The Kunsthal in Rotterdam Evokes Questions About How Architecture Should Be Appreciated

Merwin1

Alice Merwin Case Studies in 20th Century Architecture Professor Woofter 6 December 2004

The Kunsthal, Rem Koolhaas

The Kunsthal in Rotterdam evokes questions about how architecture should be appreciated, conceived, and used. Using traditional means of measuring and studying these aspects of a building, namely drawing, photography, human experience, does not permit an understanding of the Kunsthal’s merits because it is not designed to be experienced in this way. This paper will suggest a different set of media and process for analyzing the Kunsthal, focusing on the icons of technology such as film and cars, which present the world to us at a different pace and view than would have ever existed prior. These media introduce the element of time in experience as more relevant than ever before. i. how is architecture actually perceived?

Le Corbusier said of architecture, “It is appreciated while on the move, with one’s feet….It is while walking, moving from one place to another, that one sees how the arrangements of the architecture develop.” (Connah, p.3) Ideally a persons understanding of a building would evolve through a series of observations collected in the perspective of the human eye, slightly different for each observer, affected by their path, their speed, their height- and resulting in a highly individualized conclusion about the building. Any control the architect wishes to maintain over the way his building is seen must be literally built into the building- either by framing views, controlling movement or in some other way designing not only the building but its users’ perceptions of it, or its experience. Though this might be the ideal manner for experiencing a building, it is by no means the only one. Buildings are experienced at different scales, from different distances, heights, speeds. The introduction of reproductive technology and photography as well as new transportation technology have changed the means of perception. The appearance and popularization of the photograph provided the next major dimension to perception. Even more controlled than direct experience, the photograph introduces a third party, the photographer, into a person’s perception. Now rather than the architect or the viewer himself, the photographer has the ultimate say over perception. The addition of an intermediary “perceiver” between the architect’s work and the ultimate viewer causes a level of distortion by the imposition of a frame and a viewpoint, but also universalizes the experience of the building for every person who looks at the photograph. Two people directly experiencing the building may see it at entirely different Merwin2 angles, move through it in opposite ways and each walk away with entirely different perceptions. Two people looking at a photograph will be more removed than the two who directly experienced it, and will see the exact same static image, and probably describe it in similar ways. What is lost is the multiplicity of experiences and of choice in view. The gain is an easily reproducible and available graphic of the space that can be seen at any location and therefore experienced by anyone. The only way to appreciate the architecture the way it was designed then, is through actual experience, since for a long while the only alternative was the photograph, distorted and limited in its scope.

Modern technology has introduced other media, which may approximate more closely the experience created by moving through a space, namely film and digital reproductions- “Virtual tours” of the space. Transportation technology has introduced other entirely new experiences of buildings. Cars, trains and planes have provided us with views of architecture we could not otherwise see, and have made the dimension of time in spatial experience particularly relevant. While on foot it might take one or two minutes to pass the façade of a building, forcing the viewer to acknowledge a certain level of detail, in a car the façade of a building can be experienced in a matter of seconds. Cars and film eliminate or seriously distort tactile, auditory and time based perceptions of a building, so that “Unlike the sensation of walking through a city and taking it in with all one’s senses, the moving view from vehicles and the camera is, in the end, visual.”(Schwarzer, p.23) What Mitchell Schwarzer terms “zoomscapes,” or the views created by media or viewpoints which accelerate the perception of a building, impose a frame and a view which are not present in direct vision, like a photograph. They crop in artificial in often random ways the “tops, bottoms, and sides of things being viewed.” (Schwarzer p. 23) so that the anticipation of what is beyond the frame or around the next corner becomes the important element of perception, and not so much the direct visual experience of linear perception. The advantage that these media have over the photograph is that they are dynamic, not static. The frame of view does shift, unlike a photograph, and the elements around the corner are revealed. The speed and order in which they are revealed is not necessarily true to the way they are revealed in direct experience, so there is another level or distortion present. Unlike the photograph however they do acknowledge the role of time in perception, like direct experience. This is not to suggest that direct visual perception has been replaced, but that there is another dimension to architectural perception which architects can either ignore or cater to; “Perception flattens. Time spent with buildings diminishes. Seen in motion houses and whole cities roll, break apart, and recombine. Seen in succession, images superimpose upon one another and buildings are evaluated less by their weight and presence than by their fluctuating outlines. Seen within frames, architectures experienced as a graphic and pictorial.” (Schwarzer p.12) Merwin3

Architecture has been granted an opportunity for a new dimension. The element of time in perception has become more important than ever. On what levels does a building read? What does it present to someone who flips past a photograph, or drives by in a car, and how is it different than what it presents to someone sitting contemplatively inside, or walking carefully by? ii. parallels between film and architecture, director and architect

I would like to expand more on the relationship between film and architecture because its relationship to architecture is more than just a new frame through which architecture is viewed, or a new level of perception, though it is certainly very relevant on both those points. Film and architecture have a special relationship however because the products require similar types of thought processes from architect and film director. As Schwarzer says, “challenges to spatial perception link film to architecture.”(Schwarzer, p.242) Koolhaas sees the role of an architect as very similar to that of a film director in that he “conceives architectural episodic sequences which, being suspenseful over time, build up to a climax of spatial experience.” (Porter, p.115) If an architect deliberately designs spaces as sequences of experience and view, as a film might be constructed of motionless images which when connected and juxtaposed create these dramatic moments, he is designing for the conventional audiences of users and direct visual experience, but also for the new audience’s perceptions created by the new technologies of this era explicated in the first section of this paper. Architecture can be seen as writing a script for movement and use. The deliberate choice of site, entries, level changes, windows, doors, dictates to a degree the use of the building and the paths of movement, just as a film director might create a script of spatial perception and movement that complements the plot script. Both architects and film directors construct controlled experiences which include the element of time. It is natural then to associate architecture which is experiential with film, and therefore to explore it as a film, or sequence of experiences, rather than as an object.

Film changes the way we see architecture. Schwarzer says, “Film can reveal to us architectures that exist only in the mind, architectures composed of sensation but also memory and imagination; and such film architecture yields insight into the perception of real architecture. Through changes in viewing distance and height, in the shape and size of the field of view, in the movement of camera through space, and in the duration of scenes, cinema constructs alternative worlds.” (Schwarzer, p.230) These other architectures “only loosely resemble those we perceive directly. Editing changes the flow of time and space.” (Schwarzer, p.207) iii. the kunsthal Merwin4

The Kunsthal is a perfect example of a building which was conceived as an experience as opposed to an object. It is designed around a central ramp which organizes movement inside and outside the building, but also designates entries and galleries. It replaces the static “grand” entrance of a more classically designed museum with a more dynamic one. The ramp leads the viewer up to a higher point of entry, like Mies Van der Rohe’s National Gallery in Berlin, or Renaissance churches, where stairs lead from “the profane to the sacred.” (Cerver, 126) From this point the ramp connects the north and south facades of the building to the entrance and pulls visitors in from the sidewalk and up the ramp through the museum. The design of the ramp becomes essential to guiding a visitor’s path through and perception of the museum. The museum mediates between two different levels, that of Maas Boulevard and the park level below. The rest of the building is designed in a similar way, mediating between different halls and their respective levels. The ramp is the literal link between levels but actually becomes levels itself, and ultimately ends in a roof garden defined on one edge by a giant billboard, forming the climactic “end.” The juxtaposition of green with the classically ugly urban symbol of a billboard is not unusual for Koolhaas and is a theme which runs through the Kunsthal. He juxtaposes interior and exterior ramps, cheap materials with wooden tree trunk covered columns, metal and plastic. “Behind the simple rational façade of the Kunsthal lies a hint of madness, of subversive bizzarie. You might not like the cheap materials and the deliberately shabby finish….But you cannot be indifferent… The Kunsthal shocks and jolts, that is precisely the point.” (Patteeuw, 59)

If shocks and jolts are the point, and the contraction and release of the ramp as it becomes narrow hallways and then large halls, deliberately setting the visitor up for juxtaposed and opposite views of a spaces seems to suggest that it is, then the Kunsthal can be considered an experience rather than an object. Koolhaas does in fact “offer a new definition of architect- the architect as the conscious collector, manipulator and projector of images.”(Patteeuw, 27) His role as master builder becomes less literal. Yes, in the end he constructs something physical either way, but the architect as a collector or images designs with the intent of the physical result of the building being secondary to the final experience. For the master builder in the traditional sense the physical object is the primary finished product.

The Kunsthal was conceived in the same sense as a photo montage, where “different photographic stills are collapsed onto one another to express the unfolding of time.” (Porter, 113) The ramp is Koolhaas’ way of controlling view, or taking on the role of the film director or photographer, and limiting the freedom of people to move through as they please. There is a clear order to the sequence of experiences. He “conceives of architectural episodes and episodic sequences which, being suspenseful over time build up to a climax of spatial experience.” (Porter, Merwin5

115) He eliminates stairs which delegate a certain moment, usually separated from the rest of the museum experience, and which are devoted solely to moving up or down levels, and replaces them with a ramp so that part of the experience is the steadily moving upwards, and the “film” or experience is not interrupted by any moment not included in the experience, or carefully designed. Koolhaas understood the building in “serial vision” providing a new experience at each turn, and blurring interiors and exteriors so that the experience is less defined by walls but by views, creating drama in the level chances and edited or ‘cut’ views. (Porter, 115)

Because the ramp is such a strong organizing force in the building, Koolhaas is freer with the other elements. The columns, the sole visible elements of structure to the average viewer, express this freedom. On the park level they are wrapped in tree trunks, further blurring the line between inside and outside, and suggesting that the “forest” of trees in the park continues into the building and actually supports it. The columns on the auditorium level are placed at an angle to surprise and further show freedom and independence what would intuitively be a stable structure. (Cerver, 126) Fluorescent tube lights light up the bottom floor and hold together the roof in the Second Hall. Untreated concrete is used on the ceilings and the walls are made of glass. The floors slope as the ramp slopes, so a viewer’s orientation regarding what level he is on is never clear. The structure evades being understood and the multitude of materials defies logic.

The positioning of the building also shows how it is catering to the new ways of perceiving architecture by car. Rather than sitting passively on a corner or on the edge of a street, it is placed boldly in the middle of an intersection so that viewers in a car are invited to experience it on a new level than most buildings they are driving past. It demands their attention by forcing them into the building. Koolhaas understands that a person in a car driving by will consciously or unconsciously notice the building and have an impression of it, positive or negative. In forcing cars to drive through the building as opposed to by it, he is demanding a certain amount of attention from the driver and taking the driver to building relationship one step further. As with the example of film he is designing expressly for these new perceptions of architecture created by modern technology. The building can no longer be static because it will not be perceived in a static way. It will be perceived through movement and so he designs the building through movement. On the most basic level it understands that drivers on Maas Boulevard will see the building as an object briefly, if at all, so that façade is static in a traditional way, and commands attention from cars by the giant billboard on the roof. Once inside though it does not read as a graphic, or as one mass, because Koolhaas deliberately disjoints surfaces by abruptly changing material or texture. Instead what remains constant is not surfaces but the uninterrupted flow of movement dictated by the ramp. Visitors on the interior of the building are also aware of their Merwin6 position over an intersection because they are allowed views down onto the cars passing under them. iv. montage

Montage began as a phenomenon in art, primarily in the form of cubist art. It involves taking bits of an image constructed in the normal perspective and then removing it from that context to show something else about that fragment which is only revealed in its new context. The difference then between a collage and a montage since they are often confused is that a “collage is arbitrary, and a montage is ordered. Thus, as collage triggers immediate and non-specific reaction in the recipients (shock at best) montage generates meaning by ordering its elements so that they may be read.” (El Khoury, 89) A montage is relevant both in creating architecture and in representing it. The Kunsthal is a building designed as a montage. Materials are layered in a seemingly haphazard way and none stay constant for a façade much less a room. The ramp material is the sole constant because of its purpose as an organizer of the rest of the building. What makes the Kunsthal a montage and not a collage is that when these seemingly incoherent individual views, or photographs, are juxtaposed and arranged as they are in experience, the different materials begin to reveal the relationships between levels and rooms. The different textures of glass appear on both inside and outside walls, explaining their “sameness” despite the different views. The clear undulating roof structure is seen from below in the second hall and then again from above once the visitor emerges on the roof. The neon string lights connect the first hall and the smaller one next to it. These elements may seem randomly placed If the Kunsthal is seen through disconnected photographs because their context only becomes clear when the building is experienced in the order that the ramp suggests. As in a two dimensional montage, “the possibility of interpreting the work” adds meaning to the arrangement of fragments, “Gaining new information, our receiving of a specific semiotically-controlled message, through his (the artist’s) precise layering of metaphorical devices.” (El Khoury, 106) v. the drawing

Architecture may also be explained through montage, particularly relevant in the instance of the Kunsthal. This drawing is a montage of sections cut though the path of movement and experience of the Kunsthal. The Kunsthal is experienced as a film, with a clear beginning, middle and end. Koolhaas dictates this sequence of experience by strictly controlling motion with the organizing power of a ramp. Merwin7

This drawing attempts to recreate the experience of motion through the Kunsthal by defining motion as the experience between two points on the ramp but also the experience of time between the two points.

The diagram on the bottom right shows the movement around the Kunsthal. When this movement is uncoiled it becomes a time line based on distance between points, adding another dimension to experience. At each turn of the eye, a section is cut through the uncoiled ramp.

A final layer is added which allows the ramp to uncoil in a less rigid way based on experiential relationships between views. The photographs used impose different viewpoints for each fragment of the montage so that a linear uncoiling of the ramp through photographs is not possible. Instead it explores the relationships of juxtaposed materials and rooms, letting them bleed into each other as they do in the actual experience of the building. The drawing then offers two juxtaposed understandings of the ramp, one as a linear movement through time and space and the other as an experiential guide through the building, explicating relationships not understood sectionally.

This experiment allows for three things to be appreciated. The first is that the ramp is constant as a plane for motion, but changes in breadth and height. Juxtaposing a wide experience of the ramp with a narrow low one provides drama and hints at the final crescendo of the roof garden. Their proximity in the diagram is representative of their experiential proximity both in distance and time, which is the second thing that the drawing explores. The final dimension of the drawing explains the rich material changes and relationships which allow a visitor to orient herself despite the constant change of level and direction imposed by the ramp. One material is allowed to flow pas room divisions and floors, implying a connection where view cannot. The montage shows positional relationships and material relationships but is not an exact replication of the experience. “The photomontage does not achieve a complete synthesis of parts since the fragments remain internally separated by their semantic differences. The work, thus, constantly oscillates between a resolved totality of form and content….and a fragmented image of suspended differences.” (El Khoury, 107) What it can do, which experience and film cannot, is that in direct experience movement causes each view to disappear promptly after it is experienced. We may have a complete understanding of parts as we move, but our movement is seamless in the way that a montage is not. We are not aware of the different frames so they receive no distinction as we move. A montage freezes those moments so that they can be arranged in a way which is freed of time and memory and becomes more of a graphic. This drawing explores the relationships of views with respect to physical distance and time on one literal layer, and their relationships to each other on a second layer. The Kunsthal must be Merwin8 understood on both these dimensions to understand the logic behind an otherwise confusing arrangement of fragments.