A Little House [2 ed.] 9783035620696, 9783035620665

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LE CORBUSIER

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L I T T L E

H O U S E

BIRKHÄUSER

A L IT T L E H O U SE

The region

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site...

The region – is the Lake of Geneva where the terraced vines rise one above the other. If you were to place the Une Petite Maison.indd 4

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01.04.2008 12:27:09 Uhr

walls that support them end on end, they would total 30,000 kilometres (three quarters of a trip round the world!). The vine growers certainly know their job! Their work is meant to last for centuries, perhaps for a thousand years. This little house will shelter my father and mother in their old age, after a life of hard work. My mother is musician, my father a nature-lover. 1922, 1923 I boarded the Paris–Milan express several times, or the Orient Express (Paris–Ankara). In my pocket was the plan of a house. A plan without a site? The plan of a house in search of a plot of ground? Yes! The main points of the plan. First: the sun is to the south (that’s something!). The Lake spreads out to the south, backed by the hills. The Lake and the Alps mirrored in it are in front, lording it from east to west. That is some sort of setting for my plan: facing south, its length is a living-room four metres in depth, but sixteen metres long. The window, by the way, is eleven metres long (one window, mind you!). Point number two: “the machine for living”. Dimensions precisely adapted to individual functions permit maximum exploitation of space. The arrangement is practical and spatially economical. Through a minimum use of space for each function the total surface area was fixed at 50 square metres. The finished plan of the single-storeyed house, including all approaches, covers a surface of sixty square metres.

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A circuit

onsequence: a circuit. 1. the road; 2. the garden gate; 3. the front door; 4. the cloakroom (with the oil-heating apparatus); 5. the kitchen; 6. The wash-house (with cellar stairs); 7. the exit to the courtyard; 8. the living-room; 9. the bedroom; 10. bath; 11. drying- and linen-room; 12. small bed-sitting room for guest; 13. roofed loggia looking out on to the garden; 14. the front of the house and the window of eleven metres; 15. the staircase to the roof. 6

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ith the plan in our pockets we spent a long time looking for a site. After considering several, one day we discovered the right one from the top of a hill (1923). It was on the lakeside and might be said to have been waiting specially for the little house. The vine-grower and his family who sold it were very obliging and agreeable. The sale was toasted.

We discovered the site

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Geography

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he geographical situation confirmed our choice, for at the railway station twenty minutes away trains stop which link up Milan, Zurich, Amsterdam, Paris, London, Geneva and Marseille... 8

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he plan is tried out on the site and fits it like a glove. Four metres from the window is the lake and four metres behind the front door the road. The area to be kept up measures three hundred square metres and offers an unparalleled view, which cannot be spoilt by building, of one of the finest horizons in the world.

The plan is tried out ... 9

The section

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he height of the house is two and a half metres (the regulation minimum). It resembles along box lying on the ground. The rising sun is caught at one end by a slanting skylight, and for the rest of the day it passes on 10 10

its circuit in front of the house. Sun, space and greenness – what more could be wanted? We are on ground that has been embanked for a hundred years. This does not prevent the lake-water, the level of which rises and falls eighty centimetres every year, from penetrating behind the supporting wall. This entails certain consequences of which we at first knew nothing. “Four metres away from the lake!” said people; “You are crazy! You will have rheumatism and the glare from the lake will be intolerable.” “People” don’t observe or think. When a kettle boils over, where is the steam? Above the kettle, but not beside it. Rheumatism from damp (and rheumatism in general) attacks those living on the hills at an altitude of fifty to one hundred metres. The damp is above the kettle! And the glare from the lake? The sun passes in front of us from east to west and reaches its zenith only at the summer solstice. The angle of incidence will never pass through the little house. It reaches – and dazzles – those living on the hills at an altitude of fifty to a hundred metres. “People” know nothing of the angle of incidence.

The little house was built in 1923 / 24 according to the plans of Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret. 11 11

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T H E L IT T L E H O U SE

The landscape (drawing by L-C, 1921)

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y father lived one year in this house. The scenery fascinated him. During his hard-working life high up in the mountains of Neuchatel at an altitude of a thousand metres he had opened our eyes to the wonders of nature. The countryside there was barren and rough. On one side, blocking the horizon, was the last range of mountains, the last step of the staircase which climbs the Jura from the French Rhone, on the other side the deep defile formed by the Doubs. This valley was secluded and formerly quite uninhabited; for seven centuries it has been a place of refuge. But the inclemency of the climate induces those who feel inclined and have the possibility of doing so, to descend one day to the Lake of Geneva where the vine grows. 15

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n 1923 our “Chemin Bergère” here was an almost deserted track, an old Roman road which linked the diocese of Sion with those of Lausanne and Geneva. In 1930 there came a change, for the road authorities chose

The road

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The entrance

this old track for the straightening of the international Simplon road. Since then the din of traffic has banished what was once an Arcadian silence. By chance, the little house faced in the other direction and was protected. 17

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uilding costs were extremely low. The contractor did not take architecture of this kind any too seriously. I was in Paris and had to rely on him! The walls were

The garden gate

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The door is behind the hydrangea

built of hollow blocks of cement concrete and sand (good conductors of heat and cold, and hence poor material). 19

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or this reason the northern side had one day to be revetted with shingles of galvanized iron plate, as are often used on farm-houses in the Jura to protect them against the weather. This useful armour looks very attractive.

The northern side revetted with shingles of galvanized iron plate

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Just at that time commercial aviation was developing, with its cockpits of corrugated aluminium (Breguet). Without meaning to be so, the little house was right up to date.

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he object of the wall seen here is to block off the view to the north and east, partly to the south, and to the west; for the ever-present and overpowering scenery on all sides has a tiring effect in the long run. The wall that blocks off the view

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The platform for the dog

Have you noticed that under such conditions one no longer “sees”? To lend significance to the scenery one has to restrict it and give it proportion by taking a radical decision; the view must be blocked by walls which are only pierced at certain strategic points. 23

Giving a human scale

The following solution was chosen: the walls to north, east and south enclose the small garden ten metres square like a cloister garth and convert it into a green hall. To please the dog (and this is important in a home) a small platform was built with a railing through which he 24

could see the feet of those passing down the road. And the dog enjoys himself! He rushes over the twenty metres from the railing of his platform to the one on the garden gate and barks distractedly! Giving a human scale

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he south wall was nevertheless pierced with a square aperture (object on a human scale) which opens up part of the view and provide shade and coolness.

Suddenly the wall comes to an end

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The trick has been played!

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uddenly the wall comes to an end and the spectacle is revealed: light, space, the lake and the mountains ... The trick has been played! 27

A pillar

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he house wall is here four metres in lenght. Through the garden door, then three steps and one reaches the garden loggia. The roof of the loggia rests on a pillar consisting of a metal tube six centimetres in diameter. 28

The position it occupies at the intersection with the old lake wall produces a noteworthy feature: a right-angled cross – coordinated with the water and the mountains.

Four metres ...

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e enter the house. The window eleven metres in length gives it style! The part played by the window is an innovation, for it becomes the main feature, the chief attraction in the

The sash, the sill, the lintel

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Through this skylight penetrates the rising sun

house. The proportions inside the house must be adapted to the height of the windowsill, the lintel and the division of the curtains (“a good plan for a house begins with the curtain poles” – dixit Corbu), very slender posts (iron A good plan begins with the curtain poles ... → 31

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tubes eight centimetres in diameter, filled with cement and iron and fixed to the lintel). Few hatches (for comfort and economy) etc.... Expressive shape of the window. We shall soon see it again from outside.

Pillar

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The eleven metres long window from outside

he roller and mechanism of the shutters are outside. This prevents the cold air from penetrating through the traditional roller case. 35

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he window is thus the sole feature on this elevation.

The window

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A genuine “architectural element”

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ut at the furthest extremity there is a “genuine architectural element” (with apologies to Vignole!): a board which serves as a seat, and behind it three small 37

Architecture

horizontal grille windows which give light to the cellar. That is enough to make for happines (if you don’t agree, please pass on!) 38

We climb ...

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We climb up onto the roof

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Fifteen or twenty centimetres of earth

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e climb up onto the roof – a pleasure known to some civilisations in former centuries. The reinforced concrete forms the terrace roof and, with fifteen or twenty centimetres of earth, the “roof garden”. Here we are on top! We are in the middle of the dogdays; the grass is parched. What does it matter, for each tiny leaf gives shade and the compact roots insulate from heat and cold. They regulate the temperature without costing anything or requiring any upkeep. 41

Here, the overflow pipe for rainwater

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ere is the overflow pipe for rainwater. It goes right through the house (as also the pipes for the wash-basins, the bath, the sink, etc.). 42

One of the skylights (glass plates, fastened with bitumen) which illuminate the wash-room, the drying-room ...

A skylight

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The wild geraniums ...

ay attention! It is towards the end of September. The autumn flowers are blossoming and the roof is green once more, for a thick carpet of wild geraniums has overgrown everything. It is a wonderful sight. In spring the young grass sprouts up with its wild flowers; in summer it is

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... in autumn

high and luxuriant. The roof garden lives independently, tended by the sun, the rain, the winds and the birds which bring the seeds. (Latest news, April 1954: the roof is completely blue with forgetme-nots. No one knows how they arrived.) 45

I on?

s it a ship’s rail or the wall of the roof we are leaning

Walking on the roof ...

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A privilege hitherto reserved exclusively for cats. We return to earth Getting down from the roof ...

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Here was once the weeping willow

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ook! After almost thirty years the outer wall displays scars, warped parts of the tar. These are the wrinkles, inflammations and rheumatisms of the house. Let us not forget that in 1923 this site was as bare as a board; only a cherry-tree tied to its support produced three little twigs. Today there is plenty of shade and the sunshine is well distributed. As soon as the building was finished, planting began – a fir, a poplar, a weeping willow, an acacia, a paulownia – all young trees, mere whipper-snappers. 48

As I have already mentioned, the lake-water penetrates behind the supporting wall. The sun beats down, the earth gets warm, the water is tepid and the trees grow... The cherry-tree has grown up into a fine specimen and provides my mother with enough cherries to make jam for the whole year. Scars ...

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The fir? It had to be felled, for its shadow didn’t suit the poplar. The poplar? It grew enormous. It was sawn right through the middle and then removed entirely, since its roots began to tickle (at a distance) the modest foundaThere remains only the paulownia

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A cherry-tree. The paulownia

tions of the little house. The acacia? It kept the sun off the lettuce-beds next door and so it too was removed. The weeping willow? It wept too much and took the sunshine off the bedroom. It bathed its leaves in the lake and was every inch a poet! But nevertheless it had to go! 51

So there remains only the paulownia with its big, silly leaves. Its trunk is enormous and is covered with ivy like a spring meadow with dandelions. Undismayed it pushes out branches in all directions and defies the laws of statics. Each year one of its branches is cut off, that is to say the one that has become intolerable. A cherry-tree. The paulownia

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Water

This last photograph to be taken from the lake shows the two survivors – the cherry-tree and the paulownia. Four metres away from the house front the old wall holds off the blue waters of the Lake of Geneva, which are often consumed with devastating fury, the “Vaudeyre” as it is called in these parts. 53

H OU S E S T O O CAT CH T H E W H O O P IN G -COU GH

The water-tight cellar became a floating boat

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t was to be expected that something would happen. Don’t forget that this was a very inexpensive house. It was attacked by a strange affliction, for it cracked right across in one place. The impermeability of the roof prevented a catastrophe. But it was important to know what was the matter, so we made investigations.

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When the water is high, the butt-hinge on the roof  works!

One day we were told that the houses on the shores of the Lake of Geneva get cracks at high water which close up again when the water level sinks. A strange way to breathe! Archimedes stated that any body dropped into a liquid is subject to an upward thrust equal to the weight of the displaced liquid... 57 57

In addition, the aluminium protects against heat and rain

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With astonishment we noticed that the little cellar in the most westerly bay of the house – a water-tight cellar – becomes a floating boat when the water is high and thus receives the upward thrust of which the late lamented Archimedes was so fond. It should here be explained that the authorities lower the level of the lake eighty centimetres once a year by opening the Rhone lock-gates in Geneva and thus enable those living on the banks to carry out any necessary repairs. Every year the walls of the old houses on the lakeside get cracks which worry no one. The tiled roofs are hardly affected. But a concrete house with cracks cuts a poor figure. A butt-hinge of pliable copper-plate was constructed on the roof terrace. But in order to avoid the annual excitement of watching an experiment in physics the south elevation was covered with an aluminium facing. This was what was done.

Note : The photographs were taken, in keeping with L-C’s instructions, by Mademoiselle Peter, photography teacher in Vevey. 59

D R AW IN G S F RO M T H E Y E A R 1945

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wenty years after this little house was built I indulged in the relaxation of making some drawings of it. They confirm the architectural features implied in the simple solution of 1923, a period when the search for a suitable form of house was not a question which exercised people’s minds very much. The last drawing of September 1951 was done in celebration of my mother’s ninety-first birthday. 63

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T H E CR IME

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hen the little house had been completed in 1924 and my father and mother were able to move in, the municipal council of a neighbouring commune met to decide that a building of this kind constituted “a crime against nature”. Fearing lest it might nevertheless give rise to competition (who knows?) they forbade it ever to be imitated ... 80

CONTENT A LITTLE HOUSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 THE LITTLE HOUSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 HOUSES TOO CATCH THE WHOOPING-COUGH . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 DRAWINGS FROM THE YEAR 1945. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 THE CRIME . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79

Afterword

LIVES OF AN ILLUSTRIOUS LITTLE HOUSE  Guillemette Morel Journel Three quarters of a century have passed since the first publication of the text reprinted here in facsimile. In 1954, Le Corbusier dedicated one of his smallest books, Une petite maison, to one of his smallest works. His decision to come back to this modest construction of just sixty square metres more than thirty years after its construction in 1924, in Vevey on the shores of Lake Geneva, clearly demonstrates how important this “little house”, also known as the “Villa Le Lac”, was to him: he had in fact designed it for his beloved parents, and envisioned it “as an ancient temple at the water’s edge” (letter to his wife Yvonne, 11 September 1924). Beyond its sentimental value, a further specificity of the “little house” is that it inspired many descriptions by Le Corbusier. Thus, the way the house was designed, the construction process, its functional logic, the spatial devices it implemented and even its “life” over the years were examined in detail by its own designer. Le Corbusier came to adopt a dual, interchangeable posture of both author (of a text) and creator (of a piece of architecture), the former being the official interpreter of the latter. An interpreter, but also a theoretician: presenting his own buildings also afforded Le Corbusier opportunities to formulate or illustrate elements of doctrine. The successive volumes of his Œuvre complète issued since 1930 by the Zurich-based publisher Hans Girsberger, who also published the original edition of Une petite maison, attest to this principle: “It remains a useful exercise, I repeat, to constantly study one’s own work. An awareness of the path travelled is the springboard of progress”, exclaimed Le 86

Corbusier in a 1929 conference. To properly understand the 1954 book one must therefore situate it in the long time frame in which Le Corbusier spoke of the “little house”.

Forty years of descriptions The first public description of Villa Le Lac appeared even before its construction began on 28 December 1923 in Paris-Journal, a daily newspaper. Le Corbusier was quoted extensively in the piece and availed of the opportunity to respond to the criticisms expressed by his former master Auguste Perret regarding the long window. The article is illustrated with a plan and a perspective of the rear of the house, with the outline of the Alps visible in the distance; the architect states: “Only one side of the house has a real window, but it runs along the whole width of the façade and suffices amply to illuminate the whole house; for, not only do its dimensions admit enough light, but at both ends it meets the adjoining side walls at a right angle. These white walls direct the view straight out into the landscape, unobstructed by any reveal. [ …] To the sentimental eye, this house lacks in elegance. But we will not have it accused of being uncomfortable.” What Le Corbusier is proposing therefore goes beyond the technical aspect of lighting to focus on more ambitious goals relating to strictly architectural concerns: the relationship between inside and outside (a fundamental point of so-called modern architecture) and the staging of views over the wider landscape. Three years later, in 1926, the house was given its first “official” presentation, by Le Corbusier himself, in his book Almanach d’architecture moderne: three pages of photographs, featuring 87

three exterior views and one interior, in which he revives the famous controversy with Perret. The pages contain no text, merely captions, all pithy with the exception of the one for the inside view of the ribbon window, positioned vertically to fully occupy the page: “The window is 10.75 m long. In winter, the scenery ‘is right there’ as if you were in the garden. As a result, the days are no longer sad; from dawn to dusk, nature unfurls its metamorphoses.” While the 1923 article shifts from technical considerations to theory, the 1926 caption takes the reader into the realms of psychology and metaphysics! It is also significant that it is the “long window” of his dear parents’ house that is summoned by Le Corbusier to defend what will become a sort of compulsory attribute in his grammar of composition, the famous doctrine of the “five points of a new architecture”. The window of the “little house”, a fundamental part of the “machine for living” Shortly afterwards, the first volume of the Œuvre complète, covering the period 1910–29, devoted a double page to the “Petite villa au bord du lac Léman 1925”. The plan (curiously captioned in German) and a longitudinal section are accompanied by seven photographs. All are minimally labelled – “Façade”, “The Garden”, etc. – with the exception, again, of an interior shot of the window view on the lake: “A window on a human scale”; paradoxically, no human figure appears on this image, in keeping with the conventions of architectural photography of the time. The text, free of any affect, sets out “the initial problem”; the method of solving the said problem – “we adopted an approach that went against conventional practices”, namely through the 88

rational, needs-based development of the “machine for living”; the search for a suitable site for this machine; and, finally, a brief description, again very factual (figures abound), of the elements of the house and how it functions. While the project’s chronology is unusual and for all intents and purposes incoherent, Le Corbusier faith in it is unwavering and the 1954 book, he did not hesitate to assert in: “A plan without a site? […] Yes.” (p. 5). In the chapter/lecture on “The plan of the modern house”, published in 1930 in his Précisions sur un état présent de l’architecture et de l’urbanisme, Le Corbusier refers to the “little house” without naming it. After having stated that “the architectural revolution [ …] involves different factors – 1. Classification, 2. Dimensioning, 3. Circulation, 4. Composition, 5. Proportioning” –, he illustrates the second and third points by referring to “the series of reasoned actions that presided over the construction” of the house. The text, lively in tone in keeping with the rhetorical requirements of the lecture format, alternates interrogative, nominal, imperative and affirmative sentences with verbs in the past or present tense, an abundant use of punctuation marks and striking adjectives. It contrasts with the great economy of means attributed to the three illustrations that accompany the subject: a rough sketch of the view from the site; an addition of the surfaces of each room, presented didactically; and finally a rudimentary plan of the house, on which the width of the building is indicated as well as the long window looking out to the landscape: “The house is 4 metres wide. Inside, this house of 57 square metres offers a 14-metre perspective! The 11-metre-long window introduces the immensity of the outdoors, the unfalsifiable unity of a lakeside landscape with its storms or 89

radiant calm.” The emphasis on the 14-metre perspective, written in italics, signals that this is the feature upon which the project hinges: creating beauty and greatness from something small. As is often the case in Le Corbusier’s architectural and literary writing, the figure of the oxymoron regulates the creative choices, which are constructed on a series of binary oppositions to be transcended. Time passes. After twenty-five years of silence broken only by Une petite maison, Le Corbusier returns twice to the villa. First, in the synthetic volume of the Œuvre complète, 1910–60, published during his lifetime, and therefore under his control, which adds two pages to the presentation included in the first volume of the Œuvre complète (1910–29) in 1930. The self-referential nature of this re-publication is accentuated by the reproduction of pieces from the cover of Une petite maison, as well as by the reproduction of photos and drawings featured therein – in particular a sketch made for his mother’s birthday. The final presentation of the villa is given in his fictionalised autobiography, L’Atelier de la recherche patiente in 1960. On a single page, it combines almost all the elements invoked in the little book of 1954: memory, through a drawing that highlights the duality between the view framed by the square “window” cut into the garden wall and the panorama that opens up in front of the house; the large window and the relationship to the lake, through an old photo taken from the lake, the schematic analysis of the design process and the architectural solution, through a curious sketch combining plan and elevation, and finally the (sad) lesson of the story, with some bitter lines recalling the local authorities’ hostility to the project. 90

The first of the Carnets de la recherche patiente In the early 1950s, when Le Corbusier founded the collection entitled Carnets de la recherche patiente, he inaugurated it with a monograph dedicated to the Villa Le Lac, a decision that was doubt motivated by his personal attachment to this project, as mentioned earlier. The title of this collection is a reference to a concept he forged to designate the many facets of his artistic work: “patient search”. This concept, when joined to that of “workshop”, produced the title to his final book in 1960 as we have seen. The intensity of the architect’s commitment to the “little house” is again clearly expressed: a bookmark inserted into the original edition bears a text (now reproduced on the back cover) that states: “This little book tells the story of the house that Le Corbusier built in 1923 on the shores of Lake Geneva in Corseaux near Vevey for his mother. All texts and page layout by Le Corbusier.” Although this was not the first time he presented this construction, the story takes on a new dimension here: in the almost thirty years between its completion and the publication of the small volume, the architect and author had many opportunities to visit his mother – and the house – and to appreciate, the effects of passing time on both. It is the reproduction of this human and architectural “experience” that gives this little book its originality and savour. Une petite maison is presented as an 84-page booklet soft bound in a 16.5 cm by 12 cm format. The cover of the currently available reprint, featuring the roughly drawn plan of the house (taken from page 6) in its lower half, differs from that of the 91

original edition, left free of illustration by Le Corbusier, who composed it scrupulously. In including the plan, the current edition conceals the large space he had reserved for the title of the collection, which has completely disappeared as a result. On the contrary, the interior of the book leaves plenty room for images, whether deliberately unpolished drawings – some of which are, again, roughly coloured using flat tints of red or blue – or photographs: shots dating from the 1920s as well as a report conducted for the publication “in keeping with L-C’s instructions” as he does not fail to point out. When leafed through, the whole gives the impression of being a picture book because the photographs, reproduced in black and white, always cover a large surface of the page compared to the small format of the book: at least one side of each page is systematically printed full bleed. The quality of reproduction is deliberately poor; this is particularly evident in the view, to which, as always, Le Corbusier grants the place of honour: an interior perspective on the large window – in full double page (p. 32–33). In 2007, Catherine de Smet showed that the architect, author and publisher was particularly attentive to this coarse-textured effect, and was offended that the precious paper of the numbered deluxe edition did away with the evocative and not purely informative character of the photos processed in this way.1 Le Corbusier wrote the following ill-tempered note on the slip case of his copy: “This 'de luxe' edition is idiotic. I had asked for matte, even ‘puffy’ paper, and the photos were to be ‘grainy’ (as for newspapers) in order to let the mind move in and out of images merely intended to be indicative. The luxury paper used here has disqualified everything.” 92

What Le Corbusier wanted was therefore more an evocation than a realistic description, both in the style of the text and in the processing of the images. This intention was echoed by the rejection of any traditional graphic document: “I absolutely do not want any architectural photographs in this book. It must be abandoned once and for all”, he reiterated to his publisher in July 1954. But how then was his intention to be achieved: showing without explaining too much, telling without revealing everything? Five chapters, five approaches The body of the book is divided into five chapters of very unequal length and status, distinguished both by the nature of the information and the type and proportion of the images they contain. This general imbalance is attenuated by the double pages separating each of the chapters: they act somewhat as breathing spaces within the volume, which is otherwise very dense and even messy. The principle is always the same: the left page features a colour diagram, whose enigmatic character is reminiscent of certain drawings in the art book Le Corbusier published in 1955, Le Poème de l’angle droit; the right page displays the title of the section, written in small capitals, which gives it a paradoxically precious aspect. The titles of the chapters, which have little to do with those of a current architecture book, read as follows: 1. “A LITTLE HOUSE” (p. 4–11): Le Corbusier sets the scene in eight pages and six explanatory diagrams: the region, the clients, the “main points of the plan”, the “dimensions precisely adapted to individual functions” and the “consequences” he has drawn from the latter: “a circuit” illustrated by a plan (reproduced 93

on the “new” cover) punctuated by fifteen points along a kind of architectural promenade; the search for the site suitable to accommodate this plan and the construction of the house on this site: “a box lying on the ground”. 2. “THE LITTLE HOUSE”, (p. 14–53): the passage from the indefinite article “a” to the definite article “the” signals that we are entering into the heart of the matter; moreover, this chapter takes up half of the volume. Le Corbusier’s text pulls off the literary feat of being both a description and a narrative In a style that is often lyrical and aided by the thirty-six photos of the contemporary report (but without any drawings), he recounts the staging of the landscape in the small enclosed garden, the life of the house, the problems with cracks, the insulation, etc. It is not always a straightforward exercise because the creator of the building, who is also the author of the narrative describing it, combines several levels of observation – from the most conceptual to the most prosaic – and several periods: the construction of the house in the early 1920s; the change in the status of the road system in 1930; the later addition of metal shingles to thicken the façades; the ageing of the garden and its trees – not forgetting the dog’s enjoyment of the garden “(and this is important in a home)” … To ensure that his readers do not get too lost (in sixty square metres), Le Corbusier invites them on a guided tour – which does not exactly follow the “circuit” elaborated in the previous chapter but also leads from the façade on the road to the lake via the house. Inside, he enthuses about the “chief attraction of the house” (p. 31) and “the sole feature on this elevation” (p. 36) that is the large window. As mentioned, it is reproduced in a double 94

page to which a prosaic and quirky caption is appended: “a good plan for a house begins with curtain poles…”; this caption is all the more curious in that it is repeated, in the form of an ironic self-quotation, in the text itself (p. 31): (“a good plan for a house begins with curtain poles” – dixit Corbu)”. The said “Corbu” pops outside again quickly to go up to the roof, where he lingers to admire the view and the vegetation that grows spontaneously there; when he comes back down to earth, he describes at length the problems affecting the trees and the house, using medical metaphors (something he had been fond of doing since L’Esprit nouveau): “Look! After almost thirty years, the outer wall displays scars, warped parts of the tar. These are the wrinkles, inflammations and rheumatisms of the house.” (p. 48). 3. “HOUSES TOO CATCH THE WHOOPING COUGH” (p. 56– 59) continues in this pathological vein. This four-page interlude recounts, in the manner of pleasant anecdote, the cracks and movements caused by the rising waters of the lake, as well as the solution that was found to cover them up. It is illustrated with two didactic diagrams and a photo of the “patient’s” condition (the facade on the lake) after repair (“aluminium facing”). While it may shock today’s visitor, this envelope, which seems impure to us, does not seem to disturb Le Corbusier in the least. When changes made to his works suited him, he would justify them by saying: “life is always right”. 4. “DRAWINGS FROM THE YEAR 1945” (p. 63–77): the author offers himself “the relaxation of making some drawings” executed (he says) twenty years after the completion of the house … and then, ten years later, reproduces seven of them on double pages, with flat tints that are meticulously coloured (to the 95

point of clumsiness) added a posteriori. For Le Corbusier, they “confirm the architectural features implied in the simple solution of 1923, a time when the search for a suitable form of house was not a question which exercised people’s minds very much” (p. 63) – a manner of reminding us that the house was designed in a context of reflection on the concept of the “minimum house”, subsequently developed by the International Congresses of Modern Architecture (CIAM). The dates of these sketches does not seem to relate to any particular stage in the life of the house. So why specify them? No doubt to show that Le Corbusier’s attention to the “little house” has remained constant. Moreover, the last sketch, which celebrates the birthday of the person who was the spirit of this place – his mother – is dated 1951! 5. “THE CRIME” (p. 80): six lines – with the economy of classic tragedy – announce to the reader that, due to an administrative decision, this house could not be reproduced. The fact that this little book ends on such a pessimistic and dry note may come as a surprise, however, this is consistent with a rhetorical posture that remained dear to Le Corbusier throughout his life: presenting himself as the misunderstood martyr of modern architecture. All the same, even though bitterness seems to have the last word, what remains of the book is a view, a large window, a beloved mother, a house and trees that have lived.

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From narration to description, and vice versa According to the cover flap, as already mentioned, this book tells a story: that of the “little house”. However, to tell this story, Le Corbusier made many descriptions. The work opens with an incipit – “The site…” – which, with its suspended punctuation, triggers an intake of breath, similarly to the traditional formula “once upon a time …” It closes on the dramatic apex of the chapter entitled “The Crime” all the while using devices that are specific to the economy of the narrative, its purpose remains to “depict” a building. The famous phrase of the Ancients – ut pictura poesis – finds an indisputable defence and illustration in this book. We know that Le Corbusier adopts a double posture – as both subject and object – in many of his texts. In the case of the first of the Carnets de la recherche patiente, this duality becomes even more complex. Indeed, several more postures could be added to that of author and analysed architect: that of illustrator – the architect is the author of the drawings, whether explanatory (in the first and third chapters) or artistic (in the fourth chapter) –, that of art director for the photographic report (second chapter) –, and finally that of graphic designer and production manager (layout design, verification of the tint used for the photographs, choice of paper), or even that of press officer and commercial agent, as when he interfered with the distribution of the book. The archives kept at the Fondation Le Corbusier bear ample witness to these roles played in turn or simultaneously: successive scale models, manuscript, three stages of typing, sketches, correspondence with the publisher, internal notes, etc. 97

In the end, the “composition based on antithesis and paradox” in the conceptual and material dimensions of the “little house”, as highlighted by Bruno Reichlin in his masterly structural analysis of the project2, is reproduced in the way in which Le Corbusier presents this same construction thirty years later, through image and text: the levels of discourse overlap, when they do not contradict – even if, ultimately, it is in this complexity that the book object finds its coherence and autonomy.

Translated from French by Garry White

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1

 atherine de Smet, Vers une architecture du livre. Le Corbusier, édition et mise en pages, C 1912–1965 (Baden: Lars Müller Publishers, 2007)

2

 runo Reichlin, “La ‘petite maison’ à Corseaux, une analyse structurale”, in Le Corbusier B à Genève (Lausanne: Payot, 1987)

BOOK DESIGN AND LAYOUT BY LE CORBUSIER Library of Congress Control Number: 2020931272 Bibliographic information published by the German National Library The German National Library lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, re-use of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in other ways, and storage in databases. For any kind of use, permission of the copyright owner must be obtained. New edition of the first edition of 1954 This publication is also available as an e-book: ISBN 978-3-0356-2069-6 as well as in a French language edition: print (ISBN 978-3-0356-2065-8), e-book (ISBN 978-3-0356-2070-2); and in a German language edition (ISBN 978-3-0356-2067-2), e-book (ISBN 978-3-0356-2068-9) © 2020 Birkhäuser Verlag GmbH, Basel P.O. Box 44, 4009 Basel, Switzerland Part of Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston © 2020 Fondation Le Corbusier, Paris Printed on acid-free paper produced of chlorine-free pulp. TCF ∞ Printed in Germany 987654321 ISBN 978-3-0356-2066-5 www.birkhauser.com