Προς Υπεράσπιση των Βαλιτσών / In Defence Of Suitcases
(english below)
Το 1920 ο Λε Κορμπυζιέ εκδίδει στο περιοδικό L’ Esprit Nouveau μια σειρά «προγραμματικών σημειώσεων», τις οποίες μετά θα τις έπαιρνε και θα τις ανέπτυσσε στο βιβλίο του Για Μια Νέα Αρχιτεκτονική (1923). Στο ίδιο βιβλίο είναι που διατυπώθηκαν ιδέες όπως το ότι «Η Κάτοψη είναι ο Παραγωγός» και διατυπώσεις – σχεδόν κλισέ, μα όχι ψευδείς – για «μάτια που δεν βλέπουν». Δηλώσεις οι οποίες εδώ και 100 χρόνια επιμένουν ακριβώς γιατί είναι προφανείς. Βέβαια, βοηθαεί το πομπώδες ύφος τους. Αλλά δεν παύουν να είναι πράγματα τα οποία οι αρχιτέκτονες (και όχι μόνο) ασπάζονται μέχρι και σήμερα. Μέσα σε όλα τα λόγια του κειμένου αυτού όμως, υπάρχει και το εξής απόσπασμα:
«the Plan proceeds from within to without; the exterior is the result of the interior»
Και εδώ είναι που φανερώνεται, δειλά, η θεμελιώδης ρίξη του σύγχρονου αρχιτέκτονα με τον Λε Κορμπυζιέ. Διότι εδώ, 4 χρόνια πριν το Plan Voisin, φαίνεται η αδιαφορία για την σημασία της πόλης ως κάτι το υφιστάμενο, ως ένα τοπίο εξίσου ιερό με αυτό της υπαίθρου.
Μην με παρεξηγείτε, αναγνώστες. Σαφώς το εσωτερικό ενός κτηρίου έχει άμεση σχέση με το κέλυφος του. Σαφώς είναι θεμιτό (και πολλές φορές, συμβατικά ωραίο) το εσωτερικό να εκμεταλλεύεται την όψη ως πλατφόρμα έκφρασης.
Η διαφωνία μου προκύπτει από την αντίληψη που διατυπώνεται στην άνωθι δήλωση ότι η αρχή της όψης και του κτηρίου είναι πάντα το εσωτερικό του. Διότι, αυτές οι δηλώσεις παραπέμπουν σε εντελώς προγραμματικές/χρηστικές έννοιες του χώρου, ανάβοντας κεράκια στον βωμό του μακαρίτη του Louis Sullivan. Μια ψωριάρικη, αλυσοδεμένη Μορφή την οποία σπρώχνει από το λουρί μια αυστηρή και βίαιη Λειτουργία.
Αν μας έχουν μάθει κάτι οι σύγχρονες θεωρήσεις του αστικού χώρου (βλ. The Image of the City, (Kevin Lynch, 1960), The Architecture of the City (Aldo Rossi, 1966)) είναι ότι η προγραμματική προσέγγιση στον σχεδιασμό της πόλης οδηγεί σε πολλές παρανοήσεις. O Aldo Rossi εξηγεί το ζήτημα με αυτό που αποκαλεί «φονξιοναλιστική προσέγισση στον αστικό σχεδιασμο» (το σχετικό απόσπασμα βρίσκεται στο τέλος του κειμένου)
Όμως, πρέπει να αναρωτηθούμε αν ο Rossi μίλαγε αυστηρά για την πόλη. Γιατί κατά την γνώμη μου, είναι άκρως δόκιμο να πει κανείς ότι η ίδια προσέγγιση ισχύει και για τον σχεδιασμό κτηρίων.
Ένας καθηγητής μου, στο τρίτο εξάμηνο των αρχιτεκτονικών μου σπουδών, μου είχε πει ότι «δεν σχεδιάζουμε κτήρια βαλίτσες, στα οποία προσπαθούμε να χωρέσουμε το πρόγραμμα που μας δόθηκε». Και ενώ καταλαβαίνω ότι αυτή είναι μια πολυδιάστατη συμβουλή, δεν μπορώ παρά να διαφωνήσω εν μέρει. Οι βαλίτσες είναι αυτές που δημιουργούν έναν χώρο που επικοινωνεί με την πόλη και δημιουργούν έναν χώρο στον οποίο μπορεί να υπάρξει μια πληθώρα χρήσεων, και αυτό είναι πιο εμφανές σήμερα από ότι οποτεδήποτε άλλοτε, όπου εργοστάσια γίνονται μουσεία τέχνης και εβραϊκές συναγωγές γίνονται μπαράκια.
Στο τέλος της ημέρας, ίσως έχουμε ευθύνη (οι αρχιτέκτονες) απέναντι στην ζωντανή, εξελισσόμενη πόλη να φτιάχνουμε χώρους ευέλικτους, και ας χρειαστεί να θυσιάσουμε την άπειρη καλλιτεχνική μας έκφραση - ή αλλιώς, τον δικό μας σαδιστικό φετιχισμό με το να υποβάλλουμε τις απόψεις μας για τις πιθανές χρήσεις χώρων πάνω στα θύματα-χρήστες των χωρών που σχεδιάζουμε.
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In 1920, Le Corbusier published in the magazine L’Esprit Nouveau a series of "programmatic notes," which he would later take and further develop in his book Towards a New Architecture (1923). It was in this same book that ideas were formulated such as "The Plan is the Generator," along with almost cliché—yet not untrue—statements like "eyes that do not see." Statements that have persisted for a hundred years precisely because they are self-evident. Of course, their grandiose tone helps. But they remain concepts that architects (and not only architects) still embrace to this day.
Amid all the words of that text, however, there is the following excerpt:
"the Plan proceeds from within to without; the exterior is the result of the interior"
And here is where the fundamental rift between the modern architect and Le Corbusier timidly emerges. Because here, four years before the Plan Voisin, we see a disregard for the significance of the city as something that already exists, as a landscape just as sacred as that of the countryside.
Don't get me wrong, dear readers. Of course the interior of a building has a direct relationship with its shell. Of course it's valid (and often, conventionally beautiful) for the interior to utilize the façade as a platform for expression. My disagreement stems from the notion expressed in the above statement—that the origin of a building’s façade and structure is always its interior. Because such statements refer to purely programmatic/functional concepts of space, lighting candles at the altar of the late Louis Sullivan. A mangy, chained-up Form being dragged around by a strict and violent Function.
If modern understandings of urban space have taught us anything (see The Image of the City by Kevin Lynch, 1960, The Architecture of the City by Aldo Rossi, 1966), it's that a programmatic approach to city design leads to many misconceptions. Aldo Rossi addresses this issue with what he calls a “functionalistic approach to urban design” (the relevant passage is found at the end of his text).
But we must ask ourselves whether Rossi was speaking strictly about the city. Because in my view, it is absolutely valid to say that the same approach applies to building design as well.
A professor of mine, in the third semester of my architectural studies, once told me: “We don’t design suitcase-buildings, into which we try to cram the given program.” And while I understand that this is a multidimensional piece of advice, I can’t help but partially disagree. It’s the suitcases that create a space capable of communicating with the city and allow for a multitude of uses to emerge—and this is more apparent today than ever, in a time when factories become art museums and Jewish synagogues become bars.
At the end of the day, perhaps we (architects) have a responsibility toward the living, evolving city to create flexible spaces—even if it means sacrificing our boundless artistic expression, or in other words, our sadistic fetish for imposing our own views on the potential uses of spaces onto the victims-users of the environments we design.
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απόσπασμα από το βιβλίο "Η Αρχιτεκτονική της Πόλης" του Aldo Rossi / excerpt from "The Architecture of the City" by Aldo Rossi
“We have indicated the principal questions that arise in relation to an urban artifact—among them, individuality, locus, memory, design itself. Function was not mentioned. I believe that any explanation of urban artifacts in terms of function must be rejected if the issue is to elucidate their structure and formation.
We will later give some examples of important urban artifacts whose function has changed over time or for which a specific function does not even exist. Thus, one thesis of this study, in its effort to affirm the value of architecture in the analysis of the city, is the denial of the explanation of urban artifacts in term s of function. I maintain, on the contrary, that far from being illuminating, this explanation is regressive because it impedes us from studying forms and knowing the world of architecture according to its true laws.
We hasten to say that this does not entail the rejection of the concept of function in its most proper sense, however, that is, as an algebra of values that can be known as functions of one another, nor does it deny that between functions and form one may seek to establish more complex ties than the linear ones of cause and effect (which are belied by reality itself).
More specifically, we reject that conception of functionalism dictated by an ingenuous empiricism which holds that functions bring form together and in themselves constitute urban artifacts and architecture. So conceived, function, physiological in nature, can be likened to a bodily organ whose function justifies its formation and development and whose alterations of function imply an alteration of form. In this light, functionalism and organicism, the two principal currents which have pervaded modern architecture, reveal their common roots and the reason for their weakness and fundamental ambiguity.
Through them form is divested of its most complex derivations: type is reduced to a simple scheme of organization, a diagram of circulation routes, and architecture is seen as possessing no autonomous value. Thus the aesthetic intentionality and necessity that characterize urban artifacts and establish their complex ties cannot be further analyzed. Although the doctrine of functionalism has earlier origins, it was enunciated and applied clearly by Bronislaw Malinowski, who refers explicitly to that which is man-made, to the object, the house:
“Take the human habitation . . . here again the integral function of the object must be taken into account when the various phases of its technological construction and the elements of its structure are studied. ”
From a beginning of this sort one quickly descends to a consideration solely of the purposes which man-made items, the object and the house, serve. The question “for what purpose?” ends up as a simple justification that prevents an analysis of what is real. This concept of function comes to be assumed as a given in all architectural and urbanistic thinking and, particularly in the field of geography, leads to a functionalist and organicist characterization of a large part of modern architecture.
In studies of the classification of cities, it overwhelms and takes priority over the urban landscape and form; and although many writers express doubts as to the validity and exactitude of this type of classification, they argue that there is no other viable classification to offer as an alternative. Thus Georges Chabot, after declaring the impossibility of giving the city a precise definition because there is always a “residue” that is impossible to describe in a precise way, then turns to function, even if he immediately admits its inadequacy.
In such formulations, the city as an agglomeration is explained precisely on the basis of what functions its citizens seek to exercise; the function of a city becomes its raison d’etre, and in this form reveals itself. In many cases the study of morphology is reduced to a simple study of function. Once the concept of function is established, in fact, one immediately arrives at obvious classifications: commercial cities, cultural cities, industrial cities, military cities, etc.
Moreover, even in the context of a somewhat general critique of the concept of function, it must be pointed out that there is already within this system of assigning functions a difficulty in establishing the role of the commercial function. In fact, as proposed, the concept of classification according to function is far too superficial; it assumes an identical value for all types of functions, which simply is not the case. Actually, the fact that the commercial function is predominant is increasingly evident. This commercial function is the basis, in term s of production, of an “economic” explanation of the city that, beginning with the classical formulation offered by Max W eber,15 has undergone a specific development, one to which we shall have to return later. Given a function-based classification of the city, it is only logical that the commercial function in both the city’s formation and its development presents itself as the most convincing explanation for the multiplicity of urban artifacts and is tied to economic theories of the city.
Once we attribute different values to different functions, we deny the validity of naive functionalism; in fact, using this line of reasoning, we see that naive functionalism ends up contradicting its own initial hypothesis. Furthermore, if urban artifacts were constantly able to reform and renew themselves simply by establishing new functions, the values of the urban structure, as revealed through its architecture, would be continuous and easily available. The permanence of buildings and forms would have no significance, and the very idea of the transmission of a culture, of which the city is an element, would be questionable. None of this corresponds to reality. Naive functionalist theory is quite convenient for elementary classifications, however, and it is difficult to see what can substitute for it at this level.
It serves, that is, to maintain a certain order, and to provide us with a simple instrumental fact—just so long as it does not pretend that an explanation for more complex facts can be extracted from this same order. On the other hand, the definition of type that we have tried to propose for urban artifacts and architecture, a definition which was first enunciated in the Enlightenment, allows us to proceed to an accurate classification of urban artifacts, and ultimately also to a classification based on function wherever the latter constitutes an aspect of the general definition. If, alternatively, we begin with a classification based on function, type would have to be treated in a very different way; indeed, if we insist on the primacy of function we must then understand type as the organizing model of this function. But this understanding of type, and consequently urban artifacts and architecture, as the organizing principle of certain functions, almost totally denies us an adequate knowledge of reality.
Even if a classification of buildings and cities according to their function is permissible as a generalization of certain kinds of data, it is inconceivable to reduce the structure of urban artifacts to a problem of organizing some more or less important function. Precisely this serious distortion has impeded and in large measure continues to impede any real progress in studies of the city. For if urban artifacts present nothing but a problem of organization and classification, then they have neither continuity nor individuality. Monuments and architecture have no reason to exist; they do not “say” anything to us. Such positions clearly take on an ideological character when they pretend to objectify and quantify urban artifacts; utilitarian in nature, these view s are adopted as if they were products for consumption. Later w e will see the more specifically architectural implications of this notion. To conclude, we are willing to accept functional classification as a practical and contingent criterion, the equivalent of a number of other criteria—for example, social make-up, constructional system , development of the area, and so on— since such classifications have a certain utility; nonetheless it is clear that they are more useful for telling us something about the point of view adopted for classification than about an element itself. With these provisos in mind, they can be accepted”