Meet… the Smithsons

March 12, 2009

So, I though, and finally came around, to starting a little series on my favourite architects, my heroes, so to speak. This is the very first piece, and there will be many more to come.

The Smithsons are probably my first architectural love-affair. In the first year of uni, I briefly had a thing with Mies, but that went away rather quickly, because Mies is bit of a craftsman-builder. I mean, he built, and all of it great, but apart from that…

I don’t know how I came across the Smithsons, it must have been reading, though when I contemplate it, their secondary school is something that I remember seeing a picture of when I was still in high school.

The work of Alison and Peter Smithson (that’s right, they were married) will, to someone with little architectural background, seem ugly, disturbing, grim, flawed and some might even say brutal. That last one would actually be correct, the Smithsons helped launch a movement called “the New Brutalism”, which they described as ‘having nothing to do with craft, but with peasant dwelling forms’ and ‘architecture is the direct result of a way of life’. Those of you who wonder what this would look like need think of exposure of elements, material, structure, etc. This, however would be missing the point. The brutalist tried to capture the “-ness” of life, times, environment and, yes, the materials.

But the Smithsons’ buildings cannot be understood without reading. The Smithsons have produced more writing than building, and rather than writing about how to make good (-looking) buildings, they wrote of how the society evolves, becomes more mobile, how the city needs to adapt, how humans need new structures in their lives as the existing ones cannot fulfill their function properly anymore. About how the welfare state frees and ultimately enslaves the individual, about how cities grow and how they always respect the site where their designs stand (opposing the notion of tabula rasa).

Here, I will show pictures of four of their projects. The first one, the Modern Secondary School in Hunstanton (1949-1954). All the materials and fittings were exposed. The water tanks, usually hidden, were emphasized by making a water tower. A brutalist way of doing Mies… BTW; it’s listed.

Smithdon High School, Hunstanton by Xavier de Jauréguiberry.

Photo by Xavier de Jauréguiberry, from http://www.flickr.com/photos/25831000@N08/3007464931/in/photostream/

After their initial success, they became involved in CIAM (International Congress of Modern Architecture), which they helped to disband, and with some new friends (whom they met at CIAM meetings), they formed an informal group called Team 10. Team 10 discussed the problems and soluyions for contemporary architecture. Team 10 formed in 1955 and effectively ceased after 1981.

In 1960, they received another major commission, this time for he Economist building in London. They did a fine job, and it turned out to be one of the few buildings that people other than  architects actually liked. You can do the research on the internet yourself.

Another building, which is  not as famous, but which should be mentioned is the Garden Pavilion in Oxford (1967). Even though it’s brutalist, it looks great with all the greenery around it. Just as the moderns have always intended. Someone once commented that it looks OK now that there’s a big tree in the way, but beware! The tree was always there, even before the garden pavilion was built. This shows the respect that the architects gave the site, and is one of the basic principles of brutalism, using “found objects”.

Another building, this time unloved, is the Robin Hood Gardens (1972) complex. The intention was to create a quiet, stress-free zone where the inhabitants would meet and relax and where children could play. The flats were reached by wide access galleries, aka “streets-in-the-sky/air”. This was meant to provide a new space for encounters and encourage neighborly behavior. Due to poor construction, choice of materials and choice of tenants, the utopia of tomorrow became the dystopia of today. Look at it and you’ll know why.

Robin Hood 01.jpg by joseph beuys hat.

Photo by joseph beuys hat, http://www.flickr.com/photos/joseph_beuys_hat/108684621/in/set-72057594076169228/

In the 1980s, the Smithsons expanded their writing and teaching activities. They developed their ideas and received some commissions by the Bath university. Their last realized project was re-building of a house for a rich German client (1986-2001). This house, known as Hexenhaus, is their most soft and humane, but nonetheless radical and modern work. It contemplates man’s (and his cat’s) place in the nature, and the notion of openness and protection.

The Smithsons can be despised for just one thing: ugly buildings. This is a subjective comment, but what no-one can deny is the firmness of their conviction, their intellectual avant-gardist position, their consistence and their dedication to the Modern Movement. These were e architects who launched Britain, for better of for worse, fully into the modern era. Their ideas, opinions and projects are still relevant, even if we sometimes use them as ‘this-is-how-things-should-not-be-done’ example. Their little things are the big things.

So, if you are interested, intrigued or disgusted, but you still want to know more (like I did), just google these projects:

The Coventry Cathedral Competition (1951)

The House of the Future (1956)

The Sugden House (1956)

The Upper Lawn Pavilion at Fonthill (own holiday retreat)

For those with really strong stomachs Look up the Berlin Haupstadt competition entry (1958) and the Kuwait Mat Building Proposal (1968-72).

If you get a chance, go to your local library and see whether they have the book “Peter Smithson: Conversations with Students” . There is a lovely project in there called the Put-Away Villa.

If you find the English brutalists as grim and sombre as their ‘monstrous carbuncles’, join me next time, I’ll do a smaller piece on the Charles and Ray Eames who worked in sunny California.

Peace out!

Peter


Oh, Bernie!

March 11, 2009

Everything else aside, this time I want to direct my amazement at the media. I do like the media, their subjectivity, their taking sides and their reporting on the most news-unworthy events. Obama’s dog on CNN and BBC, seriously? This is the stuff that should be picked up by People or worse tabloids. Media stereotypes aside, there is one serious issue here, which I want to bring to everyone’s attention.

That is the question of the affectionately called “Bernie” Madoff. I shall not comment on what he did/did not do, but I have have this question? Bernie? WTF? As in… why do we call him “Bernie”? Why not Bernard? You do NOT call someone in an affactionate manner if they are suspected (and as far as I know also willing to admit) of commiting the biggest FRAUD ever? You rarely call a caught villain in an affectionate manner, with the obvious exceprtion of “Voldy” on the miscellaneous Harry Potter websites. Take a name of a random real-life villain and put -ie after their name? It sound ridiculous and good fun. But this is the sort of thing that the tabloids should put in their headlines, like “BERNIE SCREWED US OVER”. BBC and CNN should either say Madoff or Bernard Madoff. In this way, the big-bad-wolfie does not become the victim-ie, and when it turns out that the prerson is innocent, no harm is done.

HA! Take this, liberal media! (Or whoever is in the charge of media at this moment in time) So, once again, I have picked up on my tradition (which I felt was lost, but thankfully it ain’t) of writing stuff that has both little sense and little relevance. Go Peter!!! Oh yeah!! Uh-huh!! (Repeat until the routine becomes annoying).

Peter


Reading (as in books)

March 8, 2009

Reading has, as we all know, has two meanings. Reading is a town in England, and it is also the present participle of the verb ‘to read’.

While I am sure that Reading is a lovely town (it seems so on Wikipedia), this little filler piece is all about the things I’ve read since the beginning of the academic year. I will not include the literature that is compulsory, because that’s not something that you want to rad, you have no other choice.

What I’ve read since August:

  • The War with The Newts (Karel Capek)
  • Charged Void: Architecture (Alison and Peter Smithson)
  • The Shift (Alison and Peter Smithson)
  • Urban Structuring (Alison and Peter Smithson)
  • Life and Death of Great American Cities (Jane Jacobs)
  • Team 10, 1953-1981: In Search of a Utopia of the Present
  • Hercule Poirot’s Christmas (Agatha Christie)
  • Dead Man’s Folly (Agatha Christie)
  • A&P Smithson: Works and projects
  • Complex Ordinariness
  • Peter Smithson: Conversations with Students
  • Rem Koolhaas: Conversations with Students
  • Eames (Gloria Koenig)
  • The New Brutalism: Ethic or Aesthetic (Rayner Banham)
  • Lina Bo Bardi
  • Modern Architecture in Czechoslovakia (Karel Teige) – Not finished yet
  • Quinlan Terry: Architectural Monographs No 27
  • Modernism without Rhetoric

I was hoping that reading lots and lots of book will help me take a well thought-out position in architecture. I’ll write more on that later, when the time is right. In the meantime, I hope I’ll read lots and lots more. It might not make me the best architect, but I will sure know more than any of you, hahaha. As for Agatha Christie, what can I say, I simply love her Poirot novels.

My first architectural book was Delirious New York by Rem Koolhaas, which I already read last year. It’s a great book, and I recommend it to anyone, even if rchitecture is not necessarily your cup of tea. I enjoyed reading all of the books, even thogh some of them are alittle distubing; especially the monograph about Quinlan Terry.

Well, I guess that explains why I don’t write as often or as well.

Peter S.


The Sketch Mafia

March 3, 2009

Here is a little piece which I would have submitted to the FORUM section of B_Nieuws had we not gotten two rather long and well-written ones. In comparison, my piece would have been somewhat lame (and tame). But here it is, just for you guys (and girls).

Working in the amazing B_Nieuws press team has its advantages, one of them being that you pretty much know the news and topics for the upcoming few months, and this makes contributions to forum marginally more topical.

Now to the point: I seem to notice that our education, certainly in these early Bachelor’s years is being controlled by the Sketch Mafia.  Every single time you want to express yourself, your educator looks you in the eye and whispers dramatically: ‘Sketch it!’ Analysis, ideas, rules, almost everything needs to be sketched.

On one hand, I agree that sketching and drawing must be one of the very essential media of communication between architects, urban planners, engineers and the public. And while we’ll all be experts in sketching, some of the best architectural ideas are sold by a combination of text and drawings. Thus, while one essential skill is being nurtured (or thrust upon us?), another is being neglected. I’m not claiming that I’m an expert, but consider a passage such as this:

‘Arab cities are full of building, started and never finished, and finished and then abandoned… Still existing in the simple Arab town, an interchangeability in which the neutral cube contains a cell which can change; from home to workshop; green-grocery to a paraffin store; an alley of houses in whose midst is a baker, made into a Souk by simple expedient of adding pieces of fabric over the public way’

From “How to read and recognize MAT-building”, Architectural Design, 1974

With this elegantly written passage, Alison Smithson tries to capture an image of a pre-modern Arab town and show the very characteristics that appealed to her. A simple sketch would not do. While a picture is worth a thousand words, a masterfully written text is equally evocative, yet subtler, giving way to personal nuances in interpretation. This is why a piece of text can appeal to more people than a sketch or a drawing depicting the same idea.

Not all great architects are great writers, but many are. We at least should mention Rem Koolhaas’s Delirious New York, or some passages from Le Corbusier’s books, in which his urban plans and their images, now so often associated with dystopia, are made to sound incredibly seductive due to the author’s masterful command of the written word.

In my humble opinion, students should be allowed to use both drawing and written word to express their ideas. These methods of communication should not be treated as mutually exclusive, but as parts of a coherent whole.

Peter S