bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
The New Material‐Based Realism of Nineteenth‐Century Theory and Practice
Authors: Levine Neil 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
This chapter discusses the major shift in focus during the second quarter of the nineteenth century from an architecture of representation continuing the neoclassical tradition with its source in the Renaissance to a new modern architecture based on the material conditions of construction and program. The theory and practice of Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin and Henri Labrouste serve to illustrate the key index of change, the replacement of the idea of constructed decoration by that of decorated construction.
Domestic Architecture As a Mode of Separation
Authors: Adams Annmarie 
Published: March 2017

AbstractA common image of the Victorian home tends toward being one of family togetherness, but it also functioned as a sophisticated mode of separation. A distinctive room arrangement separated householders by activity, age, social class, and gender. Rooms were closely associated with individual family members and became vehicles for husbands, wives, children, and servants to express family hierarchies. Hallways and stairways mediated particular forms of spatial togetherness, notably separating family members from live‐in servants. This was achieved through two separate circulation systems within the building, as well as especially scaled‐down rooms. The sheer scale of Victorian houses, the framing of the buildings by decorative landscapes, and house location (for example in suburbia) isolated the family from its neighbors and from the surrounding urban environment. Cues from hospital architects inspired ways to maximize fresh air in the middle‐class house, as a way to fight the spread of disease and to express awareness of scientific knowledge.
Decoration as Discourse in Nineteenth‐Century Britain
Authors: Brett David 
Published: March 2017

AbstractIn the course of the nineteenth century, ornament and decoration emerged as a major object of discourse, acquiring an unprecedented level of recognition and distinction despite its being a notoriously difficult topic to write about. Following the lead of A. W. N. Pugin early in the Victorian period, ornament was often seen as the enrichment of the essential structure of a building – an intimate coupling that became ever more pronounced with the advent of “ferro‐vitreous” architecture such as the Crystal Palace at the 1851 Great Exhibition in London. A certain attitude of scientism developed in decorative discourse, especially around the new curriculum developed in the “Government School of Design” in London, a trend that John Ruskin sought to counter by adopting more naturalistic and traditionalist precepts.
Furness, Richardson, and Sullivan, and the Anglo‐French Synthesis
Authors: Lewis Michael J. 
Published: March 2017

AbstractThis chapter looks at architecture in the United States in the decades following the Civil War, from 1865 to 1900, and in particular at the work of Henry Richardson, Frank Furness, and Louis Sullivan. It shows how Sullivan's highly personal architecture reconciled the conflicting currents of French and English architectural theory, and became the basis for American modern architecture.
Russian Architecture of the Nineteenth Century
Authors: Shvidkovsky Dmitry 
Published: March 2017

AbstractNineteenth‐century Russian neoclassicism was grounded in French ideas of the architecture of Enlightenment, combined with neo‐Palladian principles. The architects who led the development of St. Petersburg between the 1800s and the 1840s were Andrian Zaharov, Vasily Stasov, Auguste Montferrand, and, above all, Karl Rossi. In the next phase of neoclassicism, the Empire style, the main role was played by Moscow architects Iosif Bove and Domenico Gilardi. In the architecture of the Romantic period, as in most western countries, a variety of styles may be seen in Russia, sowing the seeds of Gothic revival in the English taste and nineteenth‐century Orientalism. The Russian style continued to seem desirable in the 1830 to 1890s. Konstantin Ton built the church of Christ the Redeemer in “Russian‐Byzantine” style, which became the approved national style. Russian art nouveau architects of the 1890s to 1910s were decidedly romantic, concerned with the creation of new myths in symbolic forms. A new strain of the style emerged in architects’ commercial buildings with a rationalistic approach to function, prefiguring the 1920s. The pre‐revolutionary decade brought about the strengthening of neoclassicism.
Schlesinger and Mayer Department Store/Carson Pirie Scott: Louis Sullivan
Authors: Merwood‐Salisbury Joanna 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
In his 1892 essay, “Ornament in Architecture,” Louis Sullivan summarized the aesthetic implications of the steel frame: if the structure of a building and its exterior walls are now separate systems, what is the relationship between the two? The chapter features his suggestion that “it would be greatly for our aesthetic good if we would refrain entirely from the use of ornament for a period of years, in order that our thought might concentrate acutely upon the perfection of buildings well formed and comely in the nude.” For much of the twentieth century, Sullivan's Schlesinger and Mayer department store, later known as Carson Pirie Scott (1899–1903), was regarded as the physical manifestation of that impulse, a building in which ornament had been stripped away from all but the base and attic, revealing the naked form of the frame underneath. In this way it seemed to herald a new aesthetic in which the representation of technology replaced conventional forms of ornament. Considered in the urban and social context of late nineteenth‐century Chicago, the Schlesinger and Mayer building illustrates Sullivan's belief in the ongoing viability of architectural ornament, in particular as a representation of American democracy. This contextual reading suggests an alternative narrative of architectural modernism, one in which the curtain wall, so long understood as a form of structural expressionism, is also recognized for its decorative function.
Postal Savings Bank: Otto Wagner
Authors: Kerékgyártó Béla 
Published: March 2017

Abstract

The Postal Savings Bank in Vienna was built in two phases from 1904–06 and from 1910–12. Its architect, Otto Wagner, was over 60 years old at the time, and perhaps the most influential architect in Vienna. He was also a highly controversial figure. Shortly after he was appointed professor at the Academy of Fine Arts he published his lectures, which were both a summary of his professional credo and a militant manifesto. This work, entitled
Modern Architecture
, demanded that architecture would no longer imitate past forms but become an up‐to‐date building art. A paradoxical – or according to his admirers tragic – aspect of his career was that although he took part in many international and local competitions and developed, exhibited, and published many progressive and inventive projects, he received hardly any public commissions until the mid‐1890s. Nevertheless, he went on to build two monumental buildings at the beginning of the twentieth century, which were to be his major works: a church for the psychiatric hospital complex at Steinhof on the outskirts of Vienna (1902–04) and the Postal Savings Bank (1903–12). Both are manifestations of his mature approach while naturally differing greatly in purpose and type. Whereas in the case of the church the aim was a modern reformulation of a traditional type – he had referred to it as the most interesting task for an architect – the Postal Savings Bank was a prototype of an institution characteristic of modern mass society.
Aeg Turbine Factory: Peter Behrens
Authors: Bryant Gabriele H. 
Published: March 2017

AbstractThe AEG Turbine Factory in Berlin, designed by the architect Peter Behrens (1868–1940) in collaboration with the building engineer Karl Bernhard (1859–1937), represents a milestone in the development of modern industrial architecture. Built in just a few months in 1909 in glass, iron, and concrete as an enormous modern industrial production space – the largest iron construction in Berlin at the time, with an enclosed volume of around 150,000 cubic meters uninterrupted by internal supports – today, more than a hundred years later, it still fulfills its original function, the assembly of large industrial turbines. The Turbine Factory has long been hailed as representing the integration of industrial building types and modern construction methods and materials into the tradition of architecture, and an artistic elevation of the modern workplace and the world of industry into the realm of culture. The Turbine Factory constitutes an attempt at reconciling the modern disciplines of architecture and engineering – or, as Behrens would put it, creating a new unity between art and technology – and one of its historical achievements is that it marks a new beginning in artists’ and architects’ engagement with the sites and products of modern industry in the early twentieth century.
Stockholm Public Library: Erik Gunnar Asplund
Authors: Andersen Michael Asgaard 
Published: March 2017

AbstractStockholm Public Library, which opened on March 31, 1928, was in many ways an innovation in the Nordic countries. Most striking was the fact that lenders could now take books off the shelves themselves, but the central placement of the lending room and the secondary placement of the reading rooms also indicated a new way to organize libraries. The thoughts embodied in the building became a model for many later libraries. The building is not only testimony to an important period of Nordic architectural history and a recognized masterpiece by the Swedish architect Erik Gunnar Asplund (1885–1940), it is also part of the history of the Nordic social model that was taking shape in the interwar years. Because of its function as a public institution and its unique architectural qualities, Stockholm Public Library today stands as an early manifestation of Nordic welfare building.
Plan Voisin: Le Corbusier
Authors: Samuel Flora 
Published: March 2017

AbstractThe city plans of the Franco‐Swiss architect Le Corbusier changed the face of town planning in the postwar era. The three best known are the Ville Contemporaine (1922, also known as the City of Three Million), the Plan Voisin (1925), the focus of this chapter, and the Radiant City (1933). The Plan Voisin, developed together with his cousin Pierre Jeanneret, was particularly controversial as it was here, for the first time, that Le Corbusier translated the brittle assertions of his canonical books,Toward an Architecture(1923),The City of Tomorrow(1924) andThe Decorative Art of Today(1925) to a real site – Paris.
Goetheanum: Rudolf Steiner
Authors: Ott Randall 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
A first glimpse of Rudolf Steiner's existing, concrete Goetheanum near Basel still causes awe nearly a century after its inception. Resting with imposing bulk upon its hilltop, this organically sculptural monolith seems more quietly brooding than truly dormant. Nature itself here appears to ripple its musculature and consider rising up, yet instead settles back into a foreboding posture of watching and waiting. We sense a cryptic messenger of profound yet still untimely import – a grey gargoyle lodged in its aerie, holding a societal key for which the day‐to‐day world remains unready.
E.1027: Eileen Gray
Authors: Constant Caroline 
Published: March 2017

Abstract

During the 1920s, Anglo‐Irish designer Eileen Gray and Romanian architect Jean Badovici, editor of the French avant‐garde periodical
L'Architecture vivante
, wrote a series of essays in dialogue form. These constitute an alternative to the manifesto, the principle literary means by which Modern Movement architects attempted to argue for the “universal” validity of their approach. The most significant of Gray's architectural collaborations with Badovici, the house E.1027 in Roquebrune‐Cap Martin, France (1926–29), operates in dialogue with Le Corbusier's “Five Points of a New Architecture,” an early version of which Badovici published in
L'Architecture vivante
.
Villa Savoye: Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret
Authors: Wesley Richard 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
The Villa Savoye was designed by the artist‐architect, Le Corbusier, in collaboration with another architect, his cousin Pierre Jeanneret. In this case the artist‐architect was a painter educated to observe and admire nature by another artist, Charles L'Eplattenier, who painted vibrant landscapes. Not surprisingly the house frames a number of views of the surrounding landscape, sometimes between columns, sometimes through openings in walls, and sometimes through windows. In most instances one is allowed to move freely through the house positioning oneself in various relationships to these framed views; but this is not the case moving up the central ramp to the third level where the orientation and direction of movement are predetermined and the ultimate view is framed on an axis with the ramp and in a frontal relationship to the line of travel. Surprisingly, the view offered at the destination of the ramp is framed by a relatively small, windowless opening in a windscreen wall. This opening limits the prospect of the horizon more than any other view‐frame in the house. Perhaps this is what the designers of the villa meant when they described the house as “a veritable architectural promenade, offering constantly varied aspects, unexpected, sometimes surprising.”
Fallingwater: Frank Lloyd Wright
Authors: Levine Neil 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
Fallingwater is the name Frank Lloyd Wright gave to the country house he designed for Edgar Kaufmann and his wife, Liliane, in 1934–35, and built over a waterfall in 1936–37 in the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains, about 65 miles south of Pittsburgh. It is one of the most extraordinary and celebrated works of twentieth‐century architecture. Recognized as such even before it was inhabited, Fallingwater stands out as a singular expression of integrating architecture with its natural environment and creating out of that interrelationship a synergy that has become definitive of the modern concept of site‐specificity. The experience of it in space and time is a multisensory one involving the kinesthetic and the aural in addition to the more usual visual mode of perception of buildings.
Church of Christ the Worker: Eladio Dieste
Authors: Anderson Stanford 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
In a Uruguayan village inhabited by farmers and laborers one finds a singular church, traditional in its material but radical in form. This is not a story of enlightened patronage on the part of a community or a wealthy individual. It is the story of a remarkable engineer who, asked to make a modest work with his proven capacity in economical building, chose rather to challenge himself in realizing an unprecedented work that would come to be recognized as an outstanding architectural work. The Church of Christ the Worker in Atlántida, with its bold curving forms, stands proud in its featureless context, accompanied by its brick campanile. The energetic brick walls of the church embrace an open‐air narthex or porch that gives access to a space, complexly configured, yet also providing direct, intimate relation between the parishioner and the sanctuary. Though there is no immediately evident source of light, this is a luminous interior possessed of a radiance that elevates both the humble material of its construction and the sensibility of its viewers.
Burgerweeshuis Orphanage: Aldo Van Eyck
Authors: Coleman Nathaniel 
Published: March 2017

Abstract

The terrifying nature of human uncertainty, according to Aldo van Eyck (1918–99), becomes less frightening when opposites are reconsidered as parts of complex wholes. Multiple languages and rituals harbor clues as to how complexity can be given a place in rooms, buildings, and cities capable of assuaging intense emotions. The project of collapsing rigid oppositions, which dualistic thinking presents as final, and which van Eyck was certain contributed to the uncertainty and anxiety of modern life, could be advanced through a complex understanding of relative patterns of relations – revealed in the parallel realities of diverse architectures and cultures. It is precisely the creation of a setting that was rich and complex enough to receive the full range of human emotion – in particular ambivalence – that van Eyck attempted to achieve in the Amsterdam Municipal Orphanage,
Amstelveenseweg
(1955–60).
Plan for Tokyo: Kenzo Tange
Authors: Lin Zhongjie 
Published: March 2017

Abstract

When Kenzo Tange travelled to Otterlo to attend the last meeting of the
Congrès internationaux d'architecture moderne
(CIAM) in September 1959, he seemed to be preoccupied by questions of the future urban form. Like other participants in this conference, organized by Team 10, that ended with a formal dissolution of CIAM, Tange was asked to present “a project which he considered to express in the best way possible his conception of the task of the architect and urbanist, and his thoughts on how the architect and urbanist might rationalize and harmonize the connections between people and their surroundings.” Tange concluded his presentation with two projects by another young Japanese architect, Kiyonori Kikutake, including his own residence, Sky House, and a utopian city design called the Marine City. This became the first exposure of the Metabolism group's work in an international event. Tange particularly referred to the project of Marine City and claimed: “Tokyo is expanding but there is no more land, and we shall have to expand into the sea.” This bold statement launched his exploration of alternative urban forms for this emerging megacity with a series of visionary projects that culminated with the Plan for Tokyo 1960, also known as the Tokyo Bay Plan.
Salk Institute: Louis I. Kahn
Authors: Friedman Daniel S. 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
Little wonder arguments over Louis I. Kahn collect along the centerline of the Salk Institute, as though debate over his truer intentions might somehow influence the physical sensation of standing in its courtyard. “Kahn was involved solely with the physical experience of physical form: with Empathy, though he did not call it that,” Vincent Scully wrote, 12 years after Kahn's death. Kahn's empathy is rarely contested, though the words he used to express it often are – for example, his famously having asked bricks what they “want to be.” What scholars seem to disagree about most is the source of Kahn's empathy – what it meant in practice, how it shaped his approach to problems of architectural form, and what those forms contribute to our understanding of modernity and “the haunting sorrows of twentieth century experience.” For the 50 years since its completion, the Salk Institute has served not only as a laboratory for the study of biological science, which continues to thrive; it has also served as a laboratory for the study of modern architectural history and theory, which leverages the building's magnetism in its evolving assessments of form, function, technology, and representation. Yet as well traveled a topic as Salk is, there are many ways of doing it justice. For its part, this chapter will further explore these themes through Kahn's approach to construction, in particular his use of concrete, which Adrian Forty describes as “a process rather than a material,” a property befitting both Salk's client and its program.
Kharga Market: Hassan Fathy
Authors: Radoine Hassan 
Published: March 2017

Abstract
Beyond the common discourse of regionalism as an academic construct, and seeking a grounded architecture, as a social and cultural practicum, the phenomenon of Hassan Fathy and his legacy in contemporizing the vernacular is of twofold importance: first, in terms of how to dismantle the myth of contextualism as a community‐based building and design process; and second in terms of how to anchor architectural permanency through local know‐how. Hassan Fathy (1900–89), was a key architect in the Middle East, mainly Egypt, who attempted to counterbalance the machinery of modernism, which was explored then by bureaucrats as an alibi for a “progressive architecture,” in order to build with the local community. In order to elucidate what Fathy embarked upon in terms of launching what I term a “constructive regionalism” for his peculiar milieu, this chapter sets a conceptual framework for his discourse and practice vis‐à‐vis mainstream regionalist approaches. The Kharga Market located in the newly designed village of New Bariz (1963) by Hassan Fathy is taken herein as an example to discuss the above questions. Exploring both theoretical and practical reflection on Hassan Fathy's chef‐oeuvre will enable the reader to grasp how regionalism can be revisited so as to convey grass‐roots lessons about generating an architecture of resilience versus that of vain aesthetics of monotonous internationalism.
Parc de La Villette: Bernard Tschumi
Authors: Czerniak Julia 
Published: March 2017

AbstractAcross time and discipline, the Parc de la Villette – the competition for its design, the winning project by Bernard Tschumi, and the built work – has sponsored a vast amount of discourse and debate within architecture, landscape architecture, and urbanism. Since 1976, when the first ideas competition was held, to the present, its impact and import have seemed wildly diverse depending upon the lens through which it is viewed: the socialist agenda of President François Mitterrand'sGrands Projets; the deconstructivist ambitions of architecture at the time; or through its contribution to ongoing discussions about the history, theory, and practice of making urban parks.
Kunsthal: Rem Koolhaas/oma
Authors: Gargiani Roberto 
Published: March 2017

Abstract

A decisive work in the creative process of Rem Koolhass, the Kunsthalle represents the synthesis of post‐rationalist and sur‐realist architectural tendencies, where the
promenade architecturale
becomes a trajectory, where the scheme of the Domino skeleton becomes a juxtaposition identifying each part of the building, where the metropolitan dimension permeates the very essence of its architecture with pathways of various kinds, and where ultimately there still remains a Koolhaasean secret metaphor of a permanent drift through architecture's territories.