This year marks the centennial of the first edition of Vers Une Architecture, Le Corbusier’s epoch-making book. Though a new English translation appeared in 2007 to much acclaim, most other practicing architects read the first English edition that appeared in 1928, entitled Towards a New Architecture. Comparing the three editions is instructive, particularly in one crucial respect: the insertion of the word “new” in the title. The book wasn’t really about new architecture, because very little of it showed buildings in the International Style. Instead, it was in many respects a clever diatribe intended to convince Europeans that they had no choice but to renounce every kind of architecture that had been built before the Great War and begin anew. It was remarkably successful in fulfilling that aim.
https://www.archdaily.com/1000499/away-from-old-architecture-what-le-corbusier-really-meantMark Alan Hewitt
Contemporary Indian design culture can aptly be described with one word - fusion. A close look at the trends in fashion, cinema, music, and art soon reveals the country’saspirations as a globalized nation. Reveling in a new era, India’s art and design appear as a combination of influences from traditional life and the Western world. A “neo-Indian” image informs multiple forms of cultural expression, including architecture and interior design. As Indians and Indian architecture carve the country's place in the world, a new design trend flourishes - one that is driven by modern lifestyles, international influences, a colonial past, and a desire to stay connected to its roots.
Alejo Martínez, one of the main builders of Argentine modernity, turned the city of Concordia into a reference of the South American modernist movement. His extensive work on houses, such as Casa Péndola Díaz from 1925, Casa Marcone from 1928, or Casa Camaño from 1930, "changed the typology of the 'chorizo' house to compact housing, where straight volumes stand out, staggered from each other, and with terraces".
Mar del Plata is an obligatory reference to the Argentine modern movement. At the same time, it is the setting for many architectural classics that have been victims of neglect for years.
Magalí Marazzo, director of the municipality's Department of Works and Urban Planning and member of the National Monuments Commission, has taken charge of the situation by completing the restoration project of a paradigmatic work of 20th-century architecture: The House on the River.
Near the center of Helsinki, Finland, in the Töölö neighborhood, one can find the Temppeliaukio Church, an unusual-looking Lutheran church nestled between granite rocks. Approaching the square from Fredrikinkatu street, the church appears subtly, a flat dome barely rising above its surrounding landscape. An unassuming entrance, flanked by concrete walls, leads visitors through a dark hallway, and into the light-filled sanctuary carved directly into the bedrock. The exposed rock walls earned it the alternative name “The Church of the Rock.” To contrast the heaviness of the materials, skylights surrounding the dome create a play of light and shadows and a feeling of airiness.
The church is the result of an architectural competition won by the architect brothers Timo and Tuomo Suomalainen in 1961. Their original solution was recognized not only for its creativity but also for the respect it showed to the competition’s goal: “to include the organization plan for the whole Temppeliaukio Square, taking into attention that as great part as possible of the rock outcrop of the square to be preserved.” The winning proposal achieves this by embedding the church inside the rock and placing parish facilities on the edges of the hillock. This article explores the story behind the Temppeliaukio Church both narratively and visually, through the lens of Aleksandra Kostadinovska, a professional photographer from Skopje.
Mar del Plata is an obligatory reference to the Modern Movement in Argentina. Not only for being the scene of some architectural classics such as the House on the River, the Parador Ariston, or the Terrace Palace but also for the Cementerio Parque designed by Horacio Bucho Baliero and Carmen Córdova in the 1960s.
George Smart is an unlikely preservationist, almost an accidental one. The founder and executive director of USModernist, a nonprofit dedicated to the preservation and documentation of modern houses, Smart worked for 30 years as a management consultant. “I was doing strategic planning and organization training,” he says. “My wife refers to this whole other project as a 16-year seizure.” Recently I spoke with Smart about his two websites, the podcast, the house tours his organization conducts, and why documentation is such a power preservation tool.
Sometimes sculptural and expressive, sometimes monolithic and monotonous, the Brutalist architectural style is equal parts diverse and divisive. From its origins as a by-product of the Modernism movement in the 1950s to today, Brutalist buildings, in architectural discourse, remain a popular point of discussion. A likely reason for this endurance is — with their raw concrete textures and dramatic shadows, brutalist buildings commonly photograph really well.
Arquitectonica has refuted Koolhaas’ accusation that “Modern architecture had never achieved the promised alchemy of quantity and quality,” and Alistair Gordon’s enormous compendium of the firm’s work certainly disproves it.
But what of Rossi’s backhanded praise: “In America … quantity is quality!”? Although absolutely deserving of praise, the quantity of the work is not the basis for Arquitectonica’s achievement—even when associated with the virtuosity of design. The importance of Arquitectonica derives from certain specific contributions to modern architecture in the United States.
Hulking, imposing, and utilitarian, silos are an enduring urban feature, structures typically used for the storage of materials in bulk. They are important physical elements of the agricultural industry, storing grain, fermented feed, and other foodstuffs. These tall, typically cylindrical forms remain the subject of architectural fascination — from being symbols of technological progress for Modernist architectural figures of the early 20th century, to in contemporary times, instigating inventive approaches to adaptive reuse.
Known as the state house, the presidential palace, and an assortment of other terms — the building that hosts a country’s seat of government is usually quite architecturally striking. Frequently opulent, grand, and sometimes imposing, the state house is intended to function as a visually distinct marker of a nation — an extension of a state’s identity. In the African continent, a landmass that had seen a significant part of it colonized by European nations, this identity of statehood, in an architectural sense, is complex.
When people describe the modernist movement as a whole, they broadly reference the steel and glass skyscrapers which dot many of our cities’ skylines, or more specifically, the International Style that once emerged from Europe after World War I. The International Style represented technological and industrial progress and a renaissance of social constructs that would forever influence the way that we think about the use of space across all scales. Often designed as politically charged buildings seeking to make a statement towards totalitarian governments, many architects who influenced the style moved to the United States after World War II, paving the way for some of the most iconic buildings and skyscrapers to be built in the 20th century.
Rahul Mehrotra is a practicing architect based in Boston and Mumbai and he has been teaching at Harvard’s GSD where he is currently Chair of the Department of Urban Planning and Design and Director of the Master in Architecture in Urban Design Degree Program. Born in 1959, Mehrotra grew up in Lucknow, a city in Northern India and an important cultural and artistic hub. His father was a manager at a large machine tool company. The family moved a lot following Mehrotra senior’s frequent promotions, which led to changing residences owned by his company. Besides a few years in Lucknow and Delhi, they lived in different neighborhoods within Mumbai.
From Taiwan to the Netherlands to Uruguay, Jakub Sawosko has extensively been photographing concrete architecture all over the world and displaying them on Instagram as @sh_sh_welt.
After living surrounded and fascinated by post-war concrete architecture in Europe in his early years, Sawosko moved to Taiwan where he eventually realized that Modernism had heavily influenced Taiwan as well. "I felt that [Taiwan's distinctive style of architecture] deserved more recognition", explains Jakub in conversation with ArchDaily via Instagram.
Text description provided by the architects. After World War II, the need for housing was at an unprecedented high. The Unite d’Habitation in Marseille, France was the first large scale project for the famed architect, Le Corbusier. In 1947, Europe was still feeling the effects of the Second World War, when Le Corbusier was commissioned to design a multi-family residential housing project for the people of Marseille that were dislocated after the bombings on France.
“I am not an architect,” he says with a sparkle in his eyes, “I am merely a person seeking out their destiny.” To the late pioneer of Indian modernism, Balkrishna Vithaldas Doshi, architecture was a practice of self-discovery. The veteran’s stellar works of poetic functionality resulted from a humanist philosophy bearing the influence of modernist principles, Mahatma Gandhi, and Indian spiritual texts. Doshi believed that architecture was synonymous with life - a vehicle for constant celebration; a medium for heightened experiences. His greatest contribution to the architecture community was his powerful words of wisdom that echo the timelessness of his structures.
Espace Oscar Niemeyer is a cultural center designed by Oscar Niemeyer in the port city of Le Havre, France. The project’s location is inside the urban reconstruction area conceived by the rationalist architect Auguste Perret after the destruction of the city’s downtown area in World War II.
Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967). Via film screenshot
Of all arts, there is one that is truly capable of embracing architecture, and that is the cinema. The ability to represent spaces, moving in the course of time, brings cinema closer to architecture in a way that goes beyond the limitations of painting, sculpture, music - for a long time considered to be the art closest to ours - and even of dance. Both in cinema and in architecture space is a key subject, and although they deal with it in different ways, they converge by providing a bodily - and not only visual - experience of the built environment.
