Back to the Future

'Everything proceeds from everything else' – Leonardo Da Vinci – Notebooks.

 

           The Leonardo table by Designalexable is a 3D representation of the Da Vinci drawing proportions of the human figure according to Vitruvius. Being involved in any creative area intensifies the curiosity about where ideas come from, even though it is not difficult to see how an idea such as the Leonardo table comes into being. It is simply a case of looking at an artwork as an influence for something new; a two dimensional Renaissance picture becoming a three-dimensional object formed from modern materials. Although the primary influence for turning an old image into a modern table came from my interest in the work of the Italian artist Fornsetti. This made me wonder why; especially in architectural education, there appears to be an absence in teaching about the history of design. As David Hockney says in Secret Knowledge, “we seem to live in an arrogant age and the idea that there is not much to learn from the past is rather disturbing”. This is all the more curious when we look at modern design icons and we trace their roots and influences from the past. 

 

          With very little research we can see that the Mies cantilever chair of 1926 has its seed in the Victorian metal rocking chair of 1850. It is not that the design was copied, but that technology allowed a solution, which in the case of the metal rocking chair was to emulate in metal what was already being made in wood. With the Barcelona chair we might see the seed of the design in the Roman 'X' framed chair of AD 250 and the multiple variations of this that followed. Don't get me wrong, the Barcelona chair is indeed beautiful; and it is genius to make something that appears so modern, even today, from slight variations to a design that had been in existence for centuries.

          The Casa Malparte on the island of Capri may have its root in the stone stair behind the Italian author. Consciously or sub-consciously it is a form that has a particular Italian origin. This does not detract from it being remarkable to see that form reinvented to become an entire elevation of a house.

         The idea that an idea comes from a pristine virgin birth is misleading. Designs have their own inbuilt evolution that starts with the seed of inspiration that is wrapped around a problem to be solved. None of us likes problems, but we should because problems are the starting point of creativity. It therefore stands to reason that when faced with a problem the natural thing to do is to look at how other people might have tried to solve it. Buildings are complex objects that contain a strong visual element and it should not surprise us that in an age when architecture is presented in images that architects are affected by images.

            We might therefore look at Cranfield School by Foster and see Corbusier's Maison Monol (1920). And in the Maison Monol we might see inspiration from the Hed Sed Court at the Step Pyramid, which is itself a stone manifestation of the Arab huts on the salt mashes of the Euphrates (situated in modern day Iraq). When we perceive it as part of a history 'Modernism' does not seem so modern.

              A building that has always attracted me is The Glass Pavilion (1914) by Bruno Taut. I looked at the model of this and using Photoshop, stretched it until I found that it looked a little like 'St Mary Axe'. It is well known that Foster is a big fan of Bruno Taut and I would love to know if this was the origin of 'the Gherkin'. I don't know if it was, but I do know that a knowledge of history is necessary for this form of game playing. As Foster said in his TED talk (Munich, Germany Jan 2007), “as an architect you design for the present, with an awareness of the past, for a future that is unknown”.

        Following this thread I noticed that the Bruno Taut Chicago Building (1922) and the Saudi tower by Foster may also be related.

        As do the Aalto Finnish Pavilion for the NYC expo (1939) and Foster's Wallbrook (2010) development.

       Similar solutions will produce similar forms and a preference for a 'traditional' or a 'modernist' form should be seen as absurd as each solution should be defined by its own context. Of course, in examples such as the Millennium Dome and its antecedent, the Dome of Discovery at the Festival of Britain (1954), this context can be symbolic. The Alvaro Silva museum in Port Alegre, Brazil (2009) appears to have an influence from Corbusier's Palace of Justice, Chandigarh, India (1953). These are different buildings with different uses. So, rather than the idleness of imitation, we might consider this as the passing of the baton of history. There are residues in the modern, that even if we are not aware of them, give the building substance. As Goethe said: 'Tradition is the tending of the fire, not the worship of the ashes'. 

 

          The Balancing Barn in Suffolk, England by MVRDV with Mole Architects (2009) may be a relative of the Mausoleum Presidente Castelo Branco in Fortaleza, Brazil (1970) by the architect Sergio Bernardes. But the Mausoleum itself contains strong influences from the work of the Italian architect Carlo Scarpa.

         Could the seed of inspiration for The Sage in Gateshead by Foster be The Japanese Pavilion by Shineru Ban with Frei Otto and Buro Happold at the expo in 2000? This has a similar source to the Weald and Downland Museum Gridshell (2002) by Edward Cullinan Architects with Buro Happold acting as Engineers. The Japanese pavilion itself draws on a Japanese past and a technique of construction using lightweight materials that goes back centuries, although reinterpreted to the point of invention.

             The proposal for the Gwanggyo City Centre by MVRDV Architects (2009) looks like a very modern product - a product of the concerns of today - and yet The Crystal Chain (1919) by Walter Gropius has similarities and was conceived before 'green' was considered a design objective.

              History continues, often presenting itself as 'modern', from the proposal by Mies for a Glass skyscraper (1920) to the Herzog & de Meuron at Cottbus University Library, Germany (2010). “Genius”, as Einstein noted, “is being able to hide your sources”.

          Gropius designed the Kapp Putch Memorial in 1921 but it looks like any number of projects from the late 1990s. But, what was Gropius looking at? An early design by Gropius is The Block House, which is essentially a traditional timber frame house on the Scandinavian model. Timber frame houses, both the English and Scandinavian forms are prefabricated modules with site finished, lightweight, infill panels. Soon after designing 'The Block House' Gropius became seen as the innovator of prefabrication. What I understood when studying this was that Gropius translated a traditional vernacular technique into modern materials and construction methods, and in doing so, 'invented' a new form of construction. From the old came the new through a way of seeing, not from how the thing looked, but the idea embedded within it.

             The Louvre Pyramid by I. M. Pei (1989) is not the radical piece of modern architecture it was once said to be. The Pyramid form is ancient and it was Napoleon who re-discovered the Egyptian sites, bringing his findings back to the Louvre which became the centre for Egyptology (see History of Napoleon, Vincent Cronin). So the form of the visible part of the building (most of it is underground) is locked into the history of the Louvre. The glass pyramid further respects this context, since the pyramid form has a smaller mass than a comparable rectangular enclosure. The transparent nature of the building further reduces its impact as the main Louvre building can be seen through it. The building may be modern, but it continually reinforces its context and this makes it a better solution than a more traditional approach. Although, what could be more traditional at the centre of Egyptology than a pyramid?

            'Modern' architecture likes to portray itself as original and yet when we look at the Seti I complex at Abydos, Egypt we can see many modern buildings with echoes of that simple form. 

         About three years ago Designalexable created a design by inverting the contours of the River Thames as the structure and making a viewing platform with the underside in polished stainless steel to reflect the river for The World Turned Upside Down Café, London. For me, the interesting thing is that similar forms, the contour ribs that form the structure have since appeared elsewhere. For example, Zmianatematu Café in Poland by xm3 Architects and again in an even closer resemblance in Greenhouse by Jenny Sabin in the USA. 

          The Designalexable design was completed before the others, but was never built or published, so could not have been seen. How could such similar ideas all come about in different parts of the world, completely independent of each other? Could it be that ideas have their time and emerge simultaneously when the possibility for their existence comes into being or could it simply be that a progression of other ideas that have become a common currency lead to particular forms? It could be the progression of technology, the progression of ideas or the progression of fashions or forms. Whatever the route of a design, it seems that everything is part of a progression of something else. That progression can be corralled together in one simple word: History.

 

          So, History is not the enemy of innovation. It combines with contemporary culture to play with the present: Juno (goddess of childbirth) becomes a film about teenage pregnancy; Flora (Goddess of well-being) becomes a margarine, Nike (God of competition worshipped for winning) becomes a sports brand, Dido (Greek heroine sacrificed for love) becomes a singer of 'torch songs', Think of the pharmaceutical company Roche (C14th Saint protector against the plague) or the song 'Cecilia' by Simon and Garfunkel (St Cecilia patron saint of music). Hermes (messenger of the gods) becomes a fashion house, Minerva (as in Minerva books) takes its name from Minerva goddess of wisdom and art. The list goes on and on, embedded in attitudes, language and place names. If you live in London you will know the names Kings Cross, Brent Cross, and Charring Cross. These are names that mark the route of the funeral procession of Queen Eleanor. Edward I was so distressed at his wife's death that when carrying her back to Westminster wherever the funeral procession stopped he planted a cross (London. William Gaunt p74). And an awareness of that history creates a thread through the city, a different way of seeing. The most important thing about you as a designer is 'now', but 'now' has a context, 'now' has a history and this can be significant in the creation of the future. The past can be a generator of the future. Architects and designers always use history because to be interested in design is to be interested in design history and designers are affected by the designs they admire. Education and architectural education in particular, should not try to ignore this vast resource of ideas as it is not only a loss to the design world, but all those that live in a designed environment and in the 'modern world' that is almost all of us.