Architectural Structures Anna Samsonov

ARCH 241

Four architects. Four masterpieces. Four domes.

Prof. Pieter Sijpkes

McGill School of Architecture

12/14/14 I few weeks ago I was returning to by train from the West. A sculptor from Paris was sharing my compartment. As we approached the outskirts, he suddenly pointed to the view on his left and exclaimed in astonishment: “What is that?!” There, on the long slope above the tiny village of Baumgarten – Gustav Klimt was born there, an omen of modernity – was a white city, sparkling in the bright summer sun. Crowned by a golden dome of a white marble church… “That is something very special,” said my Frenchman. “That, I have to see.” – Ludwig Hevesi, “Otto Wagners Moderne Kirche,” 1907

Art critic and “advocate of all things modern in Vienna” Ludwig Hevesi thus began his newspaper column on October 6, 1907 (Topp 130). This anecdote pays tribute to ’s , but in fact can be extended to other

Viennese buildings as well. Karlskirche, Kunsthistorisches Museum and the

Secession building are all breathtaking examples of Viennese architecture, which strike with their beauty, monumentality and balanced proportion. Each of the four masterpieces is crowned with a dome, which in each case plays the leading role among other architectural elements. Through the evolution of the dome we see the progression that Viennese architecture undergoes, from the boasting theatrical baroque to the sleek and streamlined . Yet these buildings are not just pleasing to the eye, but to the body and to the soul as well. Once inside, one gets the feeling of being in the right place and in the right time.

Photo by Aleksandra Zinovyeva

In 1713 a serious plague struck Vienna. Emperor Charles VI vowed to build a church for his name saint Charles Borromeus if the plague would stop (this saint was traditionally honored for curing the plague in sixteenth-century Milan). Four months later the epidemic was over and the architect Fischer von Erlach won the royal commission (Fergusson 318). Most of the studies on the church focus on the exuberant façade, which is often compared to a number of sources ranging from Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome to Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. However, there was no single prototype because

Fischer’s conception went hand in hand with the plague iconography. Besides a portrayal of plague victims in the pediment, St. Charles Borromeus also appears three times: in the dome fresco, the stucco altarpiece, and as an “acroterion” on the pediment. Frances Fergusson believes that the plague theme extends further into the architectural concept, arguing that the rational for the two pillars may be found in the Austrian tradition of plague columns (320). However, Esther Dotson supposes that the two columns were nothing more than Fischer’s tribute to the imperial patron. Emblem of Charles VI was the imperial crown (topped by a cross) and framed by two columns. Dotson argues that the innovative architect found a way to incorporate the Habsburg emblem into the design of the Church. Indeed,

Karlskirche, seen from upfront, boasts a dome with a cross and a portico framed by two Roman triumphal columns.

Image from Wikimedia Like many memorial churches Karlskirche has a central plan and dominant dome. The church is symmetric yet powerfully dynamic at the same time. One’s eyes slide past the central axis, through the dome and its base to the portico and stairway, and shift through the plane of the side towers past the freestanding columns. “On the approach from the suburbs, the arched openings through the wings create a dramatic transition to the church square. Contemporary views stress the movement around and through the wide façade. Arriving at its center, one can look through the main portal along the interior axis, to the climax in the central golden window” (Dotson 120).

Photos by Aleksandra Zinovyeva

Inside, Fischer plays with the contrast between light and shadow. He exaggerates the transitions between narrow shadowed spaces and bright openings by the use of an oval dome over the entire congregational area, and a smaller dome over the apse. “From the exterior steps and porch the interior seems darker with only a narrow band of light under the main dome space, and deep shadow again before the central window’s symbolically charged brilliance. As one enters, however, the sequence of light and shadow becomes clear. Shadowed columns form the transition from the windowless vestibule to an oval space evenly lighted from two levels of windows in the dome and from the side chapels and wide transepts.

Under the oval dome the space is strongly directional. The three arches at the altar end form a triumphal arch. From the clear rational light of the congregational area, one looks through the dark barrel vault behind the tall central arch to the transcendent brightness of the expanded, separately vaulted and lighted space behind the altar, in which the altar itself participates only when the candles are lighted for a service” (Dotson 121).

Photo by Miroslav Petrasko

Source unknown

The Kunsthistorisches museum in Vienna was first open to the public in

1891, uniting under its roof the extensive art collections of the Habsburgs and serving itself as a monument to the royal collectors. The famous German architect

Gottfried Semper and his younger Austrian colleague Karl von Hassenauer were commissioned for what was then, perhaps, the most prestigious architectural project. The museum was built on Ringstrasse, the newly created circular road surrounding the inner district of Vienna. But as opposed to other civil buildings, which face the busy boulevard, Kunsthistorisches overlooks its architectural twin, the Museum of Natural History, across a landscaped plaza (Bischoff 23).

Image from traveltoeat.com

The historicist architects consciously imitated the style of the Italian

Renaissance thus referring to the epoch traditionally associated with the heyday of the arts and sciences. “The main façade is lent a pronounced vertical accent by the interposed structure with its cupola, which is subtly echoed by the two corner risalits. Elements articulating the façade are distributed evenly over the entire building. The elevation of the façade is composed of approximately equal measure of a base zone of rough-hewn stone and giant Tuscan pillars, and an upper zone having three quarter Ionic columns. Rectangular windows in the basement level, and round arch windows in the ground floor are distributed evenly in the base zone. A triglyph frieze and console cornice define the beginning of the first floor with its Ionic Serlian windows. A narrow meander frieze runs along the border of the attic story, which is provided with rectangular windows. The frieze in the architrave area is decorated alternately with the Austrian Imperial Crown and monogram “F[ranz] J[oseph]”. A balustrade completes the façade” (Bischoff 160).

Inside the museum, the vestibule, staircase and cupola hall dramatically unite to create an appropriately impressive stage for the achievements of the arts. In the vestibule, a vault with an oculus rises above the black and white floor. This aperture in the vault affords a first view of the cupola hall above. The impressive staircase leads the visitors to the next level. Upon reaching the landing, visitors find their attention directed to the cupola hall, “the sacrally charged finale to the architectural orchestration” (Bischoff 163).

Photo by Michael Tulipan

Photos by Aleksandra Zinovyeva Semper believed that the “inner harmony of exhibition rooms” could be achieved “not only by differing decoration” but also “adapting the architectural style” to the objects exhibited. The architect admitted: “The most difficult challenge is to combine this diversity with the equally desired harmony of its parts, and unite them into a whole”. Semper and Hasenauer masterfully overcame this design challenge. Each room reads as its own work of art, yet together they form a unity, beautifully interwoven by the marble staircase and the cupola hall.

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Yet the Kunsthistorisches Museum is more than just a superb piece of architecture commemorating Austrian rulers and their art collections. Victoria

Newhouse notes that Semper and Hassenauer succeeded in creating “an intimate dialog between container and contents, ideal for the exhibition of art.” They took into consideration the art that would be exhibited, creating large, skylit rooms to accommodate larger paintings and intimate alcoves along the peripheral walls across the windows for smaller works. The architects even designed a taller gallery specifically tailored for Rubens’s overscaled paintings. The variety of room shapes and sizes and established clear paths that guide the visitors through the museum all contribute to an unforgettable experience (324).

Photo by Aleksandra Zinovyeva

Photo by Prestel

In 1897 a group of artists and architects including Gustav Klimt, Joseph Maria

Olbrich, Josef Hoffman and broke off from the official Viennese artists’ exhibition association protesting its increased corruption and commercialization. They formed their own group called the . They believed it was their mission to expose the public to the development of modern art abroad and to emphasize artistic integrity, rather than certain schools or styles.

They wrote provisions ensuring that one group member could not control who could exhibit and where. Architect was an obvious choice for designing the new exhibition space, later known as the Secession building, since he was a member of the Secession, dissatisfied with the biased conservatism of the

Viennese association (Topp 30). Although he has been exposed to a vast number of approaches to architecture having studied under Camillo Sitte, Carl Hasenauer, and later having worked with Otto Wagner, the Secession building was his first project as an independent architect. (Topp 36).

Joseph Maria Olbrich, Front of the Secession, 1898

The Secession group originally wanted to build their headquarters on the

Ringstrasse but their request was not approved. They finally settled on a triangular piece of land, not on the Ringstrasse itself, but right outside of it, on Karlsplatz

(Topp 38). At the other side of the square stood the beloved monument of Viennese people, Karlskirche.

The plan of the building is a variation of the Greek cross with a basic division between the formal entrance front and a simpler, flexible exhibition space. This is also visible from the exterior and is emphasized by an open-work wrought-iron dome. This iron “laurel foliage” is not a dome in a strict sense of the word, because it is not visible from the interior (Topp 44). Critic Ludwig Hevesi explained that it is rather “the crown of a symbolic laurel tree; it is nine meters in diameter and consists of three thousand shoe-length leaves and seven hundred fist-size berries, everything on the exterior painted yellow, and the leaves genuinely gilded with three long stripes, while the light green on the inside shows through.” Another contemporary noted that in the evening, “as darkness descends, electric light glows in the inside of the golden laurel dome and shimmers mysteriously out between the punctured network of leaves.” In front of four short pylons, which seem to support the dome, overhanging the recessed doorway, sits a block which acts as a bridging element, with its inscription: “Der Zeit ihre Kunst; Der Kunst ihre Freiheit”, meaning

“to the time its art, to art its freedom.” A thin garland of wrought-iron snakes, analogous to those crowning the three Gorgon heads, representing architecture, painting and sculpture, surrounds this block (Topp 42). “The majority of the building is constructed of brick with some iron reinforcements; the whole, from the roof line down, is covered in plaster and white-washed. The roof over the exhibition space is covered in corrugated iron and has an irregular profile, with glass and iron skylights protruding in four places” (Topp 46).

Photo by Molly & the Princess

Photo from wien.info

Olbrich deliberately chose not to impose a fixed arrangement of rooms in the exhibition space. “Instead, six extremely thin iron columns were provided for the support of whatever temporary dividing walls the exhibition architect wanted to use” (Topp 46). Apparently, Olbrich was the first one to put into practice this ingenuous idea and thus set the standard for modern exhibition spaces all around

Europe. After the first exhibition in the Secession building Wilhelm Scholermann wrote: “The contrivances for the reduction and expansion of individual rooms are excellent. Through moveable dividing walls, the rooms can be made as large, long, narrow, wide, short as desired, according to the requirements and according to the character of the art works displayed in them.” Architects Josef Hoffmann and Joseph

Maria Olbrich themselves took advantage of this feature, by transforming the exhibition space for every occasion. This can be clearly seen from the varying floor plans, which were provided in the exhibition catalogues (Topp 46).

Secession Exhibition Building. Plans of different exhibitions.

Harvard Design Magazine

Image from Wikimedia

Otto Wagner’s masterpiece, St. Leopold Church at Steinhof, is now considered one of the most significant examples of early modernism. Located on the green picturesque slopes of the Viennese forest, the hospital complex forms an important part of Vienna’s western section cityscape. Otto Wagner first presented his church design at the 23rd exhibition of the Viennese Secession and was awarded the first prize in the competition to build a mental asylum church. Construction commenced in 1905 and the church was completed in a record time span of only two years.

Having already designed multiple churches, Wagner for the first time “succeeded in implementing modernism in sacral architecture” (Sarnitz 59).

Photo by Norbert Svojtka

The dome vaulted main building has an exterior paneled with marble slabs.

The dome itself is covered with grooved gold-plated copper sheets. The interior of the church, shaped as a Greek orthodox cross, accommodates around 800 people, with seating space for 400. The entrance is functionally divided into three sections, with the entrance for men located on the right, for women on the left, and the entrance in the middle reserved for special occasions. The high rising dome cannot be fully seen from the interior because of an inserted curved ornamental ceiling encased with Rabitz panes. Wagner incorporated a concrete ceiling to create a level, which among other things holds the winches of the chandeliers. The walls are up to three meters high lined with marble panels held in place by a “functional ornament”.

“A brilliant white firmament with gold colored modular lines arches over the church space forming a square lattice. The gold décor and the golden rivets simultaneously serve to secure the Rabitz panes”. The floor, decorated with white tiles with a black pattern consisting of small squares, declines some thirty centimeters towards the altar to ensure a good view of the ceremonies throughout the church (Sarnitz 61).

Photo by Edward Tyler

Wagner paid special attention to controlled lighting from the side windows, non-reflecting placement of the altar, good acoustics, and the separation of visitors of ill patients according to gender and patient or hospital employee status. Wagner stresses “necessity” as the only motivation for his architectural enterprise, placing it

“beyond discussion”; nowhere does he mention an aesthetical perspective. Perhaps, his projects were too often rejected as non-conforming to the prevailing tastes

(Sarnitz 61).

Wagner placed high value on collaboration with fellow artists. Richard

Luksch made the figures situated on the church’s two towers. created the four angels above the main entrance. Koloman Moser completed the large side windows and Leopold Forster painted the altar after a design by Remius

Geyling (Sarnitz 61).

Austrian writer and historian Joseph August Lux spoke highly of the modernist church. “It is of Palladian beauty, but of an unmistakable modern spirit, it is held together by a metal ring, thus dispensing with a lateral shearing and the consequent necessary abutment; it is the brain child of today’s conceptions of construction and could not have merged in this form at any period other than the present.”

The four iconic Viennese buildings: Karlskirche, Kunsthistorisches museum, the Secession building and Kirche am Steinhof were built in a span of 200 years and are quite different in looks and purpose. Yet in all their difference they represent

Vienna as it is: a former capital of a vast empire and later a cradle of a modern artistic movement. Dispersed throughout the city, these four domes guard Vienna’s past, present and future.

Works Cited

Bischoff, Cäcilia, Sabine Haag, Elisabeth Herrmann, and Joshua Stein.

Kunsthistorisches Museum: History, Architecture, Decoration. Vienna:

Christian Brandstatter, 2010. Print.

Dotson, Esther Gordon, and Mark Richard Ashton. "V. Imperial Vienna: The Emperor

as Patron." J. B. Fischer Von Erlach: Architecture as Theater in the Baroque

Era. New Haven: Yale UP, 2012. 119-31. Print.

Fergusson, Frances D. "St. Charles' Church, Vienna: The Iconography of Its

Architecture." Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 29.4

(1970): 318-26. Web. 10 Dec. 2014.

Newhouse, Victoria. "Is "The Idea of a Museum" Possible Today?" Daedalus 128.3,

America's Museums (1999): 321-26. JSTOR. Web. 13 Dec. 2014.

Sarnitz, August. "St. Leopold Church at Steinhof." Otto Wagner, 1841-1918:

Forerunner of Modern Architecture. Köln: Taschen, 2005. 59-63. Print.

Topp, Leslie Elizabeth. "One. The Secession Building: Multiple Truths and Modern

Art." Architecture and Truth in Fin-de-siècle Vienna. Cambridge, U.K.:

Cambridge UP, 2004. 28-62. Print.

Topp, Leslie. "Otto Wagner and the Steinhof Psychiatric Hospital: Architecture as

Misunderstanding." The Art Bulletin 87.1 (2005): 130-56. JSTOR. Web. 2

Dec. 2014.