New National Gallery, Mies Van Der Rohe

New National Gallery

 Mies Van Der Rohe’s New National Gallery building in Berlin, Germany is a modern art museum that houses many highlights of 20^th century artwork including work from artists like Pablo Picasso and Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. The minimalist glass and steel building has a large, open floor plan and a large steel roof that is supported by eight exterior columns. The New National Gallery implements many elements to emphasize that it is used as a space for artists to present their work. Some of these elements include an optimal effect of openness, abstraction, and horizontality. The ceiling was a detail of the building that caught my attention. The simplicity and repetition of the square geometric, coffered ceiling add an interesting quality to the space. As we have traveled, many of the coffered ceilings I have seen are of domes, such as the Pantheon, and I like seeing this technique used in a modern, rectangular building.

Sketches of the ceiling and construction lines

I chose to represent this coffering of the ceiling in my model. Through building the model, I got a better sense of how the coffering of the ceiling affects the space and how light and shadow are created.

 

Model Photos

Barcelona Pavilion, Mies van der Rohe, 1929

Barcelona Pavilion

     Built in 1929, the German Pavilion of Barcelona is an outstanding example of media architecture. The pavilion was designed specifically for the German section of the 1929 International exhibition. Due to the placement of the solid and glass walls, a distinction between the inside and outside of the structure is hard to see. The simplicity of the walls was transferred to the design of the furniture such as the Barcelona Chair. Placed on a quiet site, the pavilion is a nice place for someone to relax while passing through to the other exhibits. Two pools of water sit on different ends of the pavilion, one in the large open area and one in the small secret garden.

Barcelona Chair                                                                       

     The diagrams indicate the circulation around the pavilion. Due to the placement of the walls, a person cannot simply walk up the stairs and straight through. The person must experience the space as he walks through the pavilion. The model shows the simple placement of the solid walls and the effect they have on the circulation of the spaces.

 

Plan

Circulation

Erich Mendelsohn - Petersdorff Department Store

          At the turn of the 20^th Century, the Modern Architecture movement began to take hold. This movement would attract many famous architects such as Frank Lloyd Wright, Le Corbusier, Walter Gropius, and Mies van der Rohe. In the early part of the Modern Architecture Era, Expressionism began to develop in Northern Europe. The Expressionist style adopted some of the characteristics of Modernist Architecture.

          The Petersdorff Department Store building is a great example of this blending of Expressionism and Modernism. Built in 1928, the building contains layers of brick and glass stacked on top of each other. Mass production of brick, steel, and glass allowed for more possibilities in architecture and structure, and allowed the expressionists to create interesting organic forms. This is evident in the façade of the store which is created by a large overhanging structure that bends itself around the corner of the two adjacent streets.

          I like how the use of the steel and glass in the structure seem to make the brick layers float on top of each other. The streamline look of the building is also interesting as it makes the front façade seem longer than it actually is.

          In my drawing and cutting of the building, I focused on the façade of the building and the vertical layering of the structure.

Decomposing the Star of David: Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin

Decomposing the Star of David

by Victoria Shingleton

When I first saw Daniel Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin, I was intrigued not only by the harsh angles and zig-zagging mass of the building, but also by the irregularity of the exterior surface.  Voids in the facade of the building are cut with seemingly random, sharp punctures, almost as if the skin itself was scarred.  Libeskind's building is completely metaphorical, intended to evoke feelings that the Jewish population of Berlin felt after World War II.  I wanted to further explore the metaphorical and emotional qualities that Libeskind used to create the experience.

Sketch of Libeskind's Jewish Museum in Berlin

The voids in exterior skin, while random, are uninterrupted - as if the angles which form the sharp edges of the building do not exist.  If you flatten out the facade of the building, the sides appear as a continuous surface.  It is difficult to tell where the skin folds into zig-zagging angles, as well as where they would fit in relation to the plan.  It is almost as if Libeskind cut into a continuous strip of paper and then folded it around his plan.

Though punctured, the facade is continuous.

It has been suggested that Libeskind used a loose interpretation of the Star of David, a Jewish symbol, to form the irregular angles of the voids of the museum's skin.  I decided to use light and shadow to further explore this idea in attempt to gain a stronger understanding of the meaning behind the punctures.

Shadow Study: Star of David

By comparing the shadow produced by the Star of David to the shadow produced by the voids of the museum's facade, I could begin to see how the angles of the cuts of the facades could be construed from angles of the Star of David.  However, I believe that the voids can also serve as a metaphor for the permanent marks left on the Jewish population of Berlin after WWII.  And while the voids appear on the surface of the building as darkness, I couldn't help but notice that the shadows produced by the paper fabrication left exactly the opposite - light - perhaps indicating that even in the darkest of times, even the smallest trace of light can provide a glimmer of hope.

Shadow Study: Libeskind's Jewish Museum

The zig-zagging plan of the building was said to be based upon the deconstruction of the Star of David.  To further understand this method, I used the symmetrical and regular geometry of the Star of David and physically arranged it with the asymmetrical and irregular geometry of the plan of the Jewish Museum.

Geometry Study: Star of David v. Jewish Museum Plan

While there may be similar angles and proportions of the Star of David in relation to the plan of the building, most apparent in the sharp angles can provide symbolic meaning to the plan, there may be a stronger relation within the confusion and disorientation the guests must feel in the irregular layout of the museum, similar to how lost and afraid the Jewish population must have felt before, during, and after WWII.

Whether or not the Star of David is visually present in Daniel Libeskind's design of the Jewish Museum in Berlin can really only be determined by the observer.  However, whether or not the user can see the star, I believe it is nearly impossible to ignore the many metaphorical values present in Libeskind's design.  It isn't a building constructed to be beautiful - it's a building constructed to evoke emotion.  And whether that emotion is fear, hatred, confusion, or scorn is simply in the eye of the beholder.

Connecting Past and Present Germany; Spreebogenpark

SPREEBOGEN PARK 

*Axel Schultes*

Jennifer Lenn

After the second World War much was done to restore Germany, and even more so after the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989. Not only was the country's infrastructure destroyed but the government had been substantially set back as well. Crucial ties between East and West Germany had been broken during the war and the government had severely crippled the trust of its citizens, therefore calling for a massive restoration and renovation of an entire nation and its government. It had been agreed upon, with little or no rebuttal, that the center for the most important parliamentary and government buildings should lie in Spreebogen, Berlin on the Spree River.  Master planning for the new Federal Government began in 1991 with a two-part international competition that was announced the following year. The first part would select a master spatial plan while the second called for the architectural designs. By 1996 another competition was announced for the design of a park which would exist in front of the German Chancellery building and the Paul-Lobe-Haus on the southern banks of the Spree River. The significance and symbolism of the location is, emphatically, just as important as the winning design itself by Axel Schultes. 

Coinciding with the German Government's goal, Schultes submitted a design unifying the major government buildings, improving circulation around the river, providing leisurely space for the public and ultimately he designed a perfect display of the Nation's new identity. The layout of the park symbolizes the connection between East and West Germany that had just recently been restored. This is clearly defined by the central concept in their plan; the "Band des Bundes". The "Band des Bundes" is a board of government buildings that extends from the north part of Friedrich Wilhelm-Stadt to Moabit and crosses the Spree river two times. On the North end of the park are the legislative buildings of parliament and on the other are their executive counterpart, the chancellery. Connecting the two major sectors is the "citizen's forum", or the park itself which is rich in open green spaces dedicated to the people.

The open spaces in the inner parts of Spreebogen park were left as open as possible because Schultes felt it was important to leave plenty of spaces to the people of Germany. Not only does the park make a bold statement to the public but is also full of symbolism in order to remember German history. There are two major meadows which slope to follow the radius of the Spree river. The western meadow is made up of condensed boxwood beds (or Buxus Sempervirens) in the front yards of Grunderzeit Alsenviertels. The symbolism of this meadow acknowledges the agreement upon one location for the site of all diplomatic missions and the replacement of the wet meadows that had previously existed in Spreebogenpark. The east meadow of Spreebogenpark is full of tall, rich, and colorful grasses and plants which become visually contradictory to the western garden and in doing so also commemorates the division of Germany. The wall area of the meadow signifies the Berlin wall but the harmony in which the two meadows exist links the east and west gardens. This is only one of the many ways by which Spreebogenpark attempts to reveal the Government's new identity. 

The newly found unity of the German Government and its people was celebrated from the early stages of this project beginning with the master planning of the site. Before master planning even began a common location was agreed upon for the central government structure. The Spree river united the plan all together in providing a perfect site for a new government and plenty of space to provide for the public. Once the main buildings were set in place and the architecture of the site had been developed, Schultes tied it all together with his landscape plan which has become known today as Spreebogenpark. His plan is developed around two major axis which link all of the major places of the city of Berlin. The axis are delineated by the healthy flow of circulation around the Spree River and by the self defining meadows throughout the park. The symbiotic relationship between the circulation, the government buildings and the luscious meadows form a strong and bold statement which defines the new identity of the German Government.  

http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spreebogenpark

http://www.economypoint.org/s/spreebogenpark.html

http://www.stadtentwicklung.berlin.de/planen/hauptstadt/dokumentation/en/wettbewerbe/ spreebogen_staedtebau.shtml

http://history1900s.about.com/od/coldwa1/a/berlinwall.htm

Jewish Museum, Berlin: An Architectural Monument

An Architectural Monument

By Rachel Gamble

By analyzing Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin, we can see how architecture’s role within society has expanded and transformed as a result of the two World Wars. With war comes profound political changes, as well as drastic changes in people’s lifestyles. Even the ways in which people use their spaces evolve during periods of war. In the unstable years following the World Wars, we see much architectural experimentation in Europe as people looked restlessly for change. Europeans affected by the war had to reconstruct their lives entirely and adapt, and thus their architecture adapted as well. The result was a new and different role for architecture - the role of architecture as a monument. Architecture evolved and became more than simply “buildings” as people began to use works of architecture as monuments to convey social information or to memorialize wartime events. In some instances buildings were used as political monuments designed to send political messages or to reinforce governmental power. Buildings like Libeskind’s museum, however, were a different kind of monument: poignant memorials to commemorate people affected by the war.

In Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum, we can observe clearly how the line between architecture and monument began to blur in the tumultuous years following the World Wars. Libeskind’s structure is not simply a neutral backdrop for the historic artifacts inside, but can also stand alone as a symbolic monument, even when empty. This expansion of architecture beyond its basic functions brings to mind a quote from Le Corbusier’s Towards a New Architecture: “The business of Architecture is to show emotional relationships with raw materials. Architecture goes beyond utilitarian needs... passion can create drama out of inert stone.” Libeskind successfully creates a space that does not stop at its functional requirements. His building is full of emotion – a moving exhibition in itself, regardless of its contents. Here, in the wake of war, architecture becomes more than simply a building. 

Libeskind extends the boundaries of architecture to "monument" through his heavy use of symbolism. Libeskind’s symbolic organization of the spaces inside the museum creates a monument that paints a telling picture of life for Jews in Germany. Throughout the museum are empty void spaces. The spaces around the voids are full of life, yet the void spaces themselves are unfriendly and almost inaccessible to visitors of the museum. This perhaps mirrors the absence of the Jewish population in Germany history caused by the Holocaust. The architecture, with its missing pieces, becomes an evocative physical manifestation of the empty spaces in Jewish history. Libeskind’s building is also designed in the shape of a deformed Star of David. The result seems to be zigzagging navigation through the building that is difficult and disorienting, perhaps suggesting some of the discord in the lives on the Jewish people during the Holocaust. Libeskind’s symbolism extends to the exterior as well. Jagged, irregular windows slice across the building's façade with no discernible pattern - perhaps symbolizing scars in Jewish history. The building, through its disconcerting symbolic elements, is not simply an empty vessel designed to house monuments to German Jews, but a monument in its own right.

In Libeskind’s Jewish Museum and other buildings built in the wake of the World Wars, architecture becomes more than a setting for human experiences but begins to have a life of its own. Architecture like that of Daniel Libeskind in Berlin goes a step further than structure and function, to become commemorative and symbolic. The war produced many fissures in European history, and architecture built since then seems to have gone deeper, socially and psychologically, than ever before. Juhani Pallasmaa in his book, The Eyes of the Skin, writes about this potential of architecture to become something more: “The ultimate meaning of any building is beyond architecture; it directs our consciousness back to the world and towards our own sense of self and being.” Post-war buildings are an example of how architecture can become more than simply buildings and serve as poignant monuments to times past. Through them we can see how architecture is continually acquiring a greater and more complex social role, especially in times of war.

Void spaces

Irregular circulation

Sources

Le Corbusier. “Towards a New Architecture.” New York: Dover Publications, 1927.

Pallasmaa, Juhani. “Eyes of the Skin.” John Wiley: New York, 2005.

OMA in Berlin

By Jordan Grant

Berlin invited many new architects into the city after the fall of the war, and each played a large role in what the city is today. I was fortunate enough to see this in person since I was able to spend some time in Berlin before coming to Italy. I was therefore able to relate to some of the places discussed in lecture, yet also found myself feeling disappointed when I discovered how many buildings I didn't have the opportunity to see. Perhaps one of the projects that I’m most disappointed about missing is that of the Embassy of the Netherlands.

Photo Courtesy of OMA

For a brief history of the architect and project- OMA, a name virtually synonymous with that of Rem Koolhaas, is a firm that began in 1975 and is still going strong today. OMA was invited in to Berlin to design the Netherlands Embassy, which completed construction in 2003. The Embassy was originally located elsewhere but the site was sold following the war, which allowed the Netherlands to move their site to a more strategic location called “mitte” (translated it means “center”), which is composed of former East and West Berlin districts. This detail may seem rather insignificant, but it actually drove the design of the building from the very beginning.

Photo Courtesy of OMA

OMA describes the project on their website as “…a disciplined cube with equally disciplined irregularities which aims to facilitate a better understanding of Berlin, confronting divergent ideas about how the city, with its complexity, heaviness, opacity, and beauty, should build / rebuild. Traditional planning guidelines of the former West Berlin demanded that new buildings in the neighbourhood (the Roldandufer in Mitte) reflect the local 19th century architectural style. Planning officials in the former East Berlin were more open to innovation. As a result, OMA combined an obedient approach (strictly fulfilling the block's perimeter) with a disobedient one (building an isolated cube).” (read more on OMA’s website at http://oma.eu/projects/2003/netherlands-embassy)

The 8,500 square meter project is broken down into the following spaces: 4,800 square meters of offices, 1,500 square meters of housing, and 2,200 square meters of parking. It reaches a height of 8 stories, but perhaps the most important and interesting part of the project is the winding path inside the project that divides the 8 stories into 24 different levels. This pathway determines the arrangement of the interior spaces as well as the exterior façade. At the points where the path comes into contact with the exterior, the façade becomes more transparent and the path allows itself to become more visible.

Photo Courtesy of OMA

I believe that this project is absolutely stunning, especially when lit at night. I’ve included a few photos of the project, but if you are interested at all in seeing more I’ve discovered a website which shows beautiful photos of the project that were taken for a magazine feature. Check out the Iwan Baan’s website for the project at www.iwan.com/photo_berlin_dutch_embassy_Rem_Koolhaas_OMA.php.

Architecture Speaks

By Shawna Hammon
Lecture - "Berlin"

Death no longer belongs to an individual.  Acts of war and terrorism such as Hiroshima and 9/11 along with natural disasters like earth quakes and tsunamis have made mass deaths more common.  A single tombstone could never fully express the scope of terror inflicted on the victims of these tragedies.  Architects are challenged to find another way for their designs to speak.  Enter Peter Eisenman and Daniel Libeskind – two architects whose architecture attempts to communicate the terrible nature of the Holocaust to the public.

  

Peter Eisenman explains that “the enormity and horror of the Holocaust are such that any attempt to represent it by traditional means is inevitably inadequate.”  It was along these lines that he designed his Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (aka Holocaust Memorial) with 2,711 slabs on a grid pattern on a sloping field.  The slabs, which are 2.38m x .95m, vary in height from .2 to 4.8m making each slab dimensionally unique.  Eisenman intentionally created an uneasy and confusing atmosphere so that visitors of the memorial could relate to the Jews at the time of WWII.

Similarly, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum of Berlin endeavors to capture the emotional journey of the Jewish population in Germany during World War II.  The Garden of Exile is connected to the museum proper through the second tunnel which represents the mass emigration of Jews from Germany.  The garden consists of 49 tall pillars with Russian olive trees growing on top.  Similar to Eisenman’s design, the grid is on a tilted foundation which is meant to disorient visitors and make them feel instable. 

Libeskind noted, “In my view, architecture is a communicative medium. To me, it's a storytelling medium. And I attempted to create a building that told that complex story in many different ways… It's a cultural medium. It has to be able to communicate.”  Archdaily describes Libeskind’s building as “less of a museum but an experience depicting what most cannot understand,” he “translated human experience into an architectural composition.” 

Both works are meant to leave visitors feeling lost and confused like the Jewish people so long ago who were uprooted and forced to leave their homes or stay to die.  Amongst the pillars and slabs of both projects you can look up to the open sky and feel exalted – there is still hope.

Eisenman avoided using symbols in his project.  His field of slabs represents tombs for victims of the mass genocide like a meadow of nameless tombstones.  Libeskind’s Jewish Museum commissioned Israeli artist, Menashe Kadishman, to exhibit Fallen Leaves in the Memory Void of the museum, the only occupiable voided space.  The exhibit consists of 10,000 punched metal faces that he encouraged visitors to walk on in order to hear the sounds created by the metal sheets clanging, rattling and scraping together, an eerie, disturbing sound that would echo in the voided space 20 meters tall and cause shivers down your spine.  Libeskind pointed out that Fallen Leaves represents “that which can never be exhibited when it comes to Jewish Berlin history: Humanity reduced to ashes.”  

Clearly, both projects bring visitors on an emotional journey through their spaces.  The architecture speaks to us about a tragedy that very few of us could otherwise understand or identify with.

 

Citations:

Eisenman, Peter. "Germany's Memorial: Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Berlin." Frontline. PBS, 31 May 2005. Web. 31 Aug. 2012. <http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/germans/memorial/eisenman.html>.

Kroll , Andrew . "AD Classics: Jewish Museum, Berlin / Daniel Libeskind" 25 Nov 2010. ArchDaily. Accessed 31 Aug 2012. <http://www.archdaily.com/91273>.

Libeskind, Daniel, and Daniel Greene, perf. "Daniel Libeskind - architect." Voices on Antisemitism. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 13 Sep 2007. Accessed 1 Sep 2012. <http://www.ushmm.org/museum/exhibit/focus/antisemitism/voices/transcript/?content=20070913>.