My Architectural Design Themes

Over the past semester I have spent considerable time thinking about what my personal design tastes and principles are.  While they are most certainly still growing as I learn and explore, there are a few things I have come to know about myself.  Some of these are obvious and predictable, while others are less tangible ideas that I would like to incorporate or find intriguing. 

I am a member of CAP’s “Career Change” Graduate Program.  However, I do not like this term.  I have not “changed” my career.  I am, and always will be a civil engineer.  My professors at Rose-Hulman taught me that, first and foremost, engineers are problem solvers, and problems are not restricted to applied mathematical equations.  Issues present in the built environment include program, materiality, climate, flexibility, longevity, aesthetic, spatiality, etc.  There are innumerable obstacles to overcome, and I am learning to be a designer now so that I can better overcome them.  Becoming an architect has allowed me to get an entirely new perspective on how to approach problems, and the many ways design can influence people’s lives for the better.

Flexibility in design has been a big motivator for me.  I enjoy thinking about elements in my architecture that can serve multiple purposes, is mobile, or can be adjusted easily to accommodate various programmatic needs.  I hadn’t realized it until Harry pointed it out to me in studio, but I design very much around program, and it is likely because of my background.  I like things to function well, and if a building does not serve its function, it is a failure.  This naturally progressed to promoting flexibility, as it can improve the programmatic feel of a building through clever engineering and design.  I think studying Kenzo Tange for my research paper was very enlightening for me; I did a great deal of reading just about Tange’s design principles, and I found myself agreeing with a great many of them.  I really do not like megastructures, but that was just Tange’s own application of his principles.  That was largely how he viewed flexible design.  I like a subtler approach, but I definitely appreciate his motivations. 

Another architect whose body of work I greatly admire is Mies van der Rohe.  I find his structure to be beautiful in its relative simplicity.  I find structure to be fascinating in and of itself, and would like to learn to be less rigid with my own.  I can efficiently design a steel column bay system, but I want to learn to be more creative with it, so that it is expressed in a unique and integral way so it becomes a part of my architecture, and not simply what holds it up.  I want to incorporate the flexibility I experiment with in other aspects into my structure.  I am attracted to another of Mies’ design elements: the open floor plan.  I’m a big fan of the open floor plan because I want flexibility to apply to my program, too.  I like including as few interior walls as I can, and trying to divide spaces visually rather than physically wherever possible.  I find this allows for certain programmatic requirements and order, but also allows the order to be broken down when necessary, and for spaces to converge upon each other for multiple functions.

A Discussion of the “Open” Floor Plan: Examining the Works of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Alvar Aalto

As modern architecture developed, the prominent architects of the day sought not only to establish their own style of design, but to establish the modern style of design.  Men such as Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Alvar Aalto experimented with new materials and techniques, attempting to define the age in such a way as Gothic architecture once did.  In their own manner, both men began venturing into the realm of the “open” floor plan, a relatively new and largely untested characteristic of approaching structure.

Mies van der Rohe was very attracted to the De Stijl movement’s insistence upon simplicity, functionality, and linearity, as well as their embrace of the “machine.”  These philosophies continued to express themselves in his work as Mies became the final director of the Bauhaus, before he was forced to shut it down due to pressure from the Nazi party.  Similar to Walter Gropius, the first director of the Bauhaus, Mies believed that rationality should influence the creative process and spirit of design.  Mies’ philosophies towards design were developed during a time when progressive thinkers ached for a new style to call their own, extremely dissatisfied with the superficiality of the immediate post-World War I era.  They called for the expression of modern materials and rational problem solving, and did not like the mere application of classical facades to the front of a building that was not otherwise classical. 

Mies subscribed first and foremost to the idea that “less is more.”  He called his approach to design “skin and bones” architecture, because he heavily invested in the use of materials such as steel and glass, allowing him to create a building that was functionally skeletal.  He used steel members for the “bones” of his structure, providing his buildings with great strength over large distances.  In turn, this permitted the interiors to open up into wide, accessible spaces, freeing them from load bearing walls and other partitioning demands.  His liberal use of glazing on the exterior facades served to further open his interior spaces, giving them the appearance of vastness by connecting them to the outside.  Instead of rooms, Mies liked the idea of creating spaces and sub-spaces within them in which to serve their necessary and functional purposes, giving his interiors a flexibility which is lost within the rigidity of a building divided into distinct rooms.  To use another of Mies’ aphorisms, he believed “God is in the details;” Gothic architecture was an expression of harmony during an era of spirituality, and Mies strove to create an architecture that was expressive of a rational era, and that therefore every element must unite in a configuration that contributed to the design as a whole.

Mies van der Rohe's Crown Hall, suspended entirely by the large steel columns and girders on the exterior.

Crown Hall is viewed as one of the greatest of Mies’ many achievements.  Pure, in its simplistic rectangular form, the interior of the building is completely column-free.  It is a two story building, featuring a sunken lower floor subdivided into classrooms, wholly enclosed by a façade of glazing divided by steel.  The most prominent characteristic of the building are the eight large steel columns on the exterior of the building, holding four massive steel girders extending across the shorter span of the structure.  It is from these girders that the entire building is suspended, allowing the main floor interior to remain unobstructed.  The aesthetic appeal comes entirely from its simplicity, as it essentially consists solely of steel structural members and glazing panels of various transparencies, articulating a harmony of creative and industrial feelings.

The interior of Mies' Crown Hall, open entirely on the main floor to create an expansive studio space.

Alvar Aalto also experimented with open plans, but approached the idea from a very different angle than Mies van der Rohe did.  Aalto’s design style originated from a much more humanistic philosophy, rather than a strictly functional one.  Whereas Mies desired to create a defining style for modernism, emphasizing modern ideas, modern techniques, and modern materials, Aalto was more concerned with using them in a cohesive manner to create an environment in which the modern man could reside happily and work comfortably.  Instead of simplistic rigidity, Aalto employed warm colors, curvilinear features, and natural materials to achieve this.  He sought to promote the mood, atmosphere, and intensity of life.  To achieve this freedom, Aalto would begin his designs without the use of precise tools.  He would sketch freehand, not concerning himself with details right away.  He would focus on designing to the style of each site, creating complex and interwoven forms using various materials.  Through the resulting volumes he would then develop spaces, utilize windows to introduce desirable views, and suggest a feeling of motion, which he thought were anthropomorphic qualities.  To further advance his flexible spaces he would instill a great deal of daylight, and devise ways in which to allow wind and natural ventilation to improve the natural feeling.  His overarching goal was to integrate the natural and the artificial.  In opposition to architects such as Le Corbusier, Aalto felt that “Nature not the machine should serve as the model for architecture,” because “Architecture cannot disengage itself from natural and human factors, on the contrary it must never do so.  Its function is to bring nature closer to us.”  Aalto used his open, flowing spaces to promote this philosophy.

Alvar Aalto's Villa Mairea, his first major departure from strict modernist style.

The Villa Mairea is a significant work of Aalto’s because it is one of the first of his buildings that allowed him to transition into his acutely developed philosophy of humanism.  The owners were wealthy and desired a rural retreat, and therefore entreated Aalto to feel free to experiment.  They inspired him to diverge from the fairly rigid structure of more typical modernism.  The result is a transformation of materiality, advancement of technology, and a theme of varying experience.  He transitions from an exterior space comprised of stone and grass to an interior space comprised severally of steel, glazing, and the more intimate wood and tile.  By creating such transformation throughout the house, Aalto is able to play with the interior/exterior dynamic, blurring the lines between outside and in.  He uses a multitude of thin wooden columns of various sizes throughout the house, keeping spaces open but at the same time, enclosing them like might appear in a natural wooded environment.  He creates spaces that seem to both be open and closed at the same time, using screens and columns to play with daylight allowing them to variously feel expansive and intimate.

An interior view of Villa Mairea, creating a space that is both open and yet intimate.

Another interior view of Villa Mairea; Aalto created an environment in which one could feel tied to both the exterior and interior by allowing one to feel open to nature.

Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ludwig_Mies_van_der_Rohe
http://www.csmonitor.com/Innovation/Tech-Culture/2012/0327/Ludwig-Mies-van-der-Rohe-Father-of-less-is-more-architecture-video
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S._R._Crown_Hall
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alvar_Aalto
http://www.iie.org/en/Offices/New-York/about-alvar-aalto
http://www.alvaraaltoresearch.fi/articles/alvar-aaltos-open-plan-architecture-environmental-technology/#.UWRNt5OsiSo
http://www.archdaily.com/85390/ad-classics-villa-mairea-alvar-aalto/

Characteristics of Architectural Movements: Defining a Framework for Modernism

Modernist architecture has its roots in many of the various movements from the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries.  Something that we learn day to day is the importance of precedent studies, because if we do not understand what came before, we will not be able to build upon it and develop new designs that take advantage of modern ideas.  The core principle of modern architecture is the idea that design must necessarily reflect the times we live in; this means we must apply new techniques, improve upon older ones, utilize new materials, and think creatively and innovatively to solve problems as best we can.  To describe modern architecture, it is easier to provide background on a few of the movements that can still be traced back to today.

The underlying theme of the Arts and Crafts movement, a movement which began in the British Isles, was that workers should be able to take pride in their work.  Good design was considered to be tied directly into good society, which members of the movement felt must push back against industrialization.  Opposed to the harsh and “uncivilized” conditions of factory work, Arts and Crafts sought to exemplify craftsmanship and skill.  Proponents of the movement, such as William Morris and John Ruskin, felt that mass production necessitated shoddy work and wanted to promote individuality and the inherent beauty of finely crafted work.  They felt that design should be for the people, by the people, and bring pleasure to both the consumer and the creator.  Ruskin, an architectural theoretician who I have discussed before, believed in the life and nobility of buildings, and believed this originated from the craftsmen, masons, and other laborers instead of the architects.  Arts and Crafts design tended to be relatively simplistic, rigid, rectilinear, and the process of how pieces were constructed was often still visible, stressing the natural motif associated with the movement.  The phrase “truth to materials” was a credo of this era, describing the importance of materiality to craftsmanship.

Red House, by William Morris, in the Arts and Crafts style.

Art Nouveau responded to “nature” in a different way than Arts and Crafts.  Instead of relying on the truth of materials or handmade craftsmanship, Art Nouveau was inspired by sensual curvilinear forms, such as could be found in flowers and other natural forms.  Although a departure from Arts and Crafts, this style still has ties to Ruskin’s theories.  As I mentioned, Ruskin felt buildings exhibited a life, and using nature to draw upon this life would likely have fit into his vision of ornament and craft.  However, Art Nouveau embraced industrialization, as above all else they wanted to establish new designs and not draw so heavily upon the past.  This movement eschewed the historical forms and insisted on exploring new designs; hyperbolas and “growing” figures were often employed to express the organic feel they desired.  They also desired harmony in materials, and sought to keep a recurring motif existing between all aspects of design, including doors, windows, mouldings, ironwork, etc.  However, there were variations on the movement in other countries.  The Vienna Secessionists, for example, often chose to reduce “superfluous” ornamentation in favor of clean, distinct linear ornamentation only on the surface of their structures.

An entryway, in the style of Art Nouveau, created by architect Alfred Morris.

Amsterdam Expressionism is largely characterized by the construction of decorative structures, like towers.  The shapes these buildings took were very organic, and clad almost entirely in brick with a concrete structure.  This technique allowed the structures to take on an innumerable number of shapes, especially rounded or curvilinear ones, resembling sculptures in their carefully crafted design.  The shapes of the exterior came first and foremost, and often the plans would adapt to fit the shape, whether or not it was functionally practical.  This resulted in many large interior spaces, often opening vertically fairly high.  Ultimately, the goal was to produce an elaborate architectural scheme, both inside and out, that integrated many different building elements, such as decorative masonry, artistic glazing, and wrought ironwork to create the finished “sculpture.”

Het Schip, in Amsterdam.  The sculpture-like quality of the masonry is indicative of Amsterdam Expressionism.

As much as the Arts and Crafts movement wanted to pull back from industrialization, the De Stijl movement wanted to embrace it.  De Stijl sought to incorporate the “machine,” and celebrate the industrial age by creating designs that both encouraged and were inspired by it.  The De Stijl philosophy was an ambitious and idealistic one, focused on functionality and rectilinearity.  Superfluous decorations, colors, and shapes were to be completely excluded; instead, the desire was to create practical forms which seemed to slide into place in a planar manner, emphasizing a refinement and sophistication of concept and technique.

The Schroderhuis, by Gerrit Rietveld.  One of the only houses designed entirely according to principles of the De Stijl movement.

The Bauhaus and other industrial architecture embraced industrialization similar to De Stijl, but not at the expense of hand craft.  It was believed architects and engineers must understand the craft of creation, as well as the ability to mass produce it.  Theoretically, this amalgamation of two schools of thought allows for industrial and future advancement, but not at the expense of craftsmanship and quality.  Of the theoreticians, this likely would have matched many of Eugene Viollet-le-Duc’s philosophies.  Viollet-le-Duc believed in the truth of materials, in advancement and modern techniques, but also believed in the importance of learning from the past.  The core tenet of this era was “form follows function,” emphasizing the need for buildings to promote practicality.

Walter Gropius' Bauhaus, in Germany.  A prime example of industrial architecture, the Bauhaus encapsulates the idea of "form follows function."

In the modern age, we can see elements of all of these movements, and more, in the architecture we see all around us.  While there is not an overarching style tying modernist structures together, there is certainly a theme which could be said unites the many school of thought: the strong desire to improve and innovate.  Architects today must study historical precedents, and learn what worked, what did not, and use these influences as well as our own judgment to discern what we feel is the best step for creating a future.  Pushing the boundaries of design, creating architecture that is simultaneously art and practical, considering the social impact of and on design, pioneering new techniques to increase sustainability – these are the job of the architect today.

Form Follows Function: Otto Wagner and the Art Nouveau Movement

Otto Wagner was born in 1841, and was an Austrian architect and visionary of the Art Nouveau movement.  One of the institutions he studied at was the Academy of Fine Arts, likely leading to the dichotomy between his initial historicist styles and what was to come.  He was trained in traditional design; more specifically he was trained in the manner of bringing the many disparate historical styles together.  However, ultimately he rejected this notion of historic eclecticism in favor of a more elegant simplicity, allowing programmatic and structural concerns to dominate his design efforts instead.  He did not entirely abandon his roots in historicism, but his belief that pragmatism was the key to design led him to forge ahead while drawing analogies to the past.  This modern way of thinking resulted in him becoming a prominent and influential member of Art Nouveau, heralding the era’s theme, “form follows function.” 

Landerbank, one of Wagner’s earlier works, was completed in 1894.  It resembles Renaissance styles as well as a basis for Wagner’s future Art Nouveau designs.

When drawing a conclusion as to who likely had the most influence on Wagner’s style (between theorists John Ruskin, Gottfried Semper, and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc), it is most clearly Semper.  Wagner himself identified Semper as one of his prominent influences, and it shows throughout his designs.  Semper promoted practical aesthetics and minimizing excess such as unnecessary ornamentation.  Some of the ways in which he preached this simplistic, but powerful doctrine were through the use of symmetry, directionality, and proportionality.  He believed that each variable affecting the success of a particular design could be boiled down to its basics, and then implemented in similar ways to achieve similarly successful results.  Wagner was extremely attracted to the sciences, and was likely attracted to the pragmatic and mathematical way Semper approached design.

However, Wagner’s designs also drew upon the tenets of Viollet-le-Duc’s theories as well, consciously or not.  Viollet-le-Duc was not unlike Semper in his rational approach to architecture.  Likewise opposed to florid ornamentation, Viollet-le-Duc believed each design decision should have a reason behind it and that it was important to use modern techniques and materials to express the function and rationale behind each building.  His approach differed from Semper’s, in that he looked to the past for answers.  He did not believe in the denial of past successes, and instead promoted the idea that one should learn from the past.  Designers should be able to draw analogies to past structures, but express them in more practical ways through the use of modern inventions, materials, and techniques.

Wagner’s Majolika Haus, one his most notable works.  Completed in 1898, it clearly demonstrates the structural and geometric simplicity inherent in Art Nouveau, as well as ornamental designs displayed on the façade, which many of his contemporaries disapproved of.

At its heart, Art Nouveau was a push against historic, or archaic, traditions deemed outdated and obsolete by the artists and architects of the movement.  Jugendstil, or “Youth Style” as it was known in Germany, intended to overturn the frivolous use of ornamentation and return to the methods of good craftsmanship.   Academia had dominated artistic expression for centuries, and considered painting and sculpting to be higher forms of art than craftsmanship, which members of the Art Nouveau movement believed to be detrimental to future development.  To modernize design, Art Nouveau enthusiasts rallied to the credo, “form follows function.”  An import facet of the Art Nouveau movement is that it spread rapidly across Europe at the end of the nineteenth century, and then was abandoned nearly as quickly in the early twentieth century.  What makes this such an interesting characteristic is that it was not so much a large collection of people moving as one to create a new style, but rather it was more a concerted effort produced by a variety of individuals in their own separate way, united only in their similar thought processes.  This is important because Wagner, though an influential member of the movement, differed from many of his peers in the way he approached modernity.  Interestingly, his departure from more commonplace Art Nouveau styles was also a departure from the theories of both Semper and Viollet-le-Duc.  Or, perhaps it would be better termed a “modification.”  A common way in which Wagner would draw his parallels to the past resembles Ruskin’s teachings; Ruskin believed ornamentation and good craftsmanship were not mutually exclusive.  Wagner would often modify his designs by decorating his facades in a classical manner.

Wagner’s Karlsplatz Stadtbahn Station, completed in 1899, the result of winning a competition for the city design plans of Vienna.

In 1883, Wagner won first prize (one of two first prizes awarded) for a competition for the “general regulation plan of Vienna.”  His personal motto throughout the Vienna city plan design was “Artis sola domina necessitas.”  This motto, derived straight from the influential Gottfried Semper himself, is Latin for “necessity is the only mistress of art.”  In the end, only Wagner’s railway designs were used in Vienna’s city plans but this success likely strengthened Wagner’s resolve that modern architecture required the embrace of new sciences, materials, and design methods.

Wagner’s Austrian Postal Savings Bank, completed in 1906.

By 1894 he was appointed director of the school of architecture at Vienna’s Academy of Fine Arts, and published his book, “Modern Architecture,” extolling the virtues of moving forward in design, not drawing only on the past.  His revolutionary ideas, and position as professor and director, allowed him to spawn several more visionary minds who continued in his footsteps.  Furthermore, in 1897 Wagner joined the Vienna Secession group.  The Secession group was a collaboration of artists who objected to the pervasive conservatism inherent in academia.  Instead of the historicism venerated by academic institutes such as the Association of Austrian Artists, they insisted not only upon the necessity in exploring more modern artistic concepts, but in the complete and total freedom to explore the possibilities that lay outside of academic tradition.  This desire was encapsulated in their motto, “Der Zeit ihre Kunst. Der Kunst ihre Freiheit" ("To every age its art. To art its freedom.”).  Architects in the Secession, such as Wagner, similarly insisted upon modernity.  These architects often used linear ornamentation on their buildings, believing a purer, simplistic geometry to be more in line with the quest for function over more gaudy displays.  Wagner’s personal marriage of unobtrusive ornamentation with form and function, however, eventually led to a split between Art Nouveau purists and others, like Wagner.

Sources:

Wolf, Justin.  “Art Nouveau.” The Art Story.  TheArtStory.org.  6 February, 2013.  Web.

“Otto Wagner, The Academy of Fine Arts.”  The Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute.  Clarkart.edu.  6 February, 2013.  Web.

“Vision of Modernity.”  Museum Postsparkasse.  Ottowagner.com.  6 February, 2013.  Web.

Photos from www.greatbuildings.com

Architecture, as an art and science

A tenet I believe Viollet-le-Duc, Ruskin, and Semper would all agree on is that the role of architecture in the modern day must be defined.  It makes sense that these men would want to clarify the intent of architecture, because by facilitating an awareness of purpose they hoped to guide others in the correct direction for future development.  It would be a new birth for architects everywhere, no longer having to rely on instinct or creativity alone.  Once something has been quantified and characterized wholly, surely it can be used more effectively.  Beyond this simple point, however, these three great architectural theorists would be unlikely to ever conclude what role it is, precisely, that architecture must play.

Viollet-le-Duc believed in the principle of rationality above all else, as described in his treatise Dictionnaire.  In his mind, if a piece of architecture could be described positively, it must have inherent qualities which can be observed.  If these qualities can be observed, they can therefore be rationalized, dissected, analyzed, and then used in the same manner in the future to consistently achieve the same, beneficial results.  He wanted to logically interpret the idea of personal preference.  He studied in great detail the works of Gothic architecture, and believed he could use elements of these structures to unequivocally prove why they were superior.  Then, using his basis for rationality, these elements could be reduced through analysis to their base parts, and an analogy could be drawn to them using modern technologies.  Using new materials such as iron, Viollet-le-Duc wanted to transform architecture by finding the right parallels in the successes throughout the history of architecture. 

Similarly, Semper attempted to reduce the broad spectrum of architecture to a mathematical formula.  This formula, U = C ( x , y , z , t , v , w … ), contained a vast array of variables in which they would be quantified, simplified, and reduced to the result, U, the “work of art.”  Each variable accounted for various factors affecting a piece of architecture, such as purpose, materiality, climate, topography, etc.  Where Semper differed from Viollet-le-Duc in his attempt to scientifically define architecture is in his approach.  While Viollet-le-Duc would analyze existing architecture in order to determine why it was successful and try to draw an analogy between it and the future of architecture, Semper wanted to try and nail down every possible internal or external influence to explain its success.  His equation would then attempt to follow “successful” patterns when creating new works.  A major failure in this line of thought is the inability to truly determine every variable.  Without the ability to account for each variable, the pseudo-mathematical function cannot stand.

Ruskin’s theories were a larger departure from the attempt of Viollet-le-Duc and Semper to scientifically analyze architecture.  He referred to the Seven Lamps as guidelines, and these lamps were a personal metric for determining the virtue of a structure.  Ruskin was more concerned with the nobility, life, nature, and glory of buildings.  Additionally, he felt that most of these qualities were ultimately provided by the craftsmen who constructed such wonders, not the architect.  Craftsmen, such as masons, would infuse their vigor into a structure, giving it life, as opposed to a “mere building,” designed by an architect.  For example, Ruskin suggested looking for whether a building appeared to have been built by strong men.

Ultimately, I believe the fact that these men are considered such great theorists, and yet are so wildly divergent in their terms of thinking is quite telling.  It implies that architecture is more than a definition, but is instead a continuously evolving concept.  It is an extension of man’s ingenuity, which cannot be perfectly quantified.

Citation

Hvattum, M.(2004). Nineteenth-Century Architecture and Theory. Cambridge, England & New York:              Cambridge University Press.

Pevsner, N.(N.D.). Ruskin and Viollet-Le-Duc. London: Thames and Hudson