage of the financial wizardry. Draped in layers of ornate garments, glamorous and decorative, it carefully disguised its narcissistic genesis.
Strangely enough, this self-referential Architecture of negligible conceptual depth was embraced as long overdue evidence of the multifarious talents of the Architect. Long said to be inhibited from expressing his talent, the enterprising practitioner responded eagerly to overseas requests for colonial patronage to adorn repressive regimes with warmed-over-architectural images. Obsessed solely with maximum visibility, Architecture relied on the image of the "Architect as Artist" committed only to his or her inner fantasies and desires, "Architect as Designer" engaged in designing clothes, fashion collections, ashtrays and carry bags, and "Architect as Entertainer" staging pseudo intellectual spectacles.

No longer required to follow the rules of logic, coherence and clarity of the plan, the "Architect as Architect" became rapidly irrelevant. This may explain why in recent years so very few significantly innovative designs emerged in Architecture's core fields of engagement: solutions for housing, urban design, and integration of the socially deprived, subjects which were the bedrock of the Modern Movement.
Denied any incentive to explore and innovate, the Architect thrived on the work of earlier generations in a kind of parasitic subsistence. Old architectural schemes and banal off-the-shelf plans were hastily recycled and wrapped within a dress of different materials, glass at the top of the list. To broaden its appeal, glass elevations were belligerently promoted as being ecologically sustainable and environmentally friendly. Heavily dependent on sophisticated high-tech for its functioning and maintenance, the environmental claims were never confronted nor seriously contested. However, paradoxically, this all-glass Architecture found its partner and prey in the world of banking and international business. With its claim for the virtues of transparency, glass Architecture offered respectability and supplied the best possible alibi for the murky transactions it wrapped so elegantly. In today’s crisis the glass alibi might be short-lived and insufficient in restoring the vanished trust in the operations of business.

Even Berlin, not yet carried away by the hysteria of capitalist development, yielded to the pressure of historians promoting architectural nostalgia in disregard of the legacy of radical modernism that the city harbours so proudly. Berlin’s pseudo-aristocratic genealogy will be rightfully restored by rebuilding fake elevations of the eighteenth century castle. Of no great architectural merit in its original version, the fake replica of the castle will become a farce. The ultimate irony is however that the Berlin of today is unable to distinguish between stylistic novelty and true originality, thereby excluding any possibility for a refined masterpiece to be recognized and welcomed. Essentially, every economic crisis not only breaks with the immediate past but provides moments of accelerated change, an opportunity to transgress the present status quo and to leave a contemporary footprint.
The crisis of the late 1920s and the Great Depression that followed was such an intense force that it wiped out the ostentatious ornament of late nineteenth century classicism. White, plain and undecorated, the emerging Architecture was a clear break with the past and was total anathema to that which it replaced.
The underlying roots of the two crises, though eighty years apart, stem from a soil contaminated by the level of dishonesty to which financial institutions had sunk.
A moral-ethical position will be needed to put into motion creative forces that were silenced by the wide spread decadence. A natural change of our aesthetic perception will follow.
The inevitable slowdown of building construction and the emergence of another aesthetic reality will provide a fertile ground for the germination of new ideas. They will be conceptualized, developed and codified, like musical notes, through architectural plans, built years later when the economy picks up again.
Architectural form is a reflected image of the idea that inhabits the plan. Hierarchies of human scale is its measure, and clarity of intention its means of to beauty. It unites needs and dreams into ever new aesthetic sensibilities. This inseparable duality is what makes Architecture such a uniquely profound profession.
Centuries of creative commitment and the endowment of new ideas generated a rich architectural tradition. It is entrusted upon us on the condition that our own generation will enrich and broaden the horizons of this great heritage.
In our ever-changing world, Architecture’s eternal relevance lays in its degree of idealism and its responsibility to alleviate the contemporaneity of the human condition. New ideas are the sole means of its attainment.

Architecture is a human art, never humane enough.

Zvi Hecker
January 2009

01 March 2009

Red, Black, Green, (Black)

De Nachtwacht (The Night Watch), Rembrandt, 1642, Oil on canvas, 363 × 437 cm, 142.9 × 172.0 in, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

The Italian Government (or what is remaining of it), following the coherent strategy to increase the perception of fear and danger to justify its authoritarian policies, is recently concerned with self-organized patrolling by citizens, making a law-proposal (still under discussion) containing two simple conditions to regulate this matter. This kind of watchmen corps should (for the moment) not be armed, and should be composed preferably of former professional guards.

Looking back in history, the Romans were the first who institutionalized security corpses and turned them into a professional organization, creating the Guardie Pretoriane and the Vigiles, and up until now in the Rechtsstaat, control and security are hold by power-structures superior to single individuals or self-organized actions. The interaction between citizens and police can be in some situations a desirable target, but in this case we face a completely reactionary and dangerous turn.

More or less unofficially sponsored by the right-wing, xenophobe party of Lega Nord, this security measure seems not only propaganda, but something more destructive; let’s have a look again through the pages of italian history: first came the Camicie Rosse (Redshirts), volunteers held by Giuseppe Garibaldi, who in 1860 unified the peninsula; then things started to go tougher, and the color of shirts became fascist black, Camicie Nere being a violent paramilitary organization fundamental for the Fascist Regime to gain and maintain a strong control over the italian territory and italian people. Now the tint faded into green, symbol of the so-called Padania territory concerned with secessionist trends. But in Italy today the risk of a new darkening of clothes is very high. Have a look at this (in italian).


References: "Land of Plenty", Wim Wenders, 2004