Re-Purposing Space: the Role and Potential of Spatial Intervention 22

Fig 1: Collection of aboriginal art (a fragment), the Art Gallery of New South Wales (NSW), Sydney 2013. The practice-based research deals with the re-purpos with the deals - research practice-based The - and mod modes to find historicaling of buildings spatial of professional the concept expanding els for on the possible focuses research The intervention. knowledge phenomenological between interaction and the design activism investigation, and spatial on the thesis investigates, The process. gentrification Tallinn Baths, Mud Pärnu the – case-studies of basis - – the activa Church Paluküla Linnahall and Hiiumaa intervention tactics, tion of space and forms of spatial space. of strata social and mental physical, on focusing and the the physical practice, In interior architectural proportional in an inversely are emotional approaches - rela the on focuses research The other. each to relation (users), and the future tionship of the past (buildings) - pat and behavioural human layers spatial evaluating in the impact of space: author is interested The terns. through behaviour people’s to direct it is possible how human the affects space how and space physical atmosphere.

Dissertationes Academiae Artium Dissertationes Academiae Estoniae 22

RE-PURPOSING SPACE: SPACE: RE-PURPOSING INTERVENTION Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin THE AND ROLE OF SPATIAL POTENTIAL

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla RE-PURPOSING SPACE: THE ROLE AND POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL INTERVENTION 22

- Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla is a spatial researcher and an and an researcher is a spatial Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin and artis the social - explores who interior architect Estonian from graduated She space. of dimensions tic She is a super Arts as a designer (1987). of Academy transdisciplinary of visor and has in EAA projects University RMIT at experience gained international as a and Design Architecture of Melbourne of School fellow. and guest research lecturer exhibition the Estonian of Tüüne-Kristinthe curator is the SISU Biennale and Architecture Venice the 13th at 2014, Since Tallinn. in symposium interior architecture of the SISU—LINE she has served the editor-in-chief as In 2015 she journal. research interiorarchitecture Council of of the European elected to the board was working currently is She (ECIA). Architects Interior - the Estonian presi of design project with the spatial and Brussels Tallinn of the EU Council 2017 in dency Studio). (Vaikla Fig 1: Collection of aboriginal art (a fragment), the Art Gallery of New South Wales (NSW), Sydney 2013. In interior architectural practice, the physical and the and the the physical practice, In interior architectural proportional in an inversely are emotional approaches - rela the on focuses research The other. each to relation (users), and the future tionship of the past (buildings) - pat and behavioural human layers spatial evaluating in the impact of space: author is interested The terns. through behaviour people’s to direct it is possible how human the affects space how and space physical atmosphere. The practice-based research deals with the re-purpos with the deals - research practice-based The - and mod modes to find historicaling of buildings spatial of professional the concept expanding els for on the possible focuses research The intervention. knowledge phenomenological between interaction and the design activism investigation, and spatial on the thesis investigates, The process. gentrification Tallinn Baths, Mud Pärnu the – case-studies of basis - – the activa Church Paluküla Linnahall and Hiiumaa intervention tactics, tion of space and forms of spatial space. of strata social and mental physical, on focusing

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin Dissertationes Academiae Artium Dissertationes Academiae Estoniae 22 RE-PURPOSING SPACE: SPACE: RE-PURPOSING THE AND ROLE OF SPATIAL POTENTIAL INTERVENTION

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla RE-PURPOSING SPACE: THE ROLE AND POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL INTERVENTION 22

Supervisors Prof Ranulph Glanville, PhD Prof Mart Kalm, PhD

External reviewers Suzie Attiwill, PhD Lilian Hansar, PhD

Opponent Prof Morten Lund (Chalmers University)

Public defence 14 June 2017

Editor Epp Lankots, PhD

Translation Peeter Tammisto Liis Kivirand

Copy editor Richard Adang

Design and layout Stuudio Stuudio

The research has been supported by Estonian Academy of Arts Archimedes Foundation Cultural Endowment of Estonia Estonian Association of Interior Architecture

ISBN (trükis) 978-9949-594-10-8 ISBN (pdf) 978-9949-594-11-5 ISSN 1736-2261

Printed by Printon Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla

RE-PURPOSING SPACE: THE ROLE AND POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL INTERVENTION

Ruumi ümbermõtestamine: ruumilise sekkumise roll ja järelmõju

Doctoral Thesis Estonian Academy of Arts 2017 Content

1. CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions...... 11

1.1 Space and Re-purposing...... 16 1.2 Space and Gentrification...... 20 1.3 Space and Form...... 22

2. THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS...... 31

2.1 About Theory and Practice in Interior Architecture...... 32 2.2 Creative Methods and Concepts...... 38 2.3 Multi-layered Space...... 44 2.4 Phenomenology...... 47 2.5 Spatial Values and Remodelling...... 52 2.6 Gentrifying the Environment ...... 58

3. METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE...... 67

3.1 Spatial Metamorphoses, the Transformation of Buildings ...... 69 3.2 Spatial Interventions...... 86 3.2.1 Site-specific Art...... 87 3.2.2 Social Works of Art...... 92 3.2.3 Design Activism...... 93

4 4. CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths ...... 99

4.1 Pärnu Mud Baths and Summer Resort: The Story of the Building and Context... 101 4.1.1 The Story of the Mud Baths...... 104 4.2 Exhibition Project Spatial Snapshot, Pärnu Mud Baths, 10–13 November 2011....110 4.3 Restoration of the Historic Mud Baths Building: Modernisation and Extension... 121 4.4 Conclusions...... 127

5. CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall...... 131

5.1 Declining Modernity. Demolish? Forget? ‘Hibernate’? Reconstruct?...... 133 5.2 The Life of the Linnahall Concert Hall...... 144 5.3 Exhibition Project How Long is the life of a Building? 13th Venice Architecture Biennale, 29 August – 25 November 2012...... 152 5.4 Conclusions...... 160

6. CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church...... 165

6.1 Re-purposing the Past...... 167 6.2 Functional Changes in Sacred Buildings in Europe and Estonia...... 169 6.3 Exhibition Project Housewarming, Hiiumaa’s Paluküla Church, 12 July – 4 August 2013...... 180 6.3.1 Spatial Change: Context – Action – Ideas ...... 181 6.3.2 Open Workshop Re-vitalisation...... 185 6.4 Conclusions...... 190

7. SUMMARY...... 193

8. KOKKUVÕTE...... 203 9. REFERENCES...... 225 10. Appendix...... 233

5 6 Preface

The alteration of space and particularly spatial intervention has interested me for the last fifteen years as a spatial practitioner, in other words as a practising interior architect, artist and person. The revitalisation (even if temporary) of abandoned places balances on the borderline between planning and implementation. This is not necessarily the wish to alter something existing but rather the aspiration to highlight spatial relationships that have hitherto remained concealed.

7 My story: I lived the first few years of my life in a ‘Stalinovka’ in the centre of Tallinn, and was later raised in a ‘Khrushchevka’ in the city’s Pelgurand district (the terms are used nowadays to specify Soviet architecture after the Second World War according to the reigns of the Soviet heads of state J. Stalin, N. Khrushchev and L. Brezhnev). Later I made my way to Herbert Johanson’s functionalist schoolhouse in the city centre from the modernist atmosphere of a concrete panel apartment building in the Mustamäe district. All of this was the impetus for my early picture of the world, or more precisely my experience of space from which to flee and where I could gratefully return. My first knowledge of the world of art and design came from the innovative Chair of Design Studies at the Estonian State Institute of Art (hereafter ERKI), thanks to Professor Bruno Tomberg, the founder of Estonia’s school of design, through whose supervision and in cooperation with the Academy of Sciences Institute of Cybernetics I completed my diploma thesis on the use of computer graphics in both urban space and spatial design by way of Mandelbrot’s fractality.

I am grateful for flexible situations, well-disposed organisations and the support of many people, in which the Estonian Academy of Arts has played an important role in my studies as well as in my role as an interdisciplinary lecturer, and also to the Archimedes Foundation and the Estonian Cultural Endowment, both of which have been critical in promoting open interaction with the world. I had the opportunity to participate in practice-based research courses for doctoral candi- dates at the LUCA/Sint-Lucas School of Architecture in Brussels and Ghent in 2010–2012, and to work as a guest research fellow, critic and supervisor at the RMIT University of Melbourne School of Archi- tecture and Design during the autumn semester of 2013, for which I am grateful to Professors Johan Verbeke and Suzie Attiwill. Working within an international context has enabled me to draw parallels and analyse differences, and also to test possible approaches in the practical work of learning and teaching at several universities. The manuscript for this dissertation was completed at a borgo in the for- tress of Mazzano Romano in Italy in the residence programme of the Väinö Tanner Foundation.

These valuable experiences and contacts gave me the chance to curate the SISU international interior architecture symposium in cooperation with the Association of Estonian Interior Architects and the Estonian Academy of Arts Department of Interior Architecture, which has shaped my professional attitudes and viewpoints. Over the course of this event, which brought together theoreticians and practitioners, dynamics between theory and practice were sought in interior

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 8 architecture: Interior Architecture – Dynamics of Theory and Practice (Tallinn 2014); the impact of space and the role of the (interior) architect in it: The Impact of Space (Tallinn 2015); spatial changes in both living space and public space associated with migration resulting from both contemporary voluntary nomadism and involuntary refugees: Welcome Stranger! (Tallinn 2016); and the transformation and metamorphoses of space: Naked Space (Lucerne/Tallinn 2017). The journal of interior architecture research SISU—LINE evolved out of the symposium. The encouragement provided by discussion of nature and the development of the profession of interior architecture in today’s changing world has led me to cooperation with the board of the European Association of Interior Architects (ECIA).

I thank Dr. Liina Unt and Dr. Raivo Kelomees, the heads of curriculum of the Estonian Academy of Arts Doctoral School of Art and Design, as well as Dr. Anneli Randla, Professors Hannes Praks, Toomas Tammis and Andres Ojari for the support and collaboration during these years. I am grateful to the preliminary reviewers of my doctoral dissertation exhibitions, Professor Lilian Hansar and Tom Callebaut and all preliminary reviewers for advice regarding the subject matter. I am very grateful for Dr. Epp Lankots, Richard Adang, Peeter Tammisto, lighting designer Siim Porila and the graphic designer Mikk Heinsoo. Everyone who has graciously contributed through interviews and conversations has been very important for me during the research process.

The old friends – The MTÜ Arhitektuuripärandi Sõprade Selts [Society of Friends of Architectural Heritage] – has been the instigator of long and short trips to spatial environments for some ten years. Together with them I have had the chance to discover the undiscovered. My creative family – Urmo, Ingel, Ann Mirjam – has naturally provided emotional support in the completion of this doctoral dissertation, and their role in site-specific exhibition projects has been indispensable, I am thankful for their help with the amazing photos and films used in the research. Special thanks to my parents – Tiiu and Paul Kokla – for all the interest and dedication. Writing this dissertation, carrying out practical research, preparing the exhibitions would not have been possible without you all.

I owe my most sincere thanks to the supervisor of my doctoral dissertation, Professor Mart Kalm. The backbone of this dissertation developed and took shape through intense conversations with him. I sincerely thank Professor Ranulph Glanville (1945–2014), who helped me to comprehend ways of investigating artistic and architectural practice in a different perspective.

PREFACE 9

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions

This dissertation is an attempt to find modes and models for expanding the concept of professional spatial intervention – as an installation/exhibition/performative mode – which precedes and also informs the final project re-design/ re-purposing of a space/building. The practice-based research investigates, on the basis of case studies, the activation of space and forms of spatial intervention tactics, focusing on physical space parallel to the mental and social strata of space. The practical part focuses on phenomenological knowledge of techniques for rethinking derelict buildings that revived the evolving gentrification process.

 Fig 2: Pantheon at midday, Rome 2015. 11 In today’s changing world, a large portion of historical industrial buildings, churches, farm buildings and other structures stand vacant. A few buildings are fortunately transformed in the course of reconstruction into chic dwellings, offices, theatres, restaurants and gym- nasiums, and as a result the revitalisation of a building or of a whole area takes place. This sort of attractive and dense association of contradictions between content and form intrigues me. Recent historical strata, such as the nostalgic ‘Estonian era’ and the hated Soviet regime that followed it, are recorded in people’s ways of thinking. Economic as well as social relations become decisive circumstances in the (re) vitalisation of a building, with one naturally depending on the other. Everything for which no use is found inevitably decays and decom- poses. What should be done with fascinating architectural landmarks or vitally important parts of infrastructure that are nowadays no longer needed in their original function, e.g. lighthouses, windmills and watermills, postal stations and railway stations, factories, cultural centres and municipal saunas? Old buildings still contain immense potential, and perform exceedingly well in new contemporary functions. Ample positive examples of the new use of such historical buildings as theatres, libraries and university buildings can be cited as verification of this claim, reflecting above all sensitive restoration and renewal, and it’s clear that the preservation of the atmosphere of an old building can also be profitable economically. The desire for total change presumes the design and construction of a new building instead, yet resources for this are insufficient. Fascinating and critical works at the world’s top architectural and artistic events – the architectural biennials in Venice, Manifesta in Genk, and Documenta in Kassel – all in former industrial buildings, creating an intriguingly unique environment for expositions, verify the topicality of the theme of the recycling of buildings. Current discussions addressing interior architecture as a practice of re-purposing, adaptive reuse or recycling within the academic arena have been provided by Professor Graeme Brooker (London Royal College of Art) and Sally Stone (Manches- ter School of Architecture) in several publications concerning the complex process of remodelling existing buildings.1 The academic journal Int|AR – Interventions/Adaptive Reuse (editors Liliane Wong and Markus Berger) of the Interior Architecture programme of Rhode Island School of Design researches the reuse topic from different viewpoints: the relationship of art and building reuse, adaptive reuse in emerging economies and emerging markets, the experience economy and adaptive reuse, (negative) associations, experiences and

1 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Rereadings: Interior Architecture and the Design Principles of Remodel- ling Existing Buildings. London: Riba Enterprises, 2004; G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture: Context + Environment, London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2008.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 12 memories translated in buildings, sites or material, and the phenomenon of reclaiming and transforming industrial buildings and structures through adaptive reuse, from the European traditional arena to recent developments in China and South America.

Nowadays, there are abandoned building complexes in the countryside and in cities, in Estonia and throughout the world, due primarily to rapid globalisation, but also to demographic reasons: the decay of industry,i.e. the transformation of the economy to the post-industrial phase, accompanied by contractions in cities and rural settlements. Contemporary examples of this are found in cities in industrialised Western Europe (e.g. Genk) as well as in Eastern Europe (e.g. Lodz) and Northern America (e.g. Detroit).

Fig 3: The Packard Factory is the largest abandoned industrial complex in the world, Detroit 2017.

Here in Estonia, such an example in the border city of Narva, with its Kreenholm factory. Large and exceedingly large building complexes, of course, are the first to be abandoned, since in economic terms they are difficult to maintain when their original function disappears. Contemporary examples in Tallinn of industrial heritage that has now been valuated are the former cellulose integrated plant (architect Erich Jacoby, 1926–1930), otherwise known as the Fahle building, and the seaplane hangars (Christiani & Nielsen, engineer: Sven Schultz, 1916–1917), now a part of the Maritime Museum (architects for both buildings: Raivo Kotov and Andrus Kõresaar, 2002– 2006). As the state currently holding the presidency of the European Union Council (2017), Estonia is concentrating its key presidential events in the restored and renewed Tallinn Kultuurikatel [Creative Hub], the building that formerly housed the city’s electric power

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 13 station.2 Among other examples are the modernist meat market in Copenhagen connected to the city by rail (architects: Poul Holsoe, Curt Bie and Tage Rue, engineers: C. Bruun and P. J. Borge, 1934), which now functions effectively as a supermarket, and the Koff brewery in Helsinki (architect: Woldemar Baeckman, 1970), which is now the Emma Museum of Contemporary Art. The more important monuments have also been added to the UNESCO list of world heritage, which is one way of appreciating cultural heritage nowadays; the coal mining town of Zollverein in the Ruhr area, for instance, is on the list of world heritage as a pearl of industrial architecture.

The replacement of the imposed socialist system of government of the Soviet Union (1945–1991) with contemporary capitalism based on private property, and joining the European Union (2004) are important aspects of recent Estonian history. This first brought a considerable increase in immigration and then a notable decrease at the beginning of the 21st century. The abandonment of quality architecture that has been created in the shadow of the bland Soviet-era mass construction in contemporary Estonia is visually offensive. Its demolition for the construction of new buildings is very rarely undertaken. The usual practice is the forgetting of this architecture, although a multitude of objects are on the waiting list, for the realisation of which there are not enough ideas, nor is there enough capital to finance them. Church buildings and roofless threshing barns have stood vacant since the Soviet era, when the kolkhozes built new residential buildings and cultural centres. Yet already at the outset of the creation of Estonia as an independent state – as a result of the economic reform implemented in the 1920s – the lands of manorial estates were nationalised and small holdings were established on these lands, and many manor houses were also nationalised, some of which were left unused. Thus, leftover space is not a phenomenon characteristic of only the present time; rather, it mostly accompanies changes in systems of government.

In the relationship with the local community and vacant houses, I see in the current situation the opportunity and need to communicate with and relate to the surrounding (urban) space, especially with people. In creative practice research, I analyse different forms of spatial intervention through site-specific exhibition projects. I rely on my own experience in this process. How can public discussion and critical thinking be generated? Public action and intervention can be a field for exploring boundaries. My desire is to highlight spatial

2 The winner of the design contest for the creative design and furnishing of venues for presidential meetings was the entry Vool [Flow]: authors Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla, Urmo Vaikla and Mikk Meelak (2016).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 14 relationships that have hitherto remained concealed to understand different possibilities for action, involving the local population in the discussion, and attempting to change stagnant viewpoints and broaden the horizon in generating new alternative ideas in the changing world, the creation of a point of contact between people and institutions. As a practitioner, I relate to topical subjects, society’s sore points, and fascinating manifestations of the world of architecture not so much through literature as through international exhibitions and events that are naturally accompanied by studies, expositions and presentations. For example, there is the idea of the site-specific exhibition project, which involves community etc., as a spatial intervention in the actual site, as a temporal intervention in the progress of its transformation and as a mode of activism to raise awareness.

Questions concerning the reasons for and ways of functionally re-purposing buildings (inspired by the motives described below) took shape one after another in practice in various case studies. The artist poses a question by way of an exhibition but does not necessarily offer an answer within the framework of that same exhibition. Thus the purpose of the question is more to create an ambivalent atmosphere in order to find kindred spirits among the public or, in other words, to communicate with people. In one way or another, urbanists, artists, students and local inhabitants (in addition to official institutions) constantly deal with the questions that have emerged in the current spatial environment: why is a new function sought for a building? Who are the users of an old building today and how do they relate to the building? Are the values of an old building material or emotional? Do they change over time? How can forgotten old traditions be replaced by new ones? What are the alternatives if a new use is not found for an abandoned building?

I have set the following research questions: how to find an interaction of contemporary user and historical building in the functional re-purposing process? and what should be borne in mind when speaking of architectural and spatial values? I argue that in the case of historical buildings, only the physical substance of the building is valued by heritage protectors, and its intangible values are not protected. Often in the revitalisation of derelict buildings there is a lack of human contact with the possible users in the functional re-purposing process. In this dissertation, I have set the goals of focusing on extending the concept of spatial intervention and experimenting as a spatial practitioner with approaches that would facilitate finding and highlighting spatial attributes in order to appreciate the mental (emotional) and social spatial level that has been overshadowed in the built environment.

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 15 1.1 SPACE AND RE-PURPOSING

My research project deals with questions arising from the metamorphosis of space through housing new functions. To find new methods for designers/architects in the re-purposing process, my research approach involves testing different case studies: I examine abandoned spaces as a lab (test-site), focused on awakening spatial emotions and seeking different values. My challenge is the linking of the spatial environment to its user, in other words the search for a functioning social involvement that includes conservation, the use of space in a sustainable way, an innovative approach and human-centred design, or a design free of barriers. Relying on my personal emotional sense, I have pondered the nature of old houses, and have both loved and hated them for aesthetic reasons. Who needs an old building? Age is relative here, of course. When does the pitiful condition of a building ravaged by time become poetic and merit attention, preservation and adaptation? Or, visa versa, when does it demand to be removed to make room for new architecture? How can valuable details be recognised? How can we proceed with conservation creatively, innovatively and sensitively? The massive inundation of new buildings during the last construction boom (2000–2007) was unexpected and raised an acute question when the subsequent economic crisis hit: why is a new building better than an old one, or should one prefer an old building to a new one? This also prompted my interest in the way abandoned buildings are used and the problems of involving the community.

In the 1970s, the critic of modernism Peter Blake, who had studied architecture under Louis Kahn, claimed that old buildings that have found new uses function considerably better in their altered uses than purpose-built brand new buildings.3 According to Blake, an important building has several lives: its first life begins when the building is completed and its success or failure is manifested in its functioning or non-functioning. Its second life follows as generations change when nobody remembers any more whether the building had met expectations in terms of finances, comfort and planning design. A building is viewed more like a work of art, which is good, bad or special. Sometime later, a third life follows, where the building’s age becomes a value in itself, even though the building may be ugly. According to Blake, the buildings of

3 P. Blake, Form Follows Fiasco: Why Modern Architecture Hasn’t Worked. Boston/Toronto: Little, Brown & Co, 1977, p. 20.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 16 such classics of modernism as Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe and Frank Lloyd Wright lived in their first phase for a long time, where the cost, functioning, thermal insulation and weatherproof- ing of those buildings were assessed pragmatically.4 Yet a space is never final; rather, it is designed and built, and it constantly changes over time together with people and the needs arising from their character, cultural space and the nature of the use of the space. Naturally, the possibility of flexible use gives new people the chance to adapt to the building and to adapt the building as needed throughout its entire physical existence. On this basis, the buildings by Mies van der Rohe with open spatial planning are good examples of flexible metamorphoses or transformations as the purpose of space changes, where open-ended planning can be changed by using sliding walls, for instance. This universal concept of functionalism requires user activity and the freedom of the creating of an environment: for the user, space is ‘empty space’, a receptacle that can be filled with different wines, empha- sising space as having universal possibilities derived from the variability of social and everyday life, in which the consumer is a co-author.5 La production de l’espace [The Production of Space] (1974) by the French neo-Marxist philosopher Henri Lefebvre has become topical in contemporary critical spatial practice. According to this book, space is not an empty container where both things and people are situated; rather, it is more dynamic and flowing, and reproduces (renews) itself as a result of human activity. In other words, it is a temporal-spatial social product. By distinguishing three types of space – perceived, conceived and lived – alongside physical (real environment) and mental space, it is social space in particular that becomes important as the place where people communicate. Thus people as inhabitants, with their behaviours and habits, are an inseparable component of space, and are the creators of lived space. Lefebvre highlights the different aspects of space in a way which helps me to follow his layers of space in my research on the re-purposing process (Chapter 2.3 Space and Place).

Considering the Venice architectural biennials of the current decade as the top events in architecture worldwide, the subject matter examined at them has ranged from architectural criticism of the built environment to the mutual effects of creators and users, moving from poetic spatial installations in the 2010 Biennale People Meet

4 P. Blake, The Master Builders: Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright. New York/ London: Norton, 1996, p. 14. 5 K. Lehari, Ruum. Keskkond. Koht. Tallinn: Eesti Kunstiakadeemia, 1997, p. 24.

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 17 in Architecture (curated by the Japanese architect Kazuyo Sejima) to quests for a common human element in Common Ground, 2012 (curated by the British architect David Chipperfield). The Ger- man Pavilion’s exhibition Reduce/Reuse/Recycle – Architecture as Resource (curator Muck Petzet), for instance, dealt with the theme of the reuse of buildings, presenting different kinds of buildings, from a church to a gymnasium, which could be easily reused by reducing their size through reconstruction and marking out the historical proportions of the buildings. Rem Koolhaas’s bureau OMA Architects analysed manifestations of the reuse of buildings using examples from large cities in the curator’s exhibition. Also an interesting and important object displayed at the curator’s exhibition was Berlin’s Tempelhof Airport (authors of the exposition Mark Randel, Thomas Kupke and Philipp Oswalt), where a contemporary function was sought for the gigantic airport complex located in Berlin.

Fig 4a: Tempelhof as a social space, Berlin 2015.

Nowadays people use the vast former airfield for windsurfing, bicy- cling, jogging and other physical activities, as I discovered on a recent winter walk. A (small) part of the interior of the abandoned building has also been occupied by Freud University, giving it audi- toriums with windows that open up into aeroplane hangars. This is apparently an alternative educational institution that has found an advantageous opportunity to organise its teaching that is inspirational primarily because of the spatial sense of the building.

Fig 4b: Tempelhof as a social space, Berlin 2015.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 18 Fig 5: Inside Tempelhof, Berlin 2015.

In a similar way, nearly the entire 14th Venice Architectural Biennale Fundamentals (2014), curated by the Dutch architect and architectural theoretician Rem Koolhaas, involved the theme of abandonment and re-use of architecture, in particular as it relates to 20th century modernisation. The same theme is being discussed more and more throughout the world, in Estonia as well, for example at the Tallinn Architectural Biennial (TAB) Taaskasutades Nõukogude ruumipärandit / Recycling Socialism (2013), whose curators were Aet Ader, Kadri Klementi, Karin Tõugu and Kaidi Õis, and which developed into a kind of continuation of the 13th Venice Architectural Biennale Estonian exhibition Kui pikk on ühe maja elu? / How Long is the Life of a Building? (2012), whose curator was Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla. Several different approaches emerged at this international biennial on the theme of how it is possible to reuse a building. Two directions clearly stood out: to simply squat the building, so to speak, or to modernise it. In both cases, the location, history and typology of the building provide subject matter for the development of ideas, along with inspirational examples, raising the questions: why do built buildings no longer function or why have they been left uncompleted during construction? What should be done with this heritage, who might need it now, and how can a building be profit- ably modernised and used?

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 19 1.2 SPACE AND GENTRIFICATION

Relating conservationally to the environment and communicating with residents in a sustainable way while disregarding the vain designs of market demand have motivated me in my (interior) architect’s work process. Personal contact with manifestations of gentrification in interior architectural practice provided the impetus for my research work. Gentrification, the renewal of run-down urban environments through the ‘infiltration’ of the more prosper- ous middle class into working class residential districts and the gradual displacement of the original residents of those districts, emerged in the 1960s.6 In the course of an intensifying process of gentrification, it became evident that the spatial environment subject to renewal did not relate to the existing population. I am interested in how to combine the stratifications of different eras into a uniform whole within the context of a selected (abandoned) building that would continue to interest and address contemporary people as users and would contribute to the possible creation of new functioning events, the generation of traditions. A community has to be understood as people with different attitudes, depending on cultural and economic background, age and character. How can the replacement of lost traditions with new customs be accomplished in a way that ensures the dignified use of these historical buildings, in an enduring, healthy and profitable way on both the individual and collective levels? At this point it is important to note changes in people’s attitudes together with the change in the social system: the replacement of Soviet-era collectivism with the individualism inherent to capitalism in the period of the restoration of Estonia’s independence, as well as the opposite tendency of the emergence of joint democratic community activity after the recent economic crisis. One example of this is the citizens’ initiative Teeme ära! [Let’s do it!], which was launched in Estonia and has turned into the worldwide campaign World Cleanup!, joining together over a hundred countries and millions of people in the name of promoting a clean environment throughout the world. I’ll come back to gentrification in Chapter 2.6 Gentrifying the Environment.

Manifestations of gentrification arose in connection with changes in ownership relations in the process of privatising state property when Estonia regained its independence at the end of the 20th century. The stratification of people from different economic and

6 R. Glass, London: Aspects of Change. London: MacGibbon & Kee, 1964.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 20 cultural backgrounds began occurring in Estonia as well through changes in urban lifestyle; the Kalamaja district in Tallinn and the Supilinn district in Tartu developed in fascinating directions. This phenomenon has occurred on a large scale in recent years in Esto- nia through the transformation of industrial architecture in Tallinn in the phenomena of the Kultuurikatel [Creative Hub], the Telliskivi Loomelinnak [Creative Campus], and the Rotermann, Luther, Bal- tika, Volta and Noblessner complexes, similarly to many analogous phenomena throughout the world, where historical industrial or residential districts gain a new infusion of life with the help of ‘hipsters’. The result of the gentrification process is a renewed residential district based on the characteristic historical values of its buildings. As a phenomenon, gentrification leads to a change in residents or users. Who are the gentrifiers? The revitalisation of a district clearly takes place, but at the expense of what and whom?

The contemporary French art critic and curator Nicolas Bourriaud claims that contemporary human relations do not function outside of the fields of commerce, as everything that cannot be marketed dies out. Relationships are replaced by veiled consumerism. Human warmth is sought and is found in the sale and purchase of a coffee cup at an agreed price. By virtue of the rapid commercialisation of society and urban space, Bourriaud sees a tendency toward pow- erlessness and helplessness in contemporary mankind, as it comes face to face with the electronic media, theme parks, user-friendly locations and other widespread phenomena of social interaction, like a laboratory rat on its way to eternal rest in a cage full of cheese. ‘For anything that cannot be marketed will inevitably vanish [---] So here we are summoned to talk about things around a duly priced drink, as a symbolic form of contemporary human relations. [---] So try our coffee.’7

People with different cultural, social and economic capital replace the existing community. Human relationships that had functioned fade away, services are replaced by machines, and people’s quests for identity are expressed as trademarks: the inhabitants of the new place of residence search for an image that suits their lifestyle by asking: what does it look like, and how do I live? Bourriaud’s text helps to explain the changes in the psychological aspect of time and how it influences the relationship between people in a local community.

7 N. Bourriaud, Relational Aesthetics. Trans. S. Pleasance, F. Woods. Dijon: Presses du réel, 2002, p. 9.

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 21 1.3 SPACE AND FORM

Thirdly, critical discussion of the social sore points of the spatial environment has motivated me, which means abandoning the treatment of architecture as pure form, i.e. not setting aesthetics on a pedestal. This is often the focus in creating an innovative built environment. Unlike the amplified treatment of architecture in the media, the architect and historian of architecture Kenneth Frampton has criticised the consideration of buildings as impressive designs or merchandise. He stresses architecture’s social responsibility and the singularity of place in counterbalancing the homogenisation and scenographic touch brought on by globalisation.8 Looking back to the last century, he points out the worldwide ‘Bilbao effect’, where on the strength of the success of the Guggenheim Museum (1995), provincial towns started commissioning design projects from top American architects and, over the next decade, the work of star architects increased considerably throughout the world. Iconic buildings sprang up in diametrically different political and cultural contexts.9 He mentions the Kiasma Art Museum in Helsinki (architect Steven Holl) as one example in which discernible ethnicality – the notion of a public building as a stage for the public – has been overshadowed by extravagance, the desire for originality and neo-neo-avangardism.10 A similar approach was encountered in Tallinn during the economic boom of the current century, where several international architectural competitions were ambitiously held, which shows an inability to adequately distinguish between actual needs and opportunities that accompany temporal and spatial changes. For instance, the ambitious winning entries of Danish architectural bureaus in the competition for the new broadcasting corporation building (Nobel arkitekter, 2007), the architectural competition for the new Estonian Academy of Arts academic building (Effekt arkitekter, 2008), and the competition for Tallinn’s new city hall (Bjarke Ingels Group BIG, 2009) have not been built.

The Living Architecture series of films (directors Ila Bêka and Louise Lemoine) deals with criticism of pearls of contemporary architecture. It considers well-known buildings with pretentious forms from the viewpoint of users (janitors, employees and neighbours): for instance,

8 K. Frampton, Towards Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance. – Postmodern Culture. Ed. H. Foster. London: Pluto Press, 1985, pp. 16–30. 9 K. Frampton, Moodne arhitektuur: kriitiline ajalugu [1980]. Trans. I. Ruudi, E. Näripea. Tallinn: Eesti Kunstiakadeemia, 2011, p. 361. 10 K. Frampton, Hommage á Finlandia: Finnish Architecture and the Unfinished Modern Project. Lecture at the Museum of Estonian Architecture, 14 October 2015 (author’s notes).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 22 the Millennium Church in a suburb of Rome by the architect Richard Meier, Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Art Museum in Bilbao, the villa by Rem Koolhaas, and others.11 Peter Blake stated as early as the 1960s that a constant demand for novelty had developed among the public: ‘The real problem is the demand for novelty. Indeed, all artists, to a degree, are under the same sort of pressure – a pressure familiar enough in the area of consumer goods, where styling must satisfy the demands for new models at regular intervals to keep buyers buying and factories humming, but rarely before applied to the arts.’12

Likewise, Paolo Baratta, the chief organiser of the Venice architecture biennales acknowledges that the 15th Biennale Reporting from the Front (2016) strove to fill the void that prevails between lavish architectural designs and civil society: ‘After the important experimental Biennale developed by Rem Koolhaas, dedicated entirely to the curator’s research, it is our belief that we must follow up with a Biennale that convenes the architects, and is dedicated to the exploration of the new frontier that demonstrate the vitality of architecture, a frontier that spans across various parts of the world and shows architecture engaged in providing specific responses to specific demands. This Biennale intends to react once again to the gap between architecture and civil society, which in recent decades has transformed architecture into spectacle on the one hand, yet made it dispensable on the other.’13 He appeals to the architects of the Biennale to devote themselves to expanding the boundaries of dynamic architecture by meeting specific requirements. Timelessness is an important concept in creative pursuits, which is also what the Finnish architect Juhani Pallasmaa stressed at the SISU interior architecture symposium Ruumimõju / Impact of Space in Tallinn.14 He stated that he had paid critical attention to the aestheticising approach in new Finnish architecture, bearing in mind fashionable artifices that make contemporary architecture superficial. A commercial way of thinking is becoming more and more dominant in the world of architecture: the economy is directing architecture. Pallasmaa defines architecture as

11 The film installation La Maddalena and La Maddalena Chair (from the Living Architectures director duo) at the Venice Architecture Biennale, curated by Rem Koolhaas, published a striking case, juxtaposing the failure of the building of the gigantic Arsenal architectural complex (architect Stefano Boeri) on the small island of Sardinia for the G8 political summit, with the 21st century Robinson Crusoe-like story of the process of making one chair not far away. 12 P. Blake, The Master Builders, p. 416. 13 Alejandro Aravena Appointed Director of the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. – BBC News ArchDaily 18 July 2015, http://www.archdaily.com/770446/alejandro-aravena-appointed- director-of-the-2016-venice-architecture-biennale/ (accessed 8 November 2016). 14 J. Pallasmaa, Body, Mind and Architecture: The Mental Essence of Architecture. Lecture at the SISU symposium, Kanuti Guild, Tallinn, 29 May 2015, https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=ZPzhJOPS2Xg/ (accessed 8 November 2016).

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 23 follows: if interest in architecture as an institution, architecture as a historical, metaphysical process, is forgotten or lost, then architecture is lost and all that will remain of it will be a profession that provides a service. The metaphysical dimension emerges at the moment when we comprehend how the world touches us and we touch the world [---]. Pallasmaa points out that diversification becomes possible if the local context is taken seriously as landscape, climate, culture and specific economic circumstances. At the same time, all architectural tasks are similar: they frame human life and give us an existential anchor.15 Pallasmaa’s phenomenological approach helps to broaden the understanding of the values of space through personal experience (Chapter 2.4 Phenomenology).

Architectural and spatial values are parts of the concept of spatial intelligence. Intelligence is considered to be general cognitive capability. According to the American psychologist Howard Gardner’s theory of multi-intelligence (1983), however, people lack general capability, and he differentiated eight types of intellectual capability, independent of one another: linguistic, logical-mathematical, musi- cal, spatial, bodily-kinaesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal and naturalistic intelligence. Spatial intelligence manifests itself in the capacity to orient oneself in space and in spatial relations, spatial imagination and orientation on maps. It is the capacity to depict the perceptible in spatial relations: to visualise and think about what an object might look like and what sort of space it would fill.16 The architect and academic Leon van Schaik, in his study Spatial Intelligence (2008), discussed place sensitivity as the recognition of important human capacity. It includes the example of Alvar Aalto’s architecture, which reflects local spatial intelligence, tying interior and exterior space in nature together into a unique whole. This book argues for greater continuity between our spatial intelligence and the built environment, which usually surfaces only in eidetic recall, and between this intelligence and architecture.17 I’d like to draw a parallel between people with perfect pitch and those with spatial intelligence who can use their previously perceived experience accurately and vividly, but spatial intelligence is an ability which can be improved through practice. Frampton stresses that in speaking of the social role of architecture, cultural sustainability is important,

15 C. D. Lige, Ükski tõeline arhitekt pole tahtnud olla moodne. – Sirp, 10 July 2015. 16 H. Gardner, Intelligence Reframed: Multiple Intelligences for the 21st Century. New York: Basic Books, 1999. 17 L. van Schaik, Spatial Intelligence: New Futures for Architecture. Chichester: Wiley, 2008, pp. 017–018.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 24 yet it is not easy to formulate this in laws.18 By spatial intelligence, I mean the relation to the local identity in terms of cultural space. Spatial intelligence provides the ability to be creative and solve problems in a way that is appreciated in the local cultural context.

The quality of construction, one important indicator of which is its durability over time, not only physically but also morally, can partially be considered an architectural value. The question of a building’s quality has several dimensions, one of which is the dimension of durability: a hundred years ago, construction was seen as an activity aimed at eternity that could be justified by referring to quality. Nowadays the duration of a building is determined in the course of its project design, starting from 25 years. Quality also has many different meanings: thus quality or values can be thought of as what people simply like and what is associated with the contemporary liberal attitude.

The value of historical buildings is, among other things, of a mystical poetic nature or, in other words, an atmosphere that originates from another time. For instance, the architect Peter Zumthor discusses the value and perceptible atmosphere of architecture:

What do we mean when we speak of architectural quality? It is a question that I have a little difficulty in answering. Quality in architecture… is to me when a building manages to move me. What on earth is it that moves me? How can I get it into my own work? [---] How do people design things with such a beautiful, natural presence, things that move me every single time. One word for it is ‘atmosphere’ [---] I enter a building, see a room, and – in the fraction of a second – have this feeling about it. We perceive atmosphere through our emotional sensibility – a form of perception that works incredibly quickly, and which we humans evidently need to help us survive.19

In addition to the preceding emotional description, the enumeration of material and non-material spatial values (see Chapter 2.4 Phenomenol- ogy) includes diverse viewpoints that are not connected to the factor of time: the relationship to climate, space-sensitivity, good access, human- centred approaches taking users with special needs into account, views that open up from interior space, and naturally the logistics and functionality of space all play important roles. Added to this is the profitable,

18 I. Ruudi, Sajand võitlust vastutustundliku arhitektuuri eest. – Sirp, 6 November 2015. 19 P. Zumthor, Atmospheres. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag AG, 2006, pp. 11–13.

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 25 pragmatic uses of the building, such as energy efficiency, maintenance, operating costs and durability. Flexibility, scale proportions and textures of tangibility can generate emotional delight. The acoustics of a space have an independent value, for instance such acoustics can be perceived in an underground car park where an enormous sound space is situated between its low concrete ceiling and floor. Similarly, natural light coming from an oculus can create architectural value in space.

Fig 6: Pantheon at midday, Rome 2015. Fig 7: Lihula windmill, Estonia 2014. Fig 8: Neues Museum reconstruction by David Chipperfield, Berlin 2015.

Excellent examples are the Pantheon in Rome (115-125 AD) and Peter Zumthor’s Bruder Klaus Field Chapel (2007), created for local farm- ers among the fields of Germany, where natural sunlight is taken into account in their design. At midday, the sunlight falls straight downward in an intense stream of light, which constantly changes the space. I have experienced a similar feeling in midsummer heat in the ruins of a windmill in the tiny town of Lihula in western Estonia.

Artificial light can also create atmosphere even in urban space when the street lighting is designed entirely in the form of mild façade lighting, for instance in Belgium on the riverbanks of the city centre of Ghent. Architectural values are divided into physical or material, and cognitive or intangible values, and their appreciation changes over time. A building’s sensory atmosphere is created by smells, memories and sounds, which Pallasmaa compares to the visual: the way we sense space, a room’s smell and sound, is equivalent to what we see.20 The German philosopher Gernot Böhme defines atmosphere as the meeting of objective spatial designs and subjective experiences, which refers to unique personal experience that does

20 J. Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses. Chichester: Wiley, 2005, p. 7.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 26 not necessarily apply universally.21 While atmosphere is associated with the physical experience of space, rooms and buildings speak of time, and the tactile attributes of architecture are perceptible primarily through the physicality and materiality of architecture. Themes associated with atmosphere, such as concealment and revelation, rhythm and sound, opaqueness and transparency, are revealed precisely through materiality.22

Fig 9: Bruder Klaus Field Chapel by Peter Zumthor, Germany 2011.

It is also possible to recall a place according to a particular characteristic material or lighting, and one’s personal feelings. The experience of space is primarily individual, yet certain generalisations naturally occur there. One of my spatial experiences from childhood is my grandmother’s story of how when she was sent from the countryside to town (Pärnu) to attend school, she slept at the house of relatives in their spacious vestibule under a piano beside a rubber tree. This mental image, which contains the child- ish fear of a large, cool and unfamiliar room, has not become blurred by later reality. I also remember riding up and down in the miniature wooden lift in the splendid former Krediidipank [Credit Bank] building completed in the centre of Tallinn according to the design of Eliel Saarinen (1912) where, among other institutions, the Eesti Raamat publishing house, my mother’s workplace, was located during the Soviet era. The careful closing of the lift’s double doors and metal grating was necessary for the tiny lift chamber to slowly start moving. The smell of lacquered wooden walls and their distinctive creak: I have recently recognised something like this in the old lift of Tartu’s former cathedral, which is currently the University of Tartu Museum of History. I have intuitively looked for manifestations of such nuances in the course of site-specific projects and ultimately tried to consciously amplify them.

21 G. Böhme, Atmosphere as Mindful Physical Presence in Space. – OASE 2013, no. 91, pp. 21–31; G. Böhme, Encountering Atmospheres, OASE 2013, no. 91, pp. 93–99. 22 K. Havik, G. Tielens, Material and Atmosphere. – Ehituskunst 2015, no. 58, p. 97.

CONTEXT – Motives and Research Questions 27 In summary, the following sub-themes inspired me: tangible and intangible spatial values in architecture, and principles of preserving historical buildings in balancing this preservation. I argue that, in the case of historical buildings, only the physical substance of the building is valued by heritage protectors, and its intangible values are not protected. In practice, research on intangible values is usually lacking.

How is it possible to find the best interaction between a contemporary user and a historical building? I argue that often in the revitalization of derelict buildings there is a lack of contact with the possible users in the functional re-purposing process. I have set the goal of focussing on extending the concept of spatial intervention in this dissertation and experimenting as a spatial practitioner with approaches that facilitate finding and highlighting spatial attributes in order to appreciate the mental (emotional) and social spatial level that has been overshadowed in the built environment.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 28 29

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS

Spatial values are differentiated in the built environment in terms of how people value these places. Certain places attract people. Architecture and the entire spatial environment turn them into meeting places where people like to be. Upon closer examination, field lines that contain the potential for active use and living are revealed in these places.

 Fig 10: Couvent Sainte-Marie de La Tourette by Le Corbusier and Iannis Xenakis (1960), near Lyon 2016. 31 2.1 ABOUT THEORY AND PRACTICE IN INTERIOR ARCHITECTURE

Interior architecture/design is a discipline which deals with the interaction of public/private spaces and users, in other words with people and their modes of habituation in a spatial context. Instead of universal spatial (interior architectural) solutions, each space is a unique case which requires a special contextual approach. Interior architecture has broken out of its indoor boundaries and nowadays affects urban space as well as world-views: the influence of space on people and people’s influence on space are themes in the interior architect’s visual field and on their work desks, even if spatial intervention is marginal. How does space affect people and how do people affect space? What kinds of spatial intervention inspire us? The hidden connections found in the interaction of place and activity, or which places have the qualities to evolve into meeting places, must also be sought. Which creative means can a professional use to intervene in space, and how can refraining from intervention affect the atmosphere of a space? The built environment has reached the level where architects are more and more focused on reconstructions and the space between buildings. At the professional level, primarily interior architects/designers deal with creating interior space. The occupation of interior architecture is generally defined by Graeme Brooker and Sally Stone: ‘as the practice of remodelling existing buildings where the robust reworking of a building, interior architecture also deals with complex structural, environmental and servicing problems, but also referred to as adaption and adaptive reuse.’23 Interior design is defined as: ‘an interdisciplinary practice that is concerned with the creation of a range of interior environments that articulate identity and atmosphere, through the manipulation of spatial volume, the placement of specific objects and furniture and the treatment of surfaces.’24 And the term interior decoration is: ‘the art of decorating inside spaces and rooms to impart a particular character and atmosphere to a room [---] concerned with surface pattern, ornament, furniture, soft furnishing and lighting.’25 My professional field is interior architecture. In Estonia, interior architecture has been taught academically as a separate profession since the middle of the 20th century, and professional interior architects have vigorously proven themselves with interesting projects as the creators of modernist architectural interiors since the

23 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 172. 24 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 172. 25 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 172.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 32 1960s. The role of the interior architect admittedly depends on concrete cultural space: for instance, in Finland, the interior architect (sisustusarkkitehti) typically draws up the plan for the furnishings, and in Denmark and Latvia, there is no independent school of interior architects. Practice-based research in architecture and interior architecture at the doctoral level is a relatively new phenomenon in Europe, America and Australia. The relationship to the international context has enabled me to draw parallels and analyse differences, and also to test possible approaches in the practical work of learning and teaching at several universities. According to Suzie Attiwill, the profession of interior design/interior architecture has no defined theoretical background, particularly in the practical context, which is determined primarily by budgets and deadlines based on business interests. Conceptions of space and subjectivity are not questioned but assumed as natural givens in practice. Citing a key figure in postmodern French philosophy, Gilles Deleuze, Attiwill has presented the idea of practical philosophy as a philosophy focused on ‘how?’, on actions, as distinct from one which tries to answer the question ‘what?’: thinking takes place through doing.26 The nature of interior architecture as a profession, its practice and theory are in constant dynamic change together. The process of learning through doing, i.e. the possible interaction between the academic teaching process under the supervision of practitioners, was investigated in the first doctoral thesis by an interior designer in Montreal’s McGill University (2003).27

We ordinarily speak of architecture in terms of buildings: where do the boundaries of the field of work of the interior architect begin and end in public and private space nowadays? At what point does architecture become interior space and vice versa? The times when the Danish modernist architect Arne Jacobsen designed the first high-rise hotel, SAS House in Copenhagen, right down to the last door handle and uniform seems to belong to the past, as is true for the functionalist villa completed according to the drawings of the Estonian architect Olev Siinmaa, together with the kitchen furnishings and hooks for the clothesline. Why does this sort of model for creating space not work any more? Traditions and local identity are spoken of in the spatial context, even though these phenomena tend to become unified in today’s globalising world. Does a well-designed interior reflect the identity of the user or is it primarily the interior architect’s personal style that is manifested in the

26 S. Attiwill, Practical Philosophy. – SISU—LINE 2015, no. 1, pp. 42–57. 27 T. Poldma, An Investigation of Learning and Teaching Processes in an Interior Design Class: An Interpretive and Contextual Inquiry. Doctoral Thesis. Montreal: McGill University, 2003.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 33 work? Interior architects/designers follow very different creative approaches, and here perhaps lies the strength of the speciality’s professional approach. Sometimes the interior architect acts as a buffer between the customer and the architect by giving the space the expected human dimension. Is the interior architect born with an identity, which is developed through schooling, or does the everyday locality in the form of the surrounding environment prove to be the decisive factor?28 Brooker discussed the nature of interior architecture as a theoretically nebulous field at the SISU symposium, arguing that its allure lies in its elusiveness, freedom from rules and ambiguity. Openness and the absence of rules and systems are two of the most captivating attributes of interiors. Space can be thought of, and interior space can be created and used, in endlessly different ways, generating a spatial geography as an integral system that allows the way that space is used to be interpreted in very different ways.29 The borders between urban space and interior space are disappearing. For example, there are the pedestrian underground tunnels and pathways in huge shopping centres, which are more or less controlled open public spaces. According to Brooker, the manner in which space is used and inhabited and the extent to which the designer can control it are of vital environmental importance.30

Fortunate experiences and contacts have given me the chance to curate the SISU international interior architecture symposiums in cooperation with the Association of Estonian Interior Architects and the Estonian Academy of Arts Department of Interior Architecture, which has shaped my professional attitudes and viewpoints. The encouragement of the discussion of the nature and development of the profession of interior architecture in today’s changing world has led me to cooperation with the board of the European Association of Interior Architects (ECIA). ECIA has drawn up and revised the European Charter of Interior Architecture Training, which in accordance with the Bologna Declaration (1999) is in harmony with international standards and agreements in defining the nature and level of education of interior architecture as a profession, and in guiding

28 The Estonian Association of Interior Architects in cooperation with the Estonian Academy of Arts Department of Interior Architecture and Furniture Design held the SISU international symposium Sisearhitektuur – teooriast praktikani / Interior Architecture – Dynamics of theory and practice in Tallinn on 11-14 June 2014, where recognised theorists and practitioners in the architectural field from Estonia and abroad met (curator T.-K.Vaikla). Critical discussion of the identity, naming, boundaries and environment to be created in the professional context was held in the SISU 2014 Roundtable: Mõttekoda. – SISU—LINE 2015, no. 1, pp. 195–213. 29 G. Brooker, The Interior Condition: Impact and Agency. – SISU—LINE 2016, no. 2, pp. 31–44. 30 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 114.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 34 the development of curricula at universities.31 In the professional project design of interior architectural space, the real approach and the emotional approach are inversely proportional to each other: when dealing with physical space, emotional perception disappears and, vice versa, by focusing only on mental space, the functional, practical needs of that space may go unresolved. In Estonia, education in interior architecture has traditionally focused on physical space. There is quite often a lack of the expected attention and competence in combining a phenomenological sense of space with constructive project design in the work process. The qualification certificate issued by the Estonian Qualifications Authority, based on Europe’s qualifications framework (EQF), verifies the professional level of the interior architect. In contemporary built society, it is important to focus on spiritual and social space in parallel with physical space.

Ever more sensitive reactions to actual changes are particularly expected from the field of education. The contemporary human being is in constant nomadic movement: one’s temporary dwelling or so called ‘own space’ for living and working can be self-generated without any need for the help of the professional interior architect/ designer. The attraction and pain of extremely rapid intermittent changes directly affect future lifestyle. Does the trace of the stamp of personal spatial experience depend above all on a specific place or rather on the temporal dimension that has been inhabited somewhere in solitude at a tender age? What should be remembered if many various experiences are concealed in the corners of the memory and even in the human body? How should one highlight these visual memories, make choices and translate them emotionally into the language of different materials? A certain personal narrative or preceding experience influences the experience of space. In the case

31 ‘The aim of the Charter of Interior Architecture Training is to serve as a reference document for the Interior Architecture profession and educational institutions to define objectives and scope of Interior Architecture training, and to describe the standard of the entry level to the profession. The aims and objectives of the ECIA Charter of Interior Architecture Training are to define the skills and the training necessary for a qualified practitioner to competently engage in the profession of Interior Architecture and by doing so to provide a guideline for curricula development in educational institutions. The European Charter of Interior Architecture Training is modelled on the Bologna Declaration (Joint Declaration of the European Ministers of Education, 1999), and based upon national and international standards and agreements on the entry level in the interior architectural and design professions. The Charter uses the terms “Interior Architect” and “Interior Architecture” as the common description in most of Europe for the profession. In those countries the general description for the profession is “Interior Design” and where applicable “Interior Architect(ure)” should be read as “Interior Design(er)” or vice versa.’ (Charter. European Council of Interior Architects. https://ecia.net/education/ charter/ accessed 21 February 2017).

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 35 of phenomenological experience, one must account for the fact that one’s personal perception depends on one’s state of mind. Gaston Bachelard ascribes essential cognitive meaning to a person’s personal experiences and recorded memories, which affect future events and experiences of both the person and the surrounding spatial environment. According to Bachelard, everyone has their own personal childhood room in their subconscious that seemingly has nothing to do with the conscious design of space. Bachelard’s description of a house in the vertical dimension, from the cellar to the attic, highlights the primary task of the phenomenologist: to find the original ’seashell’ in every abode, every castle. The inhabitants of big cities live in boxes stacked one on top of another. The absence of intimate values in the verticality of big city buildings makes the relations between the abode and space artificial. Buildings do not belong in nature any more.32 A Mati Unt-like33 contradictory solitude in a populous concrete panel city building, which exudes the boredom of the standardised world of the block of flats, is also associated with the experience of my own early past. The attraction of urbanist anonymity, which was true to the era regardless of locality, was concealed in the large scale of this, Tallinn’s first Soviet-era modernist residential district. My childhood could have proceeded somewhere else as well: in some exactly identical standard flat in the building next door, or in another city, or even in another country where concrete panel construction prolifer- ated. I remember wandering around in the enormous carcass of a half-finished nine-storey silicate block of flats (architect Raine Karp). The physical and social environment of my school years consisted of series 1-464 of the USSR-wide concrete panel model buildings. The layout of their flats had grown out of Germany’s Existenz-minimum principle of the 1920s, where flats with small rooms and tiny kitchens were primarily meant as places to spend the night. All daytime life was concentrated in the social public sphere, in cafeterias, day nursery groups, after school groups for school children, pioneer and sports camps, cinemas and theatres, culture centres and others: all in the service of working women and men. People’s spatial needs were based on statistics from quantitative studies. Quite a few buildings of an experimental nature were completed as exceptions. Admittedly, there were unique designs by the renowned modernist architect Tiit Hansen in our Mustamäe home: a lemon-yellow dining table that could be folded up or down attached to the dark brown stained ribbed wall in the living room. Modern armchairs, bookshelves integrated into the

32 G. Bachelard, Ruumipoeetika [1957]. Trans. K. Sisask. Tallinn: Vagabund, 1999, p. 39. 33 Mati Unt is an Estonian writer who is famous for his philosophical novel about the life in Tallinn’s first Soviet-era modernist residential district: M. Unt, Sügisball. Tallinn: Eesti Raamat, 1978.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 36 walls of the study, a pull-out divan bed and desk, and an enormous copper funnel made at the ARS cooperative have all held up to this day. As déjà-vu, the learning assignments of students in today’s more innovative fields of architecture at European and Estonian universities are aimed at rediscovering different forms of cooperation in social life. In the everyday atmosphere of the depletion of resources, global warming, total population migration, and the intensifying danger of terrorism, there are no more ideal landscape type approaches, and ever more social projects are approached from a position of austerity. The building of standard model flats in their diverse forms is once again under discussion, with total settlements with miniature boxes in row houses as their examples, for instance in Dessau-Törten near Bauhaus, which originate from Walter Gropius from the early years of modernism, or examples from Portugal of Alvaro Siza’s later public housing projects (1973–1978) in Evora (Malagueira) and Porto (Bouca and Sao Victor). All of these developments were inspired by the needs of local factories for housing for their workers based on the industrial mass production of building construction details. The manufacturing industry has faded away from the urban environment nowadays, yet the typification of dwellings and economical construction are widespread as architecturally simple manifestations in Hol- land and elsewhere.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 37 2.2 CREATIVE METHODS AND CONCEPTS

The possibilities for the alteration and conversion of (interior) space in the reuse of abandoned, leftover or vacant buildings in the course of functional re-purposing – quests for creative connections between gentrification theory, social processes, cultural heritage preservation and spatial values – and the practice of interior architecture have inspired me to create site-specific exhibition projects that have developed into the creative section of this study.

In my research, I deal with questions related to changing (interior) space, which I refer to as re-purposing space because the process derives from the reuse of abandoned, leftover or vacant buildings through finding a new function for the space.34 The objective of this research is to find new methods for (interior) architects/designers to relate to space in the process of the sustainable re-purposing of a building, taking into account the physical, mental and social levels of space. Reuse of an existing building, according to Brooker and Stone, may also be described as ‘transformation’. ‘Reuse’ suggests that the elements of both new and old buildings are reworked in order to create new space. Also, ‘adaptation’ is the process of transforming an existing building to accommodate new uses.35 The built spatial environment contains within itself a wealth of information concerning different narratives in the historical context. Historical buildings function as ‘memory containers’, so to speak, for (local) people, both former and future users. I study and test different abandoned spaces through spatial intervention, focusing on the arousal of emotions and senses in discovering the values of a space. In this creative approach, I attempt to explore the boundaries where contemporary views and innovative ideas of today’s world meet one of a kind historical traditions. I attempt to involve the local community in the process of revitalising abandoned buildings with the aim of finding the values of a space, tangible or intangible. Thus I deal primarily with space that is inseparable from place. I define space on the basis of my practical experience as an interior architect primarily as interior space that is phenomenologically perceptible through all five senses: vision (approximately 80%), sound, smell, touch and taste. I am interested

34 I have previously published on the subject in T.-K. Vaikla, Re-Purposing the Past. – Idea Journal 2014, pp. 14-27; T.-K. Vaikla, Declining Modernity. – Reflections 17: Research Training Session 2012. Ed. Johan Verbeke. Brussels/Gent: KU Leuven Faculty of Architecture, Sint-Lucas School of Architecture, 2013, pp. 126–139; T.-K. Vaikla, Spatial Snapshot. – Reflections 16: Research Training Session 2011. Ed. Gudrun De Maeyer. Brussels/Gent: KU Leuven Faculty of Architec- ture, Sint-Lucas School of Architecture, 2012, pp. 104–111. 35 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, pp. 170–174.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 38 in the impact of space on people and people’s impact on space.36 The Critical Spatial Practice book series (editors N. Hirsch and M. Miessen) constructs a larger discursive foundation about how space can be interpreted as a political medium within which action can take place. Jane Rendell suggested a new term (2003), ‘critical spatial practice’, which allows people to describe work that transgresses the limits of art and architecture and engages with both the social and the aesthetic, the public and the private. The term ‘critical spatial practice’ draws attention not only to the importance of the critical, but also to the spatial, indicating the interest in exploring the specifically spatial aspects of interdisciplinary processes, or practices that oper- ate between art and architecture.’37 I am interested in the encounters between people and space or, in other words, people’s relation to a specific space in a surprising or random way, where an unexpected reference to indicating spatial values is manifested. My case studies (Chapters 4 to 6) have developed from this, becoming actions of a particular kind aimed at the diverse perception of the integrity of a building’s architectural form and the nature of a space, the experience of treatment, and the application of experiences. Concealed strata are added to the physical nature of a place: connections between people’s memory and experience. I call this critical spatial practice.

The site-specific exhibition projects, or spatial interventions, that I have curated are an attempt to stimulate dialogue between forgotten traditions of the past and new, evolving traditions; in other words: spatial interventions denote the translation of the potential of a building into the language of the contemporary user. The Berlin-based artist Nairy Baghramian defines site-specificity as an artistic method that does not presume the autonomy of the artwork, but rather reflects on contextual conditions and referential possibilities relating to various registers, such as the economic, political, social and cultural. These can be tested on the basis of institutions and their own networks of conditions.38 As a practising interior architect, or a spatial practitioner, I am interested in what people say about architecture and how they say it – about buildings, space, place and location – through which the background system is also manifested to the viewer, ena- bling each different case to relate to a specific set of problems in the process of revitalising an abandoned place. Thus my creative approach is closely associated with specific spaces and places, and

36 J. Pallasmaa, Body, Mind and Architecture. – SISU––LINE 2016, no. 2, pp. 11–27. 37 J. Rendell, Art and Architecture: A Place Between. London: IB Tauris, 2006. 38 N. Baghramian, Essence of the House. – What is Critical Spatial Practice? I. Eds. N. Hirsch, M. Miessen. Berlin: Sternberg Press, 2012, p. 17.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 39 their intertwining with human relations.39 According to Timo Maran, the connection with the surrounding environment is often the only advantage that local culture has, compared to global culture: ‘Global culture is self-sufficient, acquiring identity through abstract ideas and value judgements projected beyond itself, like universal values, symbols, ideals. The focus of local culture, on the other hand, is aimed more at the surrounding environment. The distinct features that characterise it derive mostly from its connection to the environment.’40

Narration is interesting in terms of places and spaces. According to Kaia Lehari, narrative from the personal perspective is offered as a restorative description. Narratives have a metaphoric role: they describe the world in a fresh way, revealing new meanings and feelings. ‘Places remind us of stories and it is precisely thanks to stories that places exist’.41 This refers to people’s consciousness in relating to stories, which is primarily connected with emotions. Aboriginal nomads, for instance, have from generation to generation described their long journeys from one mountain to another through the red sandy desert in the form of narratives, which were originally drawn on sand. I have experienced the magic of the topographical narratives of contemporary Australian aboriginal art in their paintings in the art museums and galleries of Sydney and Melbourne. These unique narratives in ‘pointillist’ technique are collected for the permanent expositions of well-known museums in Europe and America.

As a curator and co-author of site-specific exhibitions, I have tried to comprehensively test various means of approaching historical buildings by way of my three creative exhibition projects: I have interviewed professionals, local people and officials associated with buildings and tried to find various actual solutions and ways of approaching the revitalisation and use of buildings from the viewpoint of the architect/designer. I use emotional lighting and sensitive sound to help people to notice distinctive nuances of the nature of a space, to sense its atmosphere, and contemplate its

39 Valuable local examples where the community and practice are related recently: Linnalabor [Urban Lab] is a testing ground for urban innovations, working on new solutions to improve and diversify the urban life. The Lab is all about experimenting, projects involve scientific, social and artistic methods. www.linnalabor.ee (accessed 22 February 2017). The students site-specific project Lasnaviljamäe (2016, Estonian Academy of Arts, Department of Interior Architecture by Ann Press, Andrea Tamm) which brought a rural barleyfield into the urban context, but at the same time it focussed into the relationship of local Russian community and Estonian identity. 40 T. Maran, Lokaalsuse ökosemiootilisi aluseid. – Koht ja paik / Place and Location II. Eds. V. Sarapik, K. Tüür, M. Laanemets. Tallinn: Eesti Kunstiakadeemia, 2002, pp. 89. 41 K. Lehari, Ruum. Keskkond. Koht, p. 58.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 40 potential. These (creative) spatial interventions have provided the opportunity to experience the emotions and reactions that spatial interventions generate in the local community and in exhibition visitors (the public).

Fig 11: Collection of aboriginal art (fragments), the Art Gallery of New South Wales (NSW), Sydney 2013.

Here is a point where aesthetics meets design activism as an innovative approach. As background material, I have also selectively exhibited information gathered from the local community and other people connected with historical buildings. In the case of spatial interventions in which I change the effect of space through various means of design and installation solutions – thus through design – I have started with the perception of space as an individual experience that is affected by both social and cultural background. At the same time, perceptible space is also not only optical space but also a multi-layered sensory experience. This approach is also referred to nowadays as design activism, which is known as creative problem- solving, or according to Harrison Fraker: ‘Design activism is “problem seeking”: it is proactive, it chooses an issue (or set of issues) and explores it (or them) from a critical, sometimes ideological perspective. It uses design to recognize latent potential and makes it visible. It explores “absences” in everyday life and gives them a “presence”. It reveals new ways of seeing the world, and challenges existing paradigms.’42

Gentrification or vitalisation as a sociological concept makes it possible to contextualise this study in a transdisciplinary manner: the methodology of this research touches on such fields as urban

42 H. Fraker, Welcome to DA. – Frameworks 2005, no. 1 (Spring), p. 3.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 41 studies, environmental aesthetics and urban geography, which in turn are connected to the international labour market, immigration and the emergence of global cities. I began my research with the aim of analysing the changes in spatial configuration set in motion here in Estonia as the consequences of the gentrification process – the transformation of buildings and developments in interiors – that arise from the connections of gentrification with economic and social shifts and their combined effects. Gentrification in cities is mainly connected to the movement of people, which can be observed as a manifestation of urban construction in the re-use of (industrial) buildings to function as living space. It is important in considering this topic to appreciate the spatial environment in the architectural sense, as well as the local community in the cultural sense. Local peculiarities in this process are apparent in the context of recent history, characterised by the absence of the regulatory role of the socialist era market, demographic changes and other such phenomena. My interest in ways of reusing and reinterpreting buildings has developed in my practice as an interior architect from projects associated with manifestations of gentrification. Gentrification as a process is an intensifier of changes in the spatial and built environment. Housing costs (rents) rise as a result of an area’s development, and the original aura that generated a (creative) community lifestyle and inspired self-generated initiatives and developments disappears with the replacement of the area’s residents.

What are the effects of spatial intervention on the public, and can broader generalisations also be made by observing different cases? Various phenomena are taking place in the physical and social environment in parallel with manifestations of gentrification, including the shrinking of cities, which is also spreading to villages and brings with it the problem of the total abandonment of buildings. There are different possibilities of reacting to this. The functioning of sustainable life requires a different, more sensitive approach to the re- purposing of historical buildings than legislation has been capable of enacting.

The role of architecture and spatial values is often ignored in the course of contemporary pragmatic (interior) architectural project design and the functional re-purposing of space: in other words, spatial intelligence has been forgotten in a site-specific sense. In the transformation of buildings, only the building’s physical substance is protected in Estonia by the Heritage Conservation Act, but the non-material values of buildings are not protected. Invisible spatial values have been lost in fixed-up houses. How should places

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 42 and users with potential be related to? The non-material values of a building can be found by way of a phenomenological approach by using the perception of spatial intelligence, which has been part of site-specific exhibition projects testing case studies. Since the theme of involving people and the creation of meaning has an important place in this study, in the theoretical part I make sense of this theme in terms of phenomenology, where the environment is not just a space surrounding us that is designed with objects, but rather a part of the environment, and its designer and participant are also affected by knowledge and personal memories.

The creative practice research method of my dissertation involves spatial interventions, where, on the basis of phenomenological cognition, I create spatial solutions that help to discover the values of space and refer to its multi-layered nature. Highlighting these strata is an important step in preserving invisible spatial values in interior architecture in the course of the functional re-purposing of space, or in how people experience and comprehend the world, creating meaning for a spatial place. I seek answers for the questions that have been posed – how is it possible to find an interaction of contemporary user and historical building in the functional re-purposing process? and what should be borne in mind when speaking of architectural and spatial values? – in the format of the exhibition as an event at the physical and mental level, and that of social space.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 43 2.3 MULTI-LAYERED SPACE

The historical alteration of the treatment of space is connected to the modification of relations between people and nature, which are in constant flux depending on the cultural context. In speaking of space in ordinary language, interior space is borne in mind for the most part, but it is considered as a part of the architectural whole. Interior space or interiors also cannot be analysed as independent phenomena in altering the function of a building. This is clearly a part of the field of architecture. The professional approach requires an appreciation of the local context – of the surrounding spatial and built environment, of history and the population. Loca- tion means the involvement of identity and activity. In this sense, place is context. Location analysis is undertaken transdisciplinar- ily: in philosophy, anthropology, urban geography, urban studies and environmental aesthetics. Architecture was more the domain of practitioners until the architectural theory boom emerged. Funda- mental studies of space conducted by philosophers, where human existence is connected primarily to space, appeared in the 1960s when the first English translations were published: G. Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (1958), O. F. Bollnow, Human Space (1963), chapter on space M. Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Percep- tion (1962), preceded by M. Heidegger, Being and Time (1962).

Different societies, groups and individuals live their lives and realise themselves in different spaces. They are always assembled around human activity: people-centres. They multiply and change as part of the everyday practical lives of individuals and groups. According to Lehari, the interpretation of the attributes of space depends on individual spatial experiences that are understood and generated differently by different individuals and societies, and as a result we cannot speak of a universal nature of space. At the same time, spatial experience cannot be neutral and unambiguous; rather, it takes place in accordance with age, gender, social belonging and relations with other people. Since space is understood and experienced differently, it also is a contradictory, conflicting means by which individuals act and are affected by actions. The distinct features of a space are always comprehensible only in context. Space is a network of relations between things and places. Thus, there is no space that is not relative. Social relations, and natural and cultural objects generate space. Space, in turn, affects the relations between them.43

43 K. Lehari, Ruum. Keskkond. Koht, pp. 46–48.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 44 Thus individual experience affects the perception and comprehension of space. Brooker and Stone mention in their analysis of context and environment: ‘The setting in which an interior is situated provides its context. The analysis of context is the understanding of the spirit of the place (genius loci) and its physical, visual, aural and prevailing character. The environment has much more to do with the natural and climatic conditions of the area – the study of the weather, the atmosphere, the ambience of the space. The two are examined as distinct but concurring, inextricably linked entities. They are not mutually exclusive and there are inevitable overlaps both in the influence they have on the design and in the way in which they are examined. The particular characteristics of a specific situation can influence the redesign of an existing space.’44 So, in analysing the links of context and interior space, they have reached into location, history (narration), external connections and threshold, visual connections and logistics (movement). In analysing the connections between environment and interior, they include climate, light, temperature, orientation, view/aspect and materials.

Spatial context constantly changes over time. Lefebvre has expanded the concept of space the most, introducing the concept of social space: the space of social practice, the experience of everyday life, real space, which is tied to communication between people, habitual customs and traditions, where the phenomenon of perception takes place, as well as deposited experience and memory. Spatial practices are directly tied to social space, where a person creates social space through some kind of particular activity in a specific environment, and that concrete practice and the individual himself are part of that social space: social space reproduces itself through spatial practices. According to Lefebvre’s three inseparable concepts of space, tangible space ranks first, meaning actually perceptible physical space as people’s everyday space that reproduces itself by way of experience. Arising from this, actual physical space has meaning in creating identity, since the notion of us and others takes shape through spatial relationships. Next is imagined or mental space, which is emotional and spiritual: connected to the intellect, imagery, ideals, conceptions, place, design plans and developments by which we practice human spatiality in an abstract way (for instance, spatial plans and development plans). And the third is lived space, or social space, where imagined and actually perceptible spaces intertwine. The spaces of these representations make alternative spatial practices possible. Lefebvre has tried to bridge the gap between the mental and social,

44 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 006.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 45 between philosophy and reality. Lefebvre places the user of space and its creator (designer) at the centre of attention.45 In the urban context, the urban geographer Jussi Jauhiainen brings together a simple trichotomy: concrete, mental and social space. Concrete space is the physical environment where human activity takes place. Men- tal space is a person’s subjective image of the city and its different places and meanings. Social space is associated with human activity, where concrete and mental space meet social activity.46

While Lefebvre associates his notion of spatial practices with the existing social space as a creator and reproducer, Michel de Certeau points out the individuality of practices and their dependence on the motives of a particular person. According to de Certeau, tactics play a role here. This depends on the interests of a particular person and is not completely subject to official strategic practices. De Cer- teau makes sense of place through order. According to him, place is order (whichever kind of order), according to which elements are divided up in relation to their coexistence. This rules out the possibility that two things could be located in the same place. The law of ‘property’ prevails in a place: the observed elements are beside one another, each in its ‘own’ clearly distinguishable place, which that element then also defines. Thus a place is a configuration of positions at a certain moment. This presumes that a place is characterised by a certain stability. He considers space, on the other hand, to be variable and defines it through physical concepts: he argues that space exists as soon as direction vectors, the quantity of speed, and time as a variable are taken into account. Thus the intersec- tion of moving elements generates space. The amount of movement unleashed in a space gives it life in a certain sense. Space is in relation to place in the same way that a word changes when it is spoken, i.e. when it finds itself in the ambiguous grip of performance and becomes a term dependent on many conventions. Therefore, unlike place, space is not characterised by the non-ambiguity and stability of ‘property’.47 In its predetermination, de Certeau’s place is, in a certain sense, similar to the concept of space in the way that it is understood in human geography and location philosophy: he considers place to be static and space to be more living, more dynamic.

45 H. Lefebvre, The Production of Space [1974]. Trans D. Nicholson-Smith. Oxford, Cambridge: Blackwell, 2012, p. 11. 46 J. Jauhiainen, Linnageograafia: linnad ja linnauurimus modernismist postmodernismini. Tallinn: Eesti Kunstiakadeemia, 2005, p. 72. 47 M. de Certeau, Igapäevased praktikad. I Tegemiskunstid. Trans. M. Lepikult. Tartu: Tartu Ülikooli Kirjastus, 2005, pp. 179–180.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 46 2.4 PHENOMENOLOGY

The non-material values of a building can be discovered through a phenomenological approach by applying the perception of spatial intelligence. The creative method of my study involves spatial interventions, where, on the basis of phenomenological sensibility, I create spatial solutions that help to discover the values of space and refer to its multi-layered nature. Highlighting these layers is an important step in transmitting invisible spatial values in interior architecture in the course of functional re-purposing.

In addition to the pragmatic approach, the contemporary world deals with the theme of re-use at the mental level as well, where the functional re-purposing of buildings requires a relation to the surrounding spatial environment and to its inhabitants. The starting point for phenomenology is a person’s direct contact with the world: the concreteness of this way of thinking, its closeness to actual life, and the way that phenomenology manages to combine the everyday experience of the world with philosophical thought has fascinated its followers.48 According to Maurice Merleau-Ponty, phenomenology is a philosophy in which the world is always ‘already here’, before reflection, as an inalienable presence, and the aspiration of which is to rediscover the original connection to the world in order to ultimately give it philosophical status.49

Phenomena are things as we consciously perceive them, not things as they really are, independent of our experience. Phenomenology is the study of things in the experience of our consciousness, the study of how things appear to be, not of how they actually are. Phenomenology broadens the concept of the content of consciousness, which is not such states of mind as sensory contemplations or theoretical thinking, but the perception, recollection, imagination, wishing, reflection, intuitive cognition or repulsion of something: syntheses of acts on different levels of consciousness are formed, which are necessary for perceiving the narrative as a whole, the formation of one’s own ‘self’.50

48 E. Annus, Modernsuse filosoofiad. – 20. sajandi mõttevoolud. Ed. E. Annus. Tallinn-Tartu: Tartu Ülikooli Kirjastus, 2009, pp. 9–29. 49 M. Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception [1945]. Trans. C. Smith. London/New York: Routledge, 2009, p. i. 50 T. Viik, Fenomenoloogia. – 20. sajandi mõttevoolud, p. 216.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 47 In short, phenomena are very natural and universal. Phenomenology is both philosophy and method, where the little things that are in use are studied, where notions and perception are studied instead of reality. Phenomenological analysis shows that syntheses of different levels and cognitive horizons that the consciousness synthesises into a single whole characterise the perception of an object. According to the founder of phenomenological philosophy, Edmund Husserl, the whole is polarised into internal (the thing as a whole) and external (the object is perceptible in the field of other things) horizons. ‘Spa- tial synthesis’ occurs when internal and external objects are joined together. Temporal horizons are also added, for instance a synthesis of perceptions from the past and potential perceptions in the future emerge when listening to a melody. A kind of horizon of expectation is also formed in the consciousness in relation to the perspectives that the movement of things brings forth.51 In Merleau-Ponty’s view, phenomenology was aimed at studying the bodily horizons of experience in order to create a general theory of corporeality that makes sense of how phenomenology can, in mutual cooperation with science and art, describe the existence of the bodily in the world. According to him, language develops from bodily experience of the world, since it is an organ of perception and communication. Think- ing is embodied in speech just as the spirit is embodied in the body. Language does not come from a space free of communication, but rather from common pre-linguistic communicative behaviour.52 Since the phenomenological method analyses and describes experiences, it is also empirical in a particular way. In Edmund Husserl’s opinion, the phenomenological method can be applied from the position of the self. Following Husserl, Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty have placed value on people’s social involvement with others: we habitually deal with the perception and comprehension of the experiences of others, sometimes mistakenly.53

In order to draw broad-ranging generalisations concerning why people like particular environments, it is important to more broadly understand the preferences and behavioural patterns of the user of contemporary space. Arnold Berleant has formulated environmental aesthetics as the flow of aesthetic experience or feelings of the involvement of people, and of meanings that denote participation and different points of contact in life that are affected by knowledge, experiences

51 T. Viik, Fenomenoloogia, pp. 219–221. 52 T. Viik, Fenomenoloogia, pp. 279–285. 53 T. Viik, Fenomenoloogia, pp. 224–225.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 48 and memory, creating meaning for space.54 According to Berleant, the aesthetic raising of awareness of the environment is extremely important because people vitally need to become aware of their personal environmental experience, which not only has a cognitive aspect but also relates to memory and knowledge. His emphasis that both the individual experience of a person and culture are decisive in the perception of environment is important. Berleant considers the relationship between people and the natural environment, where the abstract site-centred concept of space free of people is replaced by a human- oriented environmentally theoretical treatment. He also discusses the perception of architecture as art: unlike observable art, architecture requires entrance, being inside, and exiting. The architect and cultural heritage expert Lilian Hansar has analysed the city as a space of phenomenological sensibility and meanings. According to her, the environment (including the surroundings, the atmosphere) is not only an external phenomenon, but also contains people, and therefore atmosphere is tied in primarily with the person’s perception.55

The Norwegian modernist and architectural phenomenologist Chris- tian Norberg-Schulz used five concepts of space as his point of departure: pragmatic, perceptive, existential, cognitive and abstract. According to him, pragmatic space helps the individual to perceive the surrounding environment, perceptive or perceptible space shapes identity and allows direct experience, existential space connects people to social and cultural structures, experiential space allows the contemplation of space, and abstract space provides means for perceiving these different spatial levels.56

Juhani Pallasmaa’s The Eyes of the Skin – Architecture and the Senses (1996) developed out of the collected work Questions of Percep- tion: Phenomenology of Architecture (1994) and has become a basic text for the phenomenological treatment of architecture. The repro- duction of Caravaggio’s suggestive The Incredulity of Saint Thomas (1602)57 illustrates the author’s guiding principle of multi-sensory

54 A. Berleant, Living in the Landscape: Toward an Aesthetics of Environment. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1997, pp. 3–11. 55 L. Hansar, Nähtav ja nähtamatu linnas. – Kunstiteaduslikke Uurimusi 2005, vol. 14 (2/3), p. 93. 56 C. Norberg-Schulz, Existence, Space and Architecture. New York/Washington: Praeger Publishers, 1971, p. 11. 57 According to St John’s Gospel, Thomas the Apostle missed one of Jesus’s appearances to the Apostles after His resurrection, and said ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.’ John 20:25. A week later Jesus appeared and told Thomas to touch Him and stop doubting. Then Jesus said, ‘Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’ John 20:29..

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 49 experience or, according to Bachelard, the polyphony of the senses.58 As in his publications, in the public lecture Forest Architecture. Land- scape, Space and Metaphor. Architectural Atmospheres of the North: Forest, Light and Silence, he visualises his thoughts, comparing a pair of photographs or reproductions, the combined effect of which is harmoniously complementary or contrastingly adversarial: ‘the city of participation – the city of alienation; architectures of hear- ing and smell (church); spaces of intimate warmth; the significance of shadow and darkness, vision and hapticity’.59 Pallasmaa defends the sensory and sensual qualities characteristic of architecture and art, which retreat before the commercial thinking of the consumer world, highlighting the important aspects of the phenomenological cognition of space, such as the time factor, components of sound and silence, light and darkness, which function as the result of combined effect and opposite effect. Architecture articulates time just as it articulates space. He poetically calls ‘place a container of the soul, and the soul is a container of place.’60 Yet architecture also has a one- of-a-kind protective function, which protects nature in silence. Light becomes a spatial quality of architecture.61 In today’s pragmatic approach to a building, light has become more of a quantitative element. The window as a mediator has lost its meaning between two worlds: enclosed and open, interiority and exteriority, private and public, light and shadow, the movement of light in space, the mutual effect of light and shadow as inhaling and exhaling. Dimness and darkness also play an important role in space, creating solidarity and amplifying the power of words (e.g. in Alvar Aalto’s Säynätsalo town hall). The sensory experience is directly connected to the body. Pallasmaa places the human body in the central position.

Architectural space frames, reinforces and focuses our thoughts, protecting them from dissipation. Contact with architecture is a multi-sensory experience: the attributes, materiality and size of space can be experienced equally by way of the eye, ear, nose, skin, tongue and muscles. All of the senses are extensions of the sense of touch, including vision, because the gaze only confirms what the skin touches. The eye discerns from a distance the intimate experience of touch.62 The gaze isolates, sound incorporates, or the eye arrives at something, while the ear receives. The perception of

58 G. Bachelard, The Poetics of Reverie: Childhood, Language, and the Cosmos. Boston: Beacon Press, 1971, p. 6. 59 J. Pallasmaa, Forest Architecture: Landscape, Space and Metaphor. Public lecture, Universitá Roma TRE, Rome, 23 March 2015 (author’s notes). 60 J. Pallasmaa, Forest Architecture. 61 J. Pallasmaa, Forest Architecture. 62 J. Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, pp. 40–49.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 50 acoustics is subconscious, yet it is acoustics in particular that create an intimate experience of spatial interiority. Contemporary interiors often absorb sound, which does not allow sounds and voices to carry and echo naturally. Old houses take people back to the silence and slowness of the past. More permanent images in the memory are preserved by way of scent. Scents and tastes are specific in the sense of geography. ‘Vacant, abandoned houses generate a particular hollow smell. [---] The nose makes the eye remember.’63 According to Pallasmaa, architecture at its fundamental level con- sists of verbs. For instance, the door is an invitation to step over the threshold, while the window is an invitation to look. [---] Pallasmaa calls them images that can be experienced and are not just visual.64

The phenomenological values of space are primarily perceptible and among other things also visible. Pallasmaa speaks of creating spatial values in architecture, yet the preservation of perceptible phenomena is equally important. Preservation should also accompany the creation of new values, which are possible only in that space and are relevant at the moment of their creation.

63 J. Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, pp. 51–55. 64 J. Pallasmaa, The Embodied Image. Chichester: Wiley, 2011.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 51 2.5 SPATIAL VALUES AND REMODELLING

What should be borne in mind when speaking of architectural and spatial values? What are the important anchor points in re- purposing historical buildings, and how should the phenomenological approach to space be used in the course of the restoration and reconstruction of valuable old buildings? According to the art historian Alois Riegl, the modern spectator does not find aesthetic gratification from the good preservation of a work but rather from its consistent and endless alteration.65

The restoration of a valuable and unique building is regulated in Estonia by law, with special heritage conservation conditions that include: an overview of the history of the monument, a description of the existing situation, conclusions of studies that have been conducted, an assessment of the building’s technical condition, an overview of the inventory drawn up of structures and details of cultural value, value judgements of parts, structural elements and details of the monument, as well as an assessment of the functions and changes planned for it, and the requirements and restrictions that apply to the project design.66 At this point, it becomes apparent that only the building’s physical substance is protected, i.e. regardless of the aspects listed above, it is not necessarily possible to preserve and achieve spatial values in the old building that can communicate with the new user in terms of their function, mode of use and aesthetics. This includes contemporary conservation, restoration, renovation and remodelling. I use the terms here according to Brooker and Stone: ‘conservation’ is the art of conserving existing structures in their present form or returning them back to the original state. ‘Restoration’ is the process of returning the condition of the building to its original state using materials and techniques of the original period to ensure that the building appears as though it has been constructed. ‘Renovation’ is the process of renewing and updating a building but the function remains the same; the structure is generally untouched, but the manner in which the building is used is brought up to date (e.g. heating and sanitary systems). In ‘remodelling’, the function is the most obvious change, but other alterations may be made to the building, such as

65 A. Riegl, The Modern Culture of Monuments. Its Essence and its Development [1903]. – Historical and Philosophical Issues in the Conservation of Cultural Heritage. Eds N. Stanley- Price, M. K. Talley Jr., A. Melucco Vaccaro. Los Angeles: The Getty Conservation Institute, 1996, pp. 69–83. 66 Heritage Conservation Act, §35. – Riigi Teataja no 27, 20 March 2002.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 52 its structure, circulation routes and orientation. Additions may be constructed and some areas may be demolished.67

The theory and practice of contemporary heritage conservation, the preservation of the distinctive features and values of the environment in the re-use of historical buildings in the course of restoration, rely to a great extent on Riegl’s 19th century philosophical discussions of the concept of historical values. This Austrian art historian sought an answer at the beginning of the 20th century to problems related to how to define the artistic and historical value of a monument and how to make sense of the inevitable contradictions of preserving a monument. The contemporary con- servator Barbara Appelbaum has expanded Riegl’s value theory by grouping the object’s non-material aspects.68 These historical and contemporary value judgements help to systematically explain the points of departure of conservation, as well as to make sense of contemporary approaches to remodelling.

The greater and lesser destructions of the First and Second World Wars in cities brought on the expected vigorous modernisation. In the ensuing chaos, the question arose: what should be rebuilt and how should this be done? None other than Adolf Hitler organised the photographic documentation of valuable buildings and monumental paintings in Germany during the war years (1943–1945) so that if they were destroyed, it would be possible to authentically restore them. Several contemporary art projects have grown out of this documentation.69

Slowing down the too thoughtless abandonment of the past in the post-war renovations became one of the guiding principles of the Venice Charter (1964).70 The Charter formulated the fundamental principles of conservation, which should form

67 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 172–174. 68 B. Appelbaum, Conservation Treatment Methodology. Oxford: Butterworth-Heinemann, 2007, pp. 86–119. 69 An interesting example of this is the video Everything Actually Depends on the Color of Light by the Swiss duo of artists Peter Köhle and Nicolas Vermot in Tallinn at the KUMU exhibition Jutustades lugusid. Šveitsi ja Baltimaade kunstnikud [Telling Stories. Artists from Switzerland and the Baltic States], 2014), which deals with interpretations of this kind of work process proceeding from different cultural contexts: the artists interviewed Rosemarie Nohr, who was a photography student at that time and participated in Hitler’s photo documentation campaign. The script written on the basis of interviews is the basis for the installation. 70 International Charter for the Conservation and Restoration of Monuments and Sites. The Venice Charter 1964. 2nd International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historic Monuments, Venice, 1964. Adopted by ICOMOS in 1965, https://www.icomos.org/charters/venice_e.pdf (accessed 8 November 2016).

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 53 the starting point even today: for instance, copying should be discontinued and the original handiwork of the masters should be preserved as authentically as possible in order to avoid the distortion of history. The new, on the other hand, should bear the spirit of its own age. The Charter placed value in the contextual connections between monuments and history and in the integrity of ensembles as a whole. The theory of the Italian theoretician of restoration Cesare Brandi71 served as the basis for drawing up the Venice Charter. Even so, a large number of charters concentrating on more narrow fields were adopted later on as well, arising from different categories of monuments: the Flor- ence Charter (1981), protecting historical parks, the Washington Charter (1987)72, dealing with urban construction, and the later Nara Document on Authenticity (1994)73, which expands the material aspect of cultural heritage to the spiritual and intellectual sphere, ascribing a much broader meaning to authenticity. In the case of the authenticity of cultural value, the document stresses focusing on the design, materials and function of the object.74 In addition to material, considerably more attention should be directed to the meaning of traditions and heritage. In many cultures, building as a process is more valuable than the structure that is to be completed. The Nara Document places value on the role of studies and developments in order to understand the nature of different cultures in considering authenticity. Based on cultural context, the proposal for drawing up the ‘Development plan for preserving and appreciating Estonia’s cultural heritage until 2030’ has been constructively worked out.75

71 ‘This theory was accused of directing attention to the conservation-restoration of the image, thus neglecting the structural concept altogether (particularly in the case of architecture). Brandi’s theory has been treated more as a theory on the restoration of paintings, even though in his writings, he often refers it architecture in particular. (H. Hiiop. Cesare Brandi on restoration. Lecture at the Estonian Academy of Arts, 20 October 2014 (author’s notes)). 72 Charter for the Conservation of Historic Towns and Urban Areas. (Washington Charter 1987), https://www.icomos.org/charters/towns_e.pdf / (accessed 22 April 2017). 73 E. F. N. Ribeiro, A. Pal, S. Kasiannan, R. Sharma, M. Sharma Saxena and S. Saha, Appendix 01: Nara Document on Authenticity. – Kangla Fort Archaeological Park Concept Development Plan: Charter. Ed. N. Thakur. Kangla Fort Archaeological Park Team, 2003, https://architexturez.net/ doc/az-cf-21197/ (accessed 17 March 2017). 74 A wide range of sources of information is encouraged to be looked into when judging a cultural heritage’s authenticity, such as design, materials and functions. They can in turn shed light on different dimensions of the cultural heritage, such as the historical and social (Nara Document, 1994), https://architexturez.net/doc/az-cf-21197/ (accessed 17 March 2017). 75 Eesti kultuuripärandi hoidmise ja väärtustamise arengukava aastani 2030: koostamise ettepanek, https://www.riigikantselei.ee/valitsus/valitsus/et/valitsus/arengukavad/arengukavade- koostamise-ettepanekud/kultuurip_randi_arengukava_ettepanek.pdf / (accessed 8 November 2016).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 54 In examining developments nowadays, we can observe tendencies in the field of cultural heritage protection directed at helping local people go from the position of observer to that of participant. At the same time, the retention of the original function is often more valuable in the case of heritage – as the contemporary stratum of continuity – than the establishment of a museum or reservation. Here the self-evident nature with which the operation of the original function is considered is questionable.

Fig 12: Valuable private collection in the Byrd Hoffman Watermill Foundation, Long Island, New York 2016.

Old things are preserved because they are valuable. It goes without saying that an old house needs to be fixed up over time. At what point does renovation become restoration, and how should this term be understood? What do we mean by value and heritage? Values – both material and immaterial – that can be ascribed to an object / space are variable over time; they are not constant quantities. In his study, Riegl values not so much the good preservation of a monument, but rather its constant transformation as it ages; he discusses the framework of preservation to prevent destruction.76 The emotionally perceptible value of time is evident, compared to scientific historical value, the measure of which, however, depends precisely on authentic preservation. Thus the concepts of preservation are contradictory. The primary objective of contemporary theory concerning the preservation of monuments is to avoid conflict between temporal value and historical value. Intentional memorial value, on the other hand, helps to stop time. The value of use is of irrefutable importance, which is justifica- tion for intervention. Riegl is against the imprisonment of monuments in museums, which would liberate them from the need for restoration. Riegl disapproves of the restoration of a work as a complete finished whole. According to him, the broad masses mistakenly ascribe artistic value to the new value. He sees the conflict between temporal value, historical value and new value as inevitable. Appelbaum has recently expanded Riegl’s theory and has discussed the non-material aspects

76 A. Riegl, The Modern Culture of Monuments, pp. 69–83.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 55 of objects. She highlights the diverse and ambiguous scale of values and the different effect on restoration arising from their nature: art or cultural value, aesthetic value, historical value, use value and sentimental value, research value, educational value, age value newness value, monetary value, associative value, commemorative value and rarity.77 Thus, in modern times, an additional number of value categories have appeared that highlight the sense of values. For instance, the shoes of the actress Marlene Dietrich and a plate that belonged to the pop artist Jeff Koons, both of which in the entirety of their meanings have most of the values listed above, being inseparable from each other, are side by side in the art collection on Long Island belonging to Robert Wilson, a contemporary director in experimental theatre.

Fig 13 : Bauhaus Masters’ Houses (UNESCO-World Heritage): perfectly renovated Kandinsky–Klee semi- detached house and the new Masterhouse Gropius (by BFM Architekten) – a new model emulating the destroyed one, Dessau 2015.

Appelbaum sums up by saying that the flexible relationship between the physical condition and value of an ‘object’ can be affected over time both positively and negatively. The conscious acknowledgement of its non-material aspects makes it possible to preserve the different values of the ‘object’ in the course of its treatment – conservation / restoration / reconstruction / re-purposing.78

Public attitudes towards ways of preserving and making sense of monuments in the 21st century have not changed significantly from Riegl’s era, so consideration of this theme is topical in every respect. The most widespread attitude is new value as affection for the old and beautiful, which also leads to diligent restoration, particularly if financial means are available. I find that the conscious classifica- tion of non-material values as precisely as possible is important in

77 B. Appelbaum, Conservation Treatment Methodology, pp. 89–114. 78 B. Appelbaum, Conservation Treatment Methodology, pp. 115–119.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 56 order to ensure a diverse relationship in the process of restoration and renovations. By virtue of this, flexibility is the key word and can be applied to both the use and the restoration of monuments. The perception of timelessness makes it possible to also see the potential of the monument in the event that the inconsistency and change inherent in the contemporary world dominate.

In today’s terms, heritage is a part of physical reality, as well as being an intellectual and spiritual phenomenon. Meanings are created and values presented to communities and more broadly to society by way of heritage. Other interest groups, such as local people as users, owners, museologists and artists, are also included more and more in conservation processes led by experts.79 Thus the trend is towards involving the people around the process, but the danger remains that such cases tend to be put down on paper merely as a gesture to democracy. I hope in the creative part of this study to highlight and analyse the actual corresponding activities. How to share individual memory experiences among a group and to function as a community differs in each individual case. I have tried to systematically find possible repetitions of this as patterns. I see this as a trend away from traditional conservation customs towards contemporary solutions, which are undertaken to highlight heritage through new spatial approaches, the impetus for which, needless to say, is economic interest. On the basis of the principle of contrast, the authentic old differentiates from the added new as a necessary quantity from the viewpoint of the operation of the contemporary function. Various tangible examples confirm theoretical discussions on how to combine traditions and an innovative approach appropriate to the object as a dignified and functional solution. According to the Danish architect Trine Neble, by using heritage and adapting it to current needs, development is effected based on traditions, good examples of which are the redesigned manors in Denmark, where the design is ultramodern and minimalist, yet is implemented using traditional materials. In this way, the new design is not an ancillary layer added to an old house, but rather an independent quality, the realisation of which does not allow what has been done to be thoughtlessly replaced, even the original details.80 Here it is important to expand the way the world is seen and inculcate corresponding directions of thought among both visionaries and decision-making bodies, which in Estonia are the National Heritage Board and State Real Estate Ltd.

79 K. Konsa, Tänapäevane konserveerimine: objektidest-väärtustest-subjektidest. Lecture at the Imavere Dairy Museum, 21 November 2014 (author’s notes). 80 T. Neble, Heritage, Contemporary Architecture and Design in Interaction. Lecture at the Latvian Academy of Arts, Riga, 12–13 March 2015 (author’s notes).

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 57 2.6 GENTRIFYING THE ENVIRONMENT

How is it possible to find an interaction of contemporary user and historical building in the functional re-purposing process? My argument is that in the revitalization of derelict buildings there is often a lack of human contact with possible users in the functional re-purposing process. Gentrification is an inevitable phenomenon in today’s urban development context. Within it are constructive developments of the urban environment: local municipal governments self-evidently subscribe to this kind of starting position in their cooperation with developers. Yet what are the social effects on the population of gentrification? Gentrifi- cation as a process is an intensifier of changes in the spatial and built environment. Housing costs (rents) rise as a result of an area’s development, and the original aura that generated a (creative) community lifestyle and inspired self-generated initiatives and developments disappears with the replacement of the area’s residents. The role of architecture and spatial values is often ignored in the course of contemporary pragmatic (interior) architectural project design and the functional re-purposing of space or, in other words, spatial intelligence has been forgotten in a site-specific sense. I argue that in the transformation of historical buildings, only the building’s physical substance is protected by the Heritage Conservation Act, and the non-material intangible values of buildings are not protected.

Fig 14: Williamsburg, the cradle of gentrification, New York 2017.

Gentrification is a process of urban renewal or re-urbanisation, in the course of which an abandoned district with presumed potential is invested in to launch its development through the combined effect of economic and cultural impulses. Gentrification occurs when there is a substantial replacement of a neighbourhood’s residents with

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 58 newcomers who have higher incomes and who, having acquired homes cheaply, renovate them and upgrade the neighbourhood. Revitalisation, vitalisation, aristocratisation and elitisation are synonyms for gentrification, which is also known as middle-classisation because the middle class has replaced the working class due to the displacement of industry. There are several theoretical approaches to researching gentrification: demographic-ecological, socio-cultural, politico-economic, environmental network-centred, and social movement-centred.81 Two primary approaches are in use: economic/production-centred and cultural/consumer- and lifestyle-centred.82 The effects on gentrification arising from age, gender, sexual preference, nationality and race have also been studied.

Needless to say, the investment of capital brings changes in both buildings and landscape, yet the social renewal of the area by groups of people with greater economic capital is accompanied by the displacement of the group of residents with lower income.83 Rent-gap theory dominates here, meaning that the run-down districts of the city centre have potential, which when developed brings higher capital value or, in other words, this expresses the difference between the existing and the potential cost of rent and land.84 Gentrification has become a global phenomenon that spread in the 1950s from the north-eastern USA to the cities of Western Europe and Australia. The sociologist Ruth Glass adopted the term ‘gentrification’ on the basis of the example of the Islington workers’ district in London,85 which has gone through great changes both in reality and in research, summed up as ‘waves’. Nowadays, the period of economic downturn in the early 1970s is known as the first wave or pioneer gentrification, when districts in the city centre with low levels of investment became the target of investments. The gentrifiers were creative people attracted by advantageous prices. The second wave, or corporate / professional gentrification, followed with the economic upturn at the end of the 1970s, where the gentrifiers were the ‘new middle class’. The third wave, or supergentrification, or financification, emerged in the 1990s, in the course of which finance capital investment took place repeatedly, the gentrifiers were the elite, and local governments started participating in the

81 J. Palen, B. London, Gentrification, Displacement and Neighborhood Revitalization. Albany: SUNY Press, 1984, p. 1. 82 N. Smith, Toward a Theory of Gentrification: A Back to the City Movement by Capital, not People. – Journal of the American Planning Association 1979, vol. 45(4), pp. 538–548. 83 M. Davidson, L. Lees, New-Build ‘Gentrification’ and London’s Riverside Renaissance. – Environment and Planning 2005, vol. 37, pp. 1165–1190. 84 N. Smith, Toward a Theory of Gentrification, pp. 538–548. 85 R. Glass, London: Aspects of Change.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 59 process.86 Fourth wave gentrification is spoken of in reference to the hurricane destruction in New Orleans and the HOPE IV housing programme in the USA, for instance.87

Gentrification can be called part of re-urbanisation in association with certain social groups and economic processes. According to the anthropologist Neil Smith, two main theories from the approaches to theoretical research are in use: the approach focusing on economic profit, and the approach focusing on culture/consumerism, which is tied in with specific social groups.88 In turn, diverse subcategories can be discerned in the gentrification process, such as studentifi- cation, where a large number of students change the appearance of an area and this, generally speaking, also brings an increase in socio-cultural capital; similar to this is rent gentrification, tourism gentrification, where a poorer residential district becomes a centre of tourism and entertainment, super-gentrification, which takes place in an already gentrified environment, and new-built gentrification, in the course of which the overall appearance of an area changes due to new construction.89 Rural gentrification, with its subcategory cottage-isation, is the result of the degeneration of agriculture, where people lead an alternative lifestyle and invest in rural dwellings.90 Throughout the world, gentrifiers categorised by race, age, gender and sexual orientation are also topics of research. From the Marxist viewpoint, gentrification is contemporary social violence moderated by its approach focusing on culture. I have followed changes in this process with interest on the basis of new publications from gentrification theoreticians,91 where changes in the demographic profile of the residents are observed in a process in which the alternative design projects of artists, designers and architects are involved in the regeneration of residential districts. Newly completed documentary films also confirm the continuing topicality of the theme of gentrification. They are presented to the public at film festivals, for instance the Amsterdam Architectural Film Festival Architektur. Film. Sommer 2015 – Shelter, Housing and the Formation of Cities, where

86 J. Hackworth, N. Smith, The Changing State of Gentrification. – Tijdschrift voor Economische en Sociale Geografie 2001, 92(4), pp. 464–477. 87 L. Lees, T. Slater, E. Wyly, Gentrification. Routledge: New York, 2008, pp. 185–187. 88 N. Smith, Toward a Theory of Gentrification, pp. 538–548. 89 L. Lees, T. Slater, E. Wyly, The Gentrification Reader, Routledge: London, 2010, p. 391. 90 M. Phillips, Other Geographies of Gentrification. – Progress in Human Geography 2004, vol. 28(1), pp. 5–30. 91 J. Brown-Saracino, A Neighborhood That Never Changes: Gentrification, Social Preservation, and the Search for Authenticity. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2009; Houses in Transformation: Interventions in European Gentrification. Eds. T. Kaminer, M. Schoonderbeek, J. J. Berg, J. Zonneveld. Rotterdam: Nai Publishers, 2008.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 60 films examined community problems in the gentrification process in the high-rent district of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which has been settled by yuppies.92

What are manifestations of gentrification like in Estonia? It is important to examine the reasons and to create associations with the mutual effects of economic/production-centred processes and gentrification’s cultural/consumer-centred aspects. The Estonian essay- ist Hasso Krull claimed that, in the temporal dimension, Estonian culture is founded on the motif of interruption, where the first positive interruption was breaking free from the Baltic German cultural association, and generally from the German variant altogether, by manifesting independence. The first negative interruption was the historical myth of the loss of ancient independence. All subsequent interruptions have to a greater or lesser extent been variations of these main interruptions. This fundamental motif once again very prominently came to the fore in the 1990s. Positive interruption was marked by the restoration of political independence, together with breaking free of what went before, while negative interruption was being subjugated under Russian rule in the course of the Second World War.93 The entire current cultural discourse is based on empha- sising these interruptions, whereas a certain period (longer than five years) is directly perceived as a time of interruption.

The emergence of private property, the reorganisation of the economy, the restructuring of the labour force, and the rapid stratification of the population accompanied the restoration of independence in Estonia. Housing construction policy and that of real estate developers in the post-industrial era, however, depend on economic factors, the investment climate in the region, and on Estonia’s small size, which ampli- fies several processes. Here it is important to understand the nature of transitional society over the last decade of the 20th century and its influence on the form of the opening of the borders of a closed society, including the proliferation of the desire to consume connected with the disappearance of deficits. At the same time, global examples and the tendency to dissolve into them must be taken into account. For instance, there is Americanisation in urban space in the form of auto-mobilisation and large shopping centres, which has led to the emptying of city centres of pedestrians and small shops. In the context of interiors, gentrification can be viewed as prevalence characteristic of a certain era where the residents’ economic

92 For example the films The Domino Effect (2015) by M. Sperry, D. Phelps, B. Paul and Tonita´s (2015) by B. Boyacioglu & S. Diaz. 93 H. Krull, Katkestuse kultuur. Tallinn: Vagabund, 1996, p. 7.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 61 opportunities, social background and cultural stratum are reflected. In the case of our Finnish neighbours, gentrification began in the 1980s. Gentrification as a process has been acknowledged in Estonia since the 1990s, but so far no theory has been worked out regarding the period after the restoration of independence. A few bachelor’s and master’s theses have been completed in this century on local manifestations of gentrification.94 Studies have appeared focused on the city districts of Kalamaja, Kadriorg and Supilinn.95 Socio-cultural changes conveyed through interviews and questionnaires are at the centre of attention. Economic reasons require studies based on statistics in places such as Viljandi’s city centre and Kantreküla, Pärnu’s city centre, Rääma and Ülejõe, Tartu’s Karlova district, and Tallinn’s Old Town, Uus-Maailm, Kopli, Kassisaba and Pelgulinn, in addition to the above-mentioned studies.96

In the 1990s, the gentrification process as an already globalised phenomenon spread in the real estate market from the city centre to the suburbs as well. Opposition to gentrification has abated and national or local government supports developers. Processes resembling gentrification have started to proceed region by region, as well as in individual buildings. Primarily two theoretical approaches with different orientations emerge in the research of gentrification: cultural and economic. The first is based on enthusiasm: cultural consumption of post-industrial urban space as a lifestyle. The other approach is based on the financial calculation that renovating an old building is more economical than building a new one, whereas the favourable location of a building that is to be vitalised, the surrounding historical environment and distinctive architecture turn out to be advantages in their own right.

Similarly to the rest of the world, post-industrial society affects urban space in Estonia as well: industry has died out and cities are shrinking. Due to the economic crisis, manufacturing has shut down or moved to Asia due to cheap labour, as is the case elsewhere in the world. The

94 A. Aksiim, Gentrifikatsiooni uurimine Eestis. Master’s thesis. Tartu: Tartu Ülikool, 2013; M. Feldmann, Gentrification and Social Stratification in Tallinn: Strategies for Local Governance. Vienna: Institite für die Wissenschaften vom Menchen, 2000; K. Männik, Gentrifikatsiooniprot- sess. Tartu Supilinna näitel, aastatel 2003–2007. Master’s thesis. Tallinn: Eesti Kunstiakadeemia, 2008; E. Vollmer, Maade aadeldumine Lahemaa Rahvuspargis. Master’s thesis. Tartu: Eesti Maaülikool, 2007; 95 M. Hiob, N. Nutt, S. Nurme, F de Luca, Risen from the Dead. Slumming to Gentrification. – Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences 2012, no. 36, pp. 92–105; N. Nutt, S. Nurme, S. Salmistu, M. Hiob, Gentrification in a Post-Socialist Town: The Case of the Supilinn District, Tartu, Estonia. – Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences 2013, pp. 109–123. 96 A. Aksiim, Gentrifikatsiooni uurimine Eestis.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 62 part that continues to function effectively has been moved out of old buildings to the edge of the city in modern-day hangars. As a result of this phenomenon, impressive old industrial architecture can be found in the centres of cities that nobody seems to need any more. What can be done with these vacant buildings? There are many different factors impacting how these decisions are made. In today’s post-industrial society, the enthusiastic redesign of historical industrial buildings into contemporary dwellings, and the transformation in general of all manner of buildings to serve new functions have developed as a result of gentrification. The question arises: how do an old building and a contemporary lifestyle fit together?

In Estonia there has been a tradition of organising cultural events in abandoned buildings since the restoration of independence. An eye-opener is the old Noblessner foundry, reused as a concert hall with some of the best acoustics in Tallinn, or the Tapa railway station re-purposed as a theatre performance pop-up site due to its great location. A popular engaging discussion popped up as 57. Välkloeng: Architecture and Rebirth in the Tallinn Polymer Culture factory.97 Sev- eral master’s theses in the Estonian Academy of Arts deal with con- ceptualising the possibilities of the potential, the temporary activation and continuous change issues of the living environment.98 There are professional practitioners dealing with re-purposed commercial building projects according to the needs of contemporary clients.99

Estonia’s distinction in this process can be observed in the context of recent history characterised by demographic changes and the absence of the regulatory role of the socialist era market. The birth of private property, the reorganisation of the economy, the restructuring of the labour force, and the rapid stratification of the population

97 Moderated by the young urbanists Grete Veskiväli and Maria Alnek [Ruumiringlus] on 13 April 2 0 1 7. 98 E. Komp, Urban Pauses. Five Spatial Etydes in Central Tallinn. Master’s thesis. Tallinn: Estonian Academy of Arts. Faculty of Architecture, Department of Architecture and Urban Design, 2014. The author maps and analyses possibilities and strategies to revitalize urban pauses, and their impact, with the aid of theories of temporary urbanism and urban planning. L.-L. Pihu, Demolish or not to Demolish? Master thesis. Tallinn: Estonian Academy of Arts. Faculty of Architecture, Department of Architecture and Urban Design, 2016.The Master thesis is focusing on vacant buildings and investigating the possibility of reusing building materials, analysing the potential of material reuse of vacant buildings in Estonia. J. Rannula, Station Buildings On The Baltic Railway. Master thesis. Tallinn: Estonian Academy of Arts. Faculty of Architecture, Department of Urban Studies, 2016. The thesis analyses the transformation of railway station buildings in Estonia as a process that involves spatial as well as social dimensions. 99 Great examples: Margit Aule, Margit Argus (Kaos Architects); Koit Ojaliiv, Joel Kopli, Juhan Rohtla (Kuu Architects), Andrus Kõresaar, Raivo Kotov (Koko Architects).

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CREATIVE METHODS 63 accompanied the restoration of independence in Estonia. Housing construction policy and that of real estate developers in the post- industrial era, however, depend on economic factors, the investment climate in the region, and Estonia’s small size.

Manifestations of gentrification emerged in Estonia as a result of ownership reform, where tenants of properties returned to their former owners were forced to vacate their living spaces in favour of the new owners (and their construction activity). In Estonia, gentrification has been researched primarily on the basis of culture-oriented and consumer- centred theory.100 The approach to this issue based on economic and manufacturing-centred theory is marginal by comparison. Recently a valuable doctoral research was published on the shifting paradigm of spatial planning: the role of neighbourhood participation and the conservation of built-up areas based on the case study of Supilinn, a historic suburb of Tartu, by Mart Hiob. The thesis analyses the secret planning process, from the Stalin era in the 1950s up to the 2000s, when it turned into active participation by the local community. The thesis highlights the differences between historic and built environments, while the transformation of a poor housing estate has turned it into one of the wealthiest living areas of the city, through the prismatic view of gentrification. The author has considered the built environment according to Lefebvre’s theory of perceived, conceived and lived space, where lived space represents the most valuable living environment. In the conclusion of this thesis, the author evaluates the protection and development of existing values.101

100 A. Aksiim, Gentrifikatsiooni uurimine Eestis; M. Feldmann, Gentrification and Social Stratifica- tion…; K. Männik, Gentrifikatsiooniprotsess; E. Vollmer, Maade aadeldumine Lahemaa Rahvuspargis. 101 M. Hiob, The Shifting Paradigm of Spatial Planning in Estonia: the Rise of Neighbourhood Participation and Conservation of Built-up Areas through the Detailed Case Study of Supilinn, a Historic Suburb of Tartu City, Estonia. Tallinn: TUT Press, 2016, https://digi.lib.ttu.ee/i/file. php?DLID=5979&t=1 (accessed 20 April 2017).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 64 65

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE

Like a living organism, architecture continuously transforms as the result of the efforts of architects and builders, reflecting the development of society and culture. A building outlives its original purpose and it is used for something else. Yet changes in the spatial environment are not limited to building construction processes alone. People are similarly affected by installation spatial art that breaks out of the white cube: into urban space, and into nature.

 Fig 15: Big Bambú installation in Testaccio, Rome 2014. 67 3.1 SPATIAL METAMORPHOSES, THE TRANSFORMATION OF BUILDINGS

The word transformation is synonymous with metamorphosis, of Greek origin – deformation, reshaping – and refers to a process that can be forced but can also be autonomous and independent. According to Paolo Portoghesi (an Italian theoretician on architecture and the curator of the first Venice Architecture Biennale in 1980), ‘transformation describes a transitive action performed by a subject, and metamorphosis seems to allude to a process that is autonomous or even endogenous. Architecture is continuously transformed by the efforts of those who design it and build it [---] in its constant changing, it seems similar to a living organism that undergoes continuous metamorphoses’.102

The original identity of a building changes over the course of reconstruction in the search for a new use for the space. This change can range from extreme replacements to delicate restoration; it can be temporary or permanent, superficial or profound, broadening or constricting. According to Portoghesi, the intervention of the architect determines the identity of the building. The transformation of a building or a part of a city by an architect may pertain to intended use and its form. It may be radical, like replacements, or limited, as in remodelling and restorations. It may be superficial or deep. It may be lasting or fleeting, temporary or permanent. It may improve or worsen, it may raise or lower, expand or contract, and so on. Without question, it alters, and sometimes cancels out or changes the building’s very identity.103

The sustainability of materials has become the focus of the re- purposing process. According to Brooker and Stone, sustainability in architecture and design refers to ‘the sensible use of natural resources and materials that does not deplete them in an unneces- sary or wasted way. It also refers to the sourcing and use of methods of construction and certain materials that do not contribute to climate change through the exhaustion of natural resources or their transport across the world.’104 In autumn 2012 the brutalist Barbi- can Centre (1982) in London was transformed by an exhibition on OMA, one of the most influential current architecture practices. The exhibition was curated and designed by the Belgium-based

102 P. Portoghesi, Transformation and Metamorphosis. – Materia 2011, vol. 71, p. 34. 103 P. Portoghesi, Transformation and Metamorphosis, pp. 34–43. 104 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p.174.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 68 architectural team Rotor, who also exhibited interior elements from the modernist past at the Venice Architecture Biennale (the Belgium pavilion, 2012). On a practical level, Rotor handles the conception and realisation of design and architectural projects. On a theoretical level, Rotor develops critical positions on material resources and waste through research.

Fig 16: High Line – an elevated freight rail line transformed into a public park on Manhattan’s West Side, New York 2017.

The architecture critic Peter Buchanan established ten rules for the sustainability of buildings in his study Ten Shades of Green: Architec- ture and the Natural World (2007), which incorporates a broad scale of sustainability practice, for instance building according to the long life/loose fit anti-ergonomic principle.105 Frampton points out that a large number of remarkably easily adaptable buildings with load- bearing walls survive from the 18th and 19th centuries, many of which have found new uses, yet nowadays it is more difficult to achieve this principle due to the standards of minimum space and inflex- ible contemporary construction technologies that are currently in effect.106 Spatial metamorphoses and the transformation of buildings give vitality to contemporary society, and cause people to move about, to rediscover what already exists, and to take an interest in new places. Knowing how to notice and use the potential concealed in buildings and places is an opportunity for both the (interior) architect and the artist.

105 P. Buchanan, Ten Shades of Green: Architecture and the Natural World. New York: Architectural League of NY, 2006. 106 K. Frampton, Moodne arhitektuur, p. 379.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 69 Developments in urban construction in the direction of contemporary energy efficiency standardsand the out-dating of existing buildings cause changes in the spatial environment. The contemporary lifestyle inevitably brings with it changes in the functions of buildings. I have experienced extremely interesting examples of the re-purposing of old buildings and spatial metamorphoses in the world in very different ways, all of which have found new functions in surprisingly inspirational forms. Ample positive examples can be found of the new uses of historical buildings as theatres, libraries, university buildings and other such uses, reflecting, first and foremost, sensitive reconstruction and the understanding that preserving the atmosphere of an old building can also be economically profitable. The desire for total changes, however, implies the design and construction of a new building. As is well known, cinemas and shops are commonly concentrated nowadays into clusters in new buildings, forming gigantic shopping centres and cineplexes. What should be done with buildings that have been left vacant? In New York City, for instance in Harlem, many abandoned cinemas and theatres have been transformed into churches, where local alternative Christian congregations have settled in.

Fig 17: Former cinema and theatre buildings transformed into churches in Harlem, NYC 2017.

Opposite trends, however, can be found in Europe and Australia, where historical church buildings become splendid apartment buildings, private houses, night clubs, office buildings, athletic facilities and kindergartens.

Re-readings (2004), by Brooker and Stone, provides a relevant overview in the international academic context that addresses this specific issue of transformation and hence a community of practice. In Re-readings, the research is covered in the chapters Analyses, Strategy and Tactics. In the authors’ words, Re-readings is based not upon the proposed or consequential function of a remodelling building, but

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 70 upon an understanding of the theoretical method of the interpretation and adaptation employed by the architect or designer [---] each chapter discusses a particular aspect of the process and the argument is reinforced by illustrated case studies.107 The chapters are subdivided to provide greater clarity of argument. For example Analyses deals with form and structure, history and functions, context and environment. Strategy deals with layers, such as intervention, insertion and installation. Tactics is based on the plane, object, light, surface, opening and movement. The publication introduces series of new remodelling projects from the described aspects but it does not approach the re-purposing process from the viewpoint of the user. This is an important and sensitive topic which has been the focus of architecture biennials and symposiums in this research field.

Edward Hollis in his The Secret Lives of Buildings (2010) tells thir- teen unknown stories of well known buildings from different times and places which have become landmarks in our time: from the Greek Pantheon to the Berlin Wall. According to Hollis, a building comes into being with the expectation that it will stand forever, but it is inhabited and changed, and its existence is a tale of continuous transformation.

In the following section, I describe experiences of metamorphoses that I have encountered in recent years that have created a background system for my practice and have also generated questions that I deal with in my case studies.108

The communication of history is an intense field of activity in Berlin’s museums, in cooperation with renowned architects. David Chipper- field, the architect of the re-building of the Berlin Neues Museum (2009) who formed a harmonious whole out of the old building and the new museum, was awarded the 2011 Mies van der Rohe contemporary architecture prize for the long-term reconstruction of that museum and for creating an excellent symbiosis between old and new there. David Libeskind has created a haunting spatial effect through the symbiosis between the old and the new complex of Ber- lin’s Jewish Museum (2001), where a dead end at the abstract Holo- caust Tower is etched in the mind as an overwhelmingly powerful yet oppressive spatial experience. Together with the installation Garden of Exile and Emigration, this has created a uniquely appalling result.

107 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Rereadings. p. 13. 108 At the Sint-Lucas Architecture School international workshop Abandoned Sacred Places and on the Research Training Session journey to Brussels and Gent, and at the Mazzano Romano residency in the vicinity of Rome.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 71 In Portugal, the Pousada hotel chain (1941) was founded on the initiative of the minister and poet António Ferro in order to use Portugal’s rustic architecture as genuinely as possible, where modern commu- nications have been added by way of additions to the old authentic corpus, and changes necessary for modernising the interior have been made. This phenomenon is unique as a government-funded systematic reconstruction of historical buildings, which by now number nearly fifty in Portugal, where the symbiosis of old and new has been used in an intensive yet dignified way. An enchanting example is the reconstruction of the Pousada Mosteiro Amares, Santa Maria do Buoro abbey building from the 12th century in southern Portugal (architect Eduardo Souto de Moura). Another such example is the Pousada Citadela de Cascais Historic Hotel (architects Goncalo Byrne, David Góis and David Sinclair, 2012). An elegant example of symbiosis between lovely conserved ruins, an opulent historical building and a minimalist new annex is the Pousada do Palácio de Estoi (architect Goncalo Byrne, 2003).

Fig 18: The reconstruction of the Pousada Mosteiro Amares by Eduardo Souto de Moura, Portugal 2014.

An inspiring example is on Lisbon’s crowded pedestrian shopping street Rua Augusta, where between the street musicians and child beggars, the MUDE museum of contemporary design (architects Ricardo Carvalho and Joana Vilhena, 2009), housed in the historical BNU bank building (1866), offers free entrance to visitors. At first glance, time stands still in the building as the result of unobtrusive conservation, or in other words, alternative aesthetics have been applied where rooms are used in their unadorned form just as they have been exposed as the result of their initial conservation. This bank building, with its impressive history, went through several reconstruction phases in the 1920s and later in 1951–1972. The Portuguese Institute of Architectural Heritage halted the current modernisation project launched in 2004 at the phase of interior demolition and the building stood vacant for five years. As a result of the contemporary restoration concept, everything in the interior that had been spared from demolition has been preserved, including the

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 72 bank’s magnificent service counter. This kind of treatment of restoration and space makes it possible to see the building’s brutally exposed constructive skeleton, presenting the current experienced observer with considerably more interesting historical and unique cultural strata.

Fig 19: Former BNU Bank building transformed into the Design Museum MUDE, Lisbon 2014.

A typical example of this trend in conservation is the rejuvenation of the famous Palais de Tokyo in Paris by the architects Anne Lacaton and Jean-Philippe Vassal, which has generated contradictory opinions over time. For instance, it can be compared to the Tate Mod- ern in London, where the architect’s role (Herzog & de Meuron) in renewing this cathedral of industry is more noticeable than usual through the combined effect of light ceilings and modern functional furnishings. Perhaps even more important is the intervention of the curators Nicolas Bourriaud and Jerome Sans, who initiated the spatial transformation Site de creation contemporaine in the west wing of the Palais de Tokyo.

A building’s typology also channels certain types of developments. An example of this is the EX Mattatoio, an enormous former slaughterhouse complex in the Testaccio quarter in Rome, where several of its buildings nowadays house the MACRO museum of modern art, along with the architecture department of Rome’s TRE University and its recently opened library, as well as a fine arts university, a pop music school, an alternative ecological centre and a bio-market.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 73 Fig 20: EX Mattatoio, a former slaughterhouse complex in the Testaccio quarter, Rome 2014.

An anti-(nuclear) war exhibition and art happening has just opened in the spatial environment of the slaughterhouse’s factory corpus – incorporating massive blood basins and metal bus- bars with hooks in both the interior and exterior perimeters of the building. The surrounding environment is a decisive factor in this kind of change in function, where a former industrial facility has become a centre for art, culture and education. Testaccio is a typical 20th century workers’ district beside the Aurelian Wall in south Rome, consisting of low houses with little courtyards and vegetable plots. This district was particularly popular in the 1970s and 1980s and is currently moving in the same direction: squares and children’s parks have been created between the dwellings in Testaccio, around which the local community bustles daily in the bakery, butcher’s shop and greengrocery. Creative, artistic people also play a key role in breathing new life into the area. The end walls of the buildings in this residential district are covered with enormous, professional graffiti, which is publicised via the location map in the museum and is a unique magnet for the district. The MACRO Contemporary Art Museum, located in the Testaccio complex, has spilled out of its rooms in the slaughterhouse pavilion with the XI edizione di Fotografia Festival Internazionale di Roma site-specific photography exhibition into a new modernist market building (architect Marco Rietti). The exhibition uses photographic and video portraits to bring to life stories of merchants who protested against the demolition of the old traditional Testac- cio market building.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 74 Fig 21: The new market has replaced the old one in the Testaccio quarter, Rome 2014.

The former slaughterhouse area was an inspirational and functioning scene in previous times as well. For instance, the artistic group Stalker Osservatorio Nomade dealt with communes of ethnic minorities in their socially critical projects, inviting refugees from Kurdistan to join their practical action in the abandoned slaughterhouse in 1999. In 2007, Stalker/ON continued its journey with small communes, walking 50 km along the banks of the Tiber River in order to gain an overview of the different living conditions, typologies of houses and construction techniques that are in use in the Rome area. Over the course of the art happening, firm contact was established with the multicultural inhabitants of the area. Later on, the right-wing government started registering immigrants with the obvious objective of later extraditing them from Italy. Stalker/ON operates with the idea of developing continuous dialogue to help serve as a connecting bridge under the conditions of the fear of gentrification, eviction and expulsion.109 The flag of Kurdistan continues to fly from the roof of one of the squatted buildings of Testac- cio’s former slaughterhouse.110 Nowadays the topic of immigration is the focus of attention. In Italy, the mafia help to organise the illegal smug- gling of refugees. This has replaced narcotics as the mafia’s primary source of income. How can the area’s atmosphere be preserved today? Needless to say, the idea of displaying such authentic brutal elements of the former slaughterhouse as blood basins, metal bus-bars and hooks is characteristically specific to the Factory’s project site. This sort of approach would be impossible in terms of spatial atmosphere in the corpuses of the former slaughterhouse being used by Rome’s TRE Uni- versity because a creative working atmosphere is needed as a learning

109 Stalker/ON, Dialogue in the Informal Roma Settlement. – Houses in Transformations: Interven- tions in European Gentrification. Eds. T. Kaminer, M. Schoonderbeek, J. Jan Berg, J. Zonneveld. Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2008, pp. 95–98. 110 My data dates from 7 April 2015.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 75 environment, where a clean slate, so to speak, prevails that has been successfully created only by removing the specific details and elements that recall the past. Nevertheless, as creative people enter the complex, the livestock pens with their iron structures serve as reminders of the massive production activity of living animals and their processing into meat products. The enormous playful installation Big Bambú (authors Mike + Doug Starn) right at the entrance to the complex functions as an effectively innovative dominant welcoming feature, alleviating the melancholy and businesslike atmosphere. The fact that the spatial environment is constantly changing was confirmed a week later, when the process of demolishing the gigantic installation began. Hopefully a new installation will fill the void left by the removal of the previous one, which would supplement the businesslike atmosphere of the former slaughterhouse with a creative approach.

Fig 22: Big Bambú installation in Testaccio, Rome 2014.

An excellent analogous example of recycling is the Matadero slaughterhouse complex in Madrid, where a cineplex with a fascinating interior packaged in wickerwork (ch+qs Arquitectos), theatres, community centres, exhibition and work spaces, eateries and clubs are all housed together. The other complex of Rome’s MARCO Contemporary Art Museum has been created in a former brewery (annex and restoration design project by Odile Decq, 2004), which looks grate as an impressive play on form. The question arises: what explains the nearly deserted museum on a Saturday afternoon? The reason may lie in its architectural language – the building appears to be a little too spacious – since the exhibition halls are partially unused, apparently for financial reasons. The building’s location also plays an important role as the museum is surrounded by a traditional Roman middle-class residential district that lacks the completeness of a functioning centre of attraction for the museum complex described above.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 76 Fig 23: E.U.R. Quarter, Rome 2014.

An example of the effective functioning of the contemporary world in a historical context is Rome’s impressive E.U.R. (Esposizione Universale Roma) quarter, which was originally designed during the rule of Benito Mussolini for EXPO 1942 in Rome, yet functions nowadays as an independent business quarter, together with several museums, and is charming as a masterful architectural historical reference to the past. Mus- solini’s ideology aspired to continue the spectacular plays on form of antique Rome. Nowadays, the Palazzo della Civilta del Lavoro111 (architects Giovanni Guerrini, Ernesto Bruno La Padula and Mario Romano, 1938–43) – an icon of fascist architecture – is being restored as the head office of the renowned Fendi fashion house, which is influenced by the effect of the Colosseum. The pragmatic re-adaptation of a pearl of architecture from the Mussolini era into a contemporary fashion house is a vivid example of the fact that Italians do not allow themselves to be disturbed by the evidence of fascist policy from their past.

Fig 24: MARCO Contemporary Art Museumby Odile Decq, Rome 2014.

111 Also known as the Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana or the Colosseo Quadrato.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 77 Fig 25: Testaccio Centrale Montemartini thermal power station, the present-day Capitoline Hill Museum, Rome 2015.

Another distinctive example is the Testaccio Centrale Montemartini thermal power station (1912), which Romans use as one part of the present-day Capitoline Hill Museum to display their abundant heritage of antique sculpture. The potent aesthetics of machinery is associated with the exquisite refined materiality of marble from ancient times. Why not use similar opportunities here in Estonia in an analogous fashion for presenting large-scale installations and sculptures that currently gather dust in museum depositories: for instance in the interior of the abandoned Kärdla electric power station (1954–1979), the turbines of which are practically perfectly preserved? Actually, pop-up exhibitions of jewellery and glass art have indeed been held there, where the aesthetics of the machinery of that time is brought to the fore in the context of the exhibition.

These examples serve to affirm the claim made by Portoghesi described above that old buildings that have found new uses function in their altered uses significantly better than do contemporary buildings that serve only their intended functions. The story of the building and the frugal mentality of recycling have a contributory effect. It is nice to observe the reorientation of the Estonian Acad- emy of Arts toward a similar positive sensibility, from the glass high- rise winning entry of the international architectural competition for its new main building (2008) to the Rauaniidi factory building designed in its day (1928) by Eugen Habermann.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 78 Fig 26: Kärdla electric power station, light installation Red Chimney, Kärdla 2016.

The architect Andres Ojari, as a member of the jury of the competition for the restoration and annex of the Estonian Academy of Arts (2014), characterises the winning entry by Kuu Architects as integrating the perimeter of the otherwise detached industrial city block into the surrounding urban space using little intervention, which is precisely interpreted.112 This sort of honest and fiscally responsible approach evidently proved to be decisive in being selected as the winning entry, very precisely reflecting present-day priorities and opportunities for finding a new synergy in a reconstructed factory building, at a time when Estonian Academy of Arts students are spread throughout the city in very different conditions. The TASE exhibitions of Estonian Academy of Arts diploma works, however, are already being held in that poetic interior, since reconstruction work has not yet begun. The nominees for the Esto- nian architectural prize for 2014–2015 were also displayed there, which proved a successful spatial experience.

I also encountered an analogous graduation exhibition in an abandoned former industrial building in Melbourne at the RMIT architecture school INDEX 2013 exhibition of the bachelor works of interior designers. Thus, abandoned space as an environment has an interesting and inspiring effect in a general state of order, facilitating self-generated spatial solutions.

112 A. Ojari, Uus vaatus: EKA uue õppehoone arhitektuurivõistlus. – Maja 2014 (84), no. 4, p. 64.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 79 Fig 27: TASE 2015 exhibition of Estonian Academy of Arts diploma works, Tallinn 2015.

Throughout history, the question has been posed regarding how to approach conservation, restoration and reconstruction, and regarding how to consider the restoration of ruined buildings: are there any certain rules here, any repetitive patterns? In the 21st century, making copies is not respected (yet they continue to be made). The approach where the new and the old should differ clearly from one another is gaining ground. The opposition of the new and the old on the principle of contrast in sensitive, innovative terms is, in turn, encoded, and this distinguishes the contemporary University of Tartu Narva College building (architects Siiri Vallner and Indrek Peil, interior architect Hannes Praks, 2012). Its façade marks, through its negative form, the historical stock exchange building destroyed in the war, simultaneously bearing within itself the idea of both the absence and the restoration of a historical building.

Fig 28: The contemporary building of Tartu University Narva College, Narva 2016.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 80 Fig 29: INDEX exhibition of RMIT Architecture School diploma works, Melbourne 2013.

A splendid hall in the historical Knighthood Building on Toompea Hill in Tallinn was adapted in the 1990s for the Estonian Museum of Art. Its interior was renovated using resourceful laconic means as part of the ‘box-in-a-box’ method, where the walls of the richly ornamented hall with chandeliers were covered with simple particle board, hiding the necessary electrical wiring and other communica- tions (this building was at the disposal of the Estonian Academy of Arts for many years). The same kind of approach could be seen during a Palm Sunday walk in the spatial labyrinth partially under construction in Rome’s Vatican Museum. This is obviously a temporary approach, yet nowadays phenomena of a temporary nature also have easy and natural effects (and last for a long time). The key element of this kind of approach is its temporariness. It would be easy to claim that this approach always works. The (interior) architect has to persistently continue sensitive journeys of discovery in order to manage to provide a site-specific solution that is clearly recognisably new but nevertheless bears the value characteristic of that place as expressed in its material, form and approach. This may, for instance, even be a tiny yet inevitable detail: the modern steel boundary of the Siena city wall that conforms to contemporary standards harmonises with its environment as if through the clamp principle, ruling out the first customary idea of modern material such as glass and stainless steel, which would in this case have a standardising effect.

The Lodz Manufaktura in the heart of Poland is a surprisingly sen- sational example of the contemporary use of industrial buildings. Here a comprehensive shopping and cultural centre has been built in the vast former textile factory complex that employed Polish- Jewish workers, together with a cineplex operating using the newest technology, eateries, a modern dance studio, an art bookshop and other establishments. An interesting example of reconstruction in

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 81 both the architectural and the interior architectural sense is Andel’s Hotel, with its rooftop pool projecting as a glass console. At the same time, this place rules out self-generated initiatives through the finality of its completeness.

Fresh examples in both Estonia and Finland exist in the metamorphoses of large former cattle barns into contemporary conference centres. The layout of the cattle barn building is suitable for teaching rooms primarily due to its spaciousness. The formerly widespread cattle raising on large farms is dying out and the recycling of such buildings in the countryside for teaching and learning activities is a profitable use that is in demand. In Tuusula, a summer vaca- tion destination for cultural figures located near Helsinki, the cattle barn furnishings have been partially preserved in the new function as a cafeteria, with the drinking troughs poured into the floor for the animals still visible. The furnishings of the room are a symbiosis of new and old.

The conference room is situated on the windowless upper storey. The terrazzo staircase between the storeys and the forced air ventilation show the high quality of construction characteristic of Finland, which reflects the luxury of a previous time. In the Kallio- Kuninkala seminar room, only the projection on the wall of the work of art by the Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan – a horse installation – that fits in with the presentation Animal Studies and Ethics refers to the building’s original function.113

A similar treatment of space has recently taken place in central Estonia, in Vana-Võidu, where the Soviet era schoolhouse annex of a splendid manor house has recently been demolished, as it was an appendage proven to be superfluous, and the main building has once again been restored as a manor for cultural events. The schoolhouse has moved into the renovated old cattle barn, the tall granite foundation of which gives it a dignified appearance.

---

113 Estonian Academy of Arts and Aalto University summer school Posthumanism and New Materialism, in Kallio-Kuninkala, Finland, 15–19 June 2015.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 82 Factories changed hands in Estonia after it regained its independence, and the owners became mostly foreign investors. An impressive example of eclecticist English industrial architecture is the Narva Kreenholm factory ensemble, which includes the houses of the master craftsmen, all of which have been left vacant. In this border town of Europe, a new use has been sought for this complex in the form of an exclusive residential district, a concert hall and commercial galleries. This kind of grandiose project could be launched if economic interest in Narva could be found in St. Petersburg, but the process has now come to a standstill for political reasons. The situation of other textile factories is analogous: for instance, a vision was sought for the impressive dilapidated ruins of the Sindi factory at a Sindi workshop held jointly by the Estonian Academy of Arts and the Tallinn University of Technology (2014–2015). Kärdla’s similar former Kalevivabrik broadcloth factory, however, was completely destroyed in the war. Many other former industrial buildings share the same fate.

The Rotermann Quarter in Tallinn is an excellent example of re- urbanisation in terms of both economic production and architecture, where new additional architecture has been erected in the form of apartment buildings, office buildings, restaurants and commercial space in a defunct industrial area as the result of skilful comprehensive development. There are also interesting reconstructions of old buildings, such as the Laudsepa workshop, which was nominated for the Mies van der Rohe Prize in 2009 (architects Andrus Kõresaar and Raivo Kotov). Nevertheless, the vitalisation that the renovated built environment was hoped would bring has been slow to material- ise. One objective reason was the economic downturn, and another is the absence of a smooth passage for pedestrians between the city and the passenger harbour. The fact that construction is taking place in stages makes this district more interesting. The interior architectural reconstruction project of the Rotermann grain eleva- tor has been one of the most interesting themes on my work desk: how to design living space through three storeys, where daylight can be brought into the rooms by way of shafts of light in the form of roof windows. The Rotermann Quarter is admittedly primarily the domain of developers and planners, where creative events and exhibitions developed through self-initiative have occurred only to a small extent.

On the basis of the examples described above, it can be pointed out that every case of the transformation of buildings and spatial metamorphoses is different and that modernisations are unique.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 83 Generalisations are possible but the transfer of functional ideas from one place to another is of a more fundamental nature. At the same time, uniform rules do not apply in the re-purposing of spatial function. Conclusions can be reached by seeking internal natural laws (see the conclusions section in Summary and Conclusions ) . The context – the surrounding building environment closely related to the local community – plays an important role in activating a transformed building. It is important to get valuable knowledge about the target group, i.e. the neighbourhood. Or, focusing on new visitors or foreigners, it is important to keep in mind the communication of the past narration in order to produce an interaction between the old and new functions and the surrounding neighbourhood. It’s clear that a building’s typology also channels certain types of developments in the re-purposing process, as most prob- ably there is no point or opportunity to make enormous changes in interior space. Nowadays the need for an extension which could solve the problem of small spaces or the possible integration of modern technology often comes up. So re-using spaces is obviously closely connected with city planning, as well as determining the priorities of development locations. Providing and designing architectural solutions, however, is an activity that anticipates real situations and relies on imaginative vision. An interesting point is changing the existing atmosphere. Actual experimentation is needed to find the optimal re-purposing solutions in existing buildings (see the case studies in Chapters 4 to 6). In devoting enough attention to the renewal process, spatial artists and designers are new participants in the re-purposing process.

According to Brooker and Stone, ‘intervention’ is a procedure that activates the potential or repressed meaning of a specific place. It truly works when the architectural responses to modifications draw all of their cues from the existing building. ‘Insertion’ is the placement of a complete object within the confines of an existing building. It is a practice that establishes an intense relationship between the original building and the inserted element, and yet allows the character of each to exist in a strong and independent manner.114

114 G. Brooker, S. Stone, Basics Interior Architecture, p. 172.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 84 Fig 30: Transformation of the Michigan Theatre in Detroit into a parking garage, Detroit 2017. Fig 31: Luther Block parking garage (by Arsprojekt), the former plywood and furniture Luther Factory, Tallinn 2017.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 85 3.2 SPATIAL INTERVENTIONS

The use of public space is a constant source of potential spatial conflict. In Henri Lefebvre’s socially critical treatment, both the public and the private sectors are interested in marketing urban space, while the desire of the local population, as its everyday users, is to use it freely as common property.115 Alongside architecture as a lasting phenomenon, creative approaches of a temporary nature connected to the re-purposing of space exist as contacts between spatial interventions and design activism. Contemporary installations as socially critical artistic interventions have an appealing spatial effect, perhaps precisely due to their temporariness.

In his Everyday Practices, de Certeau briefly characterises space as a place that is practised: pedestrians transform a street into space that urban planning defines geometrically. Similarly, when reading, a space is created out of a system of signs – of writing – in the use of the place that is being formed.116 In its predetermined nature, de Certeau’s place resembles the concept of space just as it is understood in human geography and location philosophy: for him, a place is static, while space is living, dynamic. As discussed previously, de Certeau defines his treatment of space using strategy and tactics117 as a pair of concepts that rely primarily on creative public activity in urban space. De Certeau contrasts the spatial strategies of institu- tional planners and architects with open social activity, or in other words the tactical devices of users, where personal motives are important. He stresses in his writings the opportunities for everyday resistance and local initiative. Searches for compromise in this field are the central aspect of making contemporary cities more people- friendly, to which the Danish architect and urbanist Jan Gehl has devoted himself. Gehl focuses on the senses and human dimensions that have been lost in contemporary urban environments, without which it is impossible to imagine the development of something living: social and secure, conservationist and healthy.118 The artist Margus Tamm points out in his analysis of happenings in urban space that critical interventions mark the line of impact between the administrators and users of space, acquiring possibilities on a

115 H. Lefebvre, The Production of Space, p. 359. 116 M. de Certeau, Igapäevased praktikad, p. 179. 117 M. de Certeau, Igapäevased praktikad, pp. 89–90. Here he refers to the theoretician on military affairs Adam Heinrich Dietrich von Bülow, according to whom strategy is the science of military movement beyond the enemy’s field of view, while tactics is the science of movement in the enemy’s field of view. 118 J. Gehl, Cities for People. Washington DC: Island Press, 2010.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 86 Lefebvre-like utopian scale for evoking changes in the system of government as well.119 In short, he proposes the thesis of the combined effect of public art and the site of intervention. The requirement is the existence of the necessary spatial conflict. The requirement for social discussion is that intervention remains ambivalent. ‘The prerequisite of a public discussion is that the artistic intervention stays at the center of the collision line, while remaining ambivalent, not expressing concrete viewpoints or trespassing the boundaries stated by law.’120 The expressiveness of intervention depends on how sharp the spatial conflict is and on the opportunities for interpreting intervention. A burst of creation of meaning accompanies intervention that creates discussion, adding new meanings.

The following is an overview that provides a point of departure and an anchor point for spatial investigations, in order to attempt to understand aspects of spaces that have been abandoned by way of the recollections of people, and to expand potential in the interest of future use. In this practice, I refer to site-specific and social art, including examples of design activism that involve spatial art installations.

3.2.1 SITE-SPECIFIC ART

Site-specific art as a practice emerged at the end of the 1960s in the wake of minimalism. In site-specific art, the sphere of interest is nar- rowed down to a single site, and the place with which the object of art relates comes to the fore. Site-specific art – as a reaction against the universality and marketing of contemporary art – strives to be conceptual, to relate to the site and to the community, to appreciate process, and to be open.121

According to Miwon Kwon, site-specific art was physically connected to the ground and to gravity:

‘... site-specific works used to be obstinate about “presence”, even if they were materially ephemeral, and adamant about immobility, even in the face of disappearance or destruction. Whether inside the white cube or out in the Nevada desert, whether architectural or landscape-oriented, site-specific art initially took the ‘site’ as

119 M. Tamm, Koht ja sekkuv kunst. – Kunstiteaduslikke Uurimusi 2014, vol. 23 (1–2), p. 91. 120 M. Tamm, Koht ja sekkuv kunst, p. 118. 121 M. Kwon, One Place after Another: Notes on Site-Specificity. – October 1997, vol. 80 (Spring), pp. 85–110.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 87 an actual location, a tangible reality, its identity composed of a unique combination of constitutive physical elements: length, depth, height, texture, and shape of walls and rooms; scale and proportion of plazas, buildings, or parks; existing conditions of lighting, ventilation, traffic patterns; distinctive topographical features.’122

Significance comes about as a result of the combined effect of artistic practice and the site. Fields of meaning have an effect only if a user exists as someone who actively relates to a work. The site, however, should be viewed as a multi-layered association. It is customary to hold art exhibitions at such institutions as galleries and museums, where it is possible to display a work of art in neutral white cube conditions so artists can create their ‘own space’ for artworks. But this is a very highly controlled context closed off from the outside, which can totally influence the perception of the artwork untouched by time. Thomas McEvilley introduces Brian O’Doherty’s well-known Inside the White Cube: ‘O’Doherty’s essays are defences of the real life of the world against the sterilized operating room of the white cube – defences of time and change against the myth of the eternal- ity and the transcendence of pure form.’123 A parallel can be drawn here with theatre buildings, where for each stage production, its ‘own space’ is created in a black box, using scenography. Generally speaking, the relation to a specific place forms the basis for the creation of sculptures and installations. Over time, valuable historical sculptures (and paintings as well) have been sheltered in museums, replacing the originals with copies on site. This, however, will not necessarily always ‘work’ in another environment. The quote from the disappointed minimalist sculptor Richard Serra after the relocation of his work Titled Arc (1981) has become well-known: ‘To move the work is to destroy the work.’124 The Estonian artist Anu Vahtra is experimenting with her site-specific projects by moving them from one space to another.

Site-specific exhibition art and happenings have also been displayed in galleries and museums, using a characteristic room as a white cube as their point of departure and provoking inspirational changes in space. For instance, the Bulgarian artist Nedko Solokov interpreted gallery space as an alternating process of black box and

122 M. Kwon, One Place after Another, p. 85. 123 T. McEvilley, Introduction. – B. O’Doherty, Inside the White Cube: The Ideology of the Gallery Space [1976]. San Francisco: The Lapis Press, 1986, p.12. 124 R. Serra, Letter to Donald Thalacker (1985). – The Destruction of Tilted Arc: Documents, Eds. C. Weyergraf-Serra, M. Buskirk, Cambridge: MIT Press, 1991, p. 38.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 88 white cub at the Ghent Art Museum S.M.A.K. The French conceptu- alist Daniel Buren’s solo exhibition of striped rooms was also held in the same place (2010). In 2016–2017 he made a series of striped door installations in the streets of Havana, which were sensitively related to the immediate surroundings.

Fig 32: Nedko Solokov activating the space very physically in the Ghent Art Museum S.M.A.K., Ghent 2010. Fig 33: Anish Kapoor at the Venice Art Biennale (2011), Venice 2011.

Fig 34: Daniel Buren activating the interior space in the Ghent Art Museum S.M.A.K., Ghent 2010.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 89 Fig 35: Daniel Buren activating urban space, Havana 2017.

The Bombay-born British artist Anish Kapoor visualised the ascent of the soul to heaven very physically inside an old basilica and activated the urban space outside with the enormous figure at the Venice Art Biennale (2011).

At the Beaufort Quadrennial on the Oostende coastal strip in Bel- gium, Arne Quinze’s bright red glowing landscape objects were displayed for a short time, and then disappeared (2011).

Fig 36: Activated space at the seashore by Arne Quinze, Oostende 2011.

The opening exhibition of the light installations of the Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson activated the interior space at the Frank Gehry Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris (2015) and provided visitors with the opportunity to participate physically with their own bodies in the installation, where each human figure was enlarged and doubled directly as it moved, activating the room in a constantly renewed way.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 90 Fig 37: Interactive light installation by Olafur Eliasson at the Frank Gehry Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, 2015. Fig 38: Marco Casagrande’s Sandworm lies on the border between architecture and visual art, Oostende 2014.

An impressive visual object was created as the central scenography at the Kanal Festival in Brussels, when the interior architect Gijs Van Vaerenbergh put together a poetic and practical symbiosis in the form of a temporary pedestrian bridge built out of the parts of a crane. This urban construction installation was temporary but referred to the important human need and social aspect to connect the residential districts along the banks of the canal.125 The installation was also presented at the Venice Architecture Biennale (2016), where a floating pontoon bridge over the Grand Canal was similarly created as a functional object of art for the period of the Biennale several years before (2010). The installation The Floating Piers by Christo and Jeanne-Claude was created in Italy on Lake Iseo (2016). The three- kilometre long bridge – ‘walking on the water’ – was the follow-up to their large-scale installations in which new forms were created using textiles, utilising their strength and fragility, where the material had both concealing and revealing functions. The visual change in colour had a surprising effect.

To sum up, the above examples are site-specific in different ways, and they could exist and activate space both in the exterior and interior. Artists have used unexpected creative devicesto activate space. These could be conceptual, yet primarily masterfully visual, approaches to relating to space, where architectural form, movement and transformation play important roles. It is obvious that in the contemporary world the context of artwork is more important for people

125 E. Vervloesem, M. Dehaene, M. Goethals, H. Yegenoglu, Social Poetics. The Architecture of Use and Appropriation. – OASE 2016, no. 96, p. 4.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 91 than ever before. According to O’Doherty: ‘to investigate things in relation to their context, to come to see the context as formative on the thing, and, finally to see the context as a thing itself.’126

3.2.2 SOCIAL WORKS OF ART

The London curator Hans Ulrich Obrist asks how architecture should be made so that it is intrinsically participative. And he admits that bureaucracy makes participation formal and stupid: ‘We are much more into the proposition that practitioners of different backgrounds participate in alien fields of knowledge production.’127 Based on the discussion about re-purposing existing buildings, the curatorial approach of the Chilean architect Alejandro Aravena for the 15th Venice Architectural Biennale (2016) focused on the role of people and local communities in the process of improving the contemporary living environment. His key word was ‘involvement’ or ‘participation’ in the creation of the spatial environment, which should be capable of filling the gap between architecture and society. According to him, the Biennale would deal with architectural examples of how to intelligently and intuitively escape one’s status quo, and present cases that create new perspectives through difficulties, regardless of setbacks.128 In a remarkable decision, the Assemble group of young architects won the prestig- ious Turner Prize for art in 2015, defying the art market and the typical pattern characteristic of the development of careers in art. Together with the local community, Assemble created a life-size wooden model in southern Liverpool and furnished it completely, from bathroom ceramics to all of the fittings: all for sale! The idea of the exhibition was to fashion furnishing elements in community workshops, reflecting the artist Theaster Gates’s attempts to vitalise a location in the urban space of south Chicago with the help of the community.129

The field of social art uses visual means motivated by phenomena that are critical of society. ‘Involvement’ has become one of the key- words of contemporary art, where the artist’s role and field of activity are also transferred to the public or, in other words, participation has become important. According to Kwon, in the case of contemporary art, the focus has shifted from the artist to the public.130 For years

126 B. O’Doherty, Inside the White Cube, p.12. 127 H. U. Obrist, R. Koolhaas, London Dialogues: Serpentine Gallery 24-hour Interview Marathon. Milan: Skira, 2012, pp. 210–211. 128 Alejandro Aravena Appointed Director of the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. 129 Turner Prize: Assemble Win for Liverpool Housing Scheme. – BBC News, 7 December 2015, http://www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-35031707/ (accessed 8 November 2016). 130 M. Kwon, One Place after Another, p. 106.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 92 socially critical site-specific projects with similar approaches, regardless of their different fields of activity, have come to the fore and been awarded prizes at the more important exhibitions of contemporary art and architecture: the documenta at Kassel and the Venice Archi- tecture Biennale. For instance, Theaster Gates in Kassel (2012) and Urban Think Tank in Venice (2012) approached architecture at their exhibitions with the help of participating users or inhabitants. The fact that both exhibition sites were activated as meeting places and intercommunication sites is also important. Urban Think Tank was awarded the Golden Lion at the Common Ground Venice Architecture Biennale for creating a restaurant as a living site for interaction. The topic of the exhibition project was an unfinished office building in Caracas – the 45-storey Torre David skyscraper – the construction of which was brought to a standstill by the economic crisis in Ven- ezuela in the 1990s. Later the tallest vertical slum evolved in this half- completed building as a functioning commune of about 800 families with spontaneously generated shops and improvised eateries. Torre David symbolises the failure of the self-establishment of neo-liberal power.131 Gates re-vitalised the abandoned Huguenot House (1826) – a former bourgeois dwelling and hotel – by paying unemployed people and using building materials from abandoned houses in both Chicago and Kassel. ‘The aim is to push the boundaries of labour and production to create space for others [---] the reconstruction has resulted in a lived-in laboratory for objects, performances, talks, dinners and installations [---] that aims to transform the run-down neighbourhood into a cultural epicentre, an informal lab for social community experiment [---] to set up a new model of progressive investment that works against the usual stream of gentrification, instead making a significant impact on a local level through collaboration and the sharing of skills, resources and ideas.’132

3.2.3 DESIGN ACTIVISM

The posing of questions, including critical ones, is one way to understand uncomfortable situations. Seeking and posing the ‘right’ questions is the task of an exhibition project. Answers (at least complete ones) cannot be given within the framework of one exhibition project. The presentation of a set of problems, the

131 ‘Here the Torre David stands as symbol of neoliberal failure and of the poor self-empowerment’ (Common Ground: la Biennale di Venezia: 13. Mostra internatzionale di architettura. Venezia: Marsilio, 2012. p. 154.) 132 dOCUMENTA (13): Das Begleitbuch / The Guidebook, Katalog / Catalog 3/3, Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2012, p. 430.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 93 selection and presentation of some phenomenon from ordinary circumstances – communication with the public – can be the aim of an exhibition.

Design activism is related to social art in connecting art and design as creative processes, although design activism is not necessarily an exhibition mode. According to Sue Anne Ware, ‘the design work proposes physical catalysts for social change.’133 Every artist/designer has his/her own functioning means of communication.134 Here design is the equivalent of creative activity that can be used from the viewpoint of the creation of form and systems, while activism is like active intervention or coordinated action. Thus, this is a process of design thinking, creating events. The well- known contemporary Chinese art activist Ai Weiwei is one of the most influential artists in the international world of art, and fights against China’s political regime. This artist’s entire life is affected by the collision between his creative work and the regime. This is characterised by a constant balancing on the edge of freedom, imprisonment and dangerous risk. Ai Weiwei uses artistic tools on an international level to express his critical attitude to the regime and to share the trapped situation he is caught in.

Another characteristic example of design activism is the above- mentioned artistic group Stalker–Osservatorio Nomade, which boasts professors from Rome’s Tre School of Architecture and independent theoreticians as its members: activists and artists who experiment with creatively involving people in the spatial environment in their urban projects. The method of the ON activists in relating architecture to living is collective walking ‘to actuate territories’, where the focus is on boundaries and points of contact, questions related to the problems of living among the local community and immigrants – Roma gypsies and others – in other words, experience on the path of nomadism.135

133 S. A. Ware, Design Activism and the Contested Terrains of Memorials. Open lecture, Estonian Academy of Arts, Tallinn, 15 September 2015 (author’s notes). 134 Here I consider artist and designer as concepts with a similar meaning because both of them use creative (visual) means of expression to communicate with the public – and being an artist or designer is more a question of what one feels himself to be. 135 Stalker/ON, Walking in Circles. Open lecture. Estonian Academy of Arts, Tallinn, 29 October 2015 (author’s notes).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 94 Fig 39: Art Installation by Alfredo Jaar, Kiasma, Helsinki 2014.

The art projects of the New York artist and architect of Chilean origin Alfredo Jaar are extremely critical interventions at the social and/ or political levels. This artist reacts directly to sore points that have emerged in the world, such as the Rwanda genocide, for which Bill Clinton apologised for his inactivity. Or he has related to the reclu- sion of Finnish society with his project 1 000 000 Blue Passports, which has also been presented on two occasions at the Kiasma Museum. His work completed on the occasion of the opening of a new art museum in a small Central American town is a vivid example of involving the local community. After having become familiar with the conditions in the little town, Jaar realised that the new art museum was not what the local people were actually expecting. The people had altogether different hopes for the site – beside the prison – that had been selected for the museum, namely that it would be turned into a football pitch. Jaar handed disposable cameras out to the inhabitants, asking them to photograph the surrounding daily life and then to bring the cameras back. The official institution did not believe that anything would come of the idea. Nevertheless, half of the cameras were returned with a great deal of interesting photographs, of which the artist enlarged a selection and framed the pictures for the exhibition. Needless to say, a large number of local people came to the opening to see their own photographs. The community had been activated and communication with the institution was generated. I used a similar method in curating the Ruumilised sekkumised / Spatial Interventions exhibition in conjunction with the SISU symposium Ruumimõju / The Impact of Space (2015), where

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 95 with reference to Jaar, 30 disposable cameras were handed out at the opening of the symposium to participants and speakers, asking them to roam about the city space and to record the spatial interventions of the city’s inhabitants, in order to find out which creative means people had used to try to affect their surroundings. Thirty-six hours were given for taking pictures. Seventeen cameras were returned with fascinating pictures taken from various angles. A selection of photographic material on the city’s space was projected on the white silicate wall at the Kultuurikatel garden party for SISU participants. The photographs formed a distinctive whole, where the spatial intervention of the residents was clearly discernible and the presence of the recorder as a curious observer was perceptible. Both greater and lesser interventions were recorded. For instance, there were more large-scale changes in the spatial environment in the Noblessner quarter in the transformation of the Culture Kilometre, a pedestrian walkway, into a motorway. Yet there were also small human motifs that marked the everyday activities of the inhabitants, affecting a given place subconsciously (a plastic bag with adver- tising on it hanging from a clothesline) or intentionally (a potted pelargonium in a trash bin). Graffiti, which there is a great deal of in the city space, appeared in many of the pictures. It has an influential role in the city space as an ‘alternative intervention’.

The original approach of one photographer was to take pictures through the graffiti-covered window of a moving bus. Within this frame, a new shot was created of the constantly changing view of the city due to the movement of the bus. Another enchanting photograph depicts a person relating to architectural form and materiality through body language. In addition to urbanistic information, the pictures also reflect the current season and weather, the light and shadow characteristic of that moment in time. Photographs of some spatial interventions show interventions which are motivated by the wish to direct people somewhere (the Estonian Academy of Arts and a car-wash) to stop them (a burger joint with a Coca Cola sunshade), to observe (a security camera), to fix something (a ventilation port), to tidy up (raking), or to secure and protect (police tape). Archi- tectural interventions using imposing means were also recorded, reflecting purposeful planning and the construction of urban space and architectural thought (Nordea Bank), attractive entrances, chim- neys stretching up into the sky, buildings obscured by scaffolding and plastic sheeting (in the Rotermann Quarter), dynamic stairwells (the Rauaniidi building), professional small forms (railings), and design (a plywood bicycle cart). There were massive self-generated walls of posters, random advertisements, trickles of water that had

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 96 cut their way into plastered surfaces, and intentional decorations (a heart on the wall of the Church of the Holy Spirit). There were events and movement, reflections and patterns of light in an underground tunnel, etc. The idea of this happening was to notice spatial manifestations through documentation. The spectator, on the other hand, gained an overview of tendencies: what existed and what was noticed. In conclusion, social art is questioning, participatory and critical, while the authorship of creative artwork or intervention is not important.

Fig 40: Spatial Intervention at SISU, Tallinn 2015.

METAMORPHOSES OF SPACE 97

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths

The former Pärnu Bathing Facility/Mud Baths building is now known as Hedon Spa. As a result of an architectural competition, a new plan allowed for an extension of the historic building by adding a three-storey hotel, and reconstruction of the Mud Baths building. After that, a competition for ideas was held with regard to the interior architecture. Vaikla Studio’s idea won (authors Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla and Urmo Vaikla) and I started to work with the project team of interior architecture. During the interior architectural planning, the architecture of the neoclassical Pärnu Mud Baths building and its modern extension had to be consolidated into a coherent interior within the traditional resort town of Pärnu. I count myself lucky to have been able to combine my practice as an interior architect with academic work in a way that could be called academic freedom.

 Fig 41: The entrance of Pärnu Mud Bath’s, Pärnu 2011. 99 Fig 42: The location of the Pärnu Mud Baths.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 100 My research question deals with the tangible and intangible spatial values of an abandoned historic building and how to create dynamic interaction between contemporary users’ expectations and needs with the historic building. I would hereby like to provide an analysis of my critical spatial practice. My first site-specific exhibition project created in the course of research – in order to describe this first-hand experience as it developed. The site-specific exhibition project Spatial Snapshot, held at the Pärnu Mud Baths 10–13 November 2011, examined the value of this former architectural landmark – a building abandoned many years ago – prior to its impending restoration and extension.

4.1 PÄRNU MUD BATHS AND SUMMER RESORT: THE STORY OF THE BUILDING AND CONTEXT

The sea and the beach belong to everyone and no one; it is a public space with a timeless aura. If conditions are favourable, a beach is accompanied by a summer resort unique in economic, geographical, conceptual and philosophical senses.136 There are two general types of resort dwellers: visitors and permanent residents. Beach structures mostly stand out due to their more or less pretentious architecture. The landscape architecture, environmental design, exterior and interior architecture, and art express the many facets of resort life. The beach has its own role to play in the spatial environment; this role entails spas and mud baths, casinos, beach pavilions, changing cubi- cles, promenades and parks, swimming piers etc.

Manifestations of traditional beach culture in modern Europe seem to act as a bridge connecting the past and the present: in Oostende, Belgium; Cascais, Portugal; Santa Marinella near Rome; Venice Lido by the Adriatic sea, etc. Looking for the diversities from different reagions I met more similarities than expected.

136 Beachlife: Architecture and Interior Design at the Seaside. Eds. C. Lowther, S. Schultz. Amsterdam: Frame Publishers, 2008, p. 7.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 101 Typical summer resort in Europe. Fig 43: Oostende, 2011. Fig 44: Cascais, 2014. Fig 45: Lido, Venice 2012. Fig 46: Santa Marinella 2014.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 102 In Estonia, resort life in Pärnu truly started to develop in 1834, which is when the city was removed from the Russian Empire’s list of for- tress towns. The spas and mud baths of Dubulti (near Riga), Haap- salu and Kuressaare were used as prototypes during the development of the resort. It was decided to develop a health resort, and confirmation of the natural radioactivity of the mud was obtained from the chemical labs of Saint Petersburg University (1896). The city government started to lease plots of land for the construction of villas at bargain rates, with the attached condition that at least four rooms would be rented out to holidaymakers. A regular ship connection with Riga was established in 1880. Forty beach huts for both men and women were set up on the shoreline and bathing machines or drays were used to reach the bathing spots. Separate beaches for ladies, gentlemen, families and dog owners – partitioned by sand embankments – were still to be seen in the 1920s.137 The ladies’ beach remains to this day.

Fig 47: Historical Pärnu Beach Chairs designed by the architect Olev Siinmaa (source: Museum of Estonian Architecture).

137 A. Vunk, Pärnu kuurordi kujunemise eellugu. – Päikesereis: Alvar Aalto ja Pärnu supelasutuse arhitektuurikonkursid. Näituse kataloog / Aurinkomatka: Alvar Aalto ja Pärnun kylpylän arkkitektuurikilpailut. Näyttelyluettelo. Eds. I. Laurik, K. Martsik. Pärnu: Pärnu Muuseum, Jyväskylä: Alvar Aalto museo, 2004, pp. 8–10.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 103 4.1.1 THE STORY OF THE MUD BATHS

The long straight road through the pastures, later to become Supe- luse street, led to a fortification structure by the sea. In 1830, the construction was re-purposed as an inn, and as early as 1838 it was adapted into a bathing facility for the local population. Warm sea water baths were offered in the summer, while in the winter the building functioned as a sauna. In 1889, the city bought the bathing facility and increased the number of bathtub-equipped chambers from six to sixteen. There, customers could enjoy water, bog water, pine needle, carbonic acid, and mud baths. The construction of both resort housing and industry increased, the latter having a limiting effect on resort life. One example was the Waldhof cellulose factory, detonated in 1915, along with a power plant and an oil mill, due to fears of a German landing operation. The entire resort area on the beach-front was damaged in a fire during World War I and the wooden building of the bathing facility was destroyed.138

During Estonia’s first era of independence (1918–1940), housing construction picked up again, grandiose villas were commissioned by merchants, and discussions on the restoration of the resort area began again. In 1922 and 1924 architectural competitions were held. Competition rules included an extensive inventory of rooms, with one of the guiding ideas being that there should be separate sections of the bathing facility for ladies and gentlemen, which steered the competing architects towards symmetrical solutions.139

138 A. Vunk, Pärnu kuurordi kujunemise eellugu, pp. 8–9. 139 One of the competitors was Alvar Aalto, whose plan La Tour de Soleil was inspired by the Italian patio. Aalto’s plan carried the idea of a ‘cultural sauna’ and exuded the dignity of Roman baths. For Aalto, this would not be simply a treatment facility or a resort building, but an edifice intended to heal society as a whole. Its cortile would be a place where monumental exterior architecture transformed into amiable human-sized interior architecture – Aalto considered this contrast to be the main concept of his plan, characterized by ‘the peace of a cloister and the coziness of an Italian garden’. Because Aalto had assigned a location for the mud bath rooms on the basement floor of the building, his plan was not included in the preferred selection. This layout would not have worked, as the sea level in Pärnu often rises above the critical zero line on the Kronstadt sea-gauge. Additionally, the jury found this ‘solution involving a completely shut-off medieval monastery around a square-shaped cortile’to be impractical and not up to expectations. (K. Hallas-Murula, 1920. aastate Eesti-Soome arhitektuurisuhetest ja Soome arhitektide töödest Pärnu supelasutuste konkursil. – Päikesereis, pp. 39–40). See also: I. Laurik, Pärnu supelasutuse arhitektuurivõistlused aastatel 1922 ja 1955. – Päikesereis, pp. 18–33; K. Pakoma, La Tour de Soil Alvar Aalto võistlusprojekt Pärnu supelasutuse ehituseks. – Päikesereis, pp. 54–57.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 104 Fig 48: Plan of the Mud Baths, construction phase in 1927, 1929 and 1936.

As no first prize was awarded, plans for the new bathing facility were eventually commissioned from the City Architect Olev Siinmaa, the third prize winner of the competition, and Wolffeldt and Nürnberg, the winners of the previous competition. They based their work on the T-shaped floor plan of the second prize winning plan, Seestern (by the Riga architects Arnold Maydell and Kurt Baetge), which had the advantage of being suitable for the distribution of mud. 140 The interior design, decor and furniture were planned by Siinmaa and the sculptural decorations by the sculptor Voldemar Mellik: a nude to be placed in the reception area, and a fountain for the island in the centre of the circular driveway by the entrance of the facility. This driveway still maintains its monumental position in today’s city traffic. The main building – a brick edifice with a neoclassical stucco facade facing the city – together with the beginnings of its adjoining wings, a mud unit extending towards the sea at a right angle, and a stand-alone mud cellar were completed in 1927. Two years later, the eastern wing was extended in order to make room for carbonic acid baths, and in 1936 the western wing was extended to house a spa unit.141

140 I. Laurik, Pärnu supelasutuse arhitektuurivõistlused aastatel 1922 ja 1955, p. 24. 141 M. Kalm, Sõdadevaheline Pärnu kuurort. – Päikesereis, p. 69.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 105 Fig 49: Old postcards from the Mud Baths (private archive: Jaan Moik).

In the 1920s, as people recovered from the shock of war, gradually holidaymakers started to return. Railway connections became faster and Finnish tourists were outnumbered by Swedes, who could take advantage of a steamboat connection between Pärnu and Stockholm. After the economic crisis of the 1930s, beach attractions became even more prominent than medical procedures. Pärnu was taking steps to become a summer resort for the whole of Europe.142 When the war came, resort facilities were collectivized by the Soviet powers (1940–1941). The subsequent German occupation (1941–1944) resur- rected resort life, making the resort available to civilians, as well as front line soldiers in need of recuperation.

Fig 50: Independence-era (1918–1940) postcards with people in front of the Mud Baths (source: private archive of Jaan Moik).

142 M. Kalm, Sõdadevaheline Pärnu kuurort. – Päikesereis, p. 72.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 106 Fig 51: Independence-era postcards with people in front of the Mud Baths (source: private archive of Jaan Moik).

The Soviet regime again collectivized the resort at the end of the war. According to official plans, the former bathing facility – now called the Mud Baths – would offer an average of 200 mud baths per day, 120 of which were reserved for military personnel and 80 for civilians.143 The Mud Baths facility was equipped with central heating and the medical institution continued to flourish as a model of the Soviet lifestyle, as attested by the replacement of the fountain with a statue of Stalin, erected in this very central location of the city. Privileged workers from all over the Soviet Union were awarded health packages and arrived for mud treatments; the always overcrowded Pärnu was also a permanent holiday spot for the creative intelligentsia from Leningrad and Moscow.

143 T. Kask, Pärnu kuurort 1940–1955. – Reis [nõukogude] läände: kuurortlinn Pärnu 1940–88 / Journey to the [Soviet] West: Resort Town of Pärnu During 1940–88. Eds. T. Kask, A. Vunk. Pärnu: Pärnu Linnavalitsus 2009, pp. 41; See also: T. Kask, Pärnu kuurort 1956–1988. – Reis [nõukogude] läände, pp. 89–105.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 107 Fig 52: Soviet-era postcards (source: private archive of Jaan Moik).

In the 1990s, after the re-establishment of Estonia’s independence, no investments were made and the city-owned building began to deteriorate. Unlike other spas, the Pärnu Mud Baths did not offer accommodation, which meant that customers could not simply walk from their bedrooms to the treatment rooms in their bathrobes. The building started to fall into ruin and was finally abandoned in 2005. Occasionally, it was used as a venue for exhibitions and other projects. In 2011, when I started to record my interviews for this exhibition project during the architects’ and interior architects’ summer seminar, the lobby of the building was covered in black plastic for the Pärnu film festival. The melancholy of this forgotten place melded with the poetic fall landscape of the beach, inspiring me to capture this moment in time.

Fig 53a: The abandoned Mud Baths (photos for the exhibition Spatial Snapshot by Ingel Vaikla, Pärnu 2011).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 108 Fig 53b: The abandoned Mud Baths (photos for the exhibition Spatial Snapshot by Ingel Vaikla, Pärnu 2011).

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 109 4.2 EXHIBITION PROJECT SPATIAL SNAPSHOT, PÄRNU MUD BATHS, 10–13 NOVEMBER 2011

Fig 54: Photos from the opening of the exhibition Spatial Snapshot, Pärnu 2011.

With my exhibition, I reopened the doors of this deserted building to the locals, new users, architecture lovers and professionals, so that they could take in the phenomenon of abandonment as it existed at that moment. I myself was involved with the building as both an interior architect and a researcher. It was equally important to highlight the historic value of the edifice and to introduce the varied perspectives of people involved with the building, both historic and future-orientated. The exhibition prompted viewers to

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 110 exchange views on the valuable aspects of this old building, as well as its functional and pragmatic new use. The deserted and soon- to-be reconstructed building served as a venue for a spatial performance, an act of design activism. This performance became a point of convergence and an opportunity to develop a relationship with this derelict building. The building was activated by means of design: light and shadow, sound and silence, as well as humid smells were used to focus viewers’ attention on the acoustics, materiality and valuable elements of the space (symmetrical galleries, sculptures and colonnades, decorations, doors and windows, bays, tiling, etc.; see exhibition plans and Appendix 1). Among the exhibits were interviews, projected photos, and nostalgic postcards with messages. All of this was supplemented by viewers’ own interactions, music, etc. .8 3479

Fig 55: Section of the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths.

The aim of the site-specific project was in the same spirit as that of Kazuyo Sejima, the curator of the 2010 Architecture Biennial People Meet in Architecture: ‘The idea is to help people relate to architecture, help architecture relate to people, and to help people relate to themselves’.144 Architecture is where people’s needs meet local possibilities; it’s not only about a playful concept. A building only works as long as its function corresponds to current needs, and it starts to deteriorate as soon as it doesn’t. In today’s post-industrial world, including modern- day Estonia, historic buildings are brought up to date and adapted for current needs using modification and extension. The users of the building have varied greatly over the course of this resort town’s evolution: from foreign and local gentlefolk to German front line soldiers to privileged Soviet workers. Meanwhile, the building also carries significance for people who have never gone beyond its opulent facade.

144 R. Etherington, Venice Architecture Theme Announced. - Dezeen, 20 January 2010, https:// www.dezeen.com/2010/01/28/venice-architecture-biennale-theme-announced/ (accessed 27 March 2017).

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 111 PÄRNU MUDARAVILA / PÕHIPLAAN

B.1.007 B.1.006 B.1.005 KONTOR ABIRUUM PAGAS 19,2 m2 6,5 m2 9,8 m2

B.1.003 KAMINARUUM 54,1 m2

B.1.004 RETSEPTSIOON 17,6 m2

B.1.001 TUULEKODA 16,5 m2

B.1.082 B.1.084 B.1.041 DUSH PERSONALI SÖÖGIRUUM KOKK 6,9 m2 11,8 m2 5,4 m2 B.1.048 B.1.049 J. LADU J. LADU 3,2 m2 3,2 m2 B.1.002 LOBBY 236,1 m2 B.1.081 N.RIIETUS 16,7 m2 B.1.040 B.1.083 B.1.043 KÖÖK WC K.V. 87,8 m2 1,2 2,4 m2 B.1.020 NÕUPIDAMISRUUM 32,3 m2

B.1.044 KUIVLADU B.1.009 B.1.008 6,1 m2 RESTORAN HALL B.1.080 300,1 m2 WC 71,6 m2 1,2 B.1.079 B.1.078 DUSH M .RIIETUS 5,9 m2 10,1 m2

B.1.045 KÜLMKAMBER 6,8 m2

B.1.061 B.1.062 B.1.077 B.1.076 TURVA/TEHN. SERVER SUITSURUUM KORIDOR 6,1 m2 4,9 m2 5,9 m2 15,2 m2

B.1.018 B.1.019 K.V. TREPIKODA B.1.046 B.1.017 4,2 m2 6,2 m2 KÜLMKAMBER B.1.014 ELEKTRIKILP 6,8 m2 INVA WC 11,3 m2 3,6 m2

16 tõusu B.1.016 168x300 mm LASTE MÄNGURUUM B.1.060 37,0 m2 TUULEKODA 5,7 m2 B.1.047 NÕUD 4,7 m2 B.1.013 HOTELL JUURDEEHITUS: M. WC 11,7 m2

B.1.015 B.1.023 B.1.024 N. WC SOOJASÕLM JÕUSAAL B.1.063 B.1.021 15,2 m2 11,0 m2 51,6 m2 LIFTI EESRUUM HALL B.1.064 25,3 m2 18,8 m2 KORIDOR 14,6 m2

B.1.073 B.1.074 B.1.022

B.1.065 UUS P.PESU K.LADU KORIDOR KONTOR 4,5 m2 B.1.075 7,7 m2 B.1.072 11,1 m2 LADU 43,1 m2 TEHN.LADU 6,0 m2 B.1.066 4,7 m2 KAUBA V. 8,1 m2 B.1.070 M .PESU 14,0 m2 B.1.067 5,3 m2

B.1.069 B.1.068 PRÜGI B.1.071 LAADIMINE 20,2 m2 K.V. 17,0 m2 4,2 m2

B.1.025 KORIDOR 18,0

B.1.010 ÜRITUSRUUM 68,1 m2 A.1.039 A.1.042 N. RIIETUS M. RIIETUS 14,0 13,0

B.1.012 LADU 8,5 m2 A.1.037 DUSH A.1.040 B.1.026 7,0 DUSH PUHKERUUM 6,4 75,2 (täpsustub) m2

B.1.011 VEESÕLM 12,1 m2

A.1.041 A.1.038 WC WC 1,8 2,6

lum.valgustus tala taga (pos3) A.1.036 WC EESRUUM A.1.074 2,2 A.1.062 LED-riba LADU LADU põrandaserva 12,8 m2 13,2 m2 taga (pos49)

A.1.035 A.1.034 BASSEINITEHNIKARUUM ÜHENDUSRUUM 11,9 20,5 m2

eksponeeritud peegel vanad vannid peegel A.1.061 A.1.073 A.1.033 HOOLITSUS HOOLITSUS BASSEINITEHNIKARUUM 12,6 12,5 31,9 A.1.031 prozhektor ÜHENDUSRUUM tala taga 7,8 m2 (pos39)

A.1.060 A.1.072 A.1.111 HOOLITSUS HOOLITSUS A.1.032 WC 12,1 peegel 12,2 3,1 LÕÕGASTUSRUUM 38,3 m2 A.1.106 peegel TUULEKODA 4,9 A.1.110 A.1.112 ARHIIV LÜÜS 6,5 2,9

LED-riba LED-riba leti ääre all leti ääre all A.1.059 HOOLITSUS A.1.071 12,2 HOOLITSUS 12,2 A.1.109 NÕUPIDAMINE A.1.030 11,5 A.1.105 A.1.028 RAAM. & PERS. ATRAKTSIOONIBASSEIN AURUSAUN 66,5 19,5 15,2 m2 A.1.058 A.1.070 A.1.029 HOOLITSUS HOOLITSUS ÜHENDUSRUUM 12,2 peegel 12,2 11,7 m2

peegel A.1.027 -1.450 TUULEKODA A.1.108 4,4 m2 HOTELLIJUHT peegel 18,3 A.1.104 A.1.057 A.1.069 MÜÜGIJUHT HOOLITSUS HOOLITSUS 12,9 12,2 peegel 12,2

A.1.068 A.1.025 A.1.056 A.1.024 A.1.026 HOOLITSUS PUHKERUUM 1200 LASTEBASSEIN SOOLABASSEIN HOOLITSUS peegel 12,2 28,0 A.1.107 12,2 36,5 RENN 36,3 TOITL.- JA SPA JUHT 18,5 peegel A.1.103 KABINET 12,0

RGB LED-riba -1.000 karniisitagusena peegel seinaorvas (pos50) 66,5 A.1.055 A.1.067 HOOLITSUS A.1.102 peegel HOOLITSUS P. RIIETUSRUUM 12,2 12,2 10,7 A.1.023 A.1.052 A.1.064 SANAARIUMI ABIRUUM KORIDOR KORIDOR 2,0 m2 55,3 m2 LED-riba 55,4 m2 A.1.100 peegel põrandasrva taga A.1.022 (pos49) A.1.066 ÜHENDUSRUUM A.1.054 HOOLITSUS SANAARIUM A.1.101 50,5 HOOLITSUS 12,0 9,6 m2 P. PUHKERUUM 12,0 11,3 seinavalgusti üleval kahe akna vahel peegel (pos34)

süvist. hal . dushinurga kohal kipsripplaes

1200 A.1.043 DUSHIRUUM RENN A.1.019 6,3 A.1.091 ÜHENDUSRUUM WC A.1.050 44,1 2,7 m2 ÜHENDUSRUUM 112,8 A.1.021 AROOMISAUN 8,3 m2

A.1.020 A.1.090 A.1.084 AROOMISAUNA ABIRUUM MED. JUHATAJA WC 1,4 m2 16,4 2,9

keris 950x550mm

RENN 1200 A.1.089 EKRAAN A.1.018 LADU LEILIRUUM 3,1 m2 laius 2,4m 4,4m EKRAAN A.1.011 9,9 A.1.081 laius 2,4m A.1.085 PUHKERUUM N. RIIETUSRUUM KORIDOR A.1.092 A.1.082 41,4 m2 vooluvõtt PIKENDUSJUHE 20m 2tk 41,4 m2 A.1.012 32,0 LABOR AUDIOMEETRI RUUM PIKENDUSJUHE 15m 2tk A.1.088 7,8 DUSHIRUUM 11,0 PIKENDUSJUHE 10m 2tk 25,7 AMBUL. VASTUVÕTT PIKENDUSJUHE 5m 2tk 15,2 4,4m

A.1.093 PROJEKTOR A.1.013 kinnitub lakke LÜÜS A.1.094 2,2m LEILIRUUM 1,3 KORIDOR 7,3 PROJEKTOR arvutid HOONE AJALOOLINE 4,6 A.1.083 kinnitub lakke A.1.087 A.1.095 ARHIIV ühendatud projektoriga A.1.014 K.V. ABIRUUM 7,6 WC 2,1 1,1 2m 1,6

A.1.086 TV-EKRAAN A.1.010 DVD-MÄNGIJA KARDIOLOOG GALERII A.1.044 KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk 40,2 m2 A.1.007 18,4 A.1.080 MEESTE RIIETUSRUUM OOTERUUM LÜÜS TV-EKRAAN 11,5 9,2 55,7 m2 DVD-MÄNGIJA KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk A.1.016 A.1.017 WC DUSHIRUUM 1,7 27,0 LED-riba istme all (pos49)

TV-EKRAAN TV-EKRAAN DVD-MÄNGIJA DVD-MÄNGIJA KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk

Fig 56: Plan of the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths – valuable details of the interior. näitusel välja valgustatud väärtuslikud interjööridetailide asukohad

The exhibition used narratives to examine the transformation of this space: people talking about their memories, experiences and expectations with regard to the old Mud Baths building. Among the interviewees were former and current citizens of Pärnu, officials of the National Heritage Board, historians, architects, developers, designers, former employees and patients. Although the context has changed many times over the lifetime of the current neoclassical bathing facility, its facade has always prompted people to have a decorous photo taken of themselves, as witnessed by copious postcards and pictures in family albums.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 112 süvist. hal . dushinurga kohal kipsripplaes

A.1.050 ÜHENDUSRUUM 112,8

aknaluuk aknaluuk

EKRAAN laius 2,4m 4,4m EKRAAN PUHKERUUM laius 2,4m vooluvõtt PIKENDUSJUHE 20m 2tk peegel PIKENDUSJUHE 15m 2tk PIKENDUSJUHE 10m 2tk PIKENDUSJUHE 5m 2tk 4,4m SA-J09

PROJEKTOR kinnitub lakke 2,2m

arvutid PROJEKTOR ühendatud projektoriga kinnitub lakke

seinal suured must-valged fotod

TV-EKRAAN DVD-MÄNGIJA KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk

TV-EKRAAN TV-EKRAAN DVD-MÄNGIJA DVD-MÄNGIJA KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk KÕRVAKLAPID 2tk

Fig 57: Plan of the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mudnobless Baths – position oblige of the 1:100 screens for the interviews.

As I arrived to explore the deserted building on a very sunny and snowy March day, the frozen edifice revealed to me all of its various strata: the Siinmaa-era glory, Soviet-era ‘complete renovation’, haphazard ‘decorations’ of the early post-Soviet years, vague signs of flood damage, and scraps left behind from an exhibition by the Academia Non Grata group. I found that this building, with its neoclassical facade completed in 1927, did not speak to me. So I started to look for possible markers to guide me toward a new approach. There were several leads to follow: the Mud Baths building is

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 113 considered a monument, and therefore special conditions of the National Heritage Board apply: the logistical floor plan of the building – the original symmetrical room distribution of space along with the galleries and valuable elements of the interior – must be preserved.145

In order to help me reach an interior architectural understanding of the typology and nature of the historic building’s architecture, and to find some leads and connections for the restoration and modern extension of the building, Spatial Snapshot was a creative part of my otherwise practical research. The time and place of the exhibition were very fitting, as Pärnu was at the time host- ing a conference marking the 130th birthday of the architect Olev Siinmaa, and demolition and construction work on the Mud Baths building was about to begin. The reason for this exhibition was primarily emotional: driven by a long-time wish to hold an event in a deserted building. I wished to bring the building back to life for a few days and nights by opening it up to the citizens of Pärnu and allowing visitors – who likely owned many family photographs taken in front of the opulent facade of the building, and yet had never set foot inside – to develop a personal relationship to the building.

I interpret this building as an emotional and mental space that mainly has to do with people’s individual ideas and mental images. Lefebvre calls this imagined or mental space; it is emotional and mental and has connections to intellect, ideals and concepts, as well as the place, plans and developments that we use to practice human spatiality in an abstract way.146 Lefebvre puts the focus on the user and creator (i.e. designer) of a space. An interior architectural project naturally presumes interpreting the physical space.

According to Pallasmaa, the sensory properties of a space, such as its smells, scents and memories, are as valuable as the properties visible to the eye.147 Böhme sees atmosphere as a symbiosis of the objective properties and subjective personal experiences that a space carries.148 If atmosphere has to do with the physical experience of a space, then rooms and buildings speak of time, and the tangible qualities of architecture can be experienced through the

145 L. Välja, Pärnu Mudaravila. Muinsuskaitse eritingimused hoone restaureerimiseks. Tallinn, 2011 (Archive of Muinsuskaitseamet [National Heritage Board], ERA.5025.2.12140). 146 H. Lefebvre, The Production of Space, p. 11. 147 J. Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 7. 148 G. Böhme, Atmosphere as Mindful Physical Presence in Space, pp. 21–31.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 114 physicality and materiality of the architecture. Atmospheric themes, such as hiding and revealing, rhythm and sound, transparency and opacity, manifest themselves in materiality.149

We tried out some modern lighting solutions in the old building, using halogen spotlights with adjustable brightness (as well as some fluorescent and incandescent lamps) in order to entice visitors to move around and explore the complicated floor plan. I used lighting to highlight historically valuable elements and help generate a positive atmosphere. I called attention to the peeling paint and chunks of plaster on the floor, seeing them as creating a poetic and fleeting moment that would be impossible to recre- ate in the future. It only took sensitive lighting and reflections to bring the various elements and surfaces of the space to life and to start interaction with the modern visitor. The natural daylight was mutable, as usual for Estonia in November: either a yellow sunlight casting extremely crisp shadows or a short-lived and con- sistently dim glow. The post-echoes carried by the construction materials emphasised the immensity of the building, creating a somewhat eerie contrast with the blissful holiday mood. All in all, the aim of my intervention was to amplify the frozen state of the building in order to demonstrate that there can be dignity in dilapidation. Architecture is all about contrast: new and old, light and dark, vacancy and density, coarseness and delicacy. Contrast offers one way to solve a spatial puzzle. The idea of the exhibition was to guide the viewer towards noticing opposites, e.g. the good old days vs. modern-day desolation. Large projections of old photos and postcards depicting people standing in front of the Mud Baths, together with the accompanying notes in Estonian, German and Latvian (which I’d given a new graphic presentation using a typewriter font) were juxtaposed with modern views of the grim- looking beach during the off-season, and the derelict building. Zooming into old photos of people’s faces is a useful technique for resurrecting time and place; this is something that viewers might recognise from Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow Up. Antonioni, who had also studied architecture, used spatial techniques and situations to tell his stories and impact viewers’ sense of the atmosphere of a room.150

149 K. Havik, G. Tielens, Material and Atmosphere, p. 97. 150 L. van Schaik, Spatial Intelligence, p. 49.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 115 Fig 58: Old postcards (source: private archive of Jaan Moik) and the zoomed fragments of the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths, Pärnu 2011.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 116 Fig 59: Old texts of the postcards at the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths, Pärnu 2011.

The process of resurrecting the building for the exhibition was also an important one for the local residents, creating an opportunity for them to access the closed-off building, walk around in it, ask questions, and talk about their experiences: to interact with the building as well as each other. For myself, being there for three days to observe and interact acted as a sort of test: an attempt to present and record collective memories, discover and introduce new meaning, and gain a sense of this space, as well as the local people. All this is normally impossible for an interior architect to do by simply communicating at the work site in the course of the work process. The contemplation that was evident when talking to people at the exhibition was an important experience for me: I gained an understanding of the many small and personal relationships that people have with this building, basically unseen by the public.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 117 Fig 60a: Illuminated valuable details at the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths, Pärnu 2011.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 118 Fig 60b: Illuminated valuable details at the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths, Pärnu 2011.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 119 Fig 60c: Illuminated valuable details at the exhibition Spatial Snapshot at the Mud Baths, Pärnu 2011.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 120 4.3 RESTORATION OF THE HISTORIC MUD BATHS BUILDING: MODERNISATION AND EXTENSION

The former Pärnu Bathing Facility/Mud Baths building is now known as Hedon Spa, and remains an architectural landmark of Pärnu. As a result of an architectural competition, a plan had been drawn up based on the existing detailed plan. This new plan allowed for an extension of the historic building by adding a three-storey hotel, and reconstruction of the Mud Baths building (architects Tarmo Teedumäe, Inga Raukas and Paco Ulman). After that, a competition for ideas was held with regard to the interior architecture, and our idea won.151 We started working on the interior architectural planning of the Mud Baths – the spa centre and hotel – with the main focus on the physical space.

The plan needed to comply with special conditions set by the National Heritage Board, dictating that the original symmetrical room distribution and the galleries be preserved. The list of valuable elements of the interior encompassed about 50% of all doors and windows; among those preserved were the decorated glass doors separating the lobby and the reception area, as well as the doors and door frames of recreation rooms. In addition to the original windows, there was a still-operational interior window with a wooden Roman shades mechanism. Some other remarkable elements that have been preserved are the striking ceiling decorations and cavetto vaults of the lobby, a dome ceiling with an ornate glass window and a coffered tunnel vault supported by four Doric col- umns, and the reception area pool with its nude sculpture. Although a little cracked, the original Mettlach tile floor of the reception area is still there, as well as the original white tile walls of the east wing of the building, etc. The unique wall niches in the east wing gallery and former circular shower room of the west wing also remain, as well as the integrated wall cabinets of the east wing gallery, designed by Olev Siinmaa, and faience mud baths. The floor plan of the building has been preserved in its entirety. All of these assets provided an essential anchor for our work process, and as a result we were able to preserve the unique features of this space to an even larger degree than expected. The former mud corridor connecting the old and new buildings has become an important feature of the complex, and the adjacent former mud bath rooms, with four-meter high ceilings, are currently still used for administering

151 Vaikla Studio, competition entry by T.-K. Vaikla and U. Vaikla.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 121 spa treatments. All in all, the old Mud Baths building has retained its original function, housing spa facilities: massage and recreation rooms, pools, saunas and a hair salon.

Fig 61: The floor plan – periods of doors and windows, paint analysis, details (source: archive of Muinsuskaitseamet [National Heritage Board]).

In the course of the modernisation, it occurred to us that the two architecturally very different buildings – old and new – should form a coherent entity. Coming up with an idea to manage this was a significant part of the work process. Guests entering from Supeluse street on the city side of the building first step into a grand lobby with an opulent dome ceiling and symmetrical side galleries spreading out to each side. The new building that lies between the old Mud Baths and the sea houses a hotel complex: hotel rooms, a lobby, a restaurant and conference rooms. Guests entering from the side of the new hotel can access the old spa via the monumental old corridor that was formerly used for transport- ing sea mud to the Mud Baths. This is the most unique feature of the finished project: what used to be a long service corridor is now open to the public as fascinatingly atmospheric, dimly lit space, with the layers of its history removed from the now-exposed constructive walls, on display together with the once functional mud

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 122 openings and historic baths. Instead of being restored impeccably, the dome ceilings of the main lobby and the room with the nude sculpture were only coated with a slightly translucent glaze that lets the wear and tear of time show through. Old floors and tiled walls, crumbling frieze: all of this remains visible and palpable in a natural way. The walls were partly painted by hand, using a paint- brush. We managed to steer clear of only creating new value and avoided extreme restoration.

As the interior architect, I focused on creating an integrated space across the two buildings with two very different, yet beautiful uses of architectural form. The new building, constructed by the sea, was elegant and its form fit in well in the resort, but still it was too isolated and independent to be perceived as only a secondary extension. The key to finding the right interior architectural concept turned out to be interpreting the atmosphere of the erstwhile European summer resort in a modern way that would embrace the interior design of both the old and the new buildings. The two converged in the monochrome black and white scheme of the interior. In the course of the long work process (2010–2014), the initial sketch submitted for the competition was developed into constructional work drawings, and then into the exhibition and research project held in the abandoned Mud Baths building (2011). The exhibition was followed by a year-long pause. Within a few years, we reworked the interior architectural plan, construction and restoration work began, and the renewed building complex with the historic spa building and new hotel building was completed and opened for use. The Estonian Association of Interior Architects awarded the development its 2014–2015 annual award for the best public interior.152 From the perspective of gentrification, the resurrection of the former Mud Baths as a modern spa and hotel complex is an example of both new-building and tourism gentrification in this area, as the complex is currently primarily used by local and international tourists.153

152 Ruumipilt 2014–2015: Eesti parimad interjöörid ja disain / Estonian Best Interiors and Design. Ed. Piret Lindpere. Tallinn: Eesti Sisearhitektide Liit, 2015, p. 108. 153 Hedon Spa has received several awards for being an effective space.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 123 Fig 62a: Completed interior of the old Mud Baths and the new extension, Hedon Spa, Pärnu 2014.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 124 Fig 62b: Completed interior of the old Mud Baths and the new extension, Hedon Spa, Pärnu 2014.

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 125 Fig 62c: Completed interior of the old Mud Baths and the new extension, Hedon Spa, Pärnu 2014.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 126 4.4 CONCLUSIONS

The research question deals with the tangible and intangible spatial values of an abandoned historic building and how to create dynamic interaction between contemporary users’ expectations and needs and a historic building. Working on the restoration and extension project plan for the Mud Baths, I relied on the personal and phenomenological spatial experience I had gained from my Spatial Snapshot exhibition project. Completing the social/mental side – interviewing the different people involved – convinced me to preserve the traditional values even in a modern creative design approach. Some following key things/thoughts are listed which came from the site-specific project that then informed the commercial interior architecture project. This manifested itself in the use of more atmospheric spotlights instead of common general lighting, among other things. Such a specific choice helped us develop the lighting configuration used in the lobby of the old building and on the Mellik nude: the warm and emotive lighting is the same that we first tested at the exhibition. Because of the changed function of the space, it also became necessary to select acoustically absorbent materials for the furnishings. Modern principles of design were applied delicately to achieve a certain harmonious balance between the old space and the new intervention. For example, contrasting was used in the colour schemes, lighting and furnishings to accentuate the old building. Modern systems were only applied to a reasonable degree: no cooling systems were installed, saunas were built as box-in-box constructions, etc. Overall, it was important that the result should be sensitive: the atmosphere should blend in with that of Pärnu, and the materials and shapes should be kept simple, as befits a summer resort. Reason- able compromise solutions also manifested themselves in the fact that modern spa conditions were not strictly adhered to, but were instead accommodated within reason, by accepting that the temperature would be a couple of degrees below the customary +30°C in the pool area, as well as making an allowance for old doors, and cracks in the historical floor tiles.

It is possible for a modern-day architect to facilitate the interaction of the old and the new, thus creating a suspenseful, systematic, open, safe and inviting space that liberates and equalizes. According to Appelbaum, a building does not belong to its creators or con- structors, but starts instead to live an autonomous life of its own, reflecting a range of different values that change over time: artistic value, aesthetic value, historic value, use value and sentimental

CASE I – Pärnu Mud Baths 127 value, research value, educational value, age value, newness value, monetary value, associative value, commemorative value and rarity.154 All of the above can be observed in the Mud Baths. These values often present themselves together, being indivisible and self-evident. In addition to the more obvious aspects, I would also like to empha- size the educational value of this building, as evidenced by features reflecting the historical eras of this health facility and resort culture as a whole (mud baths, mud openings, etc.). The associative value, on the other hand, lies in the fact that the building is representative of other similar mud baths characteristic of their time. When it comes to restoration, however, my preference is to move beyond simple conservation and preservation (which carries the risk of bringing about a museum-like suspension in time), discovering instead the hidden potential of a building and making it relevant for modern purposes. I agree with Paolo Portoghesi’s recommendation that the archetypal shape and structure of a building should be preserved and consolidated with its interior and exterior, just as frames of a film disappear and merge together, only to re-emerge in an altered state, but still bearing a connection to what went before.155 From the old building to the new, the same motifs, colour schemes and materials were echoed in a slightly varied manner, with unexpected allusions to each building, both historical and modern.

In conclusion, the activation of a building – which is nowadays the intention of architecture by Sejima – succeeded in the Pärnu Mud Baths case study. The interaction between the historic building and contemporary user has been realized in an intensive mode, with the help of synergy by all people involved in the process. Critically, I would say that there could have been more integration of the local community, which would have involved opening the building to citizens, providing a small welcome tea bar in the old lobby, a welcoming exhibition in the historic mud corridor, etc. I had a great opportunity to relate to the neighbourhood, the historic building and its broader developmental context.

154 B. Appelbaum, Conservation Treatment Methodology, pp. 89–114. 155 P. Portoghesi, Transformation and Metamorphosis, pp. 42.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 128 129

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall

The Linnahall concert and sports hall has been a landmark of Tallinn since 1980, and has stood vacant next to the harbour for years. While the Mud Baths building had a positive image and development was already under way at the time of my spatial intervention, people’s attitudes toward the Linnahall were unclear. One of the aims of this creative project was to determine the position of this building in the public opinion and to find ways to make that opinion more positive. In spite of its Soviet history, the Linnahall required both attention and a positive image that would promote its restoration, as the danger of the building collapsing was becoming more and more real. Unlike the first case study, the derelict building was presented in a different context. The second exhibition project, How Long is the life of a Building?, was held in Venice as the Estonian exhibition for the 13th Architecture Biennale in 2012, which was curated by David Chipperfield and entitled Common Ground. The exhibition focused on the abandonment of valuable modernist architecture in Estonia, using Tallinn’s Linnahall as an example. The aim was to provoke the audience to discuss and form an opinion on the functional usage and temporal durability of buildings. According to my research questions, the project also touched on the way a building’s material (tangible) and non-material (intangible) values change over time, and examined people’s behavioural patterns, in an attempt to identify their actual hopes and needs, using this one specific building to illustrate the case.

 Fig 63: Linnahall – Ice arena, Tallinn 2017 (photo: Tõnu Tunnel). 131 Fig 64: The location of the Tallinn Linnahall.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 132 5.1 DECLINING MODERNITY. DEMOLISH? FORGET? ‘HIBERNATE’? RECONSTRUCT?

There are a remarkably large number of useless, abandoned buildings all around the globe, and that includes Estonian cities and countryside. In my treatment of this case, I considered the possible futures of Estonia’s modernist Soviet-era buildings from the 1960s and 1970s that are currently vacant, and not just the Linnahall. The topic also includes the kolkhoz (collective farm) buildings that are scattered all over Estonia, symbolic architecture that has attracted a great deal of attention in professional circles and is often discussed. What kind of life they have witnessed, how they could be used today and who they could be useful for tomorrow: what is their value and in what way should they be preserved for the future? A great number of buildings in Estonia have been placed under heritage protection, but this does not in and of itself guarantee that they will be preserved. Principles for the preservation and restoration of buildings from all historical periods were outlined in the Venice Charter (1964). The most important principles of conservation laid out in the Charter are still adhered to today: to prevent history from being distorted, imitation should be avoided and the work of the original master preserved in as authentic a way as possible, while any new additions should be clearly visible as such. The later Nara Document on Authenticity (1994) expands the idea of heritage conservation to encompass both tangible and intangible heritage, broadening the notion of authenticity and highlighting the importance of research and new developments with the aim of understanding the essence of different cultures in the context of authenticity (see Chapter 2.4).

What can be done to give a new purpose to an abandoned building? In the aftermath of the worldwide economic crisis (2008), it is not very rational to abandon architecturally symbolic buildings that have sufficient potential for current use. To preserve a building, it needs to be assigned a new purpose, because buildings age both physically and morally. This naturally clashes with the modernist principle of form follows function, setting an even greater challenge for architects. Mies van der Rohe’s conviction that because buildings outlast their initial purposes and must therefore be able to adapt to various circumstances led him to conclude that when it comes to functionality, the only buildings that make any sense are those with no function at

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 133 all.156 The mutability of society and day-to-day life, and the resulting necessity of universally adaptable spaces in which the user acts as a co-author was already recognized by the modernists. This principle is still relevant today, as there is no permanence in constant change, and resources are mostly scarce. Architecture is a living organism that is perpetually transformed by the efforts of both new users, architects and builders, yet it doesn’t belong to its creators: it is independent and leads a life of its own, reflecting a range of different values changing over time.157 This information mostly affects people, ourselves. What roles do different groups play in the preservation and continued functioning of valuable buildings? The reconstruction of existing buildings assumes the arrival of a new user, as well as appreciation of historical architecture. Public opinion can be shaped by architects, the state and media. History has shown that the political system of a time period becomes especially obvious in the visual language of architecture. In the long-term perspective, the prevalence of new buildings is on the decline and new solutions are being sought to adapt existing buildings in a practical way, such as the transformation of old factory buildings into contemporary creative hubs or residences. Inspiration can be drawn from the type and form of a building, especially when the floor plans and cross-sections are regarded as a clean slate, open to the reinterpretation of life in that building. For architects setting out to plan a new building starting with large volumes and moving on to partitioning details, from the outside in, the public expectation is that they should consider the context, the surrounding environment and what is realistically viable. An interior architect, conversely, works from the inside of a building out, from the perspective of the user. The same principle applies when reinterpreting existing buildings based on their potential, i.e. the possibilities hidden in the architecture.

The exhibition catalogue and the exhibition project at the Venice Biennale of Architecture addressed the abandonment of the Lin- nahall, as well as the deterioration of Estonia’s architecturally distinguished modernist heritage from the Soviet era, aggravated by the sociopolitical situation and politically motivated back-and-forth games regarding plans. Why would an acclaimed building such as the Linnahall be abandoned after only a few decades of use? Unfor- tunately anything that cannot be marketed fades away. Degenerating infrastructure causes the local network of people to disintegrate. As well as poorly constructed Soviet buildings, mass-produced based on lousy standard plans, architecturally outstanding former

156 P. Blake, The Master Builders, p. 222. 157 P. Portoghesi, Transformation and Metamorphosis, p. 34.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 134 kolkhoz centres also lie abandoned. The same goes for community cultural centres, holiday houses and schools, the best examples of Estonian architects’ oeuvre, both in their former glory and current abandoned state.

In the 1960s, more and more well-to-do farms constructed buildings, and the quality of life in the countryside surpassed that in the cities. The Kolkhoz architecture of the Estonian SSR was one of the most original cultural phenomena of the Eastern Bloc, most often manifesting itself in the form of administrative centre buildings: symbols of farms’ vitality. The architecture was inspired by Finnish modernism (Alvar Aalto’s expressive forms), as well as monumental minimalism, which was fond of right angles (in the style of Raine Karp). Although contrasting white with pure colour can be traced back to Le Corbusier, in the 1970s it was associated with the fashionable pop art that intro- duced the aesthetics of the Yellow Submarine to interior design in Estonia.158 I included some of the more interesting examples of this in the Biennale exhibition catalogue: the Cafe Tuljak, now rebuilt and in use, on Pirita Road in Tallinn (architect Valve Pormeister, interior architects Väino Tamm and Vello Asi, 1964); the administrative centre and sauna / holiday house of the Linda kolkhoz in Kobela (architect Toomas Rein, interior architect Aulo Padar, 1973); the administrative building of the Sverdlov kolkhoz in Tsooru (architect Toomas Rein, interior architect Helle Gans, 1969–1977); the administrative building of the Kolkhoz Construction Office in Rapla (architect Toomas Rein, interior architect Aulo Padar, 1971–77); the office / club of the Põdrangu sovkhoz in Tamsalu (architect Maara Metsal, sgraffiti by Eva Jänes, interior architect Maia Laul, 1977); the administrative centre of the Laeva sovkhoz (architect Toomas Rein, 1978); the administrative centre of the Peetri kolkhoz (architect Vilen Künnapu, interior architect Mari Kurismaa, 1979); the game-house of the Council of Ministers holiday village in Valgeranna (architect Meeli Truu, interior architect Taevo Gans, 1979); and the production and administrative centre of the Kirov fishing kolkhoz in Omedu (architect Ado Eigi, 1980–82). The high efficiency and relative prosperity of kolkhozy in the 1970s was unique to Estonia. Here revenue was reinvested in the buildings, which provided an opportunity to create distinguished architecture; this was truer in the countryside than in the cities. The pure geometrical plans reflect the function of the buildings and represent the innovative attitude of modern machine aesthetics.

158 M. Kalm, Eesti 20. sajandi arhitektuur. Tallinn: Prisma Prindi Kirjastus, 2001, pp. 375–376.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 135 A B C

G H

Fig 65: Ground plans of examples of Estonian modernism (source: Museum of Estonian Architecture). A – The administrative centre and sauna / holiday house of the Linda kolkhoz in Kobela. B – The office / club of the Põdrangu sovkhoz in Tamsalu. C – The administrative building of the Kolkhoz Construction Office in Rapla. D – The administrative centre of the Peetri kolkhoz. E – The administrative building of the Sverdlov kolkhoz in Tsooru. F – The game-house of the Council of Ministers holiday village in Valgeranna. G – The production and administrative centre of the Kirov fishing kolkhoz in Omedu. H – The administrative centre of the Laeva sovkhoz.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 136 B C D G

H F

A E

Fig 66: Locations of examples of Estonian modernism.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 137 I invited experts of architecture to convene for a round-table discussion on the stage of the Linnahall to address this issue and gather a broad range of opinions for the Venice Biennale How Long is the Life of a Building? exhibition catalogue. I asked Andres Kurg, an art historian and expert on the Linnahall, to moderate the discussion, having previously outlined a number of questions for the panelists to address and seek answers to:

• What should be done with currently vacant, but architecturally valuable modernist buildings from the 1960s and 1970s? Should they be demolished, reconstructed or forgotten?

• In his book Form Follows Fiasco, the architecture historian Peter Blake says that historic buildings (e.g. railway stations, breweries and courthouses) are often better suited for new functions – re- purposed as modern libraries, universities, museums, concert halls and theatres – and that their atmosphere makes them even more suitable than contemporary buildings designed for this specific purpose, as the rational pragmatism of the latter may fail to connect with people. In the context of Estonia, a parallel can be drawn with the re-purposing of manor houses. Can this argument be extended to the modernist heritage of the Soviet era?

• The modernist heritage of the Soviet era here applies to the administrative buildings of grandiose kolkhoz centres in currently rather quiet communities. Would a type analysis of the buildings be help- ful in finding new functions for them? Would there be enough users locally for such buildings or does the solution lie in developing internal tourism?

• The typical construction materials used for kolkhoz buildings were red bricks, silicate bricks and concrete. The buildings were mostly abandoned around the beginning of the 21st century and have been vacant for approximately 10 years. Would it be profitable to restore or alter these buildings?

• Whose responsibility is it to look for solutions and coordinate activity: local governments, the state, developers, voluntary citizens’ associations or local communities?

• Because of its central location in Tallinn, the Linnahall meets every conceivable requirement to be put to use, and yet it is still vacant. There have been grandiose plans to remodel it into an opera house, conference centre or entertainment centre, which

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 138 would require significant architectural alterations. Where does preservation end and reconstruction begin?

The following overview of the expert panel discussion (1 June 2012)159 forms the basis of my critical analysis and opinions on what could be done about this deteriorating modernist heritage.160

As a starting point, it is good to know that the recently completed programme initiated by the Ministry of Culture and the National Heritage Board for valuable Estonian 20th century architecture (1870–1991) makes it possible to chart and document valuable architecture from the past century within Estonian counties and larger cities; the National Heritage Board can use expert opinions to determine the prospects for these buildings. The temporal focus of the programme is defined as follows: the insufficiently conserved end of the 19th century, then the bright first republic, then the Soviet Stalinist era, followed by contemporary architecture up until 1991.161 The buildings charted within this programme are valuable not only because of their architectural or physical properties, but also because of the different semantic fields that they have absorbed over time, i.e. cultural strata in a broader sense, containing crucial cultural cross-sections.162 In order for these buildings to survive, they need to be assigned functions and investments need to be made. Spending a minimum amount of money to temporarily ‘hibernate’ and conserve such prominent buildings would send a signal to local self-governments that these valuable buildings should not be demolished. In this way, they would survive for much longer and any decisions would not be dependent on the current financial situation of the state. It would also send a signal to future generations: these are valuable and enjoyable environments.163 Administrative divisions have repeatedly shifted over the past century: if an

159 The experts: Yoko Alender (Advisor on Architecture at the Ministry of Culture), Jaak Huimerind (expert for the program for charting and analyzing valuable 20th century architecture from 1870–1991), Krista Kodres (art historian), Peeter Pere (chairman of the Union of Estonian Architects), Margit Mutso (editor of architecture for the cultural newspaper Sirp), Endrik Mänd (City of Tallinn chief architect), Tiit Nurklik (civil engineer), Toomas Tammis (Dean of the Faculty of Architecture at the Estonian Academy of Arts), Urmo Vaikla (interior architect and team leader of the Estonian exhibition at the 13th Venice Biennale of Architecture) and Kalle Vellevoog (Vice-President of the Union of Estonian Architects). 160 T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion: How Long is the Life of a Building? – Kui pikk on ühe maja elu? / How Long is the Life of a Building? Ed. T.-K. Vaikla. Tallinn: Eesti Arhitektuurikeskus, 2012, pp. 179–187. 161 XX sajandi arhitektuuri inventeerimine. Muinsuskaitseamet, http://muinas.ee/muinsuskaitsete- gevus/projektid/arhitektuuri-inventeerimine (accessed 21 April 2017). 162 Krista Kodres at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, pp. 179–180). 163 Margit Mutso at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 180).

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 139 example of Soviet modernist architecture was erected in what is now a peripheral area, the building is impossible to conserve. This has to do with peripheralisation and uneven regional development. In the Soviet times, the reduction of differences between life in the city and in the countryside was part of the political programme of the Communist Party. If, on the other hand, such a building is located in an active area, nowadays there is usually a completely new building put up right next to it using money from Enterprise Estonia, even though the existing modernist heritage site could have been restored instead.164

One of the most important motivators of architecture is the need for spatial organisation. Different time periods have their own reasons and these reasons are constantly changing. The economic, cultural and social reasons behind the construction of these buildings in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s have ceased to exist. The fact that our current era is relatively liberal means that there is also greater potential for these buildings to be put back to use.165 A complete change of function is also a viable option, as currently seen in Europe and all around the world: old churches are being re-purposed as private residences on the condition that the exterior is conserved and only the interior is adapted. In order for a building to be conserved, there should be as few restrictions placed on its new function as possible. Nationalised manor houses were utilised in the 1920s and 1930s, and even more so after the war, when they were turned into retirement homes or schools, and these functions have preserved the houses in one way or another.166 This is a complete re-branding and adjustment to modern requirements. In order for us to have any kind of relationship with these buildings, image transformations and total makeovers such as these should be undertaken constantly. This is a matter of the social life of these buildings: they are only valuable if they have meanings that are considered significant in our era; those causal relationships have to exist.167

We cannot act freely, because from the perspective of heritage conservation, examples of both typical architecture and valuable highlights of each time period must be preserved in their entirety in the hope that their new users will find their own connections, some sort of participation in the building in an entirely different way (as the state does not have enough resources). If we are protecting

164 Kalle Vellevoog at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 181). 165 Toomas Tammis at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 180). 166 Tiit Nurklik at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 181). 167 Andres Kurg at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p 182).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 140 architecture and architecture is form, then it should be kept in mind that this architecture will cease to exist once restrictions are eased. Each individual case has its own inner logic and any action needs to be very flexible. The essence of preservation is that this one specific form has absorbed something over time that we value: the work of the architect, as well as the culture and all other contexts that it carries.168 There are too many Soviet-era buildings still around for us to value them in the way that we value classic cars, for example. One of the Linnahall’s exceptional charms is what it has turned into: an oasis, a time capsule that speaks to us of different principles of logic, of how buildings used to be erected and space created, and what this meant for people. The main principle of contemporary conservation is to do as little as possible and as much as is absolutely necessary, and to avoid over-investing. Soviet-era buildings originate in a different country altogether, and the interruption that happened between the two eras makes them museum pieces worth conserving.169 The negative aura of Soviet architecture is starting to disappear, and for young people it is already history; it is foreign to them and thus also interesting.170

This issue is not so much a matter of heritage conservation as a question of how these buildings could be brought to life, who should be in charge of this, and where to find the synergy and will that would lead to finding the means.

Concerning buildings, the problem lies in the way ownership relates to function. Private property is practically impossible to demolish, which means that heritage objects are best protected when they are privately owned. Re-purposing a building and assigning it a new function is a very complex modelling task, as each object is special. Different approaches and solutions must be applied based on location and other conditions that affect the entire process.171

A building that is constantly in use is very rarely perceived as something of value. It was part of the futurist programme that every generation needed to build its own architecture and buildings should be constructed to last 25 years. After that, new architects could again demonstrate their creative abilities and the cycle would continue. Modernism adopted that idea: the concrete panel districts of Mustamäe and Lasnamäe were built with a relatively short

168 Kodres at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 182). 169 Kodres at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 183). 170 Yoko Alender at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 186). 171 Kodres at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 185).

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 141 lifespan in mind. It would be very complicated, if not impossible, to design a building intended to be altered endlessly. Buildings are designed according to the specific needs of the time. Any attempts at designing a building that could be altered in every way imagi- nable and that could be used for very different purposes would be futile, because there are no criteria to follow, no target to achieve. Buildings are more likely to be re-purposed if one of their dimensions – height, width, cubic measure or floor space – is larger than normally required; this makes it possible to reuse them for some other purpose. Old factories can be re-purposed as office buildings, but not vice versa. One of the few sustainable functions that can prolong a building’s life is living space. If its use is not inter- rupted, there’s no need for any massive reconstruction requiring large investments. Surplus that has come about by accident can be reused, but it is impossible to plan it out in advance, because nobody would pay for it.172

Modernism, however, tends to be more of an elitist trend that the public at large has yet to recognise.173 Architecture always takes place in the present. People cannot appreciate something if they are not aware of what makes things valuable, and it will not occur to them spontaneously. This cannot be done using only the written word: it has to be shown to people.174 One interesting, but economically non-feasible idea would be to create a modernist version of an open-air museum.175

Some fundamental insights were revealed in the course of the discussion: on the governmental level, the value of an existing built environment is recognised and the cultural strata and semantic fields manifested in the form of architecture are appreciated. Valu- able architecture is charted and efforts are made to discover its physical state. In order to find a modern use for a building, it needs to be reinterpreted, leading to a new purpose and a new owner. The process of reviving buildings also entails questions of limita- tions and liberty.

172 Tammis, at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, pp. 185–186). 173 Alender at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 186). 174 Kodres at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 186). 175 Nurklik at the round-table discussion. (T.-K. Vaikla, Round-table Discussion, p. 182).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 142 Fig 67: The Linnahall in the 1980s (source: Museum of Estonian Architecture).

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 143 5.2 THE LIFE OF THE LINNAHALL CONCERT HALL

In this section, I provide a brief overview of the colourful life of the Linnahall, initially called the Tallinn V. I. Lenin Palace of Culture and Sport, from its heyday up until its deterioration – all in the course of 30 years – in order to illustrate the changes that have taken place in political life. The Linnahall Concert Hall and Ice Hall was designed by the state design bureau Eesti Tööstusprojekt (Estonian Industrial Design) in 1975–1976 (architects Raine Karp and Riina Altmäe, structural engineer Ado Kuddu, interior architects Ülo Sirp and Mari-Ann Hakk). The concert hall was completed by 1980, in time for the Moscow Olympic Games Tallinn regatta, with the ice hall opened a year later. The head architect, Raine Karp, was interested in the use of limestone on facades and as a finishing material; some of his other large projects using this same material are the Tallinn Main Post Office (1980), the Sakala Centre (1985), and the National Library of Estonia (1985–1993). The Lin- nahall is described as a ‘modernist and individualist colossus’,176 and is situated between the Old Town and the sea, on an axis with the Viru hotel. The roof of the building can be walked across and it acted as a railway overpass, reconnecting the city with the sea, which had been monopolized by military and industrial facilities. The shore area was cleared of temporary structures to make room for the massive structure, based on orders from Moscow that each Soviet republic should have a 6000-seat sports hall in its capital. Construction and planning were carried out simultaneously, and the result was a 5000-seat concert, exhibition, dance and bowling hall in the shape of an amphitheatre. Later a 3000-seat ice hall was added, featuring an ice rink open to the public. The building was officially inaugurated at a ceremony marking the 40th anniversary of the Estonian SSR. The Linnahall hosted a large number of extremely varied events, from circus performances to evangelical meetings. Besides the Moscow Ballet and Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra, audiences could enjoy Chinese opera, folk art ensembles from Ghana and the Philippines, and Cuban variety shows. Many legendary world musicians (somewhat belatedly) found their way to the Linnahall: Uriah Heep, Bonnie Tyler, Suzi Quatro, Boney M, Demis Roussos, Duran Duran, Nazareth etc. Over half a million people visited the concert hall each year. The Linnahall was awarded the Grand Prix at the Interarch biennial of the Interna- tional Union of Architects in 1983, and a Soviet Union state award

176 M. Kalm, Eesti 20. sajandi arhitektuur, p. 309.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 144 in 1984. The stage curtain of its concert hall (10m x 50m, weight 1.5 tons) was considered to be the world’s largest tapestry (designed by the Estonian artist Enn Põldroos, 1985).177

After Estonia regained its independence, the building was officially renamed the Tallinna Linnahall / Linnahall Concert Hall (1991). Immediately before this, the building hosted various gatherings of the Singing Revolution, held under red (Soviet), as well as blue, black and white (Estonian) flags. In the mid-1990s, new uses were sought for the structure and the part of the building closest to the sea became a hydrofoil terminal. In 1997, on the initiative of Doc- omomo (the International Working Party for Documentation and Conservation of Buildings, Sites and Neighborhoods of the Modern Movement), the Linnahall was placed under heritage protection as an object of architectural heritage. The building was in need of renovation: the roof of the ice hall was leaking, lighting and electrical equipment and the cooling devices of the ice hall, together with 120 km of piping, needed to be replaced, and roughly one half of all rental space remained vacant. A helipad and helicopter terminal (architect Peep Urb, 1999) were built on the roof of the Linnahall, cutting off access to the sea via the stairs. The seaside cafe, which had previously been used as a discotheque, was shut down. Efforts were made to find ways to make the Linnahall economically viable; ideas included putting tennis courts with windscreens on the roof of the building, reconstructing the hall so that standing tickets could be sold for concerts, adapting the stage for ball games, and turning the structure into a conference centre and science park in cooperation with the European Union. An engineering inspection carried out in 1999 confirmed that the core structures of the Lin- nahall were strong and that reconstruction was possible. At that time, the building was home to a number of tenants: a hydrofoil terminal, a helipad, a music store, a children’s sports school, a judo club, a bowling alley, storerooms of the city archives, a recording studio, company offices, warehouses and workshops. In 2000, the Linnahall only hosted 70 events. With support from the city government, in 2001 a new 10,000-seat arena, Saku Suurhall, was built on the outskirts of the city, next to a hypermarket. An expert opinion obtained from its main contractor proclaimed the Linnahall to have no future prospects. Once the new arena was completed in time for the Eurovision Song Contest (2002), the Linnahall was closed down. The city government had several ideas for its future: to sell it as it

177 P. Lindpere, Chronology of the Linnahall’s Biography. – Kui pikk on ühe maja elu /How Long is the Life of a Building? Ed. T.-K. Vaikla. Tallinn: Eesti Arhitektuurikeskus, pp. 204–207.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 145 was, to spend tens of millions of kroons on its demolition and sell the plot, or to start subsidizing its use. Docomomo’s178 expert opinion blocked the city government’s motion to remove the Linnahall from the list of heritage objects: as a prominent example of Esto- nia’s 20th century architecture, the Linnahall warranted being conserved as a concept. According to an expert assessment carried out by the Tallinn University of Technology (2003), the structure of the building had no significant damage. The Linnahall’s management attempted to find possible solutions and save the concert hall by organising an architectural competition (2002). Plans submitted for the competition involved turning the Linnahall into a conference centre and complementing it with businesses, hotels or residential buildings, and stressed the feasibility of continuing to develop the Linnahall rather than tearing it down. The city government perceived the possible sale of the Linnahall as the greatest source of revenue for its development budget (2003). In their minds, this was an entertainment centre or an exclusive residential district with a marina just waiting for an investor. Buyers only showed interest on the condition that the Linnahall could be demolished, which the Union of Estonian Architects opposed. It had also been established by the special conditions of the National Heritage Board that the functional and technological modernisation of the Linnahall was possible without altering its most valuable elements: the unique amphitheatre-shaped concert arena and bastion-style exterior. Con- cessions could be made regarding the trestle, the stairs and the ice hall. This was followed by discussions on the planning of adjoining lots in case the Linnahall was preserved. An architectural competition was held and the winning entry called for breaking up the area by constructing buildings with very diverse exteriors, as well as building a marina with room for 100 yachts, complete with a yacht club. Proceeding from the results of the competition, a detailed plan was adopted for the adjacent immovable properties, making it possible for a marina, a shoreline promenade, service and commercial space, and residential buildings to be constructed next to the Linnahall (2008). In 2009, the city government signed a preliminary agreement with a U.S. company to convert the Linnahall and its immediate surroundings into a cultural and conference centre; in the optimism of the moment, it was even promised that the Lin- nahall would be renovated in time for Tallinn’s year as the cultural capital of Europe (2011). In phase one, the concert hall would be renovated, and a hotel, recreational centre and the first stage of

178 An international non-profit organisation for Documentation and Conservation of Building, Sites and Neighbourhoods of the Modern Movement.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 146 a fair and conference centre would be constructed, along with a restaurant and approximately 3000 parking spots; city transport lines would be added between the port terminals and the centres under development. In phase two, a harbour (or a marina) would be added and the fair and conference centre and hotel would be expanded; all expenses would be borne by the private developer. The completely depreciated ice hall was closed down. The final official event held at the Linnahall was an annual exhibition of nature photography (2009); the activities of the Linnahall were then terminated. An audit determined that the assets of the Linnahall consisted of the oversized tapestry of the concert hall and nothing else. The financial plan did not come to fruition.179

The Linnahall retained seven employees to handle the elementary maintenance of the building (it is heated just enough to maintain a temperature above zero) and rental issues. The city government also discussed the possibility of a joint financing plan with the Minister of Finance, suggesting that both the government and the city provide surety for a major U.S. investor. Inquiries and background checks led the Ministry of Finance to state that the entire plan was a dubious financial scheme on the part of the Tallinn city government, aimed at using the state as a guarantor and taking out another loan for the city. In 2011, the head of the Estonian National Opera suggested that the Linnahall could be reconstructed into an opera house and that this project could be completed by the 100th anniversary of the Republic of Estonia in 2018. In 2012, simultaneously with the Estonian exhibition in Venice, the giant monolith of the Linnahall was cleaned of graffiti, as the city was expecting the arrival of U.S. investors.

Over the years, the head architect of the Linnahall, Raine Karp, has maintained cooperation with possible developers and has worked on the draft plans of heritage reconstruction. He is, naturally, interested in bringing the building back to life and finding a compromise solution for its modernisation. Various events have taken place in the Linnahall: the curator of the Manifesta art biennial has expressed interest in it and the Tallinn Architecture Biennial has used it as an exhibition space (2013): people are constantly trying to visit the closed down building. Ingel Vaikla featured the Linnahall’s security guard Peeter in her documentary The House Guard. In her master’s thesis, Sema Aksu suggests that a lightweight amphitheatre should be constructed on top of the existing structure; this positive form would

179 P. Lindpere, Chronology of the Linnahall’s Biography, pp. 204–207.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 147 serve as a seasonal solution.180 The anthropologist Francisco Mar- tínez analyzes the nature of Linnahall as a piece of utopian architecture from the perspective of modern-day users.181 The anthropologist Francisco Martínez has analysed the nature of the Linnahall as a piece of utopian architecture from the perspective of modern-day users. In recent news, the city government announced that according to an engineering inspection, the load bearing structures of the Lin- nahall are in good enough shape for the building to be restored in its original form. In order to create natural-sounding acoustics in this soon-to-be largest concert hall in all of northern and eastern Europe, all stage equipment will be replaced with world-class products. A number of smaller conference halls will be added as well. Financ- ing for the project is supposed to come from selling the ice hall and the part of the plot closest to the sea.182 The website created for the Venice exhibition continues to follow and report current developments and news articles concerning the Linnahall.183

180 S. Aksu, Sotsiaalne sekkumine: Linnahalli tagasinõudmine / Reclaiming Linnahall: a Social Intervention, 2016. Master thesis. Tallinn University of Technology/Estonian Academy of Arts. Design and Engineering, department of Machinery, 2016, http://design-engineering.ee/PDF/ Thesis_Sema_Aksu.pdf/ (accessed 28 March 2017). 181 F. Martinez, Wasted Legacies? Youth, Repair and Obsolescence after Socialism. London: UCL Press, 2017. (Forthcoming), p. 93–112. 182 Delfi videod ja fotod: Linnahalli tuleb plaani järgi tõeliselt moodsa tehnikaga saal ja konverentsikeskus, rõhku pannakse ka nostalgiale. Delfi news, 19 June 2016, http://www.delfi.ee/news/ paevauudised/eesti/delfi-videod-ja-fotod-linnahalli-tuleb-plaani-jargi-toeliselt-moodsa-tehnikaga- saal-ja-konverentsikeskus-rohku-pannakse-ka-nostalgiale?id=74845261 (accessed 19 June 2016). 183 How Long is the LIfe of a Building? facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/HowLongIs- TheLifeOfABuilding/? (accessed 8 November 2016).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 148 Fig 68a: Photos of the abandoned Linnahall for the exhibition catalogue How Long is the Life of a Building? for the Venice Biennale, 2012 by Ingel Vaikla.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 149 Fig 68a: Photos of the abandoned Linnahall for the exhibition catalogue How Long is the Life of a Building? for the Venice Biennale, 2012 by Ingel Vaikla.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 150 Fig 68a: Photos of the abandoned Linnahall for the exhibition catalogue How Long is the Life of a Building? for the Venice Biennale, 2012 by Ingel Vaikla.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 151 5.3 EXHIBITION PROJECT HOW LONG IS THE LIFE OF A BUILDING? 13TH VENICE ARCHITECTURE BIENNALE, 29 AUGUST – 25 NOVEMBER 2012

People are taking more and more interest in city space and their spatial environment as a whole, seeing it as an active, living and breathing communicative environment. Trends can be observed in people’s choice of living environment: rather than the physical aesthetics of a building, their choice is now determined by the urban space between the buildings, its potential being something that they can relate to. The subject of shared space was also the topic of the interactive architectural exhibition at the Venice Biennale of Architecture (2012). ‘Architec- ture nowadays is not necessarily based upon architectural drawings or models, architecture studios can be much more diverse. A conventional awareness of architectural work will inevitably bring about a limited understanding of the education and practice taken by an architect. The spectrum of architectural work should include all built environments related to our everyday life; that is, architecture should be understood as the labour of those focused on human surroundings. The interpretation and questions exhibited in Venice, resulting from the notion of “common ground”, did indeed focus on the human.’184

The curator of the 13th Venice Architecture Biennale, the British architect David Chipperfield encouraged participants to relate to other authors and their works in the usual way, as well as provocatively, as reflected by the exhibition title Common Ground. The Venice Biennale was an excellent opportunity for Estonia to have its say on currently influential topics in the world of architecture. Together with my co-authors,185 and also in connection with the topic of my dissertation, I explored the issue of re-purposing buildings in the sense of expanding modernist heritage objects, using the Linnahall as an example. The prior experience of organising a site-specific exhibition project in the abandoned Pärnu Mud Baths inspired me to reflect on this building’s current life as well as its former users. We also sought to reach out to people: the city architect at that time (Dmitri Bruns) and the head architect (Raine Karp) and interior architect (Ülo Sirp) of the Linnahall, who told us about how the Linna- hall came to be and helped us to understand the zeitgeist of the Moscow Olympics era (1980). Their personal stories, hopes and memories made it to the exhibition in Venice in the form of a documentary chronicling the sad state that the abandoned building is in today. The exhibition

184 Han, Eun Ju, The Fundamental Questions of Architecture. – Space 2012, no. 539 (October), p. 7. 185 Co-authors: Urmo Vaikla, Ingel Vaikla, Veronika Valk, Ivar Lubjak, Maria Pukk.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 152 catalogue186 was based on essays and articles written by reputable think- ers from a variety of fields: the lecturer in Japanese Studies Alari Allik, the author Tõnu Õnnepalu, the architectural conservationist Maris Suits, the architecture and art theorists Andres Kurg, Triin Ojari, Eero Epner and Harry Liivrand and others. It included new visual material, as well as archive materials, the results of a workshop held by current students, and an overview of the colourful history of the Linnahall. The Estonian exhibition in Venice addressed the topic of time and space, the fact that both significant and insignificant locations have been abandoned, but also the changes and opportunities that the future may bring, posing the question: How long is the life of a building? This is still a relevant question that concerns architectural heritage all over the world, manifesting itself in more and less conspicuous phenomena. The exhibition project housed in the Venetian Arsenale set out to analyse whether the primary cause of the Linnahall’s abandonment was the ageing of its materials and equipment, or whether it is possible that people never really loved Soviet- era modernist architecture, preferring more romantic historical buildings or the more emotive and organic features of contemporary architecture with more of a focus on human, ecological and cultural aspects.

Fig 69: Venice Architecture Biennale Common Ground, 2012.

During the preparation for the exhibition, I contacted as many different people as possible to act as narrators who would talk and write about architecture; to do this, I focused on the context surrounding this building. This approach is similar to the one I used in my previous case analysis. The result was a plurality of opinions from local people, whom I view as the future users of the Linnahall to a greater or lesser degree, reflecting their personal and individual attitudes towards the many ways that the process of reviving the building manifests itself. To gain a broad perspective, interviews with both young and old people rep- resenting various professions were recorded; the topics of discussion

186 Kui pikk on ühe maja elu? / How Long is the Life of a Building? Ed. T.-K. Vaikla. Tallinn: Eesti Arhitektuurikeskus, 2012.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 153 included the lifespan of architecture, its abandonment, potential and identity. Because the fate of symbolic architecture is one of the pain- ful issues of our time, I prepared the exhibition catalogue in two lan- guages, seeking to advance the discussion and documentation of this issue not only in Venice, but also in Estonia. The exhibition focused on the Linnahall as an example of massive (post)modernist architecture in the capital of Estonia, providing a chronological overview of its legendary past and, for context, its analogues. The results of a student workshop to discuss the possible futures of the Linnahall (supervisors V. Valk, I. Lubjak and M. Pukk) were also included in the exhibition catalogue.187 One of the more appealing ideas that emerged in the modelling process was the proposal to ‘hibernate’ and conserve the building, thus ensuring its preservation until it was put back into use.

Fig 70: Floor plans of the Linnahall (source: private archive of architect Raine Karp).

187 M. Pukk, I. Lubjak, V. Valk. Dream. Sense. Adapt. Feed. 5 Visions for Linnahall. – Kui pikk on ühe maja elu? pp. 208–217.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 154 Fig 71: Estonian exhibition for the 13th Architecture Biennale How Long is the Life of a Building?

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CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 155 Fig 73: Estonian exhibition for the 13th Architecture Biennale How Long is the Life of a Building? Venice 2012.

The Linnahall as a Memory Container: for the Biennale, we translated this drastic state of abandonment into a poetic visual language by contrasting its initially official and monumental range of uses with the recent spontaneous uses, thereby helping viewers to recognise and relate to similar phenomena in their own urban and cultural spaces. People also use it as public space, to enjoy the seaview, sunrise or fireworks, or simply to have a good time; the building is well suited for this because of its architecture, as well as its location in the city.

Fig 74: Preparing the exhibition, Venice, Arsenale, 2012.

The exhibition design helped to focus on how one can convey memories that have accumulated over several generations. The aim of the exhibition was to discover and emphasise the attitude towards the historical essence of the building using people’s real- life stories, and to create a narrative for the viewer, giving the space a personality. The abandoned space was presented as a source of inspiration, building a connection between the real and illusory to elicit a personal emotional effect. The exhibition was a test site, used to present a selection of documentation concerning the memory of place. The building was presented in a slow-paced film documenting the space (Urmo Vaikla,), as well as in short films telling

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 156 people’s personal stories (Jaan Tootsen)188 (see Appendix, Exhibition Review 2). Some authentic pieces of interior details from the Lin- nahall also made their way to Venice: a flashing digital wall clock, soft leather couches and a wall of mirrors. This helped us to recre- ate the physical reality, allowing the audience to sense and smell the long-gone 1980s. The films were projected onto the end wall of a dark room, and reflecting mirrors were placed on the opposite wall to create an optically larger, slightly poetic space. This allowed the visitors to feel as though they were present at the abandoned building, sitting on the old leather couch, following the camera through the dilapidated rooms of the deserted Linnahall and listening to people’s personal stories. In his analysis of the exhibition, the architectural theorist David Crowley emotionally declared that anyone was likely to experience a frisson at the Venice exhibition, recognising that this structure represented the decline of what was once a large utopian system.189 A structure that could so easily have been presented as a symbol of the failure of Soviet socialism was instead presented as a series of snapshots from the rich history of Estonia, Crowley noted in his article juxtaposing the German and Estonian exhibitions at the Biennale, both addressing the decline of modernist heritage objects. 190

Fig 75: Arsenale, Venice 2012.

Working on the exhibition, I became especially aware of two ways that the Linnahall building is special: its reviving effect on the harbour area and the entire city space of Tallinn upon its completion, and its significance for the young city dwellers of this century, for whom the Linna- hall and its roof that can be walked across are part of the fascinating

188 An interview with Linnahall’s head architect Raine Karp had also been recorded, but in line with the theme of the biennale (Common Ground), only simple and personal stories told from the perspective of users were presented, allowing the visitors to identify with the material. 189 D. Crowley, Surnuist üles äratamine – Linnahall Veneetsia Arhitektuuribiennaalil / Reviving the Dead – the Linnahall at the Venice Architecture Biennale. – Maja 2012, no. 73 (3), pp. 60–63. 190 D. Crowley, Overview: Looking for the Common Ground. – Space 2012, No 539 (October), p. 68.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 157 urban landscape. I examined the Linnahall as a physical, mental and social space. The idea of the Venice exhibition was to use a physical experience of space in the immediate environment to depict the Lin- nahall’s unique architecture and its emotional role; this technique has rarely been used before at Estonian exhibitions in Venice. The question at the centre of the Estonian exhibition – How long is the life of a building? – was also addressed by another similarly themed exhibition: a re-creation of community life in the world’s tallest squat, a 45-storey skyscraper in Caracas, Venezuela, called Torre David, a building abandoned before its completion and turned into a vertical slum. This exhibition was awarded the Grand Prix of the Biennale. It is my position and also a common practice in the modern world of art that an exhibition should pose a problem, but to present a solution to this problem within the context of the very same exhibition would be too simple (instead, an ambivalent reaction is expected). The student workshop, however, came up with many innovative solutions for the Linnahall’s revival, also reflecting on unanswered questions, uncomfortable generalisations and ghosts of similar phenomena. As is customary for workshops, the students’ concepts were treated as playful visions, one-time ideas with absolutely no chance of constituting real solutions.

Fig 76a: Estonian exhibition for the 13th Architecture Biennale How Long is the Life of a Building? Venice 2012.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 158 Fig 76b: Estonian exhibition for the 13th Architecture Biennale How Long is the Life of a Building? Venice 2012.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 159 5.4 CONCLUSIONS

Potential, opportunity, solutions: how should modernist heritage of the Soviet era be treated today? Abandoned modernist landmarks provide an identity for small Estonian communities. These landmarks are forgotten, but they are not invisible. The once innovative and timeless buildings are still standing as empty shells, exuding a certain negative aura and signalling a waste of spatial potential. While Riegl prefers the constant change of an ageing heritage object to its immaculate conservation,191 the charming effect of a sweetly nostalgic modernist ruin is only momentary: it is not romantic, as ruins usually are. Heritage too has its ebb and flow. In the contemporary sense, heritage is at once a part of our physical reality, as well as a mental phenomenon. Heritage connects people to each other as well as to their environment, in a material sense but also with regard to natural aspects; heritage acts as the groundwork for re-creating heritage again and again, instilling it with important layers of meaning: this is how the functioning of society is shaped.192 There is a shift towards the inclusion of people that surround these heritage objects. Still, people have their own personal associations and mental images in connection with these buildings; these associations act as a bridge between the past and the future. Buildings that symbolise the history of an occupying regime are also linked to personal stories that constitute our micro-history, and therefore matter. Besides, it is likely that today’s youth will continue to be interested in viewing these buildings with curiosity, as a clean slate, and will be able to do so. This is also an act of protest against modern high-technology solutions rooted in anonymity (although it is true that Soviet-era modernism was also perceived that way at the time). There is definitely a great potential for the interaction between inside and outside to bring contemporary people to meet here (referring to Sejima).

The possibility of placing modernist heritage objects under heritage protection as immovable monuments is seen as beneficial not only by those who value architecture, but also by pragmatists. The Heritage Conservation Act protects the authentic structural substance of architectural objects and makes it possible to ignore modern requirements of energy efficiency, thus simplifying their restoration and reconstruction to a notable degree. The National Heritage Board has also displayed flexibility and willingness to

191 A. Riegl, The Modern Culture of Monuments, 1996, pp. 69–83. 192 K. Konsa, Tänapäevane konserveerimine. Lecture.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 160 cooperate with the owners and architects of a building when it comes to preparing their special conditions, and acting in the interest of the building’s new intended function. Another question to be asked is: how can we preserve the material and cognitive value and emotional charge of a building?

What can we do? On a purely spatial level, it is possible to adapt former kolkhoz buildings to serve as modern multifunctional schools, office buildings, libraries, spas or any other type of public buildings that require division into separate offices, but only as a way of playing with space or an exercise. Today, we need to address actual needs and be able to expand our thinking, so as to intervene in ways that are likely to put new trends into motion. As a result of socio-economic changes, there are no production units left in small communities, meaning that there are also no people to use the buildings. The birth of local synergy depends on visions, visionaries and, of course, the local populace. This is illustrated by examples of gentrification in Tal- linn, Tartu, Pärnu and other cities of Estonia with larger populations, i.e. larger numbers of possible users.

If a new function is not found, then what are the alternatives? In the Western world, abandoned buildings are becoming an everyday feature of the modern urban space, characterised by emptiness. This makes me lean in favour of architects who come up with innovative visions for the future, even if it means that parts of a historic building have to be demolished. How much time do we have? We should stay conservative while we wait for better times. Perhaps it is also possible that too much of the modernist heritage is still there and the time is not ripe for changes. While we wait for a better time, local communities should be in charge of protecting these buildings from falling into ruin, even if this is done only by means of ‘hibernation’. Alter- natively, we could simply come to terms with the inevitable, break these buildings down into crushed stone, and use this stone to build harbours and roads with brighter futures. There are certainly contradictory choices possible, based on the local context of each building. A dignified building deserves to end its existence in dignity; this is also something to consider, as noted by Crowley in his analysis.193

The aim of the exhibition project How Long is the Life of a Building? was to analyse the possibilities of re-purposing abandoned modernist buildings, with special consideration given to the human perspective: the way people interpret architecturally magnificent buildings

193 D. Crowley, Surnuist üles äratamine, p. 60.

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 161 with Soviet-era identities. With this project, we took a look at the out- lines of the physical preservation and public value of architecture, leaving aside the fact that cultural heritage is in a perpetual state of change. At the Venice Biennale of Architecture, the case of the Linna- hall was presented by means of a film documenting the dilapidation of this (post)modernist building, along with emotional stories told by its users. Besides the abandoned Linnahall, the bilingual exhibition catalogue also focused on the crumbling modernist heritage of kolkhoz buildings, observing the many facets of abandonment. By raising this issue, we continued a public discussion on the preservation of Estonia’s modernist heritage as part of the Biennale’s shared platform under the theme Common Ground. Public discussions were held on the topics of reasonable design, planning, construction and use of buildings: in brief, on how to reinterpret and revive a building, and prolong its lifespan. Both architectural specialists and the public were involved in the discussion, as illustrated by media interest in both the Venice exhibition and the Linnahall itself. Estonian Television broadcast programmes on the Linnahall both before and after the opening of the Biennale. After the opening, a flash lecture and presentation of the exhibition catalogue How Long is the Life of a Building? was held at the Center of Architecture in Tallinn. The architects of the Linnahall and the authors who had written essays for the catalogue gave talks in the auditorium of the then-vacant modernist Kosmos cinema. All in all, the exhibition project at the Estonian pavilion affirmed the understanding that the conservation of the Linnahall is important not only objectively, but also according to the subjective criteria of the residents of Tallinn as its users, considering the cognitive aspects of the building and the connection of memory with the experience of space, not just being aware of the space. The project also contributed to a positive shift in the Linnahall’s image in the public eye.

On reviving the Linnahall: the passage of time has created a suitable temporal distance for people to relate to the monumental building of the Linnahall regardless of their memories of the Soviet regime. Nowadays, the Linnahall is seen more as a part of Tallinn’s identity that offers a great opportunity for people to enjoy both the sea and the city. This building is meaningful to people and they value its place in the urban landscape, as well as its role in their personal life experience. It offers a unique opportunity to ascend the limestone stairs, walk across the roof of the building, and arrive at the sea, where one is free to enjoy a sunset or sunrise. In this way, not only people who have purchased a ticket for a cultural event can use the building, but anyone at all: residents of the city and visitors.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 162 When assigning the building a modern use, it is important that the dominant part of the existing structure should be conserved, only expanding the part housing the ice hall if necessary. Looking to the future, it is essential that the owner (either the city government or the developer) should cooperate with architects, engineers and the National Heritage Board on a professional level, keeping in mind the spatial integrity of the environment. It is important that, in addition to the values listed in the special conditions of the National Herit- age Board, the space should retain its cognitive and phenomenal essence. Modern times have not seen the rise of a similar multifunctional concert and event venue that could serve as an alternative to the Linnahall. This is why the city government has set its course towards creating a natural-sounding acoustic environment in the Linnahall and turning it into the largest concert hall in Eastern Europe; their current position is that the building should be restored to its original condition, with the addition of modern integrated equipment. A new solution will be developed for the structure of the former ice hall and, for more functionality, a conference centre will be added.194

194 On the developments concerning Linnahall 2012–2016 see the Facebook page https://www. facebook.com/HowLongIsTheLifeOfABuilding/?fref=ts/ (accessed 8 November 2016).

CASE II – Tallinn Linnahall Concert Hall 163

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church

What captivated me about the Paluküla church on the small island of Hiiumaa off the west coast of Estonia was the way its pompous Gothic Revival architecture contrasted with the dilapidated Soviet-era industrial landscape that surrounds it. My personal interest was also inspired by my family story. My research question is about the tangible and intangible spatial values of an abandoned building and how to create dynamic interaction between contemporary users’ expectations and needs in historical buildings. The practice-based research investigates, on the basis of the Paluküla church case study, the activation of space and forms of spatial intervention tactics, focusing on physical space parallel to the mental and social strata of space, and on phenomenological knowledge of techniques for rethinking derelict sacral buildings.

 Fig 77: Paluküla Church, Hiiumaa island 2013. 165 Fig 78: The location of the Paluküla church, Hiiumaa island.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 166 6.1 RE-PURPOSING THE PAST

The slow but constant change of a spatial environment is a natural process and one that is interesting to observe, relate to, or – where possible – get involved in. Demographic processes—immigration and emigration – induced by changes in politics can bring about the revival of a place or cause it to become extinct. How are these phenomena reflected in architecture and space? At the most recent international art exhibition, the 56th Venice Biennale (2015), the pavilion of Iceland presented an interesting shift in cultural space with their exhibition The Mosque: The First Mosque in the Historic City of Venice (curator Nína Magnúsdóttir, artist Christoph Büchel). Since 1969, the church had been used both as a sports hall and a warehouse. Here the artist activated the derelict religious building with his controversial project. A mosque was presented as an art project in an ancient 10th- century Catholic church of the Cannaregio district. The artist initiated a discussion on re-purposing the past by focusing on a religious building, with his exhibition engaging thousands of Muslim residents, as well as welcoming Muslim tourists of traditional Catholic Venice. The artists’ project at the Venice Biennale got lots of attention for how it reflected on the evolution of holy spaces and what effect that had on people’s behaviour. The approach is closely related to my research questions about the interaction of old buildings with contemporary users in the re-purposing process and also about the architectural and spatial values of buildings.

In Soviet Estonia, many churches were turned into barns for farm animals, sports halls, workshops and warehouses. The regime cul- tivated atheism, opposing religion and churches, which it saw as strongholds of stagnation. Most of these buildings have now been returned to their congregations and have been restored, yet the number of churchgoers remains low. In many countries congregations are disappearing; abandoned churches are remodelled for other purposes and used as elegant homes, restaurants, offices, kindergartens, boutiques, nightclubs etc. Modern people have grown apart from religion: their search for values is motivated by more pragmatic considerations and their concept of sanctity has become vague.

The aim of this project was to use an abandoned church as a laboratory, in which to create different experiences of space and to analyse new meanings of space based on human perception and senses. The sound installation conjured up mental images of the church’s alternative uses (as a workshop, sports hall, restaurant and

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 167 residential building) in the past, as well as the future. My spatial intervention took the shape of a red bridge: an active visual symbol used to encourage people to join in the discussion of whether or not there were any taboos when it came to re-purposing former sacred buildings, and what kinds of things modern people continue to hold sacred. Does the unavoidable process of change only diminish value or does it also create value? In the context of this dissertation, the project serves as a study of social/spiritual space that is intertwined with customs, communication and behaviour.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 168 6.2 FUNCTIONAL CHANGES IN SACRED BUILDINGS IN EUROPE AND ESTONIA

Why are so many sacred buildings nowadays abandoned? The historic urban landscape of most European cities is dominated by medieval cathedrals. The churches are mostly also objects of architectural monuments and subject to specific restoration guidelines if not possible demolition. They have maintained their original functions for many centuries, but the modern generation is becoming less and less connected to the ecclesiastical mindset and congregational activities. Fewer and fewer people are making use of churches. The churches themselves are owned by congregations who maintain the buildings, pay for any construction and renovation work, and cover the day-to-day costs. Relatively high church tax rates (e.g. 10% of one’s annual income in Germany and Sweden) have forced people to leave congregations; congregations merge or disappear and many sacred buildings are losing their religious meaning. Disused churches stand completely empty in city centres, despite the fact that a lot of people visit the city centres every day. In today’s Europe, social, nationalist and religious changes have emerged and in some places they have also reached critical levels. In Brussels, a traditionally Christian cultural space, the number of mosques has surpassed that of Catholic churches: there are currently about 125 Christian churches and about 160 mosques in Brussels. The acuteness of this transformation naturally varies throughout Europe. It is not a concern in countries with strong Catholic traditions, such as Italy and Poland, where more churches are being built. In the heart of Europe, however – in the Netherlands, Germany and England – hundreds of churches have been abandoned and different solutions are being sought for their purpose/occupation.

How can abandoned church buildings be revived? This is also a divisive issue in Estonia. Public opinion largely tends to be that if a sacred building had operated in this capacity for several centuries, it could perhaps be revived in the next century, i.e. nothing should/ needs to be done about it for now. On the other hand, it is also a fact that vacant buildings deteriorate at a faster rate. However, many monumental sacred buildings are now also active as nightclubs and dance halls, such as the Seven Candles Church (1865) Nightclub in Denver, Colorado. The English have pragmatically created real estate websites to buy and sell church buildings. In this way, surplus sacred buildings can find new owners and purposes. Over the

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 169 past 75 years, roughly 8,000 Methodist chapels have closed down in England. Within the past five years, around 500 churches have been remodelled into residential buildings in London.195 Adding a modern interior to a historic building, such as a church, creates a contemporary home and adds value to the real estate. A similar trend can be observed in Australia and Tasmania; there it is quite common to see ‘for sale’ signs on the walls of churches: there is a desire for sacral buildings to become homes.

The Netherlands also offers a number of interesting examples of how church buildings can be re-purposed. For instance, in Maas- tricht there are two famous sights that can be visited on a Sun- day morning instead of going there to attend a mass. An imposing book store has been opened in a former Dominican church; the Dominicanen book store (architect Patrice Girod, interior architect Evelyne Merkx) is part of the European book store chain Selexyz. The building had long ago lost its function as a church and in the meanwhile it had stood vacant and been used as a children’s centre, warehouse, bicycle rental shop etc. The magnificent interior of the book store is respectful of the high three-naved Gothic church, maintaining both the integrity of its architectural structure and its spatial value. An elegant metal construction containing bookshelves has been placed in the centre of the room, where it forms an independent multi-level structure that allows visitors to climb up to the vaulted ceiling.196 In the course of reconstruction work, as bathrooms and storerooms were being constructed, all of the human remains that were still buried in the church were disin- terred and reburied in the choir area. In the current interior, the choir area houses a cafe; its cross-shaped bar made of modern painted lightweight flakeboard has a provocative effect. According to the authors, their goal was to create 1,200 square metres of commercial space in a 750 square metre church. The black multi-level steel construction offered a pragmatic solution that also enriches people’s experience of the space.197

195 A. Eadie, Buying a Church Conversion, http://www.ourproperty.co.uk/guides/buying_a_church conversion/ (accessed 8 November 2016). 196 Somewhat similarly, the mediaeval ruins of the Tartu Cathedral in Estonia were rebuilt into the university’s library in the early 19th century. However, in this case the interior of the building was separated into lower levels by adding intermediate floors (architect Johann Wilhelm Krause). 197 P. Girod, E. Merkx, Ambitsioonikas ruum / Ambitious Space. – SISU—LINE 2016, no. 2, p. 95.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 170 Fig 79: Selexyz book shop in the former Dominican church in Maastricht, 2012.

In the same neighbourhood in Maastricht, the elegant Kruisheren hotel (a joint project of the architect Henk Vos and the lighting engineer Ingo Maurer) is located in a renovated monastery complex. The walls in the lobby of the stylish design hotel are covered in Bible- themed cartoons by the comic artist Kamagurka.

Fig 80: Kruisheren design hotel in Maastricht, 2012. Fig 81: Kamagurka MMXII: XII Jesus Dies On The Cross, IV Jesus meets his afflicted mother Mary, Maastricht 2012.

These are good examples of re-purposed church buildings: well- designed and functional buildings, where only attractively designed ‘entrance gates’ have been added to the authentic exterior structures. The authors of these metamorphoses have purposely avoided adding intermediate floors which would interfere with the architectural structure of the buildings and disrupt their interior space.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 171 Rather, visitors are for the first time given a unique chance to reach the vaults of a Gothic church by simply climbing the stairs. Neverthe- less, the fact that the book store and hotel now serve contemporary business interests are seen as in conflict with the original sacred function of these buildings. This situation where one important cultural stratum could be lost is intriguing, but only as long as it remains rare and does not become a predominant type of metamorphosis. Provocative concepts, attractive designs and occasionally kitschy solutions draw attention and attract visitors. As people are becoming harder and harder to surprise in the contemporary world, where things quickly change and there is an abundance of information, this is also one of the gauges of whether or not a building or space really works.

Fig 82: The activated entrance of the Kruisheren hotel, Maastricht 2013.

The church of the former Augustinian monastery in Antwerp now houses the non-profit AMUZ concert hall. While the Rubens paintings in the restored early-Baroque basilica have been removed and replaced with reproductions, there have also been some additions: adjustable acoustic window coverings, modern lighting solutions and ergonomically designed chairs by Vitra. The Our Dear Lady Chapel, still decorated with authentic murals, now houses a foyer and an elegant bar. A modern annex with lecture halls is primarily used by musicians, providing comfortable dressing rooms that most concert venues lack. The families of Antwerp can now enjoy a delightful Sunday brunch in the former monastery chapel.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 172 Fig 83: AMUZ concert hall in the former Augustinian monastery – the bar in the chapel, Antwerp 2010.

Fig 84: Former Caermers monastery in Ghent transformed into the Centre for Art and Culture of the province of East Flanders, Ghent 2011.

The Basilica of the Sacred Heart (1905–1971) in Brussels was commissioned by King Leopold II in celebration of the 75th anniversary of the Kingdom of Belgium. The largest Art Deco building in Europe, it still operates as a church, but has also gained a number of additional functions. During the week, the church can only be accessed through the restaurant, while in the back rooms (such as the former heating room) members of the local rock climbing club have set up their safety lines. Climbers also have permission to use the exterior of the church.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 173 Fig 85: The climbing scheme of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart (1905–1971), Brussels 2010.

Near the Law Courts of Brussels, there is a small baroque Brigit- tine chapel from the 17th century that has been expanded with a modern minimalist structure with equal proportions. This new extension functions as the Contemporary Dance and Music Centre, with a black box auditorium, rehearsal rooms, dance studios, an office, kitchen etc. The project area of the old sacred building has been elegantly integrated with the modern conditions created in the annex: ramps, heating, lighting etc.

Fig 86: Baroque Brigittine chapel and the modern extension functioning as the Contemporary Dance and Music Centre, Brussels 2015.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 174 In Germany, former sacred buildings are commonly used as restaurants, office buildings or museums, e.g. the restaurant Glück und Seligkeit in St Martin’s Church in Bielefeld, an office block in the St Alfons monastery church in Aachen, and the MACHmit! Museum for Children in the Elias Church in Berlin. A new and original function has been found for the formerly vacant St Joseph’s Church in the heart of Aachen. It now serves as a graves-church for hundreds of cremation urns, with a stream of water flowing through the floor to create atmosphere. The high-priced urns cover the cost of the project.

Such transformations are at once intriguing and lead one to ask: why? Elegant ways have been found for adapting these buildings to their new uses, which is key to reviving abandoned structures. This saves the buildings from inevitable ruin and also provides a spatial experience for modern users. Nevertheless, commercial solutions do not manage to convey the essential values of the former sacred buildings that were once rooted in tradition.

In Estonia, a large number of churches underwent metamorphoses quite a bit earlier than in the rest of Europe: after World War II, the Soviet regime was in the forefront of re-purposing church buildings. The conflict of form and function did not stop the regime from assigning vacant sacred buildings new and ‘useful’ purposes, such as sports halls, general stores, community cultural centres, barns for sheep and chickens, manure storage areas and warehouses. Some examples of churches re-purposed as sports halls are St Michael’s Swedish Church (built 1752–55; re-purposed 1949) and the Church of St. Simeon and the Prophetess Hanna (re-purposed 1970) in Tallinn, both reconsecrated after the restoration of Estonia’s independence, and Tartu’s St Mary’s Church (re-purposed 1961), currently under- going restoration. The Jaani Seegi Church in Tallinn (re-purposed early 1960s) and St. Nicholas’ Church in Paldiski, both now restored, were used as warehouses. The Baptist House of Prayer in Kõpu, Hii- umaa served as a general store and has now been re-purposed as a residential building. Community centres were set up in the Külamäe Orthodox church and school building in Kõpu, Hiiumaa (re-purposed 1957), now restored as a community centre with the chapel and teachers’ chambers yet to be renovated, as well as the House of Prayer of Evangelical Christians in Tõrva (restored) and the House of Prayer of the Moravian Brothers in Misso (restored). The House of Prayer of Evangelical Christians in Aruküla, Virumaa was used as a barn; the Peetrimõisa German Lutheran church in Võrumaa and St Martin’s Church in Rasina, Põlvamaa (restored) served as

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 175 a chicken barn and a manure storage area. Some churches were subjected to somewhat more cultured metamorphoses, becoming libraries, concert halls, theatres or cinemas. Some examples include the ruins of St. Nicholas’ Church in Tallinn, reconstructed into a museum space and concert hall in 1953–1984, and St Paul’s Church in Tartu (architect Eliel Saarinen, 1919), reconstructed into a sports museum in 1970 and also used as a repository for the Estonian National Museum. The Bethel Lutheran Church in Pelgulinn (now reconsecrated) was re-purposed in 1962 as a sound stage for Esto- nian Television, and the House of Prayer of the Moravian Brothers in Tallinn became a film studio in the late 1950s (demolished). The Mustvee Baptist House of Prayer was reconstructed into a cultural centre and cinema (now returned to the congregation and used as a secular building). Tallinn’s Seventh-day Adventist Church, which had previously housed a theological seminary, was transformed into the Kalinin District Cultural Centre in 1948, and a branch of the Tallinn Central Library in 1950 (transformed into the Pelgulinn Community Centre in 1990). The Tartu University church was reconstructed into a library in 1956 (currently, the university archive and spontaneously established innovative Y Gallery, owned by the university).198

Modern Estonian churches constructed in the 1920s and 1930s are smaller and their designs less ambitious. Because of their modest exteriors, they often bear little resemblance to sacred buildings and were therefore much easier to transform into residential buildings, workshops, kindergartens etc. Tallinn’s Seventh-day Adventist Church was reconstructed into flats, and the Iru Baptist House of Prayer and the House of Prayer of the Moravian Brothers in Jüri became private residences. The Kärdla Baptist House of Prayer was used as a print shop and woodworking shop (now reconsecrated). Tartu’s Seventh-day Adventist Church was modified into a kindergarten in 1963 (now reconsecrated). A typical example is the story of the German Lutheran Church of the Redeemer (architect Robert Natus, 1932) in Nõmme. The Neo-Expressionist church lost its congregation after World War II and was handed over to the Estonian Artists’ Association for the creation of a shared atelier space, but was actually only used as a warehouse. In 1957–58, it was remodelled and divided into work experience education classrooms for the local Russian school: concrete intermediate floors and a hallway were added, high and narrow window openings were closed and new openings were added. The building later fell into disuse, but after

198 E. Tamm, Moodsad kirikud: Eesti 1920.–1930. aastate sakraalarhitektuur. Tallinn: Eesti Arhitektuurimuuseum, 2001.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 176 the re-establishment of Estonia’s independence it was returned to its rightful owners, restored and, in 2008, reconsecrated.199 Some other church buildings remain vacant, were demolished or have simply been destroyed.

Once Estonia regained its independence in 1991, the opposite trend emerged: church buildings were returned to their congregations by the Ownership Reform Act passed in 1991, where unlaw- fully expropriated land is to be returned to its former owners. With the help of foreign congregations, a great number of churches that had lost their initial sacred function were restored; one such example is St Michael’s Swedish Church in Tallinn. A creditable but rare example is St Paul’s Church in Rakvere (architect Alar Kotli, 1940), which for many years served as a gymnasium. After the Estonian University of Life Sciences moved out of St Mary’s Church in Tartu, St Paul’s Church in Rakvere remained as the last ‘sports church’ in Estonia. As many as 136 concepts were submitted for the architectural competition.200 An international architectural competition was held to find a design transforming the building into the Arvo Pärt Concert Hall. The idea of replacing this Soviet-era gymnasium of the Estonian Sports Association Kalev with a concert hall was tactful: sensitive regarding collective memory and ethically acceptable.201 In the end, it was decided not to go ahead with this project in Rakvere. Instead, the Arvo Pärt Centre will be built in a pine forest in Lohusalu. The sports church is home to a youth centre and plays a central role in the Baltoscandal international theatre festival. St Paul’s Church in Tartu, the only surviving example of the Finnish-American architect Eliel Saarinen’s sacred architecture, has recently been renovated with help from Finland, and a day care centre now operates in the building.

199 E. Tamm, O. Liivik, Tallinna kirikud. Ajalugu ja restaureerimine. Tallinn: Tallinna Kultuuriväärtuste Amet, 2009, pp. 79–80. 200 R. Järg, Rakvere Pauluse kirik – Kalevi hall – Pärdi muusikamaja. – Maja 2009, no. 62 (4), pp. 50–52. 201 T.-K. Vaikla, Muutuv ruum. – Maja 2010, no. 63, pp. 8–11.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 177 Fig 87: St Michael’s Swedish Church in Tallinn, re-purposed as a sports halls, 1949 (photo: archive of St Michael’s Swedish Church).

Compared to the number of churchgoers, Estonia has a dispropor- tionately large number of churches. Since the re-establishment of Estonia’s independence, the past few decades have seen a search for identity and self-assertion, leading to the restoration of many derelict churches to their traditional function. The beginning of this period saw a boost in the number of churchgoers but, just as elsewhere (mostly in the Protestant Western world), those numbers have gone down again in the 21st century.

From the perspective of conserving our culture in Estonia, by restor- ing these churches for future generations we have renewed their value. With historic buildings and interiors, the question of what should be done and how is of critical importance. A certain palpable tension remains between the old tradition and new functions. Having visited the re-purposed churches listed above, it seems to me that people’s sense and concept of sanctity is diminishing, either consciously or unconsciously. Interior design appears to be oriented towards the ‘wow factor’, mainly seeking to attract visitors/consum- ers. Church buildings are indeed being used, but they are becoming part of the entertainment industry of the business world, as seen in Maastricht. It is clear that a global increase in the modernisation of churches has triggered a process of sales and purchases that could possibly destroy one of their cultural layers. As discussed earlier, Riegl notes that a building’s use value is of paramount importance and a valid grounds for intervention (see Chapter 2.5 ): it is better to put a building to use than to let it fall into ruin. With that in mind, I believe that a continued concentrated search for new solutions is warranted, and constant dialogue with the public should be promoted.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 178 Similarly, the globally emerging topic of re-purposing buildings is increasingly addressed in the curricula of architectural schools. An interesting example of this search for new functions was a joint workshop of European universities, Abandoned Sacred Places: Po- ethical Reconversions, at the Belgian Sint-Lucas School of Architec- ture in Brussels/Ghent (2010). There, participants sought to define the meaning of sanctity in the modern world and tried to come up with new functions for a church, based on their own cultural backgrounds and identities. The workshop also included a variety of spatial experiences in some of the re-purposed sacred buildings described above. The emergence of religious clashes caused by the participants’ different backgrounds provided a solid foundation for addressing similar problems involving Catholic, Lutheran, Anglican, Islamic and atheist world-views in the future: the list of attendees included students and lecturers from Germany, Cyprus, Italy, Estonia and Belgium. This experience also inspired my site- specific exhibition project and interdisciplinary workshop in an abandoned church building, as described below.

Fig 88: St Michael’s Swedish Church in Tallinn, re-purposed as a sports halls, 1949 (photo: archive of St Michael’s Swedish Church).

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 179 6.3 EXHIBITION PROJECT HOUSEWARMING, HIIUMAA’S PALUKÜLA CHURCH, 12 JULY – 4 AUGUST 2013

Putting a target where the altarpiece used to stand, Soviet soldiers set up a shooting range in the Paluküla church. At the same time, the church’s thick limestone walls created a safe depository for a gas company’s storage rooms (or was it the other way round?). Such surprising changes in function were brought about by the pragmatic re-purposing of churches after World War II. The immediate surroundings of the church reveal an abundance of information regarding the various strata of its recent history: an auto repair shop, a woodworking shop and an abandoned gas station.

My third site-specific exhibition project took place in the Paluküla church in Hiiumaa, and was entitled Housewarming.202 For my subject, I chose a sacred building/space: the Paluküla church on the island of Hiiumaa, off the west coast of Estonia. This is a deliberately small and specific location where community boundaries can be observed clearly. Paluküla is also where the roots of my Kokla family branch are (I have permanent ties to Hiiumaa to this day).

Fig 89: The abandoned Paluküla church and nearby gas station, Hiiumaa 2013.

202 The exhibition was created in collaboration with Külli Tüli, Sylvia Köster, Keity Pook, Siim Porila, Ann Mirjam Vaikla, Urmo Vaikla and Ingel Vaikla.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 180 27.60

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6.3.1. SPATIAL CHANGE: CONTEXT – ACTION – IDEAS

Both in the site-specific exhibition project and the interdisciplinary workshop, I used this case to analyse the various possibilities of spatial intervention in the re-purposing of a building. In modern practice, the re-purposing of historic buildings is often characterised by aestheti- cally impressive plays on form, as dictated by market rules. To counter these trends, I look for possible alternative interior architectural and artistic approaches with a simultaneous focus on the needs of modern users, as well as finding and highlighting the values of historic buildings, and interpreting them as unique phenomena. I use site-specific exhibition projects as thinking and working models to create a laboratory – a test site – to discover existing values present in the location

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 181 and space, and to test new ideas. It has become evident in the course of my research that a flexible and sensitive way of thinking leads to a solution that can integrate the lifestyle of the local community, as well as the needs of newcomers, tourists and other contemporary users.

Fig 91: The abandoned Paluküla church, Hiiumaa 2013.

On the rim of the Kärdla meteorite crater lies a miniature, beautifully proportioned Gothic Revival church. It was built as a sepulchral chapel (1815–1820) for Count Ungern-Sternberg’s family, but due to the high level of groundwater in the area, no one is known to have been buried there. The tunnel-vaulted crypt underneath the church hall explains the unusually high above-grade foundation. What makes this building note- worthy is that it was not occupied originally, so it lacks an initial function. During World War I, the unclaimed building was damaged by army units passing through the area, as well as by local marauders. Seeking to put the building to use, congregations from Pühalepa and Palade, and later also the nearby Kärdla congregation held their holiday services in this church. The building was revived again in 1935 by a volunteer organisation of the workers of the Department of Waterways. The volunteers restored the church tower as a navigation mark, repaired the shingle roof, as well as the weather vane, the work of a local master. A new tile roof was installed and both the interior and exterior of the building were remodelled. In the fall of the same year, the church was consecrated and incorporated as part of Kärdla’s St John’s congregation.203

At the beginning of World War II, the strategically notable navigation mark and church building was placed at the disposal of Soviet military bases. In 1941, front line trenches were dug in the vicinity of

203 J. Viires, Paluküla kiriku restaureerimine. Ajalooline õiend. Volume II. Tallinn: KRPI, 1989. (Archive of Muinsuskaitseamet, ERA.T-76.1.12567).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 182 the building. The tower was used as a guard post, the vaulted cellar was used to store military equipment, the organ and windows were smashed, and the young pastor was deported to Russia. Under Sta- lin’s regime, the building was re-purposed as a civil defence shelter attached to the local kolkhoz. An industrial landscape was established in the vicinity of the church and still exists in the form of an auto repair shop, a woodworking shop and a plant nursery. Locals recall that, during the Soviet era, gas canisters were stored within the church’s thick limestone walls, as the local gas depot operated nearby. Locals also used the crypt as an ice cellar.

For half a century, the church tower has also functioned as a navigation mark; it is known as the Paluküla rear leading mark and, together with the front leading mark of the Hiiessaare lighthouse, it forms a leading line (distance between the marks: 2,580 m, azimuth of the leading line: 229°). As an active navigation mark, it is regis- tered at the maritime registration as an aid to navigation. Because of this, the building was given a new roof in 1994 and a new tower spire in 1996.

Empty cartridge casings can still be found lying on the floor, evidence of the target that once occupied the place of the altarpiece. Nowadays the lean church building with blind windows stands abandoned, torn plastic window covers flapping in the wind. According to locals, migratory swans sometimes fly in through the tower windows to die there.

To get a feel for the project and the space, we began by clearing the layers of debris that had long accumulated on the floor and tower stairs of the church. After this, we delved into the minds of local people. I asked some local people of Hiiumaa 204 to join us for a little picnic in the church. The aim was to film some interviews, let- ting them share their memories and experiences, expectations and dreams with regard to this location and space. The interviewees were former and current officials, citizens, relatives and friends who had some kind of direct or indirect connection to the church building. I asked them just a couple of questions: What is your personal connection to this abandoned building and how could it be used in future? Rather provocatively, I also inquired: Could it be turned into a public nightclub or a family residence? Their responses and sug- gestions were quite accepting of many types of changes, partly due

204 Tiit Harjak, Tiiu Heldema, Karin Kokla, Katariin Kokla, Paul Kokla, Dan Lukas, Madis Markus, Ants Orav, Hüllo-Kristjan Simson, Vilma Tikerpuu and Liia Viin.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 183 to the miserable state that this beautiful building is now in. What was considered most important was that the church should be put to use, with people most commonly envisioning it as a future concert hall. The respondents were also receptive to the idea of using it as a gymnasium and were even willing to accept it as a nightclub, as it is an isolated place where loud music would not disturb any neighbours; nevertheless, the importance of proper maintenance was stressed in connection with this function. Even re-purposing the church building as a private residence was seen as an acceptable outcome. Personal contact with these people gave me the chance to recognise and analyse the attitudes of local people towards the idea of re-purposing this abandoned building, and encouraged me to perform a spatial intervention by means of a site-specific exhibition project.

The many pragmatic functions of churches in the Soviet era – as barns (for pigs and other livestock), workshops (woodworking and metal), sports facilities (for fitness and gymnastics) and warehouses (storing potatoes and construction materials) – inspired me to create a sound installation for the exhibition. The sounds would emphasise the contrast between the Gothic Revival church building and the imaginary practical use of space. The project, entitled House- warming, aimed to bring these past circumstances back to life. In the interest of promoting discussion, I also contrasted these Soviet-era metamorphoses (as barns, sports facility etc.) with the current trend of re-purposing church buildings as luxury design hotels, boutiques, restaurants, kindergartens, nightclubs and private residences.

As an event, Housewarming was, in essence, a markedly non-sacred ritual, making references to the conflict inherent in either using or not using the building. The grandiose chapel had clearly lost its previous functions of a place of burial, navigation mark and sacred building. What reactions and ideas did Housewarming trigger in people with its attempts at encouraging them to domesticate and use this building? Preparing for the exhibition, I was mostly inspired by the spatial environment: the ruins of this miniature, beautifully proportioned church, the surrounding silicate-brick industrial buildings, the melancholy erstwhile gas station, and the sounds of birds and the sea, all merged to create a unique combination.

The main goal of the exhibition project was to create a spatial experience that would arouse people from a quietly ignorant frozen state of familiarity to see the environment as it had become and to accept it as a normal state of affairs. I mainly perceived this project as the creation of a social space. It was also important for me to provide

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 184 visual representations of the prosaic functions assigned to churches in the Soviet era and contrast them with the glamorous modern uses from around the world, as referenced above. I used symbolic red stairs to activate the entrance of the monochrome building, inviting people to step inside the derelict building. A raised red path (instead of the familiar red carpet) made its way through the room and up the back wall. This dynamic bridge divided the interior of the church into two parts, allowing visitors to move ‘above’ the dusty floor and reach a red ‘altar’, where they could nail to the wall their personal ideas about the possible future uses of this church space. I used the help of a sound editor (Külli Tüli) to create a backdrop of sound to support an imagined vision. The sounds marked the building as a navigation marker (the sounds of wind and sea birds), a church (bells), a gymnasium (rhythmic basketball sounds), a restaurant (the hum of voices and the clinking of cutlery), a barn (sounds of farm animals), a workshop (hammering), a nightclub (booming music) and finally a home (distinct sounds of children’s laughter and radio news). These contrasting sounds brought the abandoned building back to life. Sacred music composed by Hildegard von Bingen in the 12th century revived the remote church even at night. White curtains hung up high in the tower windows floated in the breeze, creating an illusion of domesticated space. Interior as well as exterior spaces were activated to conjure up and contrast visions of the past and the imagined future. The colour red could also be interpreted as an allusion to the red Soviet past, which took over the religious building during the last war, re-used the place as a storage area and changed the surrounding natural landscape into an industrial area. The red stairs of the sacred building called to mind the holy feeling of climbing towards the sky. Working on site-specificity in a cultural and social way, I intended that the visitors notice several different layers from the past which were hidden there in the controversial situation of an abandoned sacral building and half-abandoned Soviet industrial environment: by doing so, focusing on the re-purposing possibilities from their own viewpoints.

6.3.2 OPEN WORKSHOP RE-VITALISATION

Simultaneously with the exhibition project and drawing inspiration from both the theoretical standpoints on re-purposing space outlined in this dissertation and the practical possibilities discussed in its creative section, I held an interdisciplinary workshop entitled OPEN workshop Re-Vitalisation in the abandoned Paluküla church. The structure and organisation of the workshop allowed

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 185 for backwards and forwards (projecting into future) time mobility, both mentally and physically. In this way, together with the students we could use practical activities to experience the different layers of the sacred space, focusing on the big picture and then zooming in to details. The aim of the workshop was to advance and develop critical spatial thinking and a keen sense of social environment, as well as the ability to analyse spatial context. Using these skills, the participants would be able to present and advance their own creative ideas. The list of participants consisted of students of Architecture, Interior Architecture, Restoration, Art History, and Jewellery and Blacksmithing from the Estonian Academy of Arts, and students from the Viljandi Dance Academy, together with their teachers205. Members of the local community were invited to join in.

Fig 92: Exhibition project Housewarming in the Paluküla church, Hiiumaa 2013.

205 Prof. Ranulph Glanville (London Royal College of Art), Tom Callebaut (LUCA, Sint-Lucas School of Architecture, Brussels/Ghent), Prof. Andres Ojari, Martin Melioranski, Urmo Vaikla, Maris Mändel, Oliver Orro and Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla (Estonian Academy of Arts).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 186 The topic of this study group was the reinterpretation of a building/space through the analysis of its local context. Our ultimate goal was to activate this abandoned but significant place and to create a new atmosphere. The workshop took the form of working groups, utilising the synergy between them and the community to search for a new function based on pragmatic needs, emotions and sensory experiences. Participants were tasked with identify- ing any values of this building that should be preserved even after its transformation, considering that the notion of what is valuable changes over time. Likewise, they were to consider different ways of putting such historic buildings to use in a dignified and sustainable manner, i.e. consistent, healthy and lucrative uses on both the individual and community levels, and to recognize the influence that spatial intervention has on public opinion and the surrounding community. The aim was to use various activities and aesthetic tools to look for promising options. This hands- on method generated a number of questions: Who will its future users be? What would this place need? What happens if no new purpose is found? Can all problems be solved and do they need to be solved right away?

The students familiarised themselves with the temporal and spatial context of the location and worked in groups, developing various ideas on how to revive this abandoned site and suggesting different spatial interventions needed to execute these ideas. Using trial and error, the sacred space served as a test site and was assigned different functions in an effort to develop new thinking models and architectural models for the re-purposing of church buildings. Over the course of four days and nights, we domesticated the church for ourselves in order to test its spatial possibilities. A midnight candlelight church service/compline was held, as well as a provocative screening of Paradies: Glaube (by the Austrian director Ulrich Seidl, 2012) and workshop presentations, in both verbal and physical form. Inspired by the sound installation of the exhibition, a modern dance performance used physical movement to express the varied uses of sacred buildings as barns, basketball courts and restaurants. The culmination of the event was a ‘housewarming party’ at the opening of the exhibition: people cooked and ate pancakes in the open air and local musicians gave a zither concert in the church, after which people could dance and mingle freely. This abandoned site had unexpectedly become a lively meeting place.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 187 Fig 93: Sacred space as a lab, Hiiumaa 2013.

The presentation of the workshop’s results and a debate involving local residents and people from the Estonian Academy of Arts were held in the church hall; models for re-purposing the church building were exhibited downstairs in the crypt. Work groups made up of young architects, interior architects, designers and art historians presented their imaginative ideas. The first group wanted to leave the interior untouched, but give the building a new form by hiding it in a box that would draw even more attention to it. The second group suggested re-purposing the church as a shelter for backpackers, and designed suitable multifunctional furniture for the interior. The third group proposed activating the space by adding a climbing wall, and the fourth group envisioned the church as a wedding site for same- sex couples or people who don’t belong to any church. Over the course of this process, the participants reflected on the meaning of sanctity for people in the past and in the future.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 188 Fig 94: Developing of modes, models and methodologies of practice, Hiiumaa 2013.

CASE III – Hiiumaa Paluküla Church 189 6.4 CONCLUSIONS

I focused on what it means to revive a building, and on finding different ways to involve a greater variety of people in my activities. The third site-specific exhibition project, Housewarming at the Paluküla church in Hiiumaa, brought the abandoned building back to life and explored the local people’s relationship with the church.

On the whole, the exhibition project with its transdisciplinary workshop fulfilled its main purpose: it mobilised people and made them notice what was there. The action triggered a lot of lively and case-specific reactions. Hundreds of people visited the abandoned Paluküla church and a few hundred slips of paper with extremely varied ideas on how to re-purpose the building were nailed to the ‘red altar’. The project was reviewed from assorted and contradictory angles in local, as well as cultural and architectural, media, and the local community awarded Housewarming the title of the second most important event to take place in Hiiumaa in 2013. Another indicator of the influence of this project is that the Kärdla congregation subsequently decided to clear the vicinity of the church of trees, supposedly to make space for a parking area for visitors.

Sacred buildings are interesting locations when it comes to testing the functional reinterpretation of space: there is an added layer of invisible value that is much less prominent in other buildings.206 They necessitate the question of which new functions are appropriate and which are not. It is possible to achieve a sense of a specific space by trial and error; awareness of spatial influence is greatly dependent on the length of time spent in that space. Because no feasible plans with regard to re-purposing this building were on the table at the time, the project helped the community to gain a sense of ownership: the value of the building increased in their eyes and they became more interested in its future prospects.

206 In the case of the Paluküla church, it is notable that its use has been ambiguous since the very beginning, as the building could not function in its initial intended purpose as a sepulchral chapel. The Kärdla congregation has used this building to hold some of their holiday services. To a modern visitor, its Gothic Revival architecture mostly suggests an abandoned church.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 190 191

SUMMARY

My research does not propose to alter something existing but rather the aspiration to highlight spatial relationships that have hitherto remained concealed. This dissertation is an attempt to find modes and models for expanding the concept of professional spatial intervention an installation/ exhibition/performative mode that precedes and informs the final project re-purposing and re-designing of a space/ building. The practice-based research investigates, on the basis of case studies, the activation of space and forms of spatial intervention tactics, focusing on physical space parallel to the mental and social strata of space. The practical part focuses on phenomenological knowledge of techniques for re-purposing derelict buildings that revived the evolving gentrification process.

 Fig 95: Pavillon Four Cubes to Contemplate our Environment by Tadao Ando, Chateau la Coste 2016. 193 Different types of buildings suggest different possibilities for re-purposing and redesigning based on the building’s physical and intellectual character (connected to knowledge, images, memories and ideas) and social space (connected to behaviour and communication). The cultural and social values of a building are not necessarily directly connected to architectural value. Established cultural and social value, however, should be an important point of departure in functional re- purposing. In the physical sense, it is remarkably easier to adapt historical buildings with load-bearing walls to new functions through reconstruction, yet nowadays it is more complicated to achieve this in the case of rigid load-bearing constructions and also due to current construction standards and complex contemporary construction technologies. In the course of reconstructions, the original spatial values tend to disappear. By this I am referring to such physical values as a splendid spatial programme and the logistics arising from it, spatial proportions, window and door openings. If the reason why this kind of space was created disappears, then the people involved do not know how or do not wish to use those values or to feature them any longer in the building’s new function. There are different reasons for this, such as a new spatial programme with rigid rules based on the principle of economic savings (which confirms the unsuitability of the new function) and focusing on the building’s physical corpus exclusively from the pragmatic point of view, while ignoring non-material values. The cognition of the spatial values of a building depends not so much on the type of building as on the mutual effect of the attributes of the space. Yet the values – both material and immaterial – that can be ascribed to an object/space vary over time. Cases in which the original spatial programme is restored when the owner (and the building’s function) change(s) are also common. This makes it possible to experience, sense and appreciate the original attributes. Each case requires an in-depth approach and the skilful treatment of all the levels of a space: social, mental and physical.

In this doctoral thesis, I have posed the following research questions: How is it possible to find an interaction of contemporary user and historical building in the functional re-purposing process? And what should be borne in mind when speaking of (changing) architectural and spatial values in a historical building? I argue that in the case of historical buildings only the physical substance of the building is valued by heritage protectors, and its intangible values are not protected. Often in the revitalisation of derelict buildings there is a lack of direct contact with possible users in the functional re-purposing process. In this dissertation, I have set the goals of focusing on extending the concept of spatial intervention and experimenting

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 194 as a spatial practitioner with approaches that facilitate finding and highlighting spatial attributes in order to appreciate the mental (emotional) and social spatial levels that have been overshadowed in the built environment. The revitalisation (even if only temporary) of abandoned places proceeds on the boundaries of these kinds of spatial interventions, somewhere between planning and realisation. This is not the desire to alter something that already exists, but rather the attempt to highlight spatial relations that have hitherto been overshadowed. This study is an attempt to find ways and models for expanding the concept of professional spatial intervention. The research has been more or less influenced by my practice in interior architecture and rethinking the profession while in both learning and teaching positions. The research process has been a way of extending my practice.

Interior architecture as a profession is involved in activated topical processes that are connected with people and space. Interior architecture studies the impact of space on people and the impact of people on space. The interior architect as the creator of spatial effects can intentionally transform people’s behavioural patterns in space but the users of space equally transform space. From the standpoint of the development of the profession, making sense of space in an academic way via the PhD process and the dynamics of communication between practising interior architects are important, as they involve multilayered cooperation in the practical experience of putting theory into practice. Ways of activating space and tactics for spatial intervention can be taught and learned in an academic environment using a practice-based approach related to social changes in the future. In parallel with physical space, it is important to focus on mental and social space. When dealing with physical space, emotional sensibility disappears and, vice versa, by focusing only on mental space, the functional, practical needs of a space can go unresolved. In the case of the professional design of interior architectural space, the actual physical approach and the emotional approach are in an inversely proportional relation to each other.

The spatial intervention projects of this study have been inspired by actual situations that have emerged over time: the stagnation of the activities of life, which can in a certain sense be considered a conflict in a social context between residents and the existing environment. In Estonia, this has been/is particularly prevalent and urgent to address. I have gone beyond the boundaries of official institutions with the projects I have curated. This provides me as an interior architect with the opportunity to examine connections

SUMMARY 195 between places, spaces and people. These concerns are part of the interior architecture practice. I consider the importance of a place in the meaning of a project, whether it is an exhibition or an event, and the importance of the exhibition project as an event in the sense of place. Michel de Certeau’s concept of the event includes the possibility of radical change in what is normally understood as an event. An event is not what we can find out about it, but rather what it later becomes (first and foremost for us).207 In the broader sense, space is part of a physical building, with its temporal background and actual vicinity, and thus it is connected to people, or users. The association of people is renewable; the notions of these places are conditional both in the temporal sense and in the sense of their background. In the broader context, this relates to the prevailing social system and location, both in the geographical sense and in terms of climatic conditions.

The concept of ‘presence’ is associated with place, or with the sense of being present with one’s thoughts and senses. Over the course of the site-specific projects of this practice-based study, I have intervened in abandoned buildings in order to relate to people and generate interest, provoking a reaction that in the larger perspective can reactivate a place that has been abandoned in a way that relates to the present. From the position of the author, this is an act of social criticism: the raising of such questions produces a form of design activism, i.e. the active solution of problems in a way characteristic of a designer. Thus my spatial intervention is the activation of space in a selected place by artistic means.

The starting point of my dissertation Re-purposing Space: The Role and Potential of Spatial Intervention is the search for possible forms of interaction between contemporary users and the historical building. Asking critical questions of the local community and visitors, and testing several situations and conditions in site-specific exhibitions has provided an overview of ideas, wishes and expectations concerning new functions. Through spatial interventions, I have also searched for architectural values and details, aiming to activate local people to notice their neighbourhoods and to inspire them to participate in improving their living environments. By doing so, it is possible to discover the potential of abandoned buildings and to keep local traditions and cultures alive in the future. The workshops that addressed the local community helped to find and combine the dynamics of practical experience and theoretical knowledge.

207 M. Tamm, Ajaloolane Certeau – püüdmatuse püüdja. Intervjuu prantsuse ideeloo uurija Francois Dosse’iga – Sirp, 20 February 2006.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 196 In order to better understand the social changes in spatial context, another of my starting points has been the understanding of gentrification as a process, which is connected with the evocation of spatial changes and with the relocation of people. Gentrification involves the replacement of residents, or users, in an area where the level of social space is important.

Similarly, metamorphoses and transformations of space as re-purposing phenomena are also connected with the replacement of people.

I have considered functional changes in space in site-specific projects, focusing on the Pärnu Mud Baths, Tallinn Linnahall and Paluküla church in Hiiumaa, in order to articulate the potential of spatial interventions and to understand the behavioural patterns of users. Not only the practical behavioural pattern of using spaces, but also thought patterns and the phenomenological field of meaning for users, the bodily, emotional and imaginary relationships between people and space(s) have been focused on. My intention was to expand the phenomenon of the recycling of buildings as a conser- vational process that generates values for the future.

In my research, I have also relied on practical experiences acquired over the course of my doctoral studies in co-supervising on the theme of changes in function, e.g. Abandoned Sacred Places in Brussels (2010) at the Sint-Lucas architectural school, the OPEN workshop Re- Vitalisation at the Paluküla church in Hiiumaa (2013), and the RMIT Melbourne School of Architecture and Design students’ workshop Re- vitalisation of Space (2013). Just as important are the workshop projects carried out through the cooperation of the Estonian Academy of Arts and Tallinn University of Technology, over the course of which visions of the future were sought for (almost) abandoned buildings, for instance the Kohtla-Järve oil tower (2012), the Paluküla church (2013), the roof of the Church of St. Catherine in Tallinn (2014), Sindi’s industrial heritage (2015), the Kopli barracks (2016), and the Tapa – Estonian business card (2017), where the re-purposing research in the local context of the building was done as fieldwork.

The analysis of historical buildings through artistic and interior architectural practice is novel in Estonia. A number of generalisations have emerged as a result of revitalising abandoned or nearly abandoned buildings that barely continue to function through inertia. Below I outline the conclusions related to my posed research questions: How is it possible to find an interaction of contemporary user and historical building in the functional re-purposing process? And what should

SUMMARY 197 be borne in mind when speaking of (changing) architectural and spatial values in a historical building? Conclusions can be reached based on my three theoretical starting points: 1) phenomenology, 2) gentrification and 3) design activism.

1) Universal conclusions cannot be drawn and guidelines do not apply to different cases of the functional re-purposing of buildings through phenomenological spatial cognition: each building has a unique context, requiring a cognitive personal approach. Abandoned places conceal within themselves mystical, poetic potential. Their unique- ness contains high qualitative values. It is difficult to overestimate the danger of reducing them, in the course of rebuilding, to commercial places of amusement and consumerism. In order to map out the tangible and the intangible values of a space, it is important to keep the process dynamic and test different methods, from generating ideas to actual experiments. In order to discern the attributes of a space and to acquire diverse spatial experience, I have tried to create conditions for the perception of space through all of the different senses. It is a special experience to notice the echo of your own steps in an abandoned, nearly empty interior space, or to hear the voices of the surrounding nature. But feeling cold, or smelling dust is also important. By providing this experience, I created the opportunity for visitors to take in the space in different kinds of lighting (including spatial experience in the dark). We experimented with the students presenting their ideas and works in complete silence. It is important to sense the space in uncomfortable situations, and on humid or windy days. It turned out that excluding one sense led to the activation of other senses. These kinds of simple devices help visitors/students to notice and recognise the inherent physical attributes of a space, from where it is possible to think further, imagine and generate ideas. After doing so, testing again is an option to control the opportunities and effects in real space.

2) Gentrification is a part of re-urbanisation, in association with certain social groups and economic processes. In turn, diverse subcategories can be discerned in the gentrification process, such as studentifica- tion (which brings an increase in socio-cultural capital); similar to this is rent gentrification and tourism gentrification (a poorer residential district becomes a centre of tourism and entertainment), super-gentrification (which takes place in an already gentrified environment) and new-built gentrification (the overall appearance of an area changes due to new construction).208

208 L. Lees, A Reappraisal of Gentrification: Towards a ’Geography of Gentrification.’- The Gentrification Reader. Eds. L. Lees, T. Slater, E. Wyly. London: Routledge, 2010, p. 391.

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 198 Gentrification is more or less contemporary social violence, moderated by its approach, which focuses on culture. I am convinced that changes in the demographic profile of residents can be influenced in a process in which the alternative design projects of artists, designers and architects are involved in the regeneration of residential districts.

3) Design activism is related to social art in connecting art and design as creative processes, (although design activism is not necessarily an exhibition mode). Exhibitions always activate social communication. A site-specific exhibition project should not provide an overview of a situation, but search critically for hidden layers and problems, adding valuable information gathered in research. Posing an actual question through an exhibition directs people to critical reflection on a theme, and to rethink and choose between different viewpoints. Keeping the discussion open helps a community to adapt.

The journey, or the diverse angles of approach and contradictory activities of searches for new functions, the end result of which is analysis and synthesis, are just as important as finding a new function (which will quite likely change later). The tactic of site-specific exhibitions as spatial interventions primarily plays an important role in affecting public opinion. It is possible to change established public positions over the course of the process through the skilful presentation of ideas or, in other words, through communication. Here interviews and stories play important roles, where people relate to a building in both the past and the present, where the connections of physical, mental and social space are reflected.

New, functioning solutions can be created in making both temporary and permanent decisions by bearing in mind all of the following aspects or guidelines.

Begin on a broad scale or, in other words, relate to the context both temporally and spatially, and continue onward in the direction of details. And, vice versa, begin with tiny details to arrive step by step at spatial solutions. These are equivalent approaches.

The cleaning out of important physical (and spiritual) strata can serve as the basis for making future choices: as the result of the removal of secondary details, the cleaning of the layer of patina or the partial demolition of the building. Threat, confusion and chaos are parts of the distinct nature of a place. If they are ignored, it can turn out that clean-up is a destructive activity. Cleaning is as important as designing.

SUMMARY 199 The added details are material qualities that are expressed in the distinctive ‘architectural language’ of the interveners. The added improvements become layers, between which a certain synthesis should start to function.

Financial opportunities, or the lack of them, form an important point of departure in both the realisation and management of ideas (for instance, the number of cubic metres that are to be heated), from which sensible solutions can develop; for example, it is natural to feel cold in certain situations.

Buildings are designed for what is needed and it is complicated or even impossible to design a building for endless changes. Acci- dentally produced surplus can be reused but it is not possible to determine the surplus in advance (and nobody will pay for it). In conclusion, this research goes beyond the modernist axiom ‘form follows function’ and relates to the contemporary situation in which function can follow form. This means that architectural conditions create a pattern of opportunities for the re-use of buildings more broadly. If some dimensions are larger than are usually necessary, such as height, width, cubic measure or floor space, this makes it possible to re-purpose a building, for example serving smaller or larger numbers of people. Also, openness, flexible plans and high ceilings play important roles in public space reuse. The building’s orientation and lighting (natural light needed and/or artificial light preferred) and the location (regional accessibility via major roads and/or highways) are characteristics that determine the nature of the recovery.209 It is important that these buildings are put to use again but with extensive leeway; otherwise, they will not be reused at all.

Looking at them more broadly, buildings have their own social lives. The situation in which a building was created is reflected, as architecture always reflects the present time. It is a cultural stratum. These buildings are valuable not only because of their architectural or physical dimensions but because of the different semantic fields of meaning that they have accumulated and hidden in themselves. They are cross-sections of culture and from this viewpoint are very important.

But how can these abandoned valuable buildings be brought to life and who should do it?

209 K. Kohlstedt, Ghost Boxes: Reusing Abandoned Big-Box Superstores Across America, http://99percentinvisible.org/article/ghost-boxes-reusing-abandoned-big-box-superstores-across- america/ (accessed 20 April 2016).

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 200 Where is it possible to find the synergy and will to provide the means for revitalising these buildings? This is a complex modelling task; all cases are different, although they may have similar problems and solutions. They are situated in concrete locations and there are specific conditions that affect the entire process. The point of preservation is that the form has accumulated something valuable per se: the work of the architect and the culture behind the architect. Some buildings should be highlighted and kept as they are. They form oases, time capsules, and they speak to us of different principles of logic, of how the buildings and spaces were constructed and what they meant to people.

Modern architectural culture is not something widely appreciated; the lack of knowledge of 20th century architecture (especially post- war modernism) is extensive and therefore it must be constantly explained. A great deal has to be discussed regarding these themes. The process of living in a city should be taught in schools, beginning at a young age, including the values of modernism. ‘Buildings that become part of collective heritage are listed or written into history, and must make people feel that they are ‘theirs’ and belong in the inheriting community, i.e. these buildings belong to them.’ 210

To sum it up: The built environment is particularly important in terms of spatial use. Re-purposing derelict spaces and buildings can shape local communities, as users take the leading role in the ongoing aims of the re-vitalisation process. The role and potential of spatial interventions are significant in creating intermediate usefulness. Activating the space helps to ‘domesticate’ it, and create common ground, which is the basic platform for real solutions and realisations in the future.

It is important to discover the tangible and intangible spatial values of abandoned buildings and amplify these in the functional re-purposing process in a way that the space can influence the behaviour of people. However, one must take into account that people themselves influence space, so it is important to leave enough ‘space’ for this purpose, which means maintaining a certain flexibility in space while designing.

210 T. Ojari, Architecture for People Who Can Manage Without It? 13th Venice Architecture Biennale Common Ground. – Estonian Art 2012, no. 1/2, p. 42.

SUMMARY 201

KOKKUVÕTE

Ruumi ümbermõtestamine: ruumilise sekkumise roll ja järelmõju

Ruumi muutumine ja veelgi enam ruumiline sekkumine on mind huvitanud viimased viisteist aastat nii ruumipraktikuna, st praktiseeriva sisearhitektina kui kunstniku ja inimesena. Hüljatud paikade ajutine elustamine on inspireeriv piiridel kõndimine kusagil kavandamise ja realiseerimise vahepeal. See ei ole tahe midagi olemasolevat tingimata teisendada, vaid on pigem püüe tuua esile ruumilisi suhteid, mis seni on varjatuks jäänud.

 Fig 96: A facade in Rozendaalken Street, Ghent 2017. 203 Loomepõhise uurimise käigus on rahvusvahelise kontekstiga suhes- tumine ärgitanud mind tõmbama paralleele ja analüüsima võima- likke lähenemisviise praktilise õppe- ja õpetamistegevuse jooksul mitmetes ülikoolides. Need tänuväärsed kogemused ja kontaktid on andnud mulle võimaluse (kaas)kureerida rahvusvahelist sisearhitektuuri sümpoosioni SISU koostöös Eesti Sisearhitektide Liidu ja Eesti Kunstiakadeemia sisearhitektuuri osakonnaga. Tihedaks kok- kupuutepunktiks kolleegide ja üliõpilaste vahel kujunenud sünd- mus on aidanud kujundada minu professionaalseid tõekspidamisi ja vaatenurki nii uurimisprotsessis kui -meetodites. Diskussiooni käivitamine sisearhitektuuri kui eriala olemuse üle tänapäevases muutuvas maailmas on julgustanud mind koostööle praktikute ja õppejõududega Euroopa Sisearhitektide Liidu juhatuses [ECIA], kus üheks oluliseks teemaks on erialase hariduse edendamine. Milline on teooria ja praktika dünaamika sisearhitektuuris? Töötades täna- päevases kompleksses ehitusprotsessis füüsilise ruumiga, kaob emotsionaalne tunnetus ja vastupidi – vaid mentaalsele ruumile kesken- dudes võivad jääda lahendamata ruumi funktsionaalsed, praktilised vajadused. Eestis on pikaajaline sisearhitektuuri haridus ja praktika olnud traditsiooniliselt keskendunud füüsilise ruumile. Üleliigseks muutunud hüljatud hoonete taaselustamise käigus ruumide funktsionaalsel ümbermõtestamisel on oluline suunata fookus füüsilise ruumiga paralleelselt just emotsionaalsele ja sotsiaalsele ruumile, et muuta arhitektuurne ruum selle otseses mõttes kohtumispaigaks. Suunata inimesi huvituma ruumist, julgustada neid ruumi kasutama ehk teisisõnu suhestuma ümbritseva mitmekihilise kontekstiga. Eri- nevalt isetekkelisest ruumikasutusest võimaldab erialaülene lähe- nemisviis häälestuda potentsiaalsete kasutajatega samale lainele, et avastada võimalikult mitmekihilist ruumilist mõtteviisi.

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 204 1. KONTEKST – LÄHTEKOHAD JA UURIMISKÜSIMUSED

Käesoleva uurimuse lähtekoht on luua mudeleid professionaalse ruumilise sekkumise mõiste laiendamiseks nii installatiivsel kui performatiivsel moel. Loomepõhine uurimus avastab juhtumiuuringute näitel ruumi aktiveerimise võimalusi ja kujundab ruumilise sekkumise taktikaid, fokusseerides füüsilise ruumiga paralleelselt mentaalse ja sotsiaalse ruumi kihistustele. Uurimus järgib fenomenoloogilise tunnetuse meetodeid, et ümber mõtestada kasutuseta hooneid, mis taaselustatakse (varem või hiljem) piirkonna gentrifikatsiooni kui linnauuendusliku protsessi tulemusena.

Kaasaegses muutlikus maailmas seisab suur osa ajaloolisi tööstus- hooneid, kirikuid, koolimaju, taluhooneid jm tühjalt ning kasutuseta. Vähesed neist teisenevad ümberehituse käigus noobliteks elamuteks, kontoriteks, teatriteks, restoranideks, spordisaalideks. Toimub hoone või koguni piirkonna taaselustamine, see omakorda viib piirkonna gentrifitseerumiseni. Seesugune sisu ja vormi vastuolude atraktiivne ja tihe kooslus intrigeerib mind. Tänaste poliitiliste, sotsiaalsete ja majanduslike muutuste pinnal on teema aktuaalne nii rahvusvahe- listel arhitektuuri- ja kunstibiennaalidel kui ka üliõpilaste töötuba- des ja näitustel, kus püstitatakse küsimusi ja käsitletakse hoonete ümbermõtestamise mitmekesiseid vaatenurki ning lähenemisviise Eestis, Euroopas ja kogu maailmas. Kuidas peegelduvad arhitektuur- sed väärtused ruumi pidevalt muutuvas kasutuses? Pean oluliseks tegevussuunda, milles täna üleliigsed hooned, endised arhitektuur- sed maamärgid, leiaksid uue funktsiooni ja jätkusuutliku kasutuse. Ajaloolistel hoonetel, millel on aja jooksul kogunenud emotsionaal- set kihistust, on eeldusi toimida uues funktsioonis isegi paremini kui selleks loodud uhiuuetel ehitistel.

Sisearhitektuurse ruumiprojekti koostamise puhul on emotsionaalne ja pragmaatiline lähenemine pöördvõrdelises suhtes. Sisearhitektina huvitun ruumi mõjust inimestele ning inimeste mõjust ruumile, ehk teisisõnu, kuidas on võimalik füüsilise ruumi abil suunata inimeste käitumist ning mil moel inimene ise mõjutab ruumi atmosfääri. Minu ruumilised sekkumised keskenduvad mineviku (st hoonete) ja tuleviku (st kasutajate) vaheliste seoste otsingutele, väärtustades nii ruumilisi kihistusi kui inimlikke käitumismustreid, et leida nende võimalikke koos- ja vastastikmõjusid. Käesolev uurimus on seega ajendatud järgnevast probleemistikust:

KOKKUVÕTE 205 a) Ruum ja ümbermõtestamine. Huvitun ruumimetamorfoosi küsi- mustest, mis kerkivad üles ruumi funktsionaalsel ümbermõtestamisel. Minu motivatsiooniks kujunes ruumilise keskkonna ja selle kasutaja ootuste terviklik sidumine, tähendab toimiva sotsiaalse kaasatuse otsimine, mis hõlmaks säästlikku ruumikasutust jätkusuutlikul moel, innovatiivset lähenemisviisi ja inimkeskset disaini. Toetudes isiklikule emotsionaalsele tunnetusele olen juurelnud vanade majade olemuse üle, neid esteetilistel põhjustel nii armastanud kui vihanud. Kellele on vaja vana maja? (Vanus on siinkohal muidugi suhteline.) Millal muutub ajahambast puretud hoone haletsusväärne seisund poeetiliseks ning väärib tähelepanu, säilitamist, kohandamist, või siis vastupidi – lausa nõuab enda arvelt lisaruumi uuele arhitektuurile? Kuidas ära tunda seda miskit, mida nimetatakse väärtuslikuks detailiks? Kuidas minna konserveerimisest edasi loominguliselt ja innovatiivselt, ent siiski tundlikult? Uusehitiste massiivne tulv viimase ehitusbuumi ajal oli ootamatu, tõstatades sellele järgnenud majanduskriisi saabudes terava küsimuse: miks uusehitis on parem kui vana või kas eelistada vana hoonet uuele? Siit on ajendatud ka minu huvi hüljatud hoonete kasutamisviiside ja kogukonna kaasamise probleemistiku vastu. Ruum ei ole siiski midagi lõplikku, vaid see projekteeritakse, ehitakse valmis ning see muutub ajas pidevalt koos inimestega – nende natuurist, kul- tuuriruumist ja ruumi kasutamise iseloomust tulenevate vajadustega. Sellest lähtuvalt on Mies van der Rohe avatud ruumiplaneeringuga majad head näited paindlikest metamorfoosidest ehk teisenemistest ruumi otstarbe muutudes, kus selle vabaplaneeringut on võimalik muuta. Mõistagi annab paindlik kasutamisviis uutele inimestele või- maluse ruumi / hoonega kohaneda, kui kohandada seda vastavalt oma vajadustele kogu tema füüsilise eksistentsi vältel.

Ruumi (taas)kasutust ja aktiveerimise sotsiaalset aspekti on käesoleva kümnendi Veneetsia arhitektuuribiennaalidel kui maailma arhitektuuri tippsündmustel laiahaardeliselt käsitletud. Temaatika on ulatunud ehitatud keskkonna arhitektuurikriitikast selle loojate ja kasutajate vastas- tikmõjudeni, liikudes poeetilistest ruumiinstallatsioonidest (Kazuyo Sejima kureeritud 2010. aasta biennaal “People Meet in Architecture”) inimliku ühisosa otsinguteni (David Chipperfieldi kureeritud “Common Ground“ 2012. aastal)”. 15. Veneetsia arhitektuuribiennaaliga “Reporting from the Front” (2016) püüdis kuraator, Tšiili arhitekt Alejandro Aravena täita tühimikku, mis valitseb edevate arhitektuursete lahenduste ja koda- nikuühiskonna vahel, kutsudes arhitekte biennaalil pühenduma arhitektuuri piiride laiendamisele ja pakkuma vastuseid ühiskonna ootustele.1

1 Alejandro Aravena Appointed Director of the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. – BBC News 18.07.2015, http://www.archdaily.com/770446/alejandro-aravena-appointed-director-of-the- 2016-venice-architecture-biennale/ (vaadatud 08.11.2016).

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 206 b) Ruum ja gentrifikatsioon. Gentrifikatsioon sotsiaalteadusliku mõis- tena võimaldab uurimust kontekstualiseerida distsipliiniüleselt. Gent- rifikatsiooni seostatakse põhiliselt inimeste liikumisega, mida võib vaadelda kui linnaehituslikku ilmingut (tööstus)hoonete taaskasutusest eluruumide funktsioonis. Gentrifikatsioon kui protsess on ruumilise keskkonna muutuste intensiivistaja: piirkonna areng kergitab eluaseme ruutmeetri hindu, elanikkond vahetub ning kaob algne aura, mis on inspireerinud kogukonnas isetekkelist initsiatiivi ja loomingulisi aren- guid. Korrastatud hoonetes kipuvad nähtamatud ruumilised väärtu- sed kaduma minema. Kaasaegse pragmaatilise (sise)arhitektuurse projekteerimise ja ruumi funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamise käigus ignoreeritakse sageli arhitektuursete ja ruumiliste väärtuste rolli ehk teisisõnu unustatakse kohaspetsiifilised nüansid. Sisearhitektina on just siit tõukunud minu huvi selle vastu, kuidas suhestuda ruumi- ja materjalikasutusega jätkusuutlikumal moel, eirates turunõudluse ede- vaid lahendusi. Uurimistöö selline fookus on tingitud minu isiklikust kokkupuutest gentrifikatsiooni ilmingutega sisearhitektuuri praktikas.

Gentrifikatsiooni mõistega tähistatakse allakäinud urbanistliku keskkonna uuenemist jõukama keskklassi “imbumise” näol töölisklassi elurajoonidesse ning sealsete asukate vaikset väljatõrjumist, nagu selle nähtuse on sõnastanud Ruth Glass juba 1960. aastatel Londo- nis.2 Eestis kerkisid gentrifikatsiooni ilmingud esile taasiseseisvumise järel seoses omandisuhete muutumisega riiklikust omandist eraoman- diks. Erineva majandusliku ja kultuurilise taustaga inimeste kihistumine väljendus Eestis ka urbanistliku elulaadi muutustes – põnevad arengud käivitusid nii Tallinna Kalamajas kui Tartu Supilinnas. Gent- rifikatsioon on siinses kontekstis omandanud mastaapsed mõõtmed viimaste aastate tööstusarhitektuuri transformeerumise näitel Tallinnas Kultuurikatlas, Telliskivi Loomelinnakus, Rotermanni, Lutheri, Baltika ning Noblessneri kvartalites – sarnaselt paljude analoogsete nähtus- tega kõikjal maailmas, kus ajaloolised tööstus- või elurajoonid saavad uue hingamise. Arengute tulemuseks on uuendatud (elamu)piirkonnad, mis põhinevad hoonestuse iseloomulikel ajaloolistel väärtustel. Gentrifikatsiooni hoogustumise jooksul on aga selgunud, et arendatav ruumiline keskkond ei suhestu enam olemasoleva elanikkonnaga ja nähtus genereerib piirkonnas elanikkonna vahetumist. Siit lähtuvalt huvitun, kas ja kuidas on võimalik liita ühtseks tervikuks eri aegade kihistused (valitud) hüljatud hoones ja selle konkreetses kontekstis, mis ühtlasi kõnetaksid jätkuvalt tänapäeva inimest kui kasutajat ning aitaksid kaasa võimalike uute toimivate sündmuste loomisele, uute traditsioonide tekkele. Mil viisil saab soodustada kadunud traditsioonide

2 R. Glass, London: Aspects of Change. London: MacGibbon & Kee, 1964.

KOKKUVÕTE 207 asendumist uute tavadega, mis mõtestaksid ajalooliste hoonete väärika kasutamise püsival, elutervel ning tulusal moel ühtviisi nii indiviidi kui ka kogukonna tasandil. Kogukonna all mõistan ma erineva suhtumi- sega inimesi, tulenevalt nende kultuurilisest ja majanduslikust taustast, vanusest ja iseloomust. Hoonetesse suhtumise muutumine on märgatav koos ühiskonnakorra muutumisega: nii nõukogudeaegse kollektivismi asendudes kapitalismile omase individualismiga Eesti taasiseseisvumise perioodil kui ka vastupidise tendentsina demokraatliku kogu- kondliku ühistegevuse tärkamise näol hiljutise majanduskriisi järel.

c) Ruum ja vorm. Laiem huvi hoonete funktsioonimuutuste vastu lähtub kriitilistest aruteludest ruumilise keskkonna ühiskondlike valupunktide üle, mis tähendab ühtlasi arhitektuuri puhta vormina käsitlemisest loobumist, millele innovatiivse keskkonna loomisel on sageli keskendutud. Vastupidiselt meedias võimendunud arhi- tektuurikäsitlusele on näiteks Kenneth Frampton oma kirjutistes kritiseerinud hoonete käsitlemist efektse kujundi või kaubana. Ta rõhutab arhitektuuri ühiskondlikku vastutust ning väärtustab koha erilisust vastukaaluks globaliseerumisega kaasnevale sarnastumi- sele, pidades ruumilise keskonna loomisel oluliseks tundlikkust ja suhestumist nii kohaliku looduse kui ka kliimast tulenevate inimlike vajadustega. Samuti on arhitektuuri ühiskondliku rolli puhul oluline kultuuriline jätkusuutlikkus.3

Eelnevast lähtuvalt olen võtnud vaatluse alla järgmised küsimused:

Kuidas leida hoone funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamise tulemusena parim võimalik interaktsioon kaasaegse kasutaja ja ajaloolise hoone vahel?

Mida pidada silmas, kui rääkida arhitektuursetest ja ruumilistest väärtustest?

Väidan, et ajalooliste hoonete puhul on kaitstud muinsuskaitse eri- tingimustega vaid hoone füüsiline substants, kuid väärtustamata on immateriaalsed väärtused. Sageli puudub hüljatud hoonete ümber- mõtestamise protsessis kontakt tegelike kasutajatega. Keskendun oma väitekirjas ruumilise sekkumise mõiste laiendamisele ja katse- tan ruumipraktikuna lähenemisviise ja taktikaid, mis võimaldaksid üles leida ja esile tuua ruumilisi omadusi, et väärtustada ehitatud keskkonnas varjatuks jäänud mentaalset ja sotsiaalset ruumitasandit.

3 K. Frampton, Towards Critical Regionalism: Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance. – Postmodern Culture. Ed. H. Foster. London: Pluto Press, 1985, lk 16–30.

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 208 2. TEOREETILINE RAAMISTUS

Ehitatud keskkonnas eristuvad ruumilised väärtused, miks inimesed neid kohti hindavad. Teatud paigad tõmbavad inimesi ligi, arhitektuur ja kogu ruumiline keskkond muudab need kohad kohtumispaikadeks, kus on meeldiv viibida. Lähemal vaatlusel joonistuvad neis paikades välja jõujooned, mis sisaldavad potentsiaali aktiivseks kasutuseks ja eluks.

TEOORIAST JA PRAKTIKAST SISEARHITEKTUURIS

Väitekirja teoreetilise raamistiku osa hõlmab kaasaegsete teoreetikute vaatenurki sisearhitektuuri eriala ambivalentse olemuse üle meie tänases kiirete muutuste maailmas. Euroopa Sisearhitektide Ühendus [ECIA] on koostanud Hariduse Harta4, mis vastavalt Bolog- na deklaratsioonile (1999) on kooskõlas rahvusvaheliste stan- dardite ja kokkulepetega, et piiritleda sisearhitektuuri kui profes- siooni olemust, hariduse taset ja suunata õppekavade arendamist ülikoolides. Aruteludes teooria ja praktika seostest sisearhitektuu- ris5 on kujunenud seisukoht, et erialal puudub selgelt defineeri- tud teoreetiline taust; eriala olemuslik võlu peitub avatuses, reeg- lite puudumises ja mitmetimõistetavuses. Graeme Brookeri sõnul saab ruumist mõelda, siseruumi luua ja kasutada lõputult erinevalt, tekib nn ruumigeograafia, mis lubab kasutusviisi tõlgendada väga mitmesugusel moel6 – üha enam hägustub piir siseruumi ja linnaruumi vahel, kas või jalakäijate tunnelite ja kaubanduskeskuste näol. Suzie Attiwilli järgi on sisearhitektuur/ruumikujundus seotud inimese igapäevaeluga, millest tulenevalt on muutused ja variat- sioonid olulised. Universaalsete lahenduste leidmise asemel toe- tatakse protsesse, kus iga situatsiooni käsitletakse uuena.7 Eriala on määratletud pigem praktika kaudu, kus mõtlemine ja õppimine toimub läbi tegemise [thinking through doing]. Siinkohal on oluline roll sisearhitekti isiklikul taustal ja ruumikogemusel, mille pinnalt kasvab välja ruumiloome ja tõlgendus.

4 Charter. European Council of Interior Architects, https://ecia.net/education/charter/ (vaadatud 21.02.2017. 5 SISU rahvusvahelised sisearhitektuuri sümpoosionid Tallinnas 2014–2016. 6 G. Brooker, The Interior Condition: Impact and Agency. – SISU–LINE 2016, no. 2, lk 31–32. 7 S. Attiwill, Practical Philosophy. – SISU–LINE 2015, no. 1, lk 46.

KOKKUVÕTE 209 LOOMEMEETODID

Ehitatud keskkonnas eristuvad ruumilised väärtused, miks inimesed neid kohti hindavad. Teatud paigad tõmbavad ligi, arhitektuur ja kogu ruumiline keskkond muudab need kohad kohtumispaikadeks, kus inimestele meeldib viibida. Lähemal vaatlusel joonistuvad seal välja ka jõujooned, mis sisaldavad potentsiaali aktiivseks kasutuseks ja eluks. Huvitun siinkohal kaasaegse inimese ja ajaloolise hüljatud hoone (ruumi) omavahelisest suhestumisest füüsilisel, mentaalsel ja sotsiaalsel tasandil.

Siit on välja kasvanud minu loomemeetod – kohaspetsiifilised näitu- seprojektid ehk kriitilised ruumipraktikad. Need juhtumiuuringutes käsitletud projektid kujunesid omalaadseteks aktsioonideks, olid suu- natud hoone arhitektuurse vormi terviklikkuse ja ruumi olemuse mit- mekülgsuse tajumisele, peidetud kihistuste kogemisele ja kogemuste rakendamisele. Kihistuste esiletoomine on oluline samm nähtamatute ruumiliste väärtuste ärakasutamisel või edasikandmisel sisearhitektuuris ruumi funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamse protsessis – seega viis, kuidas inimesed kogevad ja mõistavad maailma, luues ruumikohale tähenduse. Nimetan seda kriitiliseks ruumipraktikaks (vt peatükk 4.–6.).

MITMEKIHILINE RUUM

Ruumi defineerin oma sisearhitekti praktika põhjal eelkõige kui siseruumi, mis on fenomenoloogiliselt tajutav inimese viie meelega. Käesolev peatükk loob historiograafilise tausta 20. sajandi ruumi- valdkonna oluliste teoreetikute abil, mis aitab ühtlasi positsionee- rida käesolevat uurimust. Filosoofiline ja fenomenoloogiline ruumi- käsitlus hakkas laiemalt levima 1960. aastatel pärast mitmete oluliste ruumifilosoofiliste teoste tõlkimist inglise keelde.

Gaston Bachelard’i “The Poetics of Space” [Ruumipoeetika] (originaalis ilmunud 1958) omistas inimese isiklikele kogemustele ja mälu- salvestustele olulist tunnetuslikku tähendust, mis mõjutab tulevasi elamusi ja kogemusi nii endast kui ümbritsevast ruumilisest keskkon- nast. Otto Friedrich Bollnowi “Human Space” [Inimese ruum] (originaalis ilmunud 1963) uurib ruumikogemust inimeste elamisviiside põhjal. Maurice Merleau-Ponty peatükile ruumist raamatus “Pheno- menology of Perception” [Taju fenomenoloogia] (originaalis ilmunud 1945) järgnes Martin Heideggeri “Being and Time” [Olemine ja aeg] (originaalis ilmunud 1927), mis väärtustab inimese sotsiaalset seotust teistega. Christian Norberg-Schulz lähtub oma raamatus “Existence,

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 210 Space and Architecture” [Olemine, ruum ja arhitektuur] (1971) viiest ruumikontseptsioonist: pragmaatiline ruum (aitab indiviidil tajuda ümbritsevat keskkonda), pertseptiivne ehk tajutav ruum (kujundab identiteeti ja võimaldab vahetut kogemust), eksistentsiaalne ruum (seob inimese sotsiaalsete ja kultuuriliste struktuuridega), kogemus- lik ruum (võimaldab mõelda ruumi üle) ja abstraktne ruum (pakub vahendeid erinevate ruumitasandite tajuks).8

Kaasaegne kriitiline ruumipraktika lähtub paljuski Henri Lefebvre’i ruumikäsitlusest ja tema raamatust “La Production de l’Espace” [Ruumi tootmine] (1974), mille järgi ruum ei ole tühi mahuti, kus paiknevad nii asjad kui inimesed, vaid pigem dünaamiline ja voolav, ühiskondli- kult tingitud ajalis-ruumiline nähtus, mis inimtegevuse tulemusena end ise taastoodab.9 Füüsilise (reaalse elukeskkonna) ja mentaalse (kujut- letud, kavandatud) ruumi kõrval tõuseb oluliseks just sotsiaalne ruum inimeste omavahelise suhtlemise paigana. Seega on ruumi lahutama- tuks komponendiks inimesed kui asukad, kes on samuti reaalse ruumi loojad. Kui Lefebvre seob oma arusaama ruumipraktikatest olemasoleva sotsiaalse ruumi taastootmisega, siis Michel de Certeau tõstab teoses “L’invention du quotien, I Arts de faire” [Igapäevased praktikad. I Tegemiskunstid] (1990) esile praktikate individuaalsuse ja sõltuvuse konkreetse inimese motiividest. Certeau sõnul mängib siin rolli taktika, mis sõltub juba konkreetse inimese huvidest, allumata ametlikele stra- teegilistele praktikatele. Certeau iseloomustab kohta korra abil, millele on omane omandi stabiilsus, kuid ruumi seevastu peab ta muutuvaks, kuna sellel puudub “omandi” ühetähenduslikkus.10

Tuntuimad ruumifenomenoloogiast kirjutajad kaasaja arhitektuu- riteoorias on arhitektid Juhani Pallasmaa ja Peter Zumthor. Pallas- maa iseloomustab kokkupuudet arhitektuuriga kui multisensoorset kogemust: ruumi omadused, materiaalsus ja suurus on kogetav võrd- selt nii silma, kõrva, nina, naha, keele kui lihastega. Kõik meeled on kompimismeele pikendused, ka nägemine, sest pilk vaid kinnitab seda, mida nahk tunneb. Silm eristab distantsilt puudutuse intiimset kogemust.11 Zumthor laiendab oma raamatus “Atmospheres” [Atmo- sfäärid] (2006) väärtarhitektuuri mõistet tundlike nüansside, koge- musliku praktika kaudu.

8 C. Norberg-Schulz, Existence, Space and Architecture. New York, Washington: Praeger Publishers, 1971, lk 11. 9 H. Lefebvre, The Production of Space. Trans. D. Nicholson-Smith. Oxford, Cambridge: Blackwell, 2012. 10 M. de Certeau, Igapäevased praktikad, I. Tegemiskunstid. Tõlk M. Lepikult. Tartu: Tartu Ülikooli Kirjastus, 2005, lk 179–180. 11 J. Pallasmaa. The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses. Chichester: Wiley, 2005, lk 40–49.

KOKKUVÕTE 211 Kohatundlikkuse kui tähtsa inimliku oskuse üle arhitektuuris on arutlenud Leon van Schaik raamatus “Spatial Intelligence” [Ruumi- line intelligentsus] (2008). Ruumiline intelligentsus annab võime olla loominguline ja lahendada probleeme viisil, mis on väärtusta- tud kohalikus kultuurikontekstis.

Eestis ilmusid olulised ruumiteoreetilised väljaanded 1990. aastatel, nagu Kaia Lehari “Ruum. Keskkond. Koht” (1997), ja alates aastast 2000 hakkas Eesti Kunstiakadeemia publitseerima väljaannet “Place and Location” [Koht ja paik], kus esineb laiaulatuslik autorite skaala.

2000. aastatel levis uus termin “kriitiline ruumipraktika” (Jane Ren- dell, 2003), mis asetab rõhu mitte niivõrd sõnale “kriitiline”, kuivõrd osutab pigem ruumile, tegeldes spetsiaalsete ruumiaspektidega erialaülestes protsessides ja praktikates, mis jäävad arhitektuuri ja kunsti piirimaile.12 Näiteks Markus Miesseni ja Nicolaus Hirschi toimetatud raamatuseeria “Critical Spatial Practice” [Kriitiline ruumipraktika] (2011) keskendub küsimustele, kuidas ruumi ja tegevust ruumis võib tõlgendada poliitilise keskkonnana.

RUUMILISED VÄÄRTUSED JA UUENDAMINE

Kaasaegne muinsuskaitse teooria ja praktika, keskkonna eripära ja väärtuste säilitamine tugineb ajalooliste hoonete puhul suuresti Alois Riegli 19. sajandi filosoofilistele arutlustele ajalooliste väär- tuste mõistest. Riegl otsis vastust probleemistikule, kuidas definee- rida mälestise kunstilist ja ajaloolist väärtust ning mõtestada mäles- tamise ja säilitamise paratamatuid vastuolusid. Tema sõnul ei saa moodne vaataja esteetilist rahuldust mitte teose heast säilivusest, vaid järjekindlast ja lakkamatust muutumisest.13 Riegli väärtusteoo- riat on laiendanud kaasaegne konservaator Barbara Appelbaum, kes toob esile mitmekesise ja mitmetähendusliku väärtuste skaala ning nende iseloomust tuleneva erineva mõju restaureerimisele: kunsti- ehk kultuuriväärtus, esteetiline väärtus, ajalooline väärtus, kasutus- väärtus ja sentimentaalne väärtus, uurimisväärtus, hariduslik väärtus, ajaväärtus, uueväärtus, turuväärtus, seostuv väärtus, memoriaalväär- tus kui haruldus.14

12 J. Rendell, Art and Architecture: A Place Between, London: IB Tauris, 2006. 13 A. Riegl, The Modern Culture of Monuments: Its Essence and Its Development [1903]. – Historical and Philosophical Issues in the Conservation of Cultural Heritage. Eds. N. S. Price, M. Kirby Talley Jr., A. Melucco Vaccaro. Los Angeles: The Getty Conservation Institute, 1996, lk 69. 14 B. Appelbaum, Conservation Treatment Methodology. Oxford: Butterworth-Heinemann, 2007, lk 89–114.

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 212 Kuidas mõista ja käsitleda mitmekihilist väärtuste süsteemi ja mõtes- tada ajalooliste hoonete säilitamist ja uuendamist, raamistab ajalooliste hartade reguleeriv süsteem. Veneetsia Harta (1964)15 ülesandeks sai pidurdada uuenduste käigus sõdadejärgse maailma liiga kerge- käelist loobumist minevikust. Harta sõnastas konserveerimise põhi- tõed, millest lähtuda ka täna: näiteks ajaloo moonutamise vältimiseks tuleb loobuda kopeerimisest ning säilitada algse meistri kätetööd võimalikult autentselt, uus peab aga kandma oma aja vaimu. Harta väärtustas ansamblite terviklikkust ja mälestise kontekstuaalseid seo- seid ajalooga. Itaalia restaureerimisteoreetiku Cesare Brandi teooria16 on olnud aluseks Veneetsia harta koostamisel. Ehkki mälestiste eri lii- kidest tulenevalt on hiljemgi vastu võetud väga mitmeid kitsamatele valdkondadele kontsentreeruvaid hartasid: ajaloolisi parke kaitsev Firenze Harta (1981), linnaehitust käsitlev Washingtoni Harta (1987) ning hilisem Nara Dokument (1994), mis laiendab muinsuskaitse materiaalset pärandit ka vaimsele pärandile, andes autentsusele palju laiema tähenduse. Kultuuripärandi autentsuse üle otsustami- sel on soovitav uurida selle disaini, materjale ja ka funktsiooni, mis võivad omakorda lisada sellele ajaloolist ja sotsiaalset mõõdet. Nara Dokument väärtustab uuringute ja arengute rolli, mõistmaks erinevate kultuuride olemust autentsuse käsitlemisel.17 Mateeriale lisaks tuleb märksa enam tähelepanu pöörata traditsioonidele ja pärandi tähendusele. Paljudes kultuurides on ehitamine kui protsess valmi- vast ehitisest väärtuslikum. Lähtuvalt meie kultuurikontekstist on näi- teks konstruktiivselt välja töötatud “Eesti kultuuripärandi hoidmise ja väärtustamise arengukava aastani 2030” koostamise ettepanek.18

RUUMI GENTRIFITSEERIMINE

Gentrifikatsiooni uurimisel on mitmeid teoreetilisi lähenemisviise: demograafilis-ökoloogiline, sotsiokultuuriline, poliitmajanduslik,

15 Malestiste ja ajalooliste paikade konserveerimise ja restaureerimise rahvusvaheline harta, Ajaloomalestiste arhitektide ja tehnikateadlaste II rahvusvaheline kongress ICOMOS võttis selle tegevuse aluseks (1965). 16 “Seda teooriat süüdistati tähelepanu asetamises “kujundi” (“image”) konserveerimisele- restaureerimisle, jättes nii hooletusse üldise strukturaalse kontseptsiooni (eriti arhitektuuri puhul). Brandi teooriat on käsitletud rohkem kui maalirestaureerimisteooriat, kuigi oma kirjutistes viitab ta tihti just arhitektuurile.” (H. Hiiop, Cesare Brandi restaureerimisest. Loeng Eesti Kunstiakadeemias 20.10.2014. Autori märkmed). 17 Nara Document of Authenticity. ICOMOS, http://www.reed.edu/art/rhyne/papers/first.html/ (vaadatud 20 April 2017). 18 Eesti kultuuriparandi hoidmise ja värtustamise arengukava aastani 2030. Koostamise ettepanek, https://www.riigikantselei.ee/valitsus/valitsus/et/valitsus/arengukavad/arengukavade- koostamise-ettepanekud/kultuurip_randi_arengukava_ettepanek.pdf/ (vaadatud 08.11.2016).

KOKKUVÕTE 213 keskkonnavõrgustikukeskne, sotsiaalsete liikumiste keskne.19 Kasutusel on kaks peamist lähenemisviisi: majanduslik/tootmis- keskne ja kultuuriline/tarbimise- ja elustiilikeskne.20 Ka on uuri- tud vanusest, soost, seksuaaleelistustest, rahvusest ja rassist tule- nevaid mõjusid gentrifikatsioonile. Tänaseks on gentrifikatsioon globaalne nähtus, mis levis 1950ndatel USA kirdeosast Lääne-Eu- roopa linnadesse ja Austraaliasse, on läbi teinud suuri muutusi nii tegelikkuses kui uurimises ja on kokku võetud “lainetena”. Nüüd- seks nimetatakse „esimese laine gentrifikatsiooniks” 1970. aastate alguse majanduslanguse perioodi, mil alainvesteeritud kesklinna piirkonnad muutusid investeeringute sihiks, gentrifitseerujad olid loomeinimesed (soodsa ruutmeetrihinna tõttu). Järgnes „teise laine gentrifikatsioon“ majanduse tõusuga seitsmekümnendate lõpus, kus gentrifitseerujateks oli nn uus keskklass. 1990. aastatel ilmnes „kolmas laine“, mille harjal toimus korduvalt finantskapi- tali investeering, gentrifitseerujateks oli eliit ja kus omavalitsused hakkasid osalema protsessis.21 “Neljanda laine gentrifikatsioonist” räägitakse näiteks New Orleansi orkaanipurustuste ja USA eluase- meprogrammi HOPE IV näitel.22

Eesti eripära ses protsessis saab vaadelda lähiajaloo kontekstis, mida iseloomustavad demograafilised muutused ning sotsialismiajastu turu reguleeriva rolli puudumine. Taasiseseisvumisega Eestis kaasnes eraomandi teke, majanduse reorganiseerimine, tööjõu ümberstruk- tureerimine ning elanikkonna kiire kihistumine. Postindustriaalse ajastu elamuehitus ja kinnisvaraarendajate poliitika sõltuvad aga majanduslikest faktoritest, piirkonna investeerimiskliimast ning ka Eesti miniatuursusest, mis paljusid protsesse võimendab. Oluline on siinkohal mõista siirdeühiskonna olemust möödunud sajandi viimase kümnendi jooksul ja selle mõjutegureid suletud ühiskonna piiride avanemise näol. Samuti tuleb arvestada globaalseid eeskujusid ja neis lahustumise tendentse. Näiteks linnaruumi amerikaniseeru- mine autostumise ja suurte ostukeskuste näol, mis mõjutas südalin- nade tühjenemist jalakäijatest ja pisikauplustest. Gentrifitseerumist interjööri kontekstis võib vaadelda kui teatud ajastule iseloomuliku prevaleerimist, kus peegelduvad elaniku majanduslikud võimalused, sotsiaalne taust ning kultuurikiht.

19 J. Palen, B. London, Gentrification, Displacement and Neighborhood Revitalization. Albany: SUNY Press, 1984, lk 1. 20 N. Smith, Toward a Theory of Gentrification: Back to the City Movement But Capital, Not People. – Journal of the American Planning Association 1979, no. 45(4), lk 538–548. 21 J. Hackworth, N. Smith, The Changing State of Gentrification. – Tijdschrift voor Economische en Sociale Geografie 2001, 92(4), lk 464–477. 22 L. Lees, T. Slater, E. Wyly, Gentrification, Routledge: New York, 2008, lk 185–187.

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 214 Soome naabrite puhul käivitus gentrifikatsioon 1980. aastatel, Eestis on gentrifikatsioon kui protsess teadvustunud alates üheksakümnen- datest, kuid teooriat ei ole taasiseseisvumise ajal jõudnud tekkida, gentrifikatsiooni kohalikest ilmingutest on sel sajandil valminud vaid mõningad uurimistööd. Ilmunud on uurimusi Kalamaja, Kadrioru ja Supilinna asumite kohta.23 Tähelepanu keskmes on sotsiaalkultuuri- lised muutused intervjuude ja küsitluste vahendusel, majanduslikud põhjused vajaksid statistikale tuginevaid uuringuid lisaks eelnimeta- tutele ka näiteks Viljandi kesklinnas ja Kantrekülas, Pärnu kesklinnas, Räämas ja Ülejõel, Tartu Karlovas, Tallinna vanalinnas, Uue-Maailmas, Koplis, Kassisabas ja Pelgulinnas.

3. RUUMIMETAMORFOOSID

Arhitektuur kui elav organism transformeerub pidevalt arhitektide ja ehitajate jõupingutuste tulemusena, milles kajastub ühiskonna ja kultuuri areng. Hoone elab üle oma algse otstarbe ja seejärel kasutatakse seda millekski muuks. Kuid ruumilise keskkonna muutused ei piirdu vaid ehituslike protsessidega. Samuti mõjutab inimesi installatiivne ruumiline kunst, mis tungib galeriiruumi valgest kuubist välja – linnaruumi, loodusesse.

Metamorfoos (kreeka metamorphosis) – teisenemine, kujumuutus, ümberkujundus viitab protsessile, mis on autonoomne ja sõltumatu. Selle sünonüüm on transformeerumine. Hoonete transformeeru- mist ja ruumimetamorfoose on süstematiseerinud akadeemilises võtmes Graeme Brooker ja Sally Stone raamatus “Re-readings” [Uuestilugemised] (2004), kus on luubi alla võetud võimalikud viisid ja nähtused ajalooliste hoonete ja ruumide muutustest. Raa- mat tegeleb materiaalsete nähtuste ja füüsiliste vormidega, kuid ei hõlma sotsiaalset tasandit. Sarnasel prinstiibil vaatlen oma töös valikuliselt metamorfooside kogemusi näidete abil, millega olen puutunud kokku doktoriõpingute jooksul,24 luues taustsüsteemi

23 M. Hiob, N. Nutt, S. Nurme, F de Luca, Risen from the Dead. Slumming to Gentrification. – Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences 2012, no. 36, lk 92–105;

N. Nutt, S. Nurme, S. Salmistu, M. Hiob, Gentrification in a Post-Socialist Town: The Case of the Supilinn District, Tartu, Estonia. – Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences 2013, lk 109–123. 24 Sint-Lucase arhitektuurikooli rahvusvaheline töötuba “Abandoned Sacred Places” ning Research Training Session Brüsseli ja Genti teekonnal, olles külalisteadur RMIT ülikoolis Austraalias ja Mazzano Romano residentuuris Rooma piirkonnas.

KOKKUVÕTE 215 väitekirja juhtumiuuringutele. Ajalooliste hoonete väga erinevad kasutused, vahekasutused, konserveerimisviisid ja juurdeehitused intrigeerivad mind ning loovad võimaluse avastada varjatud kihistusi. Püüan seda teemat laiendada mitmekesiste näidetega kohas- petsiifilistest projektidest, mis ajendavad või inspireerivad inimesi huvituma eksperimentidest linnaruumis ja suhestuma emotsionaal- selt reaalse koha, hoone ning ruumiga. Seesuguste näidete hulk on piiramatu, kus näiteks endisest tapamajast või sakraalsest ruumist on saanud kaasaegne sümbioos kasutaja ja tema igapäevase tegevuse näol.

Kohaspetsiifilise kunsti näited aktiveerivad kohta nii linnaruumis, looduses kui siseruumis. Kunstipraktika ja koha koosmõju tulemusena tekib tähenduslikkus. Tähendusväljadel on mõju vaid kasutaja kui teosega aktiivse suhestuja olemasolu korral. Kohta aga tuleks vaadata mitmekihilise kooslusena. 1960ndate aastate lõpus tärkas minimalismi kiiluvees kohaspetsiifiline kunst, mis tegeleb paigaga ja tõstab esile koha, millega kunstiobjekt on seotud. Kohaspetsiifi- line kunst – kui reaktsioon kaasaegse kunsti universaalsuse ja kau- bastumise vastu – soovis olla kontseptuaalne, koha ja kogukonnaga suhestuv, väärtustada protsessi, olla avalik.25

Kunstinäitusi on tavaks korraldada institutsioonides nagu galeriid ja muuseumid, kus on võimalik eksponeerida kunstiteost sobivas galeriiruumi ”valge kuubi” tingimustes – kunstnikul on võimalik luua “oma ruum”. Skulptuuride ja installatsioonide loomise aluseks on üldjuhul suhe konkreetse kohaga. Aja jooksul on väärtuslikud ajaloolised skulptuurid (ka maalid) viidud varjule muuseumidesse ja asendatud originaalid kohapeal koopiatega. Tuntuks on saanud minimalistliku skulptori Richard Serra pettunud ütlus peale oma töö ”Titled Arc” (1981) ümberpaigutamist: ”Teose liigutamine tähendab tema hävitamist”.26 Vastupidise näitena aga huvitub kontseptuaalne kunstnik Anu Vahtra oma kohaspetsiifiliste tööde asetamisest teise ruumilisse konteksti.

Sotsiaalse kunsti valdkond kasutab ühiskonnakriitilistest nähtustest ajendatud visuaalseid vahendeid. Kaasaegse kunsti üheks võtmesõ- naks on kujunenud kaasamine, kus autori roll ja tegevusväli kandub üle ka publikule, ehk teisisõnu: osalemine on muutunud oluliseks. Miwon Kwoni sõnul on kaasaegses kunstis fookus liikunud autorilt

25 M. Kwon, One Place After an Other: Site-Specific Art and Local Identity. – October 1977, vol. 80, (Spring), lk 65–110. 26 R. Serra, Letter to Donald Thalacker (1985). - The Destruction of Tilted Arc: Documents. Eds. C. Weyergraf-Serra, M. Buskirk, Cambridge: MIT Press, 1991, lk 38.

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 216 publikule.27 Seda võib nimetada ka disainiaktivismiks, mis tõstatab küsimuse ja suhtleb publikuga, kasutades disainilahendusi, kuidas osutada probleemile ning muuta ruumi varjatud kasutuspotentsiaal ”nähtavaks”. Teadaolevalt on ebamugavate situatsioonide mõistmise viisiks ”õigete” küsimuste esitamine. Kunstnik Margus Tamm analüü- sib avalikke kunstilisi aktsioone linnaruumis. Kriitilised sekkumised markeerivad ruumi haldajate ning ruumi kasutajate vahelist kokku- põrkejoont, omandades lefebvrelikult utoopilises mõõtmes võima- lusi esile kutsuda muutusi ka ühiskonnakorralduses.28

4. LOOMINGULISED JUHTUMIUURINGUD – KRIITILISED RUUMIPRAKTIKAD

Doktoritöö loominguliseks osaks on minu kriitilised ruumipraktikad ehk kohaspetsiifilised ruumiprojektid, mida esitan nii näituste kui sündmustena. Installatiivne või performatiivne ruumiline sekkuja püstitab oma näituseprojektiga küsimuse ruumi hüljatuse põhjustest ja teisenenud kasutusvõimalusest, kuid sellesama sündmuse raames ei pruugi välja pakkuda vastust. Seega on küsimise ülesanne luua pigem ambivalentne õhkkond, et leida kaasamõtlejaid, suhelda publikuga ning kaasata inimesi. Inimeste aktiveerimine kohaspetsiifiliste näituseprojektide käigus aitab alternatiivseid ideid genereerides murda tardunud seisukohti ja laiendada silmapiiri. Ruumilise sekkumise roll on luua kontakt inimeste ja institutsioonide vahel, et tekitada ühist vastutustunnet. Ruumiline muutumine elavdab kaasaja ühiskonda, kutsub taasavastama olemasolevat ja huvituma uutest paikadest. Kunstniku ja (sise)arhitekti osaks jääb eelkõige märgata ja ära kasutada hoonetes ja kohtades peituv potentsiaal. Kolme valitud juhtumi abil uurisin võimalusi, kuidas fenomenoloogiline lähenemine aitab suhestuda ja esile tuua ruumilisi väärtusi piirkonna gentrifitseerimise kontekstis.

Juhtumite valik kujunes töö käigus, et siduda käesoleva uurimu- sega erinevad võrdväärsed komponendid – enda kui praktiseeriva sisearhitekti töö (Mudaravila juhtum), rahvusvahelise loomingulise konkursi projekti kureerimine (Linnahall Veneetsia biennaalil) ja

27 M. Kwon, One Place After Another, lk 106. 28 M. Tamm, Koht ja sekkuv kunst. – Kunstiteaduslikke Uurimusi 2014, kd 23 (1–2), lk 91.

KOKKUVÕTE 217 lõpuks jõudmine oma suguvõsa põlvnemise asukohani (Paluküla kirik Hiiumaal). Keskendusin jooksvate konkursside puhul – Muda- ravila restaureerimine ja juurdeehitus (kutsutud sisearhitektuuri konkurss, 2009) ja Veneetsia 13. arhitektuuribiennaali Eesti näi- tus (avalik konkurss, 2011) – linnaruumis hüljatud hoonetele, mis omavad maamärgi rolli ruumilises keskkonnas. Mudaravila projekt realiseerus tellimustööna. Tallinna Linnahallist sai näituseobjekt Veneetsia biennaalil. Aasta hiljem sündis Paluküla kiriku elustamise kohaspetsiifiline projekt (2013), mis inspireeris oma pretensioonika neogooti arhitektuuri ja ümbritseva nõukogudeaegse, tänaseks hää- buva majanduskeskkonna vahel valitseva vastuolu tõttu.

Näituste puhul keskendusin taaselustamise mõtestamisele ja või- malustele, et kohtuda selle kohaga seotud inimestega ning ühtlasi kaasata laiemat ringi teemasse puutuvaid eksperte. Projektide üks oluline mõte on tuvastada, milline on inimeste suhe hoonega ja kuidas seda soovitud suunas nihutada. Erinevalt mudaravila positiivsest imagost, kus arendamistegevus oli juba käivitunud, vajas suhe linnahalli ja Paluküla kirikusse alles määratlemist. Fookusesse kerkisid erinevad prioriteedid. Pärnu traditsioonilise kuurortlinna vana ja kaasaegse arhitektuuri füüsiline kokkupuude rajatava juurdeehituse näol inspireeris suhtlema kasutajatega uue tervikliku sisemise ruu- milahenduse nimel. Tallinna Linnahall vajas tähelepanu ja positiivse kuvandi tekitamist sõltumata oma nõukogudeaegsest minevikust, mis aitaks kaasa hoone taastamisele olukorras, kus maja hakkab reaalselt varisemisohtlikuks muutuma. Paluküla kirik Hiiumaal aga alles ootas huvi äratamist ja potentsiaali avastamist kaasaegse kasutaja poolt: projektis kerkisid esile sakraalse ruumi mitmed võimalikud kasutus- viisid. Kõikide juhtumite puhul on olulised nii füüsiline, mentaalne (kavandatav) kui sotsiaalne ruumikiht. Näituseprojektide puhul olen eelistanud keskenduda ruumielamuslikele kogemustele, välistades tüüpilisele arhitektuurinäitusele omast lähenemisviisi planšettide näol. Huvitusin inimeste mõtetest, millest sündisid kohapeal filmi- tud intervjuud, et avastada inimeste reaalseid ootusi ühe maja näitel.

JUHTUM 1 –“RUUMILINE STOPPKAADER”, PÄRNU MUDARAVILA, 10.–13.11.2011

Pärnu mudaravila klassikalise hoone ja moodsa juurdeehituse arhitektuurne kooslus nõudis reaalse sisearhitektuurse projekteerimise käigus sidumist terviklikuks interjööriks traditsioonilises Pärnu kuu- rortlinnas. Näituseprojekt “Ruumiline stoppkaader / Spatial Snaps- hot” Pärnu mudaravilas käsitles endise arhitektuurse maamärgi kui

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 218 juba aastaid hüljatud hoone väärtusi tulevase restaureerimise ja juurdeehituse ootuses. Gentrifikatsiooni kontekstis esindab kunagise mudaravila elustamine kaasaegse spaa- ja hotellikompleksina nii uusehitise- kui turismigentrifikatsiooni näidet mereäärses kuuror- dipiirkonnas, kus kompleksi tänasteks kasutajateks on nii sise- kui välisturistid.

JUHTUM II – “KUI PIKK ON ÜHE MAJA ELU? TALLINNA LINNAHALL, VENEETSIA 29.08.–25.11.2012

Erinevalt Pärnu mudaravila positiivsest imagost, kus arendustege- vus oli juba käivitunud, vajas inimeste suhtumine linnahalliga alles määratlemist. Loomingulise projekti üks oluline mõte oli tuvastada, milline on inimeste suhe Nõukogude režiimi aegsesse hiigelsuurde hüljatud hoonesse ning kuidas seda soovitud suunas nihestada. Grafitiga kaetud maja vajas impulssi, et juhtida tähelepanu võimen- duvale lagunemisprotsessile. Teine kohaspetsiifiline näituseprojekt “Kui pikk on ühe maja elu? / How Long is the Life of a Building?” toimus 2012. aastal Veneetsia arhitektuuribiennaali Eesti näitusena, käsitledes modernistliku väärtarhitektuuri hüljatuse temaatikat Ees- tis Tallinna Linnahalli näitel. Eesti näituse eesmärk Veneetsias oli provotseerida/inspireerida inimesi David Chipperfieldi kureeritud 13. arhitektuuribiennaalil diskuteerima ja suhestuma hoonete funktsionaalse kasutamise ning ajalise kestvuse probleemistikuga lähtu- valt teemast “Common Ground” [Ühisosa].

JUHTUM III – ”SOOLALEIVAPIDU”, PALUKÜLA KIRIK, HIIUMAA 2.07.–4.08.2013

Paluküla kirik Lääne-Eesti saarel köitis oma pretensioonika neogooti arhitektuuri ja ümbritseva nõukogudeaegse tööstusliku keskkonna vastuolu tõttu. Keskendusin taaselustamise mõtestamisele ja võima- lustele, kuidas kaasata laiemat inimeste ringi seonduvalt oma tege- vusega. Kolmas kohaspetsiifiline näituseprojekt ”Soolaleivapidu / Housewarming” Paluküla kirikus Hiiumaal elustas hüljatud kirikuhoone omal provokatiivsel moel ning uuris, kuidas suhtub sakraalse ruumi ümbermõtestamisse kohalik elanikkond.

KOKKUVÕTE 219 JÄRELDUSED

Juhtumiuuringutes käsitletud konkreetsed hooned on ka varem inspireerinud loomingulisi ettevõtmisi. Ajalooliste hoonete analüüs loomingulise ja sisearhitektuurse ruumipraktika abil on Eestis uudne. Uurimise tulemusena on välja settinud hüljatud või peaaegu hülja- tud, üksnes inertsist hingitsevate hoonete taaselustamisprotsessis rida üldistusi, mida on võimalik rakendada ka edaspidi. Alljärgne- valt esitan järeldused, mis on seotud väitekirja uurimisküsimustega: Kuidas leida hoone funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamise tulemusena parim võimalik interaktsioon kaasaegse kasutaja ja ajaloolise hoone vahel? Mida pidada silmas, rääkides arhitektuursetest ja ruumilistest väärtustest ajaloolises hoones? Järeldused on seotud uurimuse teo- reetiliste lähtekohtadega: 1) fenomenoloogia 2) gentrifikatsioon ja 3) disainiaktivism.

1) Fenomenoloogilise ruumitunnetuse abil ei saa teha universaal- seid järeldusi ega anda suuniseid, mis laieneksid hoonete funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamise erinevatele juhtumitele – iga hoone on omas kontekstis unikaalne, eeldades tunnetuslikku personaalsust. Hüljatud paigad peidavad iseeneses müstilist poeetilist potentsiaali, mille unikaalsuses sisalduvad tema kvalitatiivsed väärtused. Ohtu taandada neid ümbermõtestamise käigus kommertslikeks lõbus- tuskohtadeks on võrdlemisi raske ülehinnata. Et markeerida ruumi materiaalseid väärtusi ja immateriaalseid väärtusi, on oluline testida erinevaid meetodeid, alustades ideede genereerimisest kuni tegelike eksperimentide ja katsetusteni. Et märgata ruumi atribuute ja saada ka ruumilisi kogemusi, olen püüdnud luua tingimusi ruumi erinevaks kogemiseks kõikide meelte abil. Näiteks anda näitusekülastajale või- malus näha ruumi erineva valgusega (sealhulgas pimeduses) või lasta üliõpilastel teha oma projektiesitlusi täielikus vaikuses. Oluline on tunda ruumis näiteks ebamugavat külma, niiskust, tuuletõmbust. Välistades ühe meele kasutamise (näiteks nägemise või kuulmise), aktiveeruvad teised meeled intensiivsemalt. Sellised teistmoodi tin- gimused aitavad külastajatel/üliõpilastel märgata ja ära tunda ruumi iseloomulikke füüsilisi omadusi, kust on võimalik mentaalsel tasandil edasi mõelda, kujutleda, ideid genereerida.

2) Gentrifikatsioon kui taaslinnastumise osa seondub erinevate sotsiaalsete gruppide ja majanduslike protsessidega. Gentrifiakt- siooni eriilmelised alaliigid on üliõpilastumine (kaasneb üldjuhul ka sotsiaalkultuurilise kapitali kasv); sarnane üürigentrifikatsioon ja turismigentrifikatsioon (vaesem elupiirkond muutub turismi- ja

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 220 meelelahutuskeskuseks); supergentrifikatsioon (leiab aset juba gent- rifitseerunud keskkonnas); uusehitiste gentrifikatsioon (piirkonna üldilme muutub uusehituste näol).29

Gentrifikatsiooniga kaasnevat sotsiaalset vägivalda leevendab kultuurile keskenduv lähenemisviis. Olen veendunud, et elanike demograafilise profiili protsessi saab mõjutada, kui on kaasatud kunstnike, disainerite ja arhitektide alternatiivseid projekte elura- joonide regenereerimisel.

3) Disainiaktivism on seotud sotsiaalse kunstiga, ühendades kunsti ja disaini loomingulise protsessi (kuigi disainiaktivism ei avaldu tingimata näituse vormis). Kohaspetsiifiline näituseprojekt ei pea hõl- mama situatsiooni kui tervikut, vaid tooma kriitiliselt esile peidetud tasandid ja valupunktid, lisades väärtuslikku teavet uurimuse jaoks. Esitades aktuaalseid küsimusi näituse vormis, suunab see inimesi tee- maga kriitiliselt suhestuma ja seda reflekteerima, ümbermõtestama ja arvestama erinevate vaatenurkadega. Diskussiooni algatamine ja ülalhoidmine aitab kogukonnal kohaneda (adapteeruda). Lisaväärtu- sena aktiveerub näitusteprojektiga sotsiaalne suhlustasand.

Alljärgnevalt loetlen võimalikke lähenemisviise juhtumitele:

Võimalikke lähenemisviise juhtumitele ja uusi toimivaid lahendusi nii ajutiste kui püsivate otsuste tegemisel saab luua mitmekesiseid aspekte silmas pidades. Näiteks on võimalus alustada suurelt, et suhestuda kontekstiga nii ajalises kui ruumilises mõttes, liikudes edasi detailide suunas, või siis vastupidi – alustades pisidetailist, et jõuda samm-sam- mult ruumiliste lahendusteni. Need on võrdväärsed võimalused. Oluliste füüsiliste (ka vaimsete) kihistuste väljapuhastamine töö käigus saab olla edasiste valikute tegemise aluseks: sekundaarsete (teiseste) detailide eemaldamise, tundliku “paatinakihi” puhastamise või osalise lammuta- mise tulemusena. Segadus ja kaos on osa koha eripärast, mida eirates võib selguda, et “kordategemine” on pigem kõrvaline, kui mitte hävitav tegevus. Lisatud detailide maht ning esteetika on materiaalne kvaliteet, mis väljendub sekkujate isikupärases käekirjas ehk “arhitektuuri keeles”. Lisatud täiendused muutuvad kihtideks, mille vahel peaks toimima teatud süntees. Majanduslikud võimalused või nende puudumine on oluline lähtekoht nii ideede realiseerimiseks kui ka haldamiseks (näiteks köetavate kuupmeetrite hulk), millest võivad omakorda välja kasvada mõistlikud lahendused (teatavates oludes on loomulik tunda külma).

29 L. Lees, A Reappraisal of Gentrification: Towards a ’Geography of Gentrification.’- The Gentrification Reader. Eds. L. Lees, T. Slater, E. Wyly. London: Routledge, 2010, lk 391.

KOKKUVÕTE 221 KOKKUVÕTTEKS

Olen väitekirja uurimisküsimusi sõnastades lähtunud Kazuyo Sejima kureeritud Veneetsia biennaali “People Meet in Architecture” (2010) sõnumist: “näituse idee on aidata inimestel suhestuda arhitektuuriga, aidata arhitektuuril suhestuda inimestega ja aidata inimestel suhestuda üksteisega”.30

Esiteks huvitusin, kuidas leida hoone funktsionaalse ümbermõtesta- mise tulemusena parim võimalik interaktsioon kaasaegse kasutaja ja ajaloolise hoone vahel. Samavõrd tähtis kui uue funktsiooni leid- mine (mis tõenäoliselt taas muutub) on tähtis teekond ehk otsingute mitmekesised lähenemisnurgad ja vastandlikud tegevused – mille lõpptulemuseks on analüüs, süntees. Avaliku arvamuse mõjutamisel mängib olulist rolli eelkõige ruumiliste sekkumiste taktika. Avalik- kuse väljakujunenud seisukohti on protsessi käigus võimalik muuta ideede oskusliku presenteerimise ehk teisisõnu kommunikatsiooni abil. (Siin on pearõhk intervjuudel ja lugudel.) Küsimuste esitamine ja neile vastamine on oluline nii esitajale kui vastajale.

Ruumilist keskkonda on võimalik väärtustada eelkõige ruumikasu- tuse seisukohast. Hüljatud hoonete ja ruumide ümbermõtestamisel muutub vägagi määravaks kogukonna osalus, nimelt kui kasutajad võtavad käivitunud taaselustamisprotsessis juhtrolli. Ruumiliste sekkumiste roll ja potentsiaal avaneb just läbi ajutiste ruumikasutuste. Ruumi aktiveerimine aitab seda “kodustada” ja luua ühisosa, mis moodustab ühistest huvidest kantud platvormi ning suunata tege- likke otsuseid hoone realiseerimisel tulevikus.

Teiseks küsisin, mida peetakse silmas, rääkides arhitektuursetest ja ruumilistest väärtustest? Ruumilised väärtused ajaloolises hoones on eelkõige emotsionaalsed kihistused, mis puuduvad uhiuues ruumis ja on seega asendamatud. Kaasaegsete vajaduste kohandamine olemasolevate ruumiliste väärtustega loob eeldused ruumi ja kasutaja sümbioosiks.

Ruumi ümbermõtestamise protsessis on oluline avastada nii hülja- tud hoone materiaalsed kui ka immmateriaalsed ruumilised väär- tused, need hoone funktsionaalse ümbermõtestamise käigus esile tuua ja neid võimendada, nii et need suudaksid mõjutada inimeste

30 R. Etherington, Venice Architecture Theme Announced. – Dezeen, 20.01.2010, https://www. dezeen.com/2010/01/28/venice-architecture-biennale-theme-announced/ (vaadatud 27.03.2017).

RUUMI ÜMBERMÕTESTAMINE 222 käitumist ruumis. Mõistagi tuleb võtta arvesse, et inimesed (tuleva- sed ruumi kasutajad) mõjutavad omakorda ruumi, mis eeldab teata- vat paindlikkust uue ruumi loomisel.

KOKKUVÕTE 223

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RE-PURPOSING SPACE 230 Konsa, Kurmo. Tänapäevane konserveerimine: objektidest- väärtustest-subjektidest. [How to Preserve Modernity’]. Lecture at the Society of Estonian Conservators research seminar, Estonian Dairy Museum, 21 November 2014 (author’s notes).

Neble, Trine. Contemporary Architecture and Design in Interaction. Lecture at the conference Heritage, Latvian Academy of Arts, Riga, 12–13 March 2015 (author’s notes).

Pallasmaa, Juhani. Body, Mind and Architecture – the Mental Essence of Architecture. Lecture at the SISU symposium, Kanuti Guild, Tallinn, 29 May 2015, https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=ZPzhJOPS2Xg/ (accessed 8 November 2016).

Pallasmaa, Juhani. Forest Architecture. Landscape, Space and Metaphor. Architectural Atmospheres of the North: Forest, Light and Silence. Public lecture, Universitá Roma TRE, Rome, 23 March 2015 (author’s notes).

Stalker/ON, Walking in Circles. Open lecture. Estonian Academy of Arts, Tallinn, 29 October 2015 (author’s notes).

Ware, Sue Anne. Design Activism and the Contested Terrains of Memorials. Open lecture, Estonian Academy of Arts, Tallinn, 15 September 2015 (author’s notes).

REFERENCES 231

10.

Appendix

 Fig 98: Unité d’habitation by Le Corbusier (1952), Marseille 2016. 233 EXHIBITION OVERVIEW 1

Ruumiline Stoppkaader / Spatial Snapshot

Abstract (in Estonian)

Arhitektuur on inimeste vajaduste ja lokaalsete võimaluste ühendamine, mitte vaid mänguline arhitektoon. Maja toimib, kui ta on funktsionaalne, vastasel juhul see hüljatakse. Viimase Veneetsia Arhitektuuribiennaali sõnum oli lihtne: aidata inimestel suhestuda arhitektuuriga, aidata arhitektuuril suhestuda inimestega ja lõpuks aidata inimestel suhestuda üksteisega (K. Sejima).

Tänases postindustriaalses maailmas ja taasiseseisvunud Eestis muutuvad ajaloolised hooned ümber- ja juurdeehituse käigus kaasaegsetele vajadustele vastavaks. Olen tänaseks kokku kogunud lood, mille kaasabil vastata õhusolevatele küsimustele:Miks ja kuidas teiseneb hoone funktsioon? Kes on vana hoone uued kasutajad? Milline on vana ja uue omavaheline kommunikatsioon?Pärnu Supe- lasutus [1927 arhitektid Olev Siinmaa, Erich von Wolffeldt, Aleksander Nürnberg] on Mudaravilana tuntud kui Pärnu arhitektuuri maamärk. Kuurortlinna arengus on hoonel olnud erinevad kasutajad omaaegsetest kaugetest ja kohalikest supelsakst- est kuni Saksa rindemeeste ning Nõukogude privilegeeritud töölisteni. Hoone on tähtis ka inimestele, kes uhke fassaadi taha ei ole kunagi astunud.

Käesolev näitus vaatleb ruumi muutumist narratiivi abil kui representatsiooni - inimeste kaudu, kes räägivad oma mälestustest, kogemustest ja ootust- est Mudaravila hoonega seoses. Intervjueeritavad on Pärnu linnakodanikud, muinsuskaitseametnikud, arhitektid, arendajad jt. Hoolimata kontekstist, mis on jõudnud praeguse neoklassitsistliku Supelasutuse eluajal mitu korda muutuda, on hoone fassaad sundinud inimesi selja sirgu ajama ja selle taustal end väärikalt pildistada laskma, mille tunnistuseks on arvukad postkaardid ning fotod perekon- naalbumis. Noblesse oblige! Kas ka täna?

Näitus on autori valik ja läbilõige, ruumiline stoppkaader käesolevas hetkes, mis keskendub ruumiliste emotsioonide äratamisele ning väärtuste otsingule. Ruumi transformatsioon rullub lahti ja kerib edasi sarnaselt filmimise protsessiga, kus jutustaja funktsioon jaguneb erinevate osapoolte vahel, kes on osalised oma tõekspidamistega muutuvas ajas ja ruumis. Kogutud hargnevaid jutustusi majast, ruumikogemusest ja selle tähendusest on võimalus jälgida kohapeal vanas hoones vahetult enne lammutus- ja ehitustegevuse algust, mida vaatleja saab tõlgendada näituse käigus. Tänaseks on hoonele valmimas restaureerimise- ja juurdeehituse projekt (arhitektid T. Teedumäe, I. Raukas, P. Ulman, restaureerimisarhitektid N. Mäger, H.-T. Hansumäe, sisearhitektid T.-K. Vaikla, U. Vaikla).

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla näitus koostöös: Urmo Vaikla (kaamera), Ingel Vaikla (foto)

The exhibition project Ruumiline stoppkaader / Spatial Snapshot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BK9cF1CPDm8 (accessed 8 November 2016)

Author’s interviews, 9.–10.07.2011 Questions for the 16 interviewers: What was your first contact with the building? How do you like the building? For whom and why is this building important? Can you draw parallels with some other building? What kind of values should be preserved? When was/will be the best days of the building?

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 234 • Author’s interviews with the architects of the project https://vimeo. com/113081574 Inga Raukas, author and architect [6’ 54], Tallinn Tarmo Teedumäe, author and architect [5’ 59], Tallinn Paco Ulman, author and architect [3’ 23], Tallinn Helle-Triin Hansumäe, restoration architect [5’ 18], Tallinn Toomas Koov, heating and ventilation engineer [4’ 36], Tallinn

• Author’s interviews with previous users https://vimeo.com/113144923 Jaan Moik, the last director of the Mud Baths, 1994–2005 [6.31], Pärnu Mud Baths Valve Tölp, doctor who worked in the Mud Baths and citizen [5.38], Pärnu Mud Baths Paul Kokla, the client of the Mud Baths and linguist [6.09], Tallinn

• Author’s interviews with the developers https://vimeo.com/113144922 Margus Kangur, stakeholder and owner [4.02], Tallinn Tauri Sumberg, operator [5.00], Tallinn

• Author’s interviews with historians https://vimeo.com/113142352 Mart Kalm, architecture historian [10.42], Pärnu Mud Baths Leele Välja, compiler of special conditions of Mud Baths conservation [4.43], Pärnu Mud Baths Nele Rent, senior inspector of the National Heritage Board in Pärnumaa [4.12], Pärnu Mud Baths

• Author’s interviews with the local community https://vimeo.com/113144921 Emil Urbel, former citizen and architect [4.45], Pärnu Mud Baths Krista Nõmmik, former citizen and teacher [6.07], Pärnu Mud Baths Anne Luik, former citizen and real estate specialist [4.48], Pärnu Mud Baths Mall Jõgeva, citizen and teacher [4.18], Pärnu Mud Baths

Appendix 235 EXHIBITION OVERVIEW 2

Kui pikk on ühe maja elu / How Long is the Life of a Building?

Estonian National Exhibition at the 13th International Architecture Exhibition – la Biennale di Venezia

https://issuu.com/vaikla/docs/how_long_is_the_life_of_a_building

Abstract

Everything that is not used goes to rack and ruin. Estonia’s exhibition project deals with how the respectable heritage of modernism is fading away, a process fostered by economic and political conditions. Why are distinguished and acclaimed structures that have functioned for only some twenty or so years being abandoned?

Estonia’s exposition is about relating to time and space – to today’s abandonment of important and unimportant places, yet also to alterations and opportunities of tomorrow…posing the question: how long is the life of a building? This same theme bears more or less universally on architectural heritage throughout the world. Why is modernistic architecture being abandoned – do their materials and technologies depreciate or is it an escape instead, since people have never liked modernist architecture?

In the long run, no building lasts forever, yet in today’s world, in the wake of the global economic crisis, we believe it is not particularly sustainable to abandon buildings with quality architecture which have the potential for contemporary alterations. In order to preserve a building, it must change. How can new uses be found for buildings? Reconstruction, in other words adaptable recycling, has demonstrated that old buildings can often satisfy new functions even better than contemporary buildings that are purpose-designed for these functions. The reference point of modernism – form follows function – naturally argues against this. Maybe the great challenge to architects is to move beyond this reference point.

A larger story unfolds through the example of one building, namely the Linnahall Concert Hall (architects Raine Karp/Riina Altmäe). This monumental building, completed for the Tallinn sailing regatta as part of the 1980 Moscow Olympic Games, functioned for only twenty years and stands vacant in the 21st century,

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 236 covered by now with graffiti. Yet it has aroused the interest of DoCoMoMo. Time stands still in this building, the heating system drones and the clock ticks… This building that stood proudly on a major artery of the capital city is used nowadays only as a training grounds for narcotics dogs and policemen – and for enjoying the sunrise. We have translated the drastic situation described above into a visual poem for the biennial by contrasting the initial official, so to speak monumental range of uses for the building with recent distinctive, spontaneous practices, in order to help viewers recognise and relate to analogous phenomena in their own urban and cultural space.

Commissioner: Ülar Mark Curator: Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla Exhibitors: Urmo Vaikla, Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla, Ingel Vaikla, Maria Pukk, Ivar Lubjak, Veronika Valk Movies: Urmo Vaikla, Jaan Tootsen, Ingel Vaikla

• How long is the life of a building? [18’ 35] https://vimeo.com/54455820

• One Story / Üks lugu: personal short stories about Linnahall [25’ 24] Alari Allik, japanologist [3’ 00] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlLCE9LTiZs Simona Andreas, schoolgirl [1’ 45] https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=ZGr7Camo54A Rein Lang, minister of culture [2’ 37] https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=Mda1ScfH3r4 Harry Liivrand, art historian [2’ 22] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fK2BlLyidFI Tõnis Mägi, musician [3’ 50] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pEmwfOFRhM Marius Peterson, actor and director [3’ 38] https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=U_9IGp6odP0 Ülo Sirp, interior architect of Linnahall [2’ 10] https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=9jQelxI2i_g

• Estonian National Broadcasting Corporation archive about Linnahall [6’ 25]

The exhibition project How Long is the Life of a Building? https://www.facebook. com/HowLongIsTheLifeOfABuilding/

Appendix 237 EXHIBITION OVERVIEW 3

Soolaleivapidu / Housewarming

kutse_rahvusvahelisele interdistsiplinaarsele_workshopile_magistritaseme valikaine 2 EAP

9.–13. juulil 2013 toimub Hiiumaal OPEN workshop Re-Vitalization, mille käigus otsitakse professionaalseid lahendusi, kuidas ümbermõtestada hüljatud [kiriku]hooneid, milline on pühapaiga pragmaatilise kasutamise mõju ja kuidas suhestub sellega kohalik kogukond. Case-study on neogooti kirik Hiiumaal, Palukülas (1820) Kärdla meteoriidikraatri servas. Workshopile on oodatud kõik arhitektuurse ruumiga suhestuvad arhitektuuri-, sisearhitektuuri- ja kunstitudengid + kohaliku kogukonna esindaja igas töögrupis.

WORKSHOPi KAVA T 9.07. buss Tallinn – Hiiumaa [majutus Palade eestiaegses koolimajas 3,5 km] ringsõit saarel – tutvumine kontekstiga: hüljatud hooned – kirikud, tuletornid, militaarobjektid jne. tutvumine Paluküla kirikuga sündmus – kino K 10.07. workshop Palukülas: brainstorming ettekanne – Kuidas hoida pärandit tulevastele põlvedele – Pöide kiriku näitel [Kaire Tooming, Ann Vainlo - Kanut]; sündmus – kesköine jumalateenistus N 11.07. ideede visualiseerimine [working model] R 12.07. workshopi tulemuste presentatsioon ettekanne – Sacred spaces as a connecting medium for people in their search of spirituality' [Tom Callebaut] sündmus – näituse avamine Housewarming

Eestis muudeti nõukogude režiimi poolt peale II Maailasõda kirikuhooned ladudeks, spordisaalideks ja töökodadeks. Tänapäeval on paljud neist kogudustele tagastatud ja restaureeritud, siiski on kirikulisi vähe. Pea kõikjal maailmas kogudused likvideeruvad ja hüljatud kirikuhooned võetakse kasutusele uues funktsioonis – ööklubide, restoranide, büroodena, jms. Workshopi eesmärk on kasutada hüljatud kirikuhoonet kui laborit, et protsessi käigus luua erinevaid ruumielamusi ning analüüsida uusi tähendusi tajude ja aistingute kaasabil. Kas endiste pühamute funktsionaalsel ümbermõtestamisel on tabusid, mis on kaasaegsele inimesele püha?

Workshop-i juhendajad: Tom Callebaut / LUCA, Sint-Lucas School of Architecture, Brussels / Ghent Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla / EKA doktorant, Kunst ja disain koostöös: Ranuplh Glanville / UCL, London Martin Melioranski / Andres Ojari, EKA Maris Mändel / Oliver Orro, EKA Urmo Vaikla, EKA Workshopi korraldab EKA ja toetab Kultuurkapital

Workshopile registreerumise tähtaeg on 10. juuni. Osalejatele kaetakse majutus- ja transpordikulud. koordinaator: [email protected], tel 6267307 lisainfo: [email protected], tel +372 5640930

Abstract (in Estonian)

Altarimaali asemele märklaua seadmine andis sõjaväelastele võimaluse asutada Paluküla kirikusse lasketiir ning paksud paekiviseinad lõid turvalise panipaiga gaasikontori laoruumidele [või oli see vastupidi?] – seesuguse üllatava funktsioon- imuutuse tõi kirikuhoone pragmaatiline taaskasutamine pärast sõda. Ruumiline keskkond kiriku lähiümbruses kannab endas informatsiooni paiga lähiajaloo eri kihistustest…

Eestis muutis nõukogude režiim paljud kirikuhooned ladudeks, spordisaalideks, töökodadeks või loomalautadeks. Tänaseks on enamik neist kogudustele tagastatud ja restaureeritud, siiski on kirikulisi vähe. Pea kõikjal maailmas kogudused kuivavad kokku, hääbuvad ja hüljatud kirikuhooned võetakse kasutusele uues funktsioonis – ka elegantsete kodude, restoranide, büroode, lasteaedade, butiikide, isegi ööklubidena, jms.

Kohaspetsiifiline näituseprojekt ’Soolaleivapidu’ / Housewarming elustab hüljatud kirikuhoone ning uurib, kuidas suhestub sellega kohalik kogukond. Intervjuud siinsamas annavad läbilõike mõttemustritest täna. Kas muutumine kui paratamatu protsess vähendab või loob väärtusi, arvestades seda, et väärtuse kui mõiste sisu on ajas pidevalt muutuv?

Näituse eesmärk on kasutada hüljatud kirikuhoonet kui laborit, et protsessi käigus luua erinevaid ruumielamusi ning analüüsida uusi tähendusi aistingute ja tajude põhjal. Heliinstallatsioon loob kujutluspildi kirikuruumide alternatiivsest kasutusest minevikus ja tulevikus. Kas endiste pühamute ümbermõtestamisel on tabusid, mis on kaasaegsele inimesele püha? Arhitektuurne sekkumine uue trepi ja ‘silla’ näol [puust ja punaseks!] loob aktiivse visuaalse kujundi ning püüab tundlikult korrastada hüljatud ruumi, et ärgitada inimesi kaasa mõtlema, kuidas

RE-PURPOSING SPACE 238 ümbermõtestada ja kasutada hüljatud Paluküla kirikut. Tuules lehvivad süütud pikad valged kardinad aktiviseerivad kirikutorni, loomaks hetkelise mulje, et kirikus on taas elu…

Hea külastaja, jäta siia maha oma arvamus!

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla näitus koostöös: Külli Tüli (heli), Sylvia Köster & Keity Pook (tants), Siim Porila (valgus), Ann Mirjam Vaikla, Urmo Vaikla, Ingel Vaikla facebook: housewarming_paluküla

Sound installation https://vimeo.com/151529466 (accessed 8 November 2016)

Author’s 11 interviews, 25.–26.07.2013 https://vimeo.com/151528754

Questions for the interviewers: • What is your personal connection to this abandoned sacral building? • How could it be used in future? • Could it be turned into a public nightclub or a family residence?

The interviewees were former and current officials, citizens, relatives and friends: Tiit Harjak, Tiiu Heldema, Karin Kokla, Katariin Kokla, Paul Kokla, Dan Lukas, Madis Markus, Ants Orav, Hüllo-Kristjan Simson, Vilma Tikerpuu and Liia Viin.

The participants in the workshop from the Estonian Academy of Arts: Liisi Aomets, Gert Gurjev, Maria Freimann, Taavi Lõoke and Juhan Kangilaski (Architecture and Urban Planning); Kristin Jürmann and Kadri Tonto (Interior Architecture and Furniture Design); Anna Maria Saar (Jewellery and Blacksmithing); Maret Tamme (Scenography); Kadriann Soosaar (Art Education); Maria Kross and Minni Hein (Art History and Visual Culture); Anna Liisa Sikk, Kirsi-Merilin Põldaru and Nele Rent (Cultural Heritage and Conservation); Sylvia Köster and Keity Pook (Tartu University Viljandi Culture Academy, Performing Arts).

Performance https://vimeo.com/151537885

Appendix 239 240 Fig 1: Collection of aboriginal art (a fragment), the Art Gallery of New South Wales (NSW), Sydney 2013. The practice-based research deals with the re-purpos with the deals - research practice-based The - and mod modes to find historicaling of buildings spatial of professional the concept expanding els for on the possible focuses research The intervention. knowledge phenomenological between interaction and the design activism investigation, and spatial on the thesis investigates, The process. gentrification Tallinn Baths, Mud Pärnu the – case-studies of basis - – the activa Church Paluküla Linnahall and Hiiumaa intervention tactics, tion of space and forms of spatial space. of strata social and mental physical, on focusing and the the physical practice, In interior architectural proportional in an inversely are emotional approaches - rela the on focuses research The other. each to relation (users), and the future tionship of the past (buildings) - pat and behavioural human layers spatial evaluating in the impact of space: author is interested The terns. through behaviour people’s to direct it is possible how human the affects space how and space physical atmosphere.

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL OF SPATIAL POTENTIAL INTERVENTION THE ROLE AND THE AND ROLE RE-PURPOSING SPACE: SPACE: RE-PURPOSING Artium Dissertationes Academiae Estoniae 22

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla RE-PURPOSING SPACE: THE ROLE AND POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL INTERVENTION 22

- Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla is a spatial researcher and an and an researcher is a spatial Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin and artis the social - explores who interior architect Estonian from graduated She space. of dimensions tic She is a super Arts as a designer (1987). of Academy visor of transdisciplinary projects in EAA and has transdisciplinary of visor and has in EAA projects University RMIT at experience gained international as a and Design Architecture of Melbourne of School fellow. and guest research lecturer exhibition the Estonian of Tüüne-Kristinthe curator is the SISU Biennale and Architecture Venice the 13th at 2014, Since Tallinn. in symposium interior architecture of the SISU—LINE she has served as the editor-in-chief In 2015 she journal. research interiorarchitecture Council of of the European elected to the board was working currently is She (ECIA). Architects Interior - the Estonian presi of design project with the spatial and Brussels Tallinn of the EU Council 2017 in dency Studio). (Vaikla Fig 1: Collection of aboriginal art (a fragment), the Art Gallery of New South Wales (NSW), Sydney 2013. The practice-based research deals with the re-purpos with the deals - research practice-based The - and mod modes to find historicaling of buildings spatial of professional the concept expanding els for on the possible focuses research The intervention. knowledge phenomenological between interaction and the design activism investigation, and spatial on the thesis investigates, The process. gentrification Tallinn Baths, Mud Pärnu the – case-studies of basis - – the activa Church Paluküla Linnahall and Hiiumaa intervention tactics, tion of space and forms of spatial space. of strata social and mental physical, on focusing and the the physical practice, In interior architectural proportional in an inversely are emotional approaches - rela the on focuses research The other. each to relation (users), and the future tionship of the past (buildings) - pat and behavioural human layers spatial evaluating impact of space: in the author is interested The terns. through behaviour people’s to direct it is possible how human the affects space how and space physical atmosphere.

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla Tüüne-Kristin SPACE: RE-PURPOSING THE AND ROLE OF SPATIAL POTENTIAL INTERVENTION Artium Dissertationes Academiae Estoniae 22

Tüüne-Kristin Vaikla RE-PURPOSING SPACE: THE ROLE AND POTENTIAL OF SPATIAL INTERVENTION 22