Swiss Sensibility: The Culture of Architecture in Switzerland 9783035609226, 9783035611281

Citation preview

M

on

1: 900,000

Ro

p

,p

.2

00

82

14 4

p.

p.

n,

t,

or

se

rh

is

te

Bo

at

n

M

so

ut

m

H

Ca

sa

se

ai

GENEVA

te

Ba

M

M

ai

so

n

Ro

du

it

,p

.1 52

Ex

te

ns

io

n

of

th

e

H

is

to

ry

M

us

eu

m

,p

.2 10

Ri

co

la

H

Re n Ap ov a a er N r t tio b at m n Ce u e a F nt o r n n e r ru a l S t B d E , p m w ui xt 3, im ldi en .6 p. m n g s 0 72 i n , B i o n g lä o Po s f ol iri Ba s, ng se p. , p l Y 5 4 . 4 ou 0 th

BASEL

BERN

H

os

te

l,

p.

32

Cr

im

in

al

Co

ur

ts

,p

sa

d’

,p .1 6

6

ld

.2

ba

,p

ar

te

G

ta

lla

Es

Vi

.1 90

Ca

Sa n G ot ta

Tr a

ne di ct ap el ,p .1 22

ew in g To w er ,p .1 04

T Re h e fu Ye gi llo Li w ep H tg ou Fo as se re ,p ,p st .9 .1 H 0 72 ut ,p .1 00

Ch

A v e te l rs i e r in Ba a F o rd ot ill , b r p. id 1 ge 7 8 2, p. 11 4

12 8

Be

6

St

p.

p.

e,

s,

us

th

ho

Ba

st

al

ue

m

G

er

o

Th

rd

Vi

Fi ni sh in g To w er ,p .1 62

ZURICH Sw is s Ra i lw ay s

or

Se

Sp

rv

ts

ic e

Ce

ci

er

Fa

nt

t,

30

at

.2

im

y, p

ül

lit

M p. 22 0

3

FOREWORD

121

PETER ZUMTHOR

122

St Benedict Chapel

5

MILLER & MARANTA

128

Thermal Baths

6

San Gottardo Guesthouse

135

16

Villa Garbald

25

BUCHNER BRÜNDLER

143

SAVIOZ FABRIZZI

26

Casa d’Estate

144

Maison Boisset

32

Renovation and Extension of

152

Maison Roduit

161

ANDREAS FUHRIMANN

TALKING TO PETER ZUMTHOR Anna Roos

Basel Youth Hostel 40

Apartment Building, Bläsiring

GABRIELLE HÄCHLER 46

BEAUTIFUL BUSINESS

162

Finishing Tower

R. James Breiding 171

VALERIO OLGIATI

HERZOG & DE MEURON

172

The Yellow House

54

Natural Swimming Pools

178

Atelier Bardill

60

Ricola Herb Center

71

DIENER & DIENER

72

Forum 3 189

BEARTH & DEPLAZES

81

NICKISCH WALDER

190

Criminal Courts

82

Base Camp Matterhorn

200

Monte Rosa Hut

90

Refugi Lieptgas 209

:MLZD

210

Extension of the History Museum

219

STUDIO VACCHINI

220

Sports Center Mülimatt

53

184

96

SWISS ARCHITECTURE

A CULTIVATED ORDINARINESS Irina Davidovici

FROM ELSEWHERE Niall McLaughlin 99

GION A. CAMINADA

100

Forest Hut

229

EM2N

104

Viewing Tower

230

Swiss Railways Service Facility

113

JÜRG CONZETT

114

Traversina Footbridge 2

238

CONDITIONS OF PRACTICE Jean-Paul Jaccaud

FOREWORD

Building in Switzerland’s alpine topography poses a significant challenge but, at the same time,

Francesco Borromini is widely known as an Italian

forces architects to think three-dimensionally

Renaissance architect, but he was actually born

from the onset. Though one can’t talk of a Swiss style

in Bissone near Lugano in the Old Swiss Confederacy.

per se, what is evident is a certain understatement

He began his career by following his father’s foot-

and a strong sense of belonging with the context.

steps as a stonemason. Le Corbusier originally came

The extreme weather impacts on detailing; keeping

from La Chaux-de-Fonds, a small town in canton

the icy cold out and the heat inside is vital to

Neuchâtel; his father painted delicate images onto

survival. Additionally, there are not many natural

the dials of watches. Peter Zumthor, one of the most

resources like oil and steel in Switzerland, so

revered contemporary architects, was born to a

architects have had to be innovative and use the

cabinet-maker and started his career as a carpenter.

natural resources they have had at their disposal in

These examples highlight the relationship that

abundance: stone and wood.

many Swiss architects have with craftsmanship and

If the definition of sensibility is having an acute

their intimate knowledge of working with mate-

awareness and responsiveness, then the archi-

rials. It is this deep understanding of the physical

tecture presented in this book shows in myriad ways

nature of making objects out of age-old materials—

Swiss architects’ keen sensitivity to their envi-

wood, stone, glass, concrete—that shines through

ronment and history, whether it be the restrained

the buildings of many Swiss architects, both histori-

renovation of an old farmhouse in Ticino or a

cally and today.

bold new sports center in Windisch; multistory apart-

Swiss Sensibility examines the rich and deep-

ment building in Basel city or a museum in Flims

rooted tradition of architecture in Switzerland, the

village. Buildings, both large and small, each display

sensibility of many Swiss architects and a perva-

the architect’s attention to detailing and material,

sive culture of architecture. That such a small, land-

beautiful craftsmanship and precise construction.

locked country has produced such wealth of fine

The chosen kaleidoscope of buildings—all designed

architecture is testament to this tradition. The volume

by Swiss architects and built in Switzerland

of work produced in Switzerland might not seem

during the past few decades—is intended to inspire

significant when compared with larger nations, but

the reader and to convey the admiration shared

the resonance and influence of the work is con-

by many. Each project is examined with the aid of

siderable. Swiss Sensibility traces the history of this

texts, photographs, and drawings. Twenty-five

trajectory, examining the country’s architectural pros-

projects from across the country by fifteen architec-

perity and the development of its many talented

tural practices are interspersed with four essays

architects.

by prominent intellectuals—three of whom are archi-

Why is it that architects in Switzerland have man-

tects—and an interview with a distinguished archi-

aged to achieve their standard of excellence? What

tect. Each text focuses on a different aspect of

are the forces at play that have combined to create

Swiss architecture: James Breiding looks at the his-

the fertile ground for the discipline to flourish?

toric development of architecture over the centuries,

Switzerland’s intricate linguistic and cultural borders,

Niall McLaughlin critically examines the phenom-

and the variety of its vernacular architecture, are

enon of Swiss architecture from the perspective of a

counterbalanced by its strong tradition of cosmo-

“pure outsider,” Irina Davidovici looks at the cultural

politanism. Switzerland has a large reservoir of small,

models on which the production of contemporary

creative practices that support a sophisticated

architecture in Switzerland is based, while Jean-Paul

culture of building design. This resource, coupled with

Jaccaud scrutinizes the conditions of practice in

an excellent standard of architectural education,

Switzerland, comparing and contrasting them with

high quality craftsmanship, and a tradition of open

Anglo-Saxon countries. The interview at the heart

competitions allowing new talent to emerge, are

of the book gives the reader a fascinating insight into

all aspects that influence the production of architec-

the intensely personal design process of the emi-

ture in this country. In most countries the role of

nent architect, Peter Zumthor.

the architect has been diminished, whereas in Switzer-

Swiss Sensibility is not about promoting a brand,

land architects still tend to have authorship of

but rather sets out to illustrate the broad approach

their work; steering their designs from the sketch

to a highly valued discipline. The book is an explo-

stage all the way through to the finished building.

ration of the difference and uniqueness that gives this small country its great architectural reputation and pays homage to architecture produced with dedication, passion, and integrity. Anna Roos

3

MILLER & MARANTA

My incentive to pick up a pencil in the morning at all, is the search for knowledge. Quintus Miller

5

MILLER & MARANTA

Having asked themselves how a contemporary

SAN GOTTARDO GUESTHOUSE

building might be constructed on the basis of a

GOTTHARD PASS

vernacular construction typology, the architects drew

2008–2010

their inspiration from rural buildings in canton Uri, where timber has been used within massive walls

For thousands of years the Gotthard Pass has been

since the fifteenth century. With great sensibility

an important threshold between north and south

they had to strike a balance between remaining true

Europe and for many centuries has played a signifi-

to the historic meaning of the building, while also

cant role in the economy and culture of central

acknowledging the present and creating a striking

Switzerland. Since the early thirteenth century, the

contemporary building. Their first strategy was

pass has been a vital trade route connecting different

to radically hollow out the building, leaving only the

cultures and language regions. Caravans of mer-

outer walls, with their elegant, double-bowed win-

chants transporting grain, wine, rice, and salt, even

dows, and the granite stair on the first level. Secondly,

entire armies trekked over the pass. During the

the building was raised by a level and finally the

nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the Gotthard

chapel and hostel were unified beneath an enormous

Pass was imbued with an almost mythological status

lead roof. By raising the building by one level

symbolizing the independence of Switzerland.

more rooms could be accommodated and the volume

Thus, as Alpentransversale, the pass is strategically,

could become more prominent, thus creating an

culturally, and historically significant.

optical focus on the Alp. It is the slender bell-tower

At the summit of the Gotthard Pass is a scattering

that divides the great faceted volume into two parts:

of buildings between two lakes; these include the

sacred/secular, chapel/hostel. The muted coarse

old lodgings—now a museum—and Hotel St Gotthard.

plaster and gray lead roof echo the color of the craggy

Archaeological artifacts indicate the presence of

rocks surrounding the building and blend it into

a chapel on the site since pre-Roman times, while the

the landscape.

hostel, alongside the chapel, has been dated to the

Logistically the construction of the building

year 1623. The two buildings have a history of misfor-

posed a daunting challenge, as there is only a short

tune: first they were destroyed by an avalanche in

window of snow-free time during summer when

1774 and then again by fire in 1905. Each reconstruc-

construction is viable. This constraint required inno-

tion left a layer of history.

vative thinking and meticulous planning. To radically

Thanks to support by the Fondazione Pro San

reduce in-situ construction time, the large timber

Gottardo, the revitalization and refurbishment of the

cladding elements for the interiors were assembled

structures was made possible. Six architectural

in the valley below and hauled up the mountain

practices were invited to take part in a competition.

where they could be rapidly installed. Clad entirely

Basel-based office, Miller & Maranta was awarded

with untreated, spruce wood, the individual rooms

the commission in 2005. As design professor

throughout have an almost monastic atmosphere

at Mendrisio Academy of Architecture in Ticino,

intended to intensify one’s perception of the majestic

Quintus Miller, with his partner Paola Maranta, play

and austere surrounding landscape. The precision

an important role in the architectural discourse in

of the carpentry is truly admirable. With the joinery,

Switzerland. Their work was showcased at the Venice

time-old vernacular Alpine architecture has been

Biennale in 2012.

interpreted in an intensely modern manner. At the same time, the wood-scented rooms still evoke an atmosphere of archaic beauty. It is the perfectly meted understatement one often sees in Swiss architecture that gives it its force. Each room has been named after previous distinguished visitors to the hostel from past eras: Goethe, Honoré de Balzac, and Petrarch to name a few. Nowadays the rooms cater for a new age of tourists: alpine cyclists and mountaineers. Architecturally, it is the monumental south front and the monolithic lead roof that have the greatest visual impact. Miller & Maranta has rejuvenated the building and elevated its status as is fitting for its historic and strategic significance on the Gotthard. Standing proud, facing southward, the building has a sense of self-evident belonging to the site, as if it had never been any different. The architecture is restrained, but it is also powerful.

6

For years this adage has accompanied us: “Tradition doesn’t mean preserving the ashes, but rather keeping the fires burning.” Miller & Maranta

7

8

9

10

11

12

SOUTH ELEVATION

1:200

13

3RD FLOOR 1ST FLOOR

1:200

14

SECTION

15

Rather than being built from bottom to top,

MILLER & MARANTA VILLA GARBALD

Villa Garbald is constructed from outside to inside.

CASTASEGNA

The structural core is the fireplace around which

2004

the staircase winds up from the seminar space on the ground floor towards the apex “depositing” bed-

Quintus Miller and Paola Maranta play a central

rooms as it spirals upward. The displacement of the

role in the production and discourse of architecture

rooms and the constant shifting of levels are trans-

in Switzerland. Their approach to architecture has

lated through to the freely floating apertures on

been strongly influenced by Aldo Rossi’s theories of

the facades. As the window frames are concealed and

Analogue Architecture absorbed while studying at

are flush with the reveals, the openings read like

the ETH in the 1980s. Part of their education involved

punctured bird holes in the four facades and empha-

analyzing ephemeral aspects of the discipline, like

size the three-dimensionality and abstract form

the emotional effect that architecture has on people

in-the-round. To echo the rustic texture of the

and the atmosphere of a space. With their analogue

enclosing garden walls, granite from the Maira River

architecture, they sought to embed architecture

was added as an aggregate to the concrete mix

into its setting and promote the creation of a strong

of the tower walls. To bring this aggregate to the fore-

relationship of a building to its context. According

ground, the concrete surfaces were etched with

to this theory, buildings should be ambiguous and

high-pressure water in a process called hydro-abra-

multi-faceted enabling them to be read in a variety

sion; this requires highly skilled craftsmanship

of ways, changing their function over time.

to get a unified overall texture. This “assault” on the

Miller & Maranta’s Villa Garbald is situated close

surfaces, to create their rough tactility, heightens

to the border in the village Castasegna in an

the organic, rustic nature of the building, binding it

Italian-speaking valley in canton Graubünden. Dense,

into the landscape and echoing the surfaces of

multi-level farmhouses give the village an urban

the garden walls and surrounding farm buildings.

feel. The guesthouse replaces an old hay barn and

Miller & Maranta has set up a sophisticated dialogue

stands above an elegant villa designed for the Garbald

between the new villa and its historic context.

family in 1863–1864 by the first professor of archi-

Interestingly, the architects say that when they

tecture at the ETH, Gottfried Semper. In 1955 the

design a specific room, they start with its atmos-

last descendant of the Garbald family set up a founda-

phere. Budget constraint was no obstacle but they

tion, which was later able to recruit the Collegium

nevertheless managed to create simple, perhaps

Helveticum to collaborate on the creation of a refuge

spartan, but high-quality interior spaces. Meticulous

for intellectual debate and dialogue, spearheaded

care was taken with the finishes—with the con-

by a competition held in 2001, which was won by

struction of the broken-white, smooth lime plaster

Miller & Maranta.

walls and the carpentry of the doors, windows,

What makes Miller & Maranta’s building remark-

shutters, and furniture. With its raw surfaces and

able is the manner of its construction and its

powerful, sculptural form, Miller & Maranta

amorphous, crystalline form. The project starts with

has created a new contemporary language for alpine

a garden wall encircling the site, creating a private

architecture using some of the deeply engrained

enclave within. Inspired by Roccoli, or Italian

lessons on Analogue Architecture they learnt decades

bird-catching towers, the six-story building stands

ago in Zurich.

proudly, like an abstract, monolithic sculpture in a garden. The tower declares itself as a dominant form, set against the landscape and the sky. By contorting the plan off the perpendicular, randomly placing the windows, and expressing the surfaces, the architects have enhanced the monolithic, abstract feel of the building. The polygonal plan is a continuation of the rustic garden wall and curved walkways that meander across the site linking one building to the other. The amorphous, angled plan is mirrored in the articulation of the roof that kinks up rather cheekily towards Semper’s elegant villa below.

When we have to design a specific room, we begin with its atmosphere. Miller & Maranta

16

17

18

19

20

GROUND FLOOR

1:300

21

4TH FLOOR 3RD FLOOR 2ND FLOOR 1ST FLOOR

1:300

22

WEST ELEVATION SECTION

1:300

23

BUCHNER BRÜNDLER

Switzerland is a model for the balance between humans and nature. Buchner Bründler

25

BUCHNER BRÜNDLER

The intermediary timber floor of the hayloft

CASA D’ESTATE

was removed to reveal the full six-meter height space

LINESCIO

where the open plan living and dining room are

2009 – 2010

situated. Folding timber shutters shut out the light from two high south-facing window openings.

Traditional buildings in the Italian part of Switzerland

A fireplace sits directly on the concrete floor, giving

are constructed with local granite and have slate

the space an archaic atmosphere when a fire is

or granite roofs. In Ticino, there are stone footpaths

lit on cool summer nights. The bath is not a tub; it is

in the valleys that date back millennia to the era

a recessed trough in the floor, like a miniature pool.

of the Silk Road when traders passed from the Far East

Taking a bath in this bathroom must be a novel

to the West. The summerhouse, Casa d’Estate situ-

experience. The showerhead extends high above and

ated in the secluded Vallemaggia, thirty kilometers

arcs over the beam to spray down in a mini waterfall.

north of Locarno, lay abandoned for half a century

Recessed lighting behind the sink unit illuminates

before Daniel Buchner and Andreas Bründler turned

the rough granite surface from below: a theatrical

their attention to reviving it. From the exterior,

gesture. In this way, the architects play with textures,

their intervention is all but invisible. A swivel glass

highlighting the sensuous surface quality of the

door, flush with the outer granite facade, and a

materials and heightening one’s awareness of the

concrete chimney are the only hints of the transfor-

spaces.

mation that has taken place within the 650-mm-thick, 200-year-old stone walls. The decision to restrict occupation to the warm

What is remarkable about this renovation is its restraint; the architects have allowed the 200year-old stone building to retain its stature as

summer months enabled the architects to leave

an enduring piece of architecture that has survived

the stone walls untouched and do without heating:

over the centuries and will surely continue to

a bold decision that freed the architects, allow-

stand for centuries to come.

ing them to forgo triple-glazed windows and radiators. Every new element in the renovation is constructed from concrete: the new window reveals, floors, and built-in elements. Accessing the interior through the roof, concrete was poured layer by layer into the void between the rough stone walls and the lightly textured timber formwork, creating a house within a house like a Russian babushka doll.

26

27

28

29

30

SECTION SITE PLAN

GROUND FLOOR

1:500

1:200

31

The foyer is generous and light; all service spaces

BUCHNER BRÜNDLER RENOVATION AND EXTENSION OF

like the office, lift, stairwell, and seminar room are

BASEL YOUTH HOSTEL

situated against the slope, to the rear of the building.

ST ALBAN, BASEL

Jean Prouvé chairs and tawny leather sofas invite

2009 – 2010

visitors to sit and chat. Wide steps descend into the communal dining space, the historical silk dying

Youth hostels are no longer frequented solely by

rooms, where dividing walls were removed to reveal

students and backpackers traveling on a shoestring

a series of brick arches that produce a rhythm of

budget. Nowadays, travelers of every age make

elegant curves enclosing the space. The patterned

up a large proportion of their clientele. Although each

texture of the painted white brickwork creates a

youth hostel is unique, they all have in common

subtle contrast with the off-white plastered columns.

an ambition to be sustainable and ecological, as well

A stark, folded steel staircase in an aubergine-

as to provide a high standard of accommodation.

colored stairwell lends both an industrial and artistic

Swiss youth hostels frequently win awards for the

impression to the vertical circulation. Altogether

best youth hostels internationally as they are

forty-eight rooms of varying sizes are arranged

well conceived, perfectly clean, and have high quality

in three upper levels strung along passageways termi-

architecture.

nating in floor-to-ceiling high windows that bring

Basel’s youth hostel was originally a silk ribbon

in light and views. Transparent colored peep-

factory built in 1850–1851. It was first renovated into

hole openings in the masonry walls allow for fleeting

a youth hostel in the late 1970s. As the former factory

glimpses of activity within the rooms; a delightful

is heritage protected, any alteration had to be

gesture that enlivens the passageways. The rooms

sensitively undertaken. In 2007, Basel-based archi-

themselves have been constructed in a combination

tects, Buchner Bründler won the commission to

of concrete and glazed plywood, while the furni-

design a new renovation and extension, which was

ture is solid oak. There is a robust, direct use of

completed three years later.

materials. Ribbon-like balconies extend the rooms

Situated alongside a stream in St Alban, a pic-

and create an exterior connection between neigh-

turesque quarter close to the Rhine River, the

boring units allowing guests to socialize with

youth hostel is nestled among tall trees. Before one

one another. Buchner Bründler has shown that it is

even enters the building, Buchner Bründler’s inter-

possible to enhance an old building with a con-

vention can be seen; a delicate timber footbridge

temporary extension and create architecture that is

links Maja Sacher-Platz to the entrance and merges

functional and aesthetic in equal measure.

into a light timber walkway that leads one to an enclosed terrace overlooking the foliage. This walkway forms a base held by vertical oak fins that echo the tree trunks, enclosing and visually binding old and new together, as well as filtering views in and out of the building.

We believe in the possibility of architecture to transform places. Buchner Bründler

32

33

34

35

36

GROUND FLOOR

1:400

37

SECTION NORTH ELEVATION

1:400

38

1ST FLOOR

39

BUCHNER BRÜNDLER APARTMENT BUILDING, BLÄSIRING BASEL 2011–2012

Facing the street, sentinel-like, this six-story apartment building in Basel refers to the height of other, taller buildings in the neighborhood, rather than to the adjacent double-story houses. The narrow site and the vertical proportions make the building vaguely reminiscent of a traditional Amsterdam grachten rowhouse; although it is rather more austere, it retains its own contemporary charm. By stacking the two, three-level apartments vertically, the architects were able to optimize the narrow site and retain a rear garden. As the building is held between its neighboring houses, so the rooms are also contained between two concrete walls longitudinally like bookends. In contrast, the short facades are opened up to the street front and the rear garden with floor-to-ceiling glazing allowing natural light to penetrate into the deep plan. The floor plan is organized around a service core that houses the stairwell, kitchens, and bathrooms, all seemingly carved out of raw concrete. The fireplace, also concrete, juts out confidently into the living area. The hearth is flush with the floor and the wood is ignited directly on the base giving a gritty, archaic feel to the space. The embossed grain of the timber shuttering has been left visible, leaving the material raw and untreated, reflecting the process of its making. The lack of pre-manufactured fittings like basins, baths, and shelves—which are all cast in solid concrete—enhances the plastic, modeled effect and highlights the elemental power of the material. The use of honey-colored oak window frames and cupboard door panels tempers and enriches the stark, gray concrete wall and ceiling surfaces. From the street, the facade displays a carefully balanced interplay of timber, glass, steel, and concrete surfaces. It is not surprising that this project won the Architekturpreis Beton 2013, as it is an eloquent essay in the sculptural use of concrete, carved and carefully formed to model space. Buchner Bründler has mastered a sensuous use of concrete, a material which has played a central role in architecture in Switzerland for over a century.

40

41

42

43

44

SECTION GROUND FLOOR

1:200

45

3RD FLOOR

4 TH FLOOR

BEAUTIFUL BUSINESS

Swiss Achievement in Architecture

R. James Breiding

46

Why does Switzerland, a tiny, landlocked country, with most of its terrain uninhabitable, have the highest per capita number of Pritzker Prize winners in the world? How did a country spawn, in a short space of time such standout architects as Le Corbusier, Mario Botta, Jacques Herzog, Pierre de Meuron, and Peter Zumthor with their landmarks defining cities throughout the world? This essay examines those aspects that have led to Swiss distinction in architecture and provides a brief survey of those people who have contributed most to Swiss achievement in this sector. The concept of a nation encompasses a myriad of endless considerations: history, climate, topography, language, religion, its balance between the individual and the community, the extent or lack of resources and wealth, its values and social norms; just to name a few. From this interminable list, three attributes of “Swissness” come to my mind when I reflect on what may explain the country’s remarkable contribution to architecture as we know it today. First, Switzerland has long been a nation that has thrived on openness. A trading post during the Roman Empire offering conquest to the north and protection to the south; it fuels the source of the Rhine flowing to the south and the Rhône flowing to the north; the two rivers that served as the commercial vertebrae of trade throughout central Europe until the invention of railroads. Switzerland also served as a corridor for those traversing east and west as part of their pilgrimage to, or from, Santiago de Compostela. Up until the nineteenth century the leading export of Switzerland was its male youth, who were the most prized mercenaries fighting in the ceaseless wars that marred Europe for most of its civilizations (to this day Swiss guards defend the Vatican). All of this created a fountain of opportunity for the exchange of ideas, talent, and technique. The Swiss traveled, met, learnt languages, married local women or men, so they were probably more acutely aware of latest developments than more provincial societies. The second feature of Switzerland is its unique political framework. The basic task for any political system is to mediate smoothly between competing interest groups and power blocs in order to permit a broader public interest to prevail. History shows us repeatedly that there is a natural tendency for power to centralize. Most of history has been about the formation, rise, and ultimate destruction of empires. Think of Egypt, Greece, Rome, the Spanish Armada, Napoleon, Bismarck, or the British Empire. Switzerland is unique in that it is built from the bottom up and is one of the rare exceptions that has managed to preserve local and regional hegemony over central command and control tendencies of governance. The Swiss have a sharp disdain for centralized power of any kind. Professor Harold James, of Princeton, once told me that Swiss cities like Basel, Geneva, Lucerne, Neuchâtel, St Gallen, and Zurich still resemble medieval city-states, with local dialects, customs, considerable autonomy, and a meritocratic attitude towards achievement of recognition. This is relevant to architecture because it has long provided an abundant and diverse source of commissions for aspiring Swiss architects. There are 26 cantons and 2,249 communes, each with budgets to render commissions and ambitious architects wishing to outdo one another. Collectively it is a laboratory for architectural experiment and individually a dream for any budding architect. A particular combination of precision and frugality is the second characteristic of Swiss architecture. Calvin and Zwingli, two of the most influential protagonists of the Protestant reformation, came from Switzerland. For more than 1,000 years, the Catholic Church dominated the minds and hearts of people. Most commissions issued by the Church or monarchies were assigned on the basis of an architect’s talent for veneration and artistic aesthetics. Those mandating were looking for the superlative: the most grandiose, the most ostentatious, the most imaginative. Calvinism precluded its members from partaking in such contests, or even professions. To distinguish oneself, one’s work was only considered superior if it was more efficient, more resistant, of superior engineering, or other forms of measurable improvement. From these beginnings emerged a particular attention to materials, detail, and functionality that continues to manifest itself today. There is a famous expression in German “mehr sein als scheinen” (more substance than appearance)—which seems to be an intricate part of the Swiss DNA—whether it is a watchmaker in Le Locle, a turbine manufacturer at ABB, or an architect at Herzog & de Meuron.

47

Reliability and trustworthiness are the final factors that come to mind. Living in the mountains is characterized by considerable uncertainty. Avalanches or floods can wipe out valleys; adverse weather can isolate people for weeks at a time and poor conditions can impact harvests needed to see villages through the winter. Because of this, the Swiss tend to be cautious people and prone to building not for day-to-day life, but for those rare, but inevitable calamities. Reliability is measured during times of hardship, not under fair weather conditions. And from reliability, comes trust. Architectural budgets can amount to large sums of money and are often funded by taxpayers. Meeting budgets and finishing on time may not always be a decisive criterion, but it can provide an edge. Having looked at those characteristics exemplary of Swiss architecture, let us now sketch through its historical development. BALANCE, UNITY—AND BUSINESS Both architecture and art dealing have become important parts of Switzerland’s economy in a characteristically Swiss way—discreetly—drawing on the Swiss tendencies to build from the bottom up, strive for balance and utility, and hold firm to an independent approach. Yet the ambiguous relationship of many Swiss cultural figures to their homeland is revealing. The sense that Switzerland is a somewhat stifling environment has deep historical roots. In pre-industrial Switzerland, art and creative architecture did not easily find their place. In contrast to its European neighbors, Switzerland had no princely courts with royal families to act as patrons of the arts to enhance their power and prestige. Such frivolities were alien to the Swiss mentality. Money—when available—was to be spent on sensible things. Not surprisingly, the first signs of artistic flair in Switzerland manifested themselves in architecture, where aesthetic values could be worked discreetly into a practical or religious design. ITALY WAS THE CRUCIBLE Between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, the most important Swiss architects came from south of the Alps in the Italian-speaking canton of Ticino, and their main destination was Rome. One of them, Domenico Fontana, was the successor to Michelangelo as the chief architect of the Basilica of St Peter. Fontana’s nephew, Carlo Maderno, completed the Basilica. In the final years before the consecration of St Peter’s in 1629, another Swiss architect, Francesco Castelli, was working on the site. Adopting the surname Borromini, he made his reputation with the Church of San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane, on the Quirinal Hill, setting the Roman baroque style. A generation later, another emigrant, Domenico Trezzini, left Astano near Lugano, to make his career abroad. After the obligatory training in Rome, Trezzini found his way to Russia, where the tsar, Peter the Great, appointed him as city planner for his new capital, St Petersburg. For thirty years, until his death, Trezzini worked on the layout of the city and constructed some of its most important buildings, including the Cathedral of St Peter and St Paul and the Summer and Winter Palaces for the tsars. He also introduced a master’s diploma in architectural studies there. In Switzerland it would be another 150 years before an equivalent institution for training architects was created. ARCHITECTURE IN DEMAND Around 1800, the architectural profession underwent a profound change. The rise of a prosperous middle class led to a huge increase in the number and variety of building commissions. At the same time, mercantile values and industrial production methods brought ideas of efficiency to the construction site—clients now wanted to see a return on their investment within a reasonable period. The planning and execution of prestigious buildings required academically trained architects who could master complex logistics and were thoroughly familiar with whichever architectural style was demanded.

48

In the first half of the nineteenth century, Switzerland made scarcely any contribution to these trends—architects acquired their training in France and Germany and brought the current styles back to Switzerland. But the founding in 1855 of the Eidgenössisches Polytechnikum, later the ETH, was a turning point. The recently established Federal Government succeeded in bringing to the school a noted German architect, Gottfried Semper. Along with his close friend, composer Richard Wagner, Semper had been involved in the May uprising against the Kingdom of Saxony in Dresden in 1849. The revolt collapsed, and Semper and Wagner had to leave the city to avoid arrest. Semper fled to Paris and later to London, while Wagner went to Zurich. A few years later, Wagner used his connections to bring Semper to the newly founded Polytechnikum. Semper was not only commissioned to design the school buildings on a terrace overlooking the city center, but also appointed the highest-paid professor at the new university. Semper believed that learning on the job should play an important part in the life of an architect, and this approach has been followed at the ETH ever since. A TIME OF LIBERATION Thanks to the ETH and its appointment of Semper, Switzerland slowly began to become a force in European architecture. This was a period of rapid growth in Swiss cities and architects received many new commissions: for railway stations, theaters, hotels, banks, and central post offices. The models for these buildings were found in the capitals of Europe, chiefly Paris, Munich and Vienna, yet Swiss architects gradually began to offer interpretations of their own, overlaying a characteristically Swiss approach, bringing a sense of what was feasible and affordable. Gradually, a modern architecture liberated from traditional styles began to emerge. With the appointment to the ETH in 1915 of a Swiss architect, Karl Moser, architectural training evolved further. Moser had spent time in Paris and Italy, and had set up a successful architectural partnership in Karlsruhe, Germany, gaining an international reputation. He produced designs for the Badische railway terminus in Basel (1913), Zurich University (1918), and the Kunsthaus art gallery in Zurich (1910). Moser exemplified the so-called “Reform” style that developed around 1900, based on the idea that function, form, and design should be conveyed in an indissoluble unity and that form was to be governed by utility. Clearly, the Reform style had links with the modern movement in art. Swiss modernism was marked by the practical philosophy of toleration that underpinned daily coexistence in a small, but diverse country. At the same time there was an openness to trends from other countries; under Moser, the ETH abandoned Semper’s “academic architecture” in favor of designing real buildings and encouraging quality and craftsmanship. THE IMPACT OF LE CORBUSIER In architecture, the impact of modernism became fully visible in Switzerland in the first decades of the twentieth century. Karl Moser’s cosmopolitan realism influenced generations of architects, who still invoked his name decades later. Perhaps the most famous protagonist of this modernism was Charles-Edouard Jeanneret-Gris, who later called himself Le Corbusier. He was born in the Swiss town of La Chaux-de-Fonds and attended the School of Applied Arts there. He was trained as an engraver and chaser, but soon switched to architecture. During the First World War he moved permanently to Paris, where he established an architectural practice with his cousin, Pierre Jeanneret. In 1918, Le Corbusier met a Basel banker, Raoul La Roche, who was in the process of building up an important collection of Cubist paintings. A friendship developed between the two men, which culminated in the building of the Villa La Roche in 1923. The house, in Paris’s 16th arrondissement, became an icon of modernism and is still a place of pilgrimage for architects.

49

A RAGE TO CREATE THE NEW CITY Le Corbusier’s ambitions went beyond building private homes for wealthy friends, though: in Le Corbusier: A Life, Nicholas Fox Weber writes about Le Corbusier’s desire to “raze large parts of existing cities” to build apartments that would provide better living conditions. Le Corbusier’s vision of the modern city consisted of large, unornamented apartment buildings set upon pilotis (he was one of the first architects to take into account the effects of the automobile on urban agglomeration). Though considered a pioneer of modern architecture, he was not without his critics, including Jane Jacobs, who in The Death and Life of Great American Cities argued that his buildings had a negative effect on social development. Le Corbusier’s rhetorical talent, his aggressive and confrontational personality, and his radical architecture stripped of all adornment quickly placed him at the head of the avant-garde movement. With manifestos such as Toward an Architecture (1923), City Planning (1925), and Five Points for a New Architecture (1927), he provided the fundamental arguments for the “new construction.” SWITZERLAND AND THE BAUHAUS A crucial influence on the development of Swiss modernism came from the Bauhaus, an arts and crafts school founded in Weimar in 1919. Throughout the 1920s, ambitious artists and designers congregated there from all over Europe. On the staff from the beginning was Johannes Itten, a Swiss painter and color theorist, whose teaching skill and charisma dominated the school for its first four years. Itten, who had studied at a teacher-training college in Bern, devised the foundation course at the Bauhaus, which was later adopted by many schools of applied arts in German-speaking countries and to this day has a place in the curriculum. In 1928, a Basel architect and founding member of the CIAM, Hannes Meyer, succeeded Walter Gropius as director of the Bauhaus. Meyer set up a department of architecture and positioned the Bauhaus, already permeated with political ideology, even further to the left. In the conservative atmosphere of Dessau, this led to considerable tension. Under intense pressure, magnified by the rise of the Nazis, Meyer was forced to give up his post in 1930. He moved on to Moscow, but soon fell out with the Stalinist regime and returned to Switzerland in 1936. Meyer had little opportunity to design and build, but he made an essential contribution to the development of architecture. ARCHITECTURE AND WAR DON’T MIX Unlike the art market, Swiss architecture was impoverished by the Second World War. The exchange of ideas with foreign countries came to a standstill, and tendencies towards compromise and regional traditionalism became stronger. Only Le Corbusier in Paris remained committed to the ideals of the avant-garde, and immediately after the war ended he achieved an international breakthrough when the original design for the headquarters of the newly created United Nations organization in New York came from his drawing board. Le Corbusier’s language of form eventually moved away from white, hard-edged cubes towards a more emotive, sculptural interpretation of concrete. With the chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Haut in Ronchamp, eastern France, he achieved what many regard as his chef d’oeuvre, a place of religious and architectural pilgrimage. THE POST-CORBUSIER GENERATION By the early 1970s, the canton of Ticino returned to the forefront of international architectural practice, thanks largely to Mario Botta and a group of Ticinese architects later known as Tendenza. Botta had studied in Venice and then worked briefly for Le Corbusier in 1965. Five years later he set up his own practice in Mendrisio, Ticino, where the private houses he built in the early 1970s attracted international attention. The Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco, completed in 1995, and the cathedral in the French town of Evry, consecrated in the same year, mark the high points of his career in the view of many critics.

50

Botta is not the only Swiss architect to make an international impact while remaining anchored in Switzerland. Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron, both born in 1950, set up their architectural practice in Basel in 1978 after graduating from the ETH. From the beginning, Herzog & de Meuron has sought to bring their work close to art, often working with an artist from the Jura, Rémy Zaugg. From this dynamic of artistic collaboration they draw a stream of new ideas, both for conceptual work and for actual buildings. INTELLECT AND EMOTION Herzog and de Meuron are known as intellectuals, yet their buildings always arouse strong emotions. In Basel’s main railway station, it is the central signal box, entirely clad in copper strips, that made the architects known to a wider public. They broke through to international recognition in 2000, when they converted the vast Bankside Power Station on the south bank of the Thames in London into an art gallery for Tate Modern. Since then, major projects have followed in rapid succession, the most famous to date being the National Stadium built for the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. In 2001, they were awarded the Hyatt Foundation’s Pritzker Prize, considered the “Nobel Prize for Architecture,” and in 2007 they received the Praemium Imperiale of the Japan Art Association. A different path to international success was taken by Peter Zumthor from Oberwil near Basel, who trained as a cabinet-maker. He later studied at the Pratt Institute in New York before returning to Switzerland, where he settled in Haldenstein and set up in practice as an architect; from there his reputation quickly spread by word of mouth. Zumthor takes a lot of time over his projects, letting them mature in his head and on paper, and turns down numerous lucrative commissions. This “slow architecture” as he calls it, is epitomized in his thermal baths in the Graubünden mountain village of Vals (see page 128). Built in 1996, the number of visitors has been so great that the management eventually had to introduce a quota system. Zumthor’s largest building to date is the Kolumba Museum of Art, completed for the archdiocese of Cologne in 2007. In the two years that followed, despite the modest volume of his work, he too was awarded first the Praemium Imperiale and then the Pritzker Prize. Herzog & de Meuron and Zumthor rank among the world’s most famous architects. However, their success is based on two completely different models of thinking and working. NO LONGER A LUXURY This essay demonstrates that the influence of Swiss architecture is greater than the volume of activity. Swiss architects build all over the world, and in the art trade Switzerland is established as an important hub, along with New York, London, and Paris. The markets for art and architecture have boomed in the past fifty years. Until the 1950s, cultural products were luxury items for elites. Now they are sought by a far wider public. CRITICAL CREATIVE DENSITY A rough idea of the economic importance of the cultural sector in the wider sense (that is, the sum total of advertising, film, literature, music, the press, graphics, architecture, and art) is provided by Philipp Klaus, a geographer, in his study City, Culture and Innovation. He estimates that in Zurich alone in 2001, 8.4% of the city’s working population was engaged in these activities. By both national and international standards this is a high number, and one that suggests that Zurich—along with a few other centers such as Basel and Geneva—has achieved a critical density of creative networks that in the world of cultural production and trade adds up to global significance. The businesses of design and art trading have a crucial characteristic in common, which is that they have a self-sustaining dynamic: quality attracts quality, and ideas generate ideas. This virtuous circle is working well in Switzerland, and it is difficult to think of a reason that it will not continue to do so. References Allenspach, Christoph. Architektur in der Schweiz —Bauen im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert. Pro Helvetia Schweizer Kulturstiftung, Zurich, 1998. Frampton, Kenneth. Modern Architecture: A Critical Building History. Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1983. Zumthor, Peter. Thinking Architecture. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag, 1998. Adapted from: Breiding, R. James. SWISS MADE—The Untold Story Behind Switzerland’s Success. London: Profile Books, 2013.

51

HERZOG & DE MEURON

The greatest inspiration is the existing world in all its ugliness and normality. Jacques Herzog

53

HERZOG & DE MEURON

Clearly, the heart of the scheme is the large egg-

NATURAL SWIMMING POOLS

shaped bathing pool, which offers an opportunity

RIEHEN

for non-swimmers and swimmers alike to cool them-

2010–2014

selves in the clear green waters. Low curved stairs descend deeper and deeper into the depths, like

Sometimes projects take decades to be realized.

ripples following the curve of the pool perimeter. Wide

The need to replace the obsolete public pools in

timber jetties slide across the water surface tying

Riehen dates back to 1979 when the local community

the pool back into the land and allowing swimmers to

initiated an architectural competition won by Basel-

dive directly into the deep area of the pool. It is an

based Herzog & de Meuron. During the intervening

elegant and sensitively conceived project, which will

decades the concept for the pools was radically

surely be a hub for local swimmers to enjoy the

altered and a conventional swimming facility with its

summer reprieve from the long winter months. Hope-

mechanical systems and chemical water treatments

fully this project will inspire planners of future

was abandoned in favor of a biological filtration

public pools to consider green, chemical-free options

system. Thus, the chlorinated pool morphed into an

to promote healthy, ecological, chlorine-free

oval body of sweet water fringed by plant-filtering

swimming.

cascades, where water is purified in the same way that it is filtered in nature, through layer upon layer of gravel, sand, and soil. The Swiss are passionate about their public bathing pools and there are myriads of idyllic pools on the banks of rivers and lakes throughout the country. For their Riehen pools, Herzog & de Meuron took their cue from the traditional timber Badis strung along the riverbanks of the Rhine. Nestled in a hollow beneath undulating rows of grapevines, the new pools are enclosed by a continuous larch wood screen surrounding three borders of the wedgeshaped site. In places the screen wall bulges gently outward to accommodate changing rooms, while smooth gray planes of concrete hold the showerheads and screen the changing cabins from view. To the northeast, the timber screen wall curves to enclose an entrance area where changing rooms, toilets, and a cafeteria are housed. The slender timber rafters that support the roof create an even, rhythmic pattern delicately tracing the perimeter edge that is framed by a high belt of green trees. In effect, the surrounding timber wall creates a sanctuary and a two hundred-meter-long solarium for sun lovers. A deep covered veranda is an intermediary space leading off the cafeteria where parents are able to keep an eye on their children in the shallow paddling pool.

54

55

56

A

B

B

A

SITE PLAN

1:1,000

57

SECTION A

DETAIL SECTION B

1:400

1:100

58

59

HERZOG & DE MEURON

Sustainability and conservation of energy were

RICOLA HERB CENTER

integral to Herzog & de Meuron’s concept from the

LAUFEN

onset of the design process. Forty-five-centimeter-

2014

thick earth walls regulate the humidity and temperature of the internal spaces, providing a constant

Herzog & de Meuron’s Ricola Herb Center echoes the

internal climate. Coupled with the use of photo-

long lines of hedges and the low-lying forms of

voltaic cells on the roof and the reuse of waste heat

the Jura Mountains in the distance. The extenuated

from the production center nearby, energy consump-

length reflects the linear procession of drying, cutting,

tion was reduced by an impressive 90%. Further-

blending, and storing the herbs used to create

more, 99% of the materials for the earth walls were

Ricola herbal pastilles. World-renowned architects,

quarried within a circumference of ten kilometers

Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron are known

from the site, while the rammed earth blocks were

for their experimental and radical use of materials.

made a mere three kilometers from the site. A skele-

Their attitude to architecture is exploratory and often

ton matrix of concrete columns supports the roof

playful, revealing their curiosity of the world. The

and mitigates against the force of wind pressure on

sheer range of their oeuvre, both geographically and

the expansive wall planes.

typologically, is indicative of this open-minded

As a counterpoint to the rectilinearity of

approach. Materials and detailing are used in different

the volume, each facade has a single, circular window

and innovative ways. Both architects have a deep

attached to the wall plane, like a great ornamental

fascination for the work of fine artists and often find

brooch on the body of the building. These large, round

inspiration for their designs by collaborating with

openings together with ribbons of skylights above

them. For a previous commission by Ricola, the archi-

illuminate the four main production spaces with

tects used an image of a 1920s Karl Blossfeldt

natural light. From the vantage point of the visitors’

photograph printed onto translucent polycarbonate

center on the upper level, one can view the lofty

panels for the facades. For this, their most recent

spaces below. The great halls are permeated with the

and their seventh commission for Ricola, the

tangy aroma of peppermint, elderflower, sage, and

architects chose to use millennia-old, rammed-earth

thyme.

construction techniques. By quarrying loam, marl,

Herzog & de Meuron’s architectural repertoire

and coarse aggregate from local mines, 670, 4.6-

includes spectacular buildings like London’s Tate

tonne massive blocks were formed and assembled to

Modern and Beijing’s Olympic Stadium; as with their

create the 111-meter-long, 30-meter-wide, and 11-

Riehen Pools, their most recent building for Ricola

meter-high monolithic walls. Layer upon layer of

is an example of their more restrained, less gran-

compacted earth create organically textured surfaces

diose architecture. This project—the largest loam

that resonate the archaic power of elemental earth.

building in Europe—is exemplary for its economy of

The joints between the huge earth blocks were

means, ecological shrewdness, and its subtle

carefully filled with earth mortar by hand, creating

reinterpretation of age-old construction methods.

softly undulating lines of loam that hold the memory

The simplicity of form and the tactility of the rammed-

of their making like a handmade pottery urn. The

earth surfaces create a rich, sensuous piece of

monumental walls radiate the fine craftsmanship and

twenty-first century architecture. It is tangible proof

the sensibility of the men and women who lovingly

that an industrial building can also be a beautiful

constructed them by hand. The rich, ochre color and

building.

clean lines of the facades create a subtle, “soft” piece of geometric architecture that sits discreetly in its rural/semi-industrial landscape and complements the building’s purpose of processing fresh alpine herbs.

60

61

62

63

64

SITE PLAN

1:1,000

65

GROUND FLOOR

1:500

66

D

C

B D

C

A

B

1ST FLOOR

67

SECTION A

1:500

68

SECTION B

SECTION C

69

SECTION D

DIENER & DIENER

Designing is about having a reaction to a place, as well as a trust in the beauty and depth of reality. Roger Diener

71

DIENER & DIENER

Many Swiss architects seem to have a deep

FORUM 3

admiration for artists and choose to collaborate with

BASEL

them in order to bring their unique artistic flair to

2005

the creation of architecture. Herzog & de Meuron has a particular penchant for joining forces with fine

As has been the case since time immemorial, archi-

artists and worked closely with Ai Weiwei on the

tecture is used to signify wealth, success, and

Olympic Stadium in Beijing. Here, Roger Diener invited

power. With their ambitious concept to create a state-

Swiss artist, Helmut Federle and Austrian architect

of-the-art research and development site, one of

Gerold Wiederin to design the highly complex glass

the leading enterprises of the healthcare industry has

facade. Their design is an ephemeral veil of glass that

slowly but surely been developing its “Campus of

dematerializes the architectural form. The elegant

Knowledge and Innovation” in Basel, building by buil-

cantilever facing the piazza that stretches the

ding over the past decades. World-class architects

full eighty-five meters across the building, further

such as David Chipperfield, Tadao Ando¯, Sanaa, Alvaro

enhances the illusion of the building hovering weight-

Siza, and Rem Koolhaas have all had their turn at

less above the site.

piecing together Vittorio Lampugnani’s master plan

The interiors of Forum 3 are no less impressive

like a giant three-dimensional puzzle. Inspired

than its artistic outer guise: the floor of the four-

by the urban layout of ancient Greek cities, a dense

meter high entrance lobby is finished in black marble

matrix of five-story building blocks define pedestrian

from Greece and is adorned with large-format

streets that open onto tree-filled piazzas. One of

abstract paintings and elegant timber furniture.

the first architectural practices to be commissioned

From within, color-filtered daubs of light spill across

to design a building on the extensive site was the

the interior surfaces, enlivening the office spaces.

Basel-based office Diener & Diener. Their Forum 3

Initially, hidden within this glazed lightbox was

building is a shimmering apparition of glass and color

a tangled jungle of massive trees that soared twelve

that mutates with the changing light and weather

meters—an idea conceived by the renowned land-

conditions, from opaque when overcast, to iridescent

scape architects, Vogt. They referred to their Raum

when sunny. No wonder it has been likened to a

für Pflanzen—or, space for plants—as a “compressed

Klee watercolor with overlapping planes of subtle,

landscape experience,” which was designed to

translucent hues. The facades are a montage of 1,200

infiltrate the building with the sheer scale, complexity,

glass panels mounted on vertical steel rods in

and rawness of nature.

twenty-one shades of color that cover a vast area of 4,300 m². It is like a gigantic art installation.

Roger Diener has created a masterful building that touches the senses and sustains a long-lasting fascination. It might only be an office building, but the marriage of architecture and fine art has elevated the design to an almost sublime level.

72

Here we could develop the design all the way into the construction phase. If there is an identity of Swiss architecture, then it can be found there. Roger Diener

73

74

75

76

SITE PLAN

1:4,000

77

1ST FLOOR GROUND FLOOR

1:400

78

SECTION

79

NICKISCH WALDER

For us, designing is to transform a vision into a singular entity which responds to all elements of architecture. A pure, specific architecture to specific circumstances. Nickisch Walder

81

NICKISCH WALDER

The delicate structures were dwarfed by the mas-

BASE CAMP MATTERHORN

sive rock face soaring above, creating an apt counter-

2014

point between the transient nature of the base camp, which was only there for a single season, and

Until the late nineteenth century the Alps were seen

the massive mountain, which remains for millennia.

as an obstacle to transport and were feared by

Although this was only a temporary solution to

anyone trying to cross them. Consequently, July 15,

accommodate alpine climbers, great care and atten-

2015 was an auspicious date being the 150th anniver-

tion was given to creating a design that did jus-

sary of the first ascent of the Matterhorn by the

tice to the dramatic majesty of the location. The archi-

British climber, Edward Whymper. This is now regarded

tects were respectful of the sensitivity of the site

as the birth of alpine tourism, which remains vital

and made sure that no trace was left of the camp once

to Switzerland’s economy. To mark the anniversary of

it had been dismantled.

Whymper’s climb, the Hörnli hut, a way-station enroute to the Matterhorn peak, was renovated. In order to cater for mountaineers during the interim period of renovation, a temporary “pop up hotel” sponsored by Swatch was erected on the slopes of the Matterhorn. It is impossible to ascend the peak from the valley in one session; mountaineers stay overnight half-way up to acclimatize and to start their hike up to the summit at daybreak. Twenty-five, tent-like structures, scattered along the alpine terrace were erected beneath the iconic peak of the Matterhorn above Zermatt ski resort. For the triangular huts, architect Selina Walder took her inspiration from the pyramidal shape of the Matterhorn that towers above the site. To reflect the transitory nature of the project, the pitched structures perch lightly on the mountain slope, like folded origami. Built from aluminum and wood, they are slightly elevated on slender, adjustable legs that allow the timber floor of the two-person huts to be horizontal and raised off the cold rocky surface, enabling climbers to sleep more comfortably. The construction is crisp and exact. Triangular doors flip open like the flap of a tent with the door handle and key slot placed diagonally. Larger huts accommodated dining and kitchen spaces where hikers were served dinner and breakfast. As water is a scarce resource on the site, no showering facilities were offered, though there was a toilet.

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

A

A

B

B

SECTION A SECTION

SECTION B

PLAN SLEEP TENT

PLAN WASH/STORAGE TENT

1:100

89

NICKISCH WALDER REFUGI LIEPTGAS FLIMS 2013

The dramatic backdrop to this holiday retreat in Graubünden is the Flimserstein cliff face that was left exposed after the largest alpine geological collapse, 10,000 years ago. The Flims valley is still littered with boulders the size of houses, debris from the mountain that fractured so long ago. Selina Walder and Georg Nickisch’s little forest hut is fascinating particularly due to the manner of its conception. What captures the imagination is how the architects have used timber from the original hut as formwork for the new building. The inner side of the old timber wall becomes the outer side of the new concrete wall, giving the concrete its scalloped edge and leaving an embossed imprint on the surface, like an inscribed memory. The chalet is situated in a cool, shaded glen in an otherwise sun-soaked plateau. It is a microclimate too damp for a timber building, but perfect for storing cheese. From a large rock in front of the entry door, there is a step up to the threshold and down again into the quiet interior of the hut. There are only two rooms, one on ground level and the other, cavelike, cut into the mountain where the old cheese store used to be. A circular oculus cut into the roof affords views of the crown of the trees above and allows light into the open plan kitchen/dining/living space on ground level. Sliced through the facade, a generous deep window is set low in the wall, visually bringing the surrounding landscape into the snug interior. The deep concrete windowsill forms a bench that extends beyond the window along the wall towards the fireplace, the focal point of the space. A narrow stairway curves down, away from the light and into the subterranean, cave-like bedroom. Inside the bedroom is a deep bath cast in concrete. Bathed in soft indirect light, the bath is wedged against massive slanted rocks giving the impression of bathing inside a secluded mountain grotto. There is a strong juxtaposition of materials: rock, concrete, glass, and water. With their starkly modern transformation, the architects have managed to avoid creating nostalgic chalet architecture. The building has the directness and the pragmatic nature of a traditional alpine chalet, but is unapologetically contemporary at the same time. One has to admire the lack of excess or pretension in this small, but powerful building.

In the moment of casting, old and new are inseparable entities. Selina Walder

90

91

92

93

94

SECTION GROUND FLOOR −1 FLOOR

1:200

95

SWISS ARCHITECTURE FROM ELSEWHERE Niall McLaughlin

96

From time to time a ripple from a smaller outpost interrupts our smooth, globalized market in architectural images. We become aware of an emerging architectural identity, which owes its nature to the specific characteristics of that region or culture. It rarely lasts long, as the identity derived from physical, economic, or social terroir quickly becomes codified into motifs and identifiable forms that are absorbed again into the mainstream. For example, the exquisite geometric nuances and inflections incubated around the Douro become ubiquitous in the suburbs of Dublin, Hackney, and Melbourne. Swiss architecture has managed to maintain a longer and broader identity than most of these regional manifestations. I am writing about it as an almost pure outsider. In other words, I know very little about the ground conditions that have generated what we might call a distinction in the work. I am looking at it as someone who regularly reads publications and occasionally visits buildings, but I don’t know about individuals, factions, dynasties, or schools within the local tradition. When I asked my colleagues in a London practice about Swiss architecture, it produced a remarkable consensus. It was seen to embody stolid, sober—almost timeless—virtues. The general sense is that the work comes from a continuity of tradition and a position of relative privilege. It is characterized by small to medium scale buildings carefully detailed from well-crafted, traditional materials, usually in cartoonishly beautiful landscapes. At its best it is refined, honest, and earthy. However, it is also seen as rigid, conservative, and sometimes sanctimonious. Someone suggested it was “joyful” but they were quickly corrected: “Yes, but it is a convent-school joy.” The prevailing opinion is that it is at the sensible end of architectural production and that it has a prevailing stoical, sachlich character. Looking at Swiss buildings in drawings and photographs and hearing Swiss architects speak about their work, there is an emphasis upon a self-evident quality. “Here it is,” they say, “I hardly need to tell you why it is so, because it must already be clear to you.” This insistence on the common-sense obviousness of the work is something that I would like to probe. Is it really so straightforward? Does it articulate its obviousness just a little too much, even to the verge of quiet hysteria? Claiming that the work is conceptually transparent, truthful, and original appears to fulfill an important need. It seems necessary to the deep social contract between the architect and the community in a society that is anxious about its relation with modernity. This appears to make it necessary to establish a connection with a primitive regional tradition of construction, but to sidestep any overt references to the modernist canon. Perhaps up to a third of the projects in this book are based upon a strategy where a primitive or notionally original building form is subjected to an unsettling transformation. An old stone hut is lined entirely on the inside with in-situ concrete; a mansion is washed in stark white, a timber log cabin is reconceived as a skeuomorph in concrete pseudo-logs; a hut is offered up on a concrete podium with a cavernous car park beneath, a mountain lodge has taut, gaping windows utterly devoid of visible framing. The skill and care involved in detailing and constructing these projects distracts us from the underlying estrangement of the conceptual strategy. The idea of the primitive, of origins, is both staged and profoundly denied at the same time. These buildings seem to embody a paradox: the requirement to dwell simply in the world and the impossibility of that way of being.

97

In other projects, the primitive type is not overtly courted, but the problematic idea of origins is played out through material estrangement. Herzog & de Meuron’s Cultural Museum in Basel refuses to settle into a stable object, it embodies an endless conceptual flipping between two possible versions of itself. The now-famous Central Signal Box in Basel both insists upon its absolute material identity and at the same time presents itself as a mirage or fugitive illusion. The most profound of these projects is, perhaps, the earliest Ricola building at Laufen (not the Ricola building published here) in which the hidden internal space is enclosed in a blind facade that speaks of nothing but the staging of its own material identity. It is silent and opaque. There is no naturalism in these projects. Any apparent reference to material or tectonic stability is immediately undermined by a contrary estrangement. For me, this collection of projects brings to mind a number of associations. The first is Semper’s famous footnote in Style, which refers to Hamlet’s question “What was Hecuba to him?” It suggests to me the impossibility of conceptual transparency and the victory of representation over notions of literal truth—“to mask the material of the mask.” The next is Aldo Rossi’s drawing and writing and the melancholy that comes from the impasse at the center of his work. The last is the tradition of Robert Smithson and, in particular, the framing and deracination of materials, their simultaneous exposure and estrangement, like butterflies pinned in a glass. All of these associations have a tragic quality, based upon the need for, and impossibility of, a form of living rooted in origins. It is this that I think gives Swiss architecture its seriousness and perhaps its endurance. I recently attended a lecture by Peter Zumthor in London. I had just spent the day at Worcester College in Oxford reading Nicholas Hawksmoor’s description of his library building there. It was apparent that Hawksmoor rested his authority for the work on painstakingly enumerating the precedents he was employing in this building. In contrast, Zumthor mentioned no other architect in his description of his work, to the extent that he would not answer questions about precedents after the talk. His presentation of his own authority seemed to derive from his silence, perhaps insisting upon the origin of his ideas in his own experience. This emphasis upon primitive original experience appears at the heart of the identity of Swiss architecture today. It allows the work to offer itself up as a resistance to the global market in architectural images, to the endless leveling brought about by visual exchange without lived experience. But the recourse to origins is also a difficult strategy with its own problems. The ground of origin, in materials, in experience, in typology, is less stable than we think. This uncertainty haunts Swiss practice. It is intensely inventive, but it leaves the work, for better or worse, in a state of isolation.

98

GION A. CAMINADA

One of the great challenges for me lies in building houses that have a lasting—ideally almost an “absolute”—validity. Gion A. Caminada

99

Sturdy timber columns create a rhythmic pro-

GION A. CAMINADA FOREST HUT

gression of space and articulate the interior. The

DOMAT/ EMS

fragrance of roughly sawn stone pine adds a special

2014

scented quality to the experience of being present in the space, linking the building to its context on

Nestled in a clearing in a forest in the far east of

a subliminal level. The sense of being in the forest

Switzerland is the Tegia da vaut or forest cabin.

is encapsulated in the interior. There is no doubt that

The building was a gift to the commune Domat /Ems

this Waldhütte has become an integral part of

and accommodates a forest classroom for school

the secluded forest landscape where it now belongs.

children or for adults studying forestry, while private individuals can also rent the space for functions. Gion A. Caminada, the renowned Swiss architect who designed the cabin, believes in the importance of building projects in close proximity to his community with materials and skills drawn from the locality. Caminada champions traditional techniques and local craftsmanship and the great care and effort that are taken to realize his buildings is reflected in the high quality of his architecture. Taking local vernacular architecture as his point of departure, Caminada grounds his buildings in their particular topography and in the fine-grained specificity of the local context. Although most of Caminada’s projects are small-scale and are located in rural villages in the Alps, like Vrin, Valendas, or Ems, his work is nonetheless well-known throughout Switzerland and internationally. This might not be a large building, but it nevertheless exudes a strong presence among the towering dark green pines. It is a delicately layered building, laid gently in its wooded site. The beautiful gesture of the concave, wing-like roof and the facades that curve outwards to meet the eaves, in combination with the layered texture of the shingle facades, create the primary elements of the cabin. The timber cladding stops just short of the ground creating a delicate shadow gap and an impression of levitation, as if the building were suspended. Caminada’s choice of materials is clear: a timber structure surrounded by trees. Concrete steps projecting beyond the footprint of the cabin anchor the building and denote the entry, while on the far side a raised outdoor timber terrace creates a threshold to the forest that “balances nature and culture.”

Ambivalent spaces for the ordinary and the everyday, which at the same time refer to something absent, are the high art of architecture. Gion A. Caminada

100

101

102

B

A

A

SECTION B GROUND FLOOR

1:200

103

B

SECTION A

Reuss Delta viewing tower typifies Caminada’s

GION A. CAMINADA VIEWING TOWER

sensibility to material and structure. Like Peter

REUSS DELTA, LAKE LUCERNE

Zumthor, Caminada hails from Graubünden and, like Zumthor, is a trained carpenter and cabinet-maker.

2012

The manner in which his buildings are crafted reflects Reuss Delta, in the heart of Switzerland, is nestled

his intimate knowledge of materials and their

between high, snow-capped Alps and the flat

assembly. With its reduced material palette of locally

green valley that opens out towards Lake Lucerne,

sourced timber and woven willow, like his forest

where river, shore, and lake slowly merge in mini

hut, the tower celebrates local skills and craftsman-

fjords and idyllic bathing islands. A few decades ago,

ship. Forty-eight silver-fir tree trunks—each

the future of the delta looked precarious as the

chosen and felled by local foresters and debarked by

shoreline was gradually disappearing into the lake.

hand—form a conical tower crowned by a light,

It was the 1985 Reuss Delta Law that secured the

scallop-edged roof. A spiral staircase swirls its way

site, which has subsequently become a haven for

around the central trunk branching out from a

shallow water wildlife and plants, as well as a leisure

platform into four projecting viewing balconies facing

attraction. The small archipelago was created with

the four compass points. The higher one ascends,

3.3 million tons of rock excavated from the Gotthard

the denser the weaving becomes, until one is almost

Base Tunnel. The massive flat rocks brought from

enclosed in fine interwoven twigs. Structurally,

the tunnel excavation are ideal for sunbathing and

both platform and stairs are hung from above by steel

relaxing. The only human-made structure on the

rods suspended from the roof. The ceiling is com-

delta is the eleven-meter-high viewing tower that

posed of pleated panels of woven reeds fanning out

creates a vantage point from which to observe

from the central timber support, overlaid with

the varied bird life and enjoy the surrounding natural

a whimsical tangle of twigs that soften the pattern

beauty of the mountains cascading into the lake

creating an unstructured, filigree layer. The woven

waters.

balustrades of the balconies are reminiscent of the baskets of hot-air balloons. At this elevated viewpoint observing the bird life, one feels like a bird perched high in a nest. Despite its strict symmetry, the structure retains a sense of delicacy and sensuousness. During the bare winter months, when the reeds are ochre-colored, the golden tones of the timber tower are intricately tied to its site and seem to emerge from the sweeping surrounding landscape. Caminada has created a clearly rational, though poetic construction where each element is integral to the other, each individual part only able to function with the support of the other to create a harmonious, unified whole.

A clever design generally combines rationality and emotionality; that is intellect and feeling. Gion A. Caminada

104

105

106

107

108

109

ELEVATION

1:100

110

VIEWING PLATFORM GROUND FLOOR

111

JÜRG CONZETT

Structural engineering is one of the most interesting occupations of human beings. Jürg Conzett

113

JÜRG CONZETT

a stairway suspended fifty meters above the valley

TRAVERSINA FOOTBRIDGE 2

floor. The new bridge is fifty-seven meters long,

VIAMALA

weighs around two hundred tons, and is made with

2005

pre-tensile steel cables. The primary cable, lateral diagonal rods, and larch wood walkway were con-

One could argue that in Switzerland the father of

structed in situ in an extraordinarily dramatic and

architecture is engineering, as the discipline grew out

hazardous manner suspended above the vertiginous

of the necessity to overcome the treacherous topog-

chasm. In a benevolent design gesture for those

raphy. Over the centuries intricate networks of

who suffer from vertigo, direct views down into the

bridges and tunnels have been built across the country

valley are averted by a layer of ten parallel glulam

like a complex web allowing the safe passage of

girders beneath the stepped walkway. These also in-

people and goods from north to south and from east

crease rigidity so that when one ascends the 176

to west, connecting even the most remote valleys

steps, the bridge barely wavers. Nevertheless, walk-

to urban centers. Engineering is simply omnipresent

ing gingerly across the valley is not for the faint

in Switzerland. The creation of man-made struc-

hearted, as one feels rather like a circus trapeze artist

tures in the daunting alpine landscape has no doubt

teetering across the ravine.

profoundly influenced the production and design

Conzett’s second Traversina footbridge is a re-

of architecture, both historically and currently. This

markable piece of engineering where design and

homage to Swiss architecture would not be complete

construction are taken to their limits. When mathe-

without showcasing one of the myriad engineering

matics and art unite in harmony, like in a Bach

feats accomplished by Swiss engineers.

fugue, something of profound beauty is created. As in

As its Latin name implies, the Viamala route

Zumthor’s fine, leaf-shaped roof at St Benedict

in the legendary ravine near Davos in Graubünden was

Chapel, Conzett’s bridge is reminiscent of the beauti-

originally regarded as being dangerous and malev-

ful mathematical structures one sees in nature:

olent. Previously, the idea was to pass through

the delicate form of a leaf, the arc of a shell, or the

the ravine as quickly as possible and to emerge safely.

slow curve of a crescent dune. A design that has

Today there is still a residual mystery in the Viamala

clear associations with patterns in nature, especially

Gorge and an allure to the raw beauty of its land-

when set in natural surroundings, is anchored

scape. Over the years it has become a popular desti-

deeply into its environment. Traversina footbridge is

nation for tourists and hikers from far and wide.

such a feat of engineering design and construction.

As part of an open-air eco-museum in the valley and

Suspended gracefully in its sheer craggy setting,

to connect two fragments of an ancient Roman trail,

both its delicacy and precision are truly admirable.

the gorge had to be traversed and the ravine bridged.

It is just one example of a myriad of superbly

Jürg Conzett, the renowned Chur-based engineer,

designed bridges that connect valleys throughout

who has worked for many prominent Swiss architects,

the country.

designed the initial Traversina footbridge, which was unfortunately destroyed by an intense spring storm in 1999. A new bridge was planned and Conzett, together with his colleague Rolf Bachofner, was commissioned once again to “bridge with gap.” It was decided to move the new bridge to a less exposed site further up the gorge. Many obstacles typical to alpine structures had to be overcome to build the bridge: a remote, inaccessible site, a tight budget, and a short construction period. An added challenge was how to overcome the obstacle of having to span the width of gorge, while connecting the twentyfive meter height difference from one side of the gorge, forty meters across to the other. Conzett chose to design a suspension bridge, or to be more precise:

114

115

116

SECTION

1:20

117

EAST ELEVATION

1:300

118

119

PETER ZUMTHOR

In a society that celebrates the inessential, architecture can put up a resistance, counteract the waste of forms and meanings, and speak its own language. Peter Zumthor

121

PETER ZUMTHOR ST BENEDICT CHAPEL SUMVITG 1985 –1988

Caplutta Sogn Benedetg, or St Benedict Chapel, was built to replace the former Baroque chapel that was crushed by an avalanche in 1984. A new site, protected by the forest above, was chosen on an old mountain trail above the hamlet, Sumvitg. The chapel’s curved walls enclose a single volume, shaped in plan like a leaf, an eye, or a boat. This form is extruded upwards and crowned by a band of clerestory lights that illuminate the chapel from above revealing the sky. Sheathed in larch wood shingles, the surface texture is reminiscent of the shimmering colors of Byzantine mosaics. There is a subtle gradation of color as the shingles turn from silver to golden as the facade curves away from the direct rays of sun. Like a face that ages gracefully over a lifetime, the chapel shows the weathering effects of time on its textured skin. Entering the chapel at an oblique angle to the main body of the building, the space abruptly expands vertically upwards. Tall, slender timber columns rise through the space and converge with ribs of timber beams on the ceiling. The timber structure is separated from the cladding by a few centimeters, creating a tension between the two and an interplay of shadows. Like a spine with structural ribs, the roof ridge gently curves over the space, enfolding it. In effect the chapel is held by three curved planes supported by timber supports, like a skeleton that gives form to the body of the building. These timber columns enable one to read the flow of structural forces bearing the weight of the roof. The lack of any eye-level window openings allows no view to distract, only the slow movement of a bow of sunshine across the wall as the day progresses. Standing inside the chapel feels like being on the inside of a musical instrument; there is a vague expectation of sound. St Benedict epitomizes Zumthor’s quiet architecture; it is discreet, but powerful. The alpine chapel communicates simple faith stripped of luxury or opulence.

122

It is only between the reality of things and the imagination that the spark of the work of art is kindled. Peter Zumthor

123

124

125

B

A

A

B

SECTION A GROUND FLOOR

1:100

126

SECTION B

127

Zumthor’s architecture celebrates the sensuous

PETER ZUMTHOR THERMAL BATHS

experience of bathing. The exhilarating shock

VALS

of plunging into cold 14 °C water directly after dipping

1990 –1996

into almost unbearably hot 42 °C makes one’s body glow, while floating outdoors in 36 °C water when

Rituals of bathing and cleansing have been part of

it’s snowing is an invigorating experience. To enter the

human civilization for millennia. In Istanbul and

sound bath you have to swim through a narrow

Budapest, Rome and Bath the ritual of bathing has

passageway into a vertical, water-filled space where

been central to social culture since ancient times.

the ceiling soars six meters above. Lit from beneath,

Peter Zumthor’s thermal baths in Vals rekindle the

the grotto is an acoustic chamber where bathers tread

“high architecture” of ancient baths and the splendid

water while humming, listening to the overlay of

buildings housing them that are a testament to

reverberating voices. In the small, enclosed, intimate

their historic importance. Using natural resources

pools Zumthor has managed to recreate the impres-

at his disposal in the alpine valley: gneiss and

sion of being in a secret coastal cave distant from the

water, Zumthor has hewn an evocative sequence of

mundane routine of everyday life, while conversely

spaces from layer upon precise layer of solid rock.

the main pools open to the landscape and are soaked

The building is cut deep into the mountain, rock

in daylight. The palette of materials—clear water,

embedded onto rock, built up in slender horizontal

polished stone, brass, chrome, leather, and velvet—

strata of Valser quartz. Deeply rooted into the

are combined with a remarkable sophistication,

mountain slope, the building literally emerges from

choreographed to enhance the essential, evocative

its own geology.

qualities of each material. The touch, smell, and

Pools of clear alpine water from deep beneath the earth are held between massive stone walls. Nothing is revealed immediately, rather it is as

sound of these materials make bathing there both a highly sensory and highly aesthetic experience. The theatricality of steaming water held in stone

you wander through the myriad of concealed spaces

is heightened by the intense modeling of light and

that you discover the building. “The meander,”

shadow. There are spaces shrouded in misty shadows

as Zumthor calls it, “is a designed negative space

and somber corners contrasted with light-flooded

between the blocks, a space that connects every-

sunny areas where you can recline and enjoy the

thing as it flows throughout the entire building.”

enormous, framed alpine views. Natural light filters

He compares exploring the complex layout of spaces

from above through long fissures between the roof

and pools to ambling through a woodland of trees,

slabs, brushing along dark stone walls, while chinks

“Like walking in a forest without a path. A feeling of

of blue light filter down onto blue water. Being in

freedom, the pleasure of discovery.”

Vals makes you acutely aware that to create architecture is to define the dimensions and enclosure of space. Through his relentless exploitation of the inherent qualities of his chosen materials, the modeling of space and the modulation of light, Zumthor has managed to elevate the simple act of bathing to an almost mystical experience.

Mountain, stone, water—building in the stone, building with the stone, into the mountain, building out of the mountain, being inside the mountain—how can the implications and the sensuality of the association of these words be interpreted architecturally? Peter Zumthor

128

129

130

131

132

A A

B

BATHING FLOOR

1:350

133

SECTION A SECTION B

1:350

134

TALKING TO PETER ZUMTHOR ARCHITECT AS AUTHOR

Peter Zumthor starts his book Thinking Architecture by stating that when he thinks about architecture, images arise within him and by drawing on intuition, memories, and free associations combined with systematic and rational thinking he develops a design. It is perhaps this seamless interplay of intuitive feeling and rational understanding that enables him to raise ordinary buildings to the extraordinary. In his book, Zumthor expresses his motivation to design buildings that arouse emotions and understanding and that have a particular presence and sense of belonging. “To me, buildings can have a beautiful silence that I associate with attributes such as composure, self-evidence, durability, presence, and integrity, and with warmth and sensuousness as well; a building that is being itself, being a building, not representing anything, just being.” In Thinking Architecture Zumthor explores our relationship to nature and the profound emotions it can evoke within us, “The beauty of nature moves something great in us.” Though we might not understand it, we sense our part in nature; we come from it and return to it. One senses this awe and admiration for nature in his work. “When I concentrate on a specific site or place for which I am going to design a building, when I try to plumb its depths, its form, its history, and its sensuous qualities, images of other places start to invade this process of precise observation: images of places I know and that once impressed me, images of ordinary or special places that I carry with me as inner visions of specific moods and qualities; images of architectural situations, which emanate from the world of art, or films, theater or literature.” This sensitivity of how architecture relates to its particular context and landscape is part of what gives his work great strength. As an architect Zumthor is interested in how one experiences a building; the fall of light on a surface, the shape of a door handle, the sound of a voice in a high room, the atmosphere of a space. Whether chapel, museum, or house, his buildings allow the essential ingredients of architecture to resonate. Like a beautiful piece of music or a painted masterpiece, his buildings capture moods and stir emotions. With his ingenious use of materials, Zumthor has been called a shaman and a mystic of his craft. He writes that it is not the materials themselves that are poetic, but the manner of their combination and their form that elevates them. “The sense that I try to instill into materials is beyond all rules of composition, and their tangibility, smell, and acoustic qualities are merely elements of the language we are obliged to use. Sense emerges when I succeed in bringing out the specific meanings of certain materials in my buildings, meanings that can only be perceived in just this way in this one building.” Zumthor’s work is restrained but powerful, both precise and sensuous. His architecture manages to reach the “hard core of beauty” he writes so poetically about.

135

Anna Roos (AR): This

publication is about the sensibility of Swiss architects

and the culture of architecture in Switzerland. I see this as a country that upholds and values the tradition of architecture, one could argue, to a greater degree than elsewhere. This is not about promoting a brand, not a white cross on a red background, but about a broad approach to a discipline. I’d like to explore what’s happening here. In this interview I would like to discuss how you perceive the unique place that Switzerland holds in the sphere of architecture internationally and explore your role in this context. How this rich architectural tradition has evolved historically. In some countries architects do not have a good reputation and laypeople like to criticize architects. I get the impression that their role is taken less seriously than here in Switzerland. Do you also get the impression that architects are generally held in higher esteem in Switzerland than elsewhere? Peter Zumthor (PZ): The profession of an architect is held in high esteem as a title in Italy, where

every architect is called a “doctor.” Switzerland has a different approach. Long ago architects used to have a good reputation here. As a child I remember my father talking respectfully about architects. He differentiated between architects who were draftsmen or “architect” architects; those who really studied architecture. He made a distinction and had a greater respect for trained architects. So he’d often say, “That is not an architect,” because in Switzerland anyone can call themselves an architect. Then during the 1960s and 1970s there was a building boom and architecture and architects in Switzerland lost their good reputation. It was sort of like “building as destroying.” There was a famous publication by an architect at that time, Rolf Keller Bauen als Umweltzerstörung (Building as Environmental Destruction). Then in the late 1970s and the beginning of the 1980s we had to consciously rebuild the reputation of the architect. I was involved with this here in Graubünden. We looked into “responsibility” through organizations like the Schweizerische Werkbund (Swiss Guild), and the Schweizer Heimatschutz (Swiss Heritage Association). We showed ourselves as being responsible for our environment and also being respectful of the past. And so we had to rebuild the reputation of the architect. AR: PZ: Yes, it

And that was evidently successful?

took some fifteen to twenty years. I initiated a prize for good building and other

initiatives like that. It took some time. I think architects are respected quite well now. AR: PZ: This

Do you think more than elsewhere?

is hard for me to say. AR: There is bold use of materials in many buildings in Switzerland, particularly

of concrete, stone, and wood, historically due to the lack of natural resources like iron. This tradition has continued to the present day. What role do you think this palette of materials and the sensitivity to materials has played in the making of architecture in this country? PZ:

I can only answer this question on a personal basis, not in a generalized way. Since I am

not so interested in the topic of architecture or the idea of Swiss architecture. I start with a place, I look around. I see mountains, I see a desert. I think of the atmosphere of my not-yet existing building, I imagine how people will use it, experience it. What can I do? What is the specific energy of materials I should use so that they will love it. So as you can see I am extremely interested in generating the right mood with the materials I pick and maybe the only Swiss thing I can see in this process is me, myself being Swiss.

136

AR:

It seems to me as if the relationship that many Swiss architects have to

their landscape and their sensitivity to the varied historic traditions of architecture informs their work even today. Pretty much wherever one is in Switzerland, the landscape is present: a river, forest, mountain, or lake. We know that Swiss architects are very much guided by the constraints and challenges of the landscape. How does this interaction take place in your work? PZ: This

is a basic in my work. I want to make things that are good for the place and good for

its use. I like to study the place, whether it is at a low or a high altitude, whether it’s in Switzerland or somewhere else. AR:

How do you go about studying the place, do you photograph and sketch,

go there many times at different times of the day and different seasons. How do you record your building sites? PZ:

It differs; I have to get a feeling for the place. AR:

Do you return to the site many times before you start your design process

and put pen to paper? PZ:

Sometimes I have a feeling right away, then I don’t have to go back. AR:

PZ: Yes. Usually

Like when you meet a person for the first time?

I don’t find it so difficult to get a feeling in L. A. or Norway, or wherever.

To see, and to react to what’s there. Sometimes I need to know more. AR: PZ: Yes, it’s

Do you record it here primarily in your head?

not so much about a scientific analysis. This could be interesting, but basically

it’s reacting to what’s there. You open up your heart and your eyes and then you can see. AR:

I have read in an interview you saying that landscape and garden grow ever

more into the interior of your designs. Has the natural surrounding become more important to you during the course of your career or has it always been so? PZ:

It has always been important to me, but its consciously becoming more and more

important. You can see this in all my works—in large-scale projects and in small-scale architecture and landscape. Yes, this is so in all of my projects, there is a kind of a garden or landscape as an integral part of the architecture. AR:

I like the idea of the garden encroaching into the interior. How would you

do this in an urban context, in Los Angeles (LACMA) for instance? PZ: The

Los Angeles County Museum of Art is located in Hancock Park or what’s left of it,

because in the second half of the twentieth century several buildings where placed in the park, taking away large pieces of it. One of the key elements of my new design is to reestablish the horizontal flow of the park by elevating the museum. Glass pavilions responding to the park and the Wilshire Boulevard generate a largely permeable ground floor below the hovering main mass of the museum. But there is more to the landscape of the place. It is an ancient landscape. Tar has surfaced and has formed pits of tar, which became traps for animals 40,000 years ago. The oil rose to the surface of these pits. The animals of the time got trapped, so now when you dig you will find layers and layers of fossils from the tar in the lakes. Fossils of mammoths and saber-tooth tigers. There is a Walt Disney kind of character in the way the tar pits address the public at the moment. I hope that with the shape, placement, and the dark material of my building I can provoke a deeper feeling for this specific place.

137

AR: You

have been working on LACMA in Los Angeles, and the House on a Hill in

Devon and, I remember last time I was here you were working on an enormous wax model of a museum on a river somewhere in Russia. I also saw huge models of an ensemble of buildings for a zinc mine museum in the mountains of Norway. Some of your most well-known buildings are in neighboring Germany. There does not seem to be anything fundamentally different about your international work. As a Swiss person, do you feel that you have the same freedom to do your work abroad as you do here? PZ: The

conditions always change from country to country. I always have to study them:

Who is the client? What’s the place? What kind of society is there? How does the building code work? Are there good craftspeople and where are they? How is the building process organized? And so on. This is always different; I study this, whether in L. A., in Norway, or in South Korea. It takes a lot of time, but it’s very important to study the specific conditions. In South Korea, where I have started a project—a teahouse—I have a lot of trust and confidence around me. It’s the same thing in L. A. and now I also know where the good craftsmen are and how I would like to organize the whole project. But basically this is similar in Switzerland. This probably has more to do with my standing. But the conditions are always different, for instance, in England they have little experience in working with concrete so they cannot do certain things. Sometimes regulations don’t make sense but you have to cope with them, like in Germany where there are a lot of regulations; and Austria has even more regulations than Switzerland. Each country has its own complexities that one needs to understand. AR:

Your work seems so strongly rooted to this landscape. How do you approach

a project and how do you react to a landscape where you don’t have a historic relationship or personal memories? PZ: You

could put it this way: we all come from somewhere. We all come from a home.

You come from a home and I come from a home, that’s where we all start. But then we go to other places and have new experiences. I’m rooted here and it’s good that I’m rooted here, because it makes me able to see the differences between places and to react to them. So this juxtaposition goes well together, the “personal” and the “foreign.” AR:

In your selection of images in the book The Images of Architects you chose

images of two Islamic buildings, Hagia Sophia and the Red Fort in Delhi as images that inspire you. In what way are you able to draw inspiration for your work from different cultures in distant places? For example when you travel to similar sites; do you sketch them and study them? PZ:

Wherever I go I’m interested in everything I see—on an intellectual level, or as a pure

experience of landscape, or of different cultures. It is always interesting to understand, but first of all it is important to simply look and see. First I ask myself, “How does this work? What is this?” I’m continuously influenced by everything I see and experience. Like everybody else, you live and you see things and then, when you face a problem there is a huge storage of images in your mind. Most of the time you don’t even know where they come from but they are there. AR: Yes, I

think as an architect wherever one travels one is aware one’s looking

and observing. PZ:

138

Probably also as a writer one does this, a lot of people look very carefully, artists too.

AR: Today

there is often a strong focus on image; this has also affected

architecture. Buildings have become brand objects and some architects have their signature style. In contrast to this many architects here are driven by a historic tradition of local materials and craftsmanship; a kind of “slow architecture.” In an interview you once said that you don’t want to be seen as a brand architect. Refusing to be trapped into a brand I’m sure allows you a kind of freedom. When presented with a big international commission like LACMA, how have you managed to remain free from this “branding”? PZ:

I always work like that whether it’s a large-scale project like LACMA or a small project in

a neighboring village. I probably work more like an artist. I have a project and then I look and I start to come up with something which I think makes sense, so if the image gets in my way I have to fight it. Or, in the worst case, I say, “I cannot work for you.” Because if it’s only about the name and the image, then I can’t continue. So I have to find out early on whether my clients are sincere. AR:

Has that happened before that you’ve had to withdraw?

PZ: Yes, it has happened a couple of times. I’ve had to think, “Okay, if it’s more about the image

then I won’t do it,” because I always want to create the whole building. I can see that big architectural firms do a lot of more-or-less commercial work. In some offices nobody makes a drawing any more. I think that’s another way of working, maybe it’s also another way of making money, but I’m not like that. I am interested in the kind of work which keeps me going. I work more like an author. AR: To

me it is telling that rather than being lured by the bright lights of the big

city, you have chosen to remain in Haldenstein. Clearly you are not seduced by the celebrity circuit, but are more interested in continuing your pursuit of architecture here in this small village. Does this tie into a pursuit to remain somehow free? PZ:

I’m here in this place because I found my wife here and we wanted to stay here. We have

people working here from twelve different nations at the moment. In this mundane place I can ask, “How is it in Lebanon? How is it in England? How is it in Poland?” So spiritually we are actually part of the world but we happen to work here, it’s accidental. I think this turned out to be a really beautiful place to live and work. Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened to me. If you’d have asked me thirty years ago, “Would you like to create a big office and work around the whole world; become a Pritzker Prize winner and work in Haldenstein,” then I would have said, maybe that’s a contradiction. But I never had these ideas, it just happened to me. In my life the best things happen without premeditation. I’m glad I didn’t get many of the things I wanted. I found that out later in life. AR: Your

path to becoming an architect has not been a classical one. During

the 1960s and 1970s, you went from carpentry to furniture design, industrial design to interior design, and then eventually progressed to architecture. Do you think this unconventional path might have also liberated you in a way allowing you to create your own authentic position? PZ: Looking back I think its suits me well. Let’s say I learned how to make things in my father’s

workshop for four years. Then I learned about history and art history, and the history of buildings from working for the Department for the Preservation of Monuments in Graubünden. Before this, I had an extremely good year doing a course at the Kunstgewerbeschule (Arts and Craft School) in Basel. I didn’t realize at the time how important this would be later on. The teachers there taught us the crafts of how to draw, how to paint, and how to watercolor. You need these skills as an architect I would say. The Vorkurs, as the name says, came from the Bauhaus. They still teach these skills today, but now it’s more intellectual maybe. At that time it was completely focused on learning skills. These skills are scarce today. I use them everyday, and I can see how my young architects often make drawings that are not in proportion; they sometimes lack these skills… But that was a wonderful year, making and learning these artistic skills. The rest is personal looking and feeling.

139

AR: Yes, certainly

one feels this in your work, the fact that you’ve had an inti-

mate knowledge of how things are put together. Because, especially in Anglo-Saxon countries, architecture is approached as an academic subject, and architects often don’t know how to put materials together. PZ: Yes, only

the surface is treated and someone else puts it together. No, here in Haldenstein

I teach my people to come from the inside out, not only in the buildings, but also in the real materialization and construction, from the inside out. We know how to construct. AR: You

might work in this small village in Graubünden but you are certainly an

inspiration to architects all over the world. You are a testament to the fact that it is possible to remain true to your concept. But some say, “Yes but that’s Zumthor,” you belong in your own category. For “normal” architects this level is nigh impossible to achieve. Do you also see this as a privileged position or do you see it purely as a matter of principle? PZ:

I can only do the best, which comes to my mind faced with the work I do; my work. I can

only say to myself, “This is the best I can do, I am satisfied with this now. This is it.” So you can call this “non-compromising,” but it’s actually a result of a process, it’s not a decision not to make compromises. If you write a book, or if you compose a piano piece then this matter of compromise in an artistic work is not so curious. I work mainly as an author. I’m an architect as an author, so I work in a similar way as an artist would work, and an artist has to follow his personal truth. I want to do something which works well and which fits to the place; as if it were for myself. I have to be excited about it. The building has to fit to the place; it has to fit to its use. I write a building like a piece of music, like you would write a book, or write a poem and then this is just how it has to be. To create my architecture I also have to work together with many people. And of course the client is very important. AR:

It’s difficult because there are so many people involved, authorship is

maybe more difficult when creating a piece of architecture. PZ: The

difference is, I’m a conductor and composer with a big orchestra on site. And then

there’s also the client who comes and says, “No, don’t play this.” So the client and I, we have to understand each other: If the client is not interested in my ideas then I can’t work with him, but if the client says, “I’m interested in the way that you work. Can you make a composition for me? I wouldn’t know how to compose it, but see this is the task,” then I’m okay. I always do the best I can, as if it were for myself. AR:

It seems as though you don’t overtly reference other buildings, or if at

all tangentially. You spent a decade working in the heritage department here in Chur. Did you find that experience has had a specific influence on your work? PZ:

It’s part of my “off-center” kind of architecture education, this is what I was mentioning

before. I studied let’s say around 5,000 old farmhouses trying to understand how they were built and constructed, how old they were and how they came together as buildings. We made drawings and inventories and so on. There were farmhouses as well as some “higher architecture”—though all alpine architecture. I did this for eight to ten years. I learned a lot technically and historically, and also about the development of architecture and about vernacular architecture in this region. There were some traces of well-known artists who came into the village to work as well, so you could see the vernacular and the stylish juxtaposed—you could see a merging of the two. This was a great time for me.

140

AR: The

chapter title “The Hard Core of Beauty” ¹ in your book Thinking Archi­

tecture is evocative. The concentrated substance of a building that imbues beauty. I can imagine that you don’t set out overtly to create something beautiful, but that it is something that happens when all the thousands of decisions that you make combine in an entirety. “Does beauty have a form?” I realize it’s a big topic, but can you elaborate on that? PZ:

Beauty is something very personal, the experience of beauty doesn’t happen so often.

It has to do with a chemical, emotional reaction in your body where all of a sudden you find something to be beautiful. There’s this argument that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, which is true for me. But not every object stirs this emotion of beauty, obviously it needs something on the other side. Like, for example, if you fall in love with a woman, it needs something else opposite to set up something beautiful. So that’s what I do: I create these objects and hope that they might be a beautiful object for users and others. I’m sure you also know that if you want to reach this ideal, it probably has to ring true in a way. I think if you don’t want artificial beauty, there is a more essential beauty. I came to realize that I probably do have the talent to create beautiful space, and form, and balance, where everything starts to come together. I can see that for some people this is difficult, because they look and say, “Oh how can you do this?” I guess there is a sensitivity and talent I have. Of course I’m not the only one, many people have this. You also have to accept that it’s a beautiful human capacity. There are even more beautiful talents than I have. There are great people like Mozart and Bach, they had a talent which is unbelievable. This is the greatness of human beings that every once in a while there are incredible talents that you can hardly explain. I’m not putting myself on that level. I respect that some things don’t come from me, they don’t come from work—they come from nature. ¹ From a poem by the American poet William Carlos Williams

141

SAVIOZ FABRIZZI

Our approach to architecture seeks balance between spatiality and the expression of materials in order to reveal the intrinsic qualities of a site and built heritage. Savioz Fabrizzi

143

SAVIOZ FABRIZZI

Access to the main room on the upper level is via

MAISON BOISSET

a steep staircase, like a tree-house ladder. Monastic

LE BIOLLEY

in its simplicity, the only furniture is the double

2012

bed and a cupboard, also crafted from larch wood. The pitched roof is expressed in the interior of the

A significant proportion of architecture in Switzerland

bedroom; the original crossbeam at the apex disrupts

consists of renovating old rural buildings and farm-

the uniformity of the surfaces and is a reminder

houses. Casa d’Estate by Buchner Bründler is an

that this structure dates back over a century. A strip

example in Ticino, while Maison Boisset is an example

of light filters into the space through an elongated

in the French-speaking canton, Valais. The project

opening that corresponds to the eye level of someone

brief for Sion-based architects, Savioz Fabrizzi was to

seated in the bed, while a glazed door opens onto

convert an old, triple-story barn into a contemporary

the L-shaped balcony from where one can enjoy the

holiday house. The building is situated in Le Boilley,

spectacular aerial views of the alpine landscape.

a village high in the Alps near Martigny. Typical of

There is a bunkroom on the lower level with en-suite

local vernacular architecture, the barn is comprised

bathroom, also fully clad in larch wood. A glass

of timber-board construction supported above

door replaced the old cattle grate to allow light and

the ground by a stone base to protect the timber from

access from the children’s room to the exterior.

snow and to insulate the house from the icy winters.

The crisp, clean timber finishes impart the interiors

The building is perched vertiginously above the valley,

with a flavor of traditional Japanese architecture.

the elevation affording panoramic vistas. From

The steep incline of the site affords the building

the exterior, the sharp, glazed front door flush with

direct access to the outside on two levels: both the

the stonework is the only hint of the sleek interior

kitchen level and the lower level.

transformation. The house consists of three, sixteen-meter-square

Thanks to clever planning and fine detailing, Savioz Fabrizzi has managed to create a spacious

spaces on three levels: the kitchen/dining area

feeling, even though the entire house is merely forty-

is sandwiched between two bedrooms, one above for

eight square meters. The rustic stone and raw

adults and the other below for children. The entry

timber exterior is juxtaposed by the delicate, smooth

cuts through massive stone walls, allowing access

surfaces of the interior spaces. This powerful

into the kitchen-dining space which is clad in honey-

contrast of old and new builds up tension. It is this

colored larch panels. Within the compact space all

dichotomy that gives the project its strength.

fittings are meticulously crafted, creating a cabin-like atmosphere. In order to mitigate the small-scale dimensions, Savioz Fabrizzi had to plan the rooms with the utmost care in order to utilize every inch of space. Thus, the windowsill doubles as a seating bench that turns the corner around the dining table, while the full height of the rooms is used for cupboard space. The kitchen unit is tucked into a wall niche and is perfectly aligned with the window opening. The frame of the window is carefully concealed behind the cladding, thereby emphasizing the landscape and drawing nature into the building. Thanks to the almost zen-like reduction of the interiors, the eye is left undistracted, allowing one to fully enjoy the breathtaking views stretched across the valley below.

144

145

146

147

148

149

SITE PLAN

SECTION

1:1,000

1:100

150

1ST FLOOR GROUND FLOOR −1FLOOR

1:100

151

SAVIOZ FABRIZZI

The building is organized on three, staggered

MAISON RODUIT

levels on an L-shaped plan with the kitchen positioned

CHAMOSON

at its heart. Three interior floor levels are reflected

2005

on the exterior by three pitched roofs that build up to a climax at the intersection of the two wings where

As with other projects showcased in this publication,

the house reaches its highest level, while the pointed

the landscape plays an integral role in the archi-

gabled roofs echo the serrated peaks soaring

tecture. Maison Roduit cannot be disconnected from

above. The highest level culminates in the main bed-

the drama of the jagged mountains looming in the

room with its own en-suite bathroom and walk-in

background; indeed the house seems to emerge

cupboard. A corner of the room is cut away to create

directly from its geology and has an intense sense of

a gallery that looks down into the double-volume

belonging to the site. Laurent Savioz was commis-

kitchen area below, enabling the three-dimensionality

sioned by local artists to revitalize the old, rural

of the house to be perceived. Like a pinwheel, the

farmhouse in Chamoson that had been neglected and

kitchen extends to the living room on the south, and

had fallen into disrepair. The renovation is the latest

the atelier to the west. The robust use of materials

in a long history of construction on the building

on the exterior is continued in the interiors,

dating back to 1814. Rather than simply gutting the

which are formed from unrefined mineral materials:

house, the architects salvaged and upgraded the

natural stone, exposed concrete, and polished

dilapidated structure. The exterior volume has been

screed floors. Thus the materialization of the building

retained and the stone facades preserved wherever

both inside and out is sustained with the same

possible.

confidence and rigor.

What is most striking is the rustic stonework

The former window apertures have been retained,

of the building and the lively interplay of textured sur-

while a few larger openings were added to allow

faces. The architects sought to reinforce the strong

natural light and to open the interior spaces to

mineral character and emphasize the stonework

the breathtaking landscape. In order to minimize the

by replacing sections of the building previously made

impact of the new openings on the volume of the

of timber weatherboarding with solid concrete. Thus

house and to utilize the substantial thickness of

the massive, rough stone walls are juxtaposed with

the walls, the architects have kept the windows flush

flat planes of exposed concrete subtly embossed with

with the exterior surface. In contrast, the existing

the grain of the timber shuttering. The juxtaposition

punctured windows are recessed into the wall

of the two materials and the contrast of surfaces

surface, creating deep shadow lines and revealing the

imparts a powerful, corporeal quality to the archi-

depth of the solid walls from the outside.

tecture. By lining the interior with an insulating layer

Switzerland has one of the most sophisticated

of concrete mixed with foamed recycled glass

ecological building standards worldwide and

(Misapor), a threefold upgrade was made: a new load-

the Swiss take pride in their ecological architecture.

bearing structure was formed, the old stone walls

While Savioz Fabrizzi has been respectful to the

were reinforced, and thermal insulation was provided.

existing fabric of the two-hundred-year-old house,

The massive, monolithic walls create a profound

the practice has also managed to upgrade it

sense of shelter and protection. The house is both

to the latest ecological standards. Thanks to the high

archaic, “ur-abode,” and a contemporary home at the

level of thermal insulation, controlled ventilation,

same time.

and energy supply from renewable sources, Maison Roduit complies with the Swiss “Minergie” energy conservation standard. Twenty-three square meters of solar panels on the roof generate around thirty-five percent of the annual heating requirement for heating and hot water supply. The strong material quality of this building in stone and concrete lends the architecture its force. The intervention is a modern continuum of alterations that the building has undergone over the centuries. It is a robust building that will probably endure well into the next century.

152

The imposing proximity of the rocks and its stone construction lend this building a unity with its surroundings. Savioz Fabrizzi

153

154

155

156

157

158

2ND FLOOR 1ST FLOOR SITE PLAN

GROUND FLOOR

1:1,000

1:300

159

SECTION

ANDREAS FUHRIMANN GABRIELLE HÄCHLER

Perhaps the myth of Swiss architecture is only a perception from outside, like Switzerland itself. Gabrielle Hächler

161

ANDREAS FUHRIMANN GABRIELLE HÄCHLER FINISHING TOWER ROTSEE, LUCERNE 2012 – 2013

The interesting aspect about the finishing tower on Lake Rotsee, near Lucerne, is that for most of the year it is not in use. The building remains closed during the winter months until July and opens for a few weeks of feverish activity during the annual summer rowing regatta, when it springs to life. While in use, the large-format shutters are slid open and popped up, exposing the interior spaces to the wide stretch of lake and the oarsmen in their sleek boats gliding past the finishing line that the tower demarcates. The height of the tower affords a vantage point from where the jury, press, and regatta committee can marshal the time of the rowers and observe proceedings from an elevated position. Zurich-based architects, Andreas Fuhrimann Gabrielle Hächler, think of their Zielturm or “finishing tower” as a hybrid structure—both functional and sculptural at the same time. As the surrounding natural landscape changes its guise when the seasons turn, so the tower stands closed and silent, an abstract form, sentinel-like, its watery reflection mirrored in the dark waters of the Red Lake. During the rowing regatta season, it takes up its “real” architectural function and opens up to the long body of water. Supported on a concrete platform, the prefabricated timber tower is composed of three spaces stacked above one another, rather like the wooden blocks from a child’s toy box. The manner in which the levels slightly shift in plan and the light-weight quality of the timber give the tower a light-hearted feel. It is reminiscent of a waterside bird-hide. Held above the water surface by concrete pillars, the structure appears to hover above the lake allowing the painterly landscape to envelop it. A slender concrete pier allows access to the tower across the water, anchoring the light timber structure onto the lakeshore. Together with the concrete stairway that links the lower level to the upper levels, the concrete jetty creates a solid spine that holds the tower visually, giving it weight. When closed the Zielturm is a quiet, enigmatic building that evokes a feeling of contemplation and possibility; but when opened up it is vibrant and playful.

There are universal aspects of architecture, general principles that apply. Nevertheless a feel for atmospheres is created regionally. Gabrielle Hächler

162

163

164

165

166

B A

A

2ND FLOOR

GROUND FLOOR

1:200

167

B

1ST FLOOR

SECTION A SECTION B

1:200

168

WEST ELEVATION

169

VALERIO OLGIATI

When you’re surrounded by the physical mass of these mountains, decisions are more simple, more direct. In this setting, we can operate in heavier dimensions. Valerio Olgiati

171

VALERIO OLGIATI

The white exterior is drawn into the interior

THE YELLOW HOUSE

exhibition spaces: walls and ceilings are white and

FLIMS

the timber floors are whitewashed. What is most

1997

conspicuous about the interior is the asymmetry. A heavy oak structural column is positioned off

Like snow covers a winter landscape in a unifying

center, creating an imbalance and precariousness

blanket of white, so the entire volume of the Yellow

to the spaces. The manner in which the column veers

House—regardless of the material beneath;

off at an obtuse angle in the upper level to meet

concrete, stone, or wood—is washed in pure white.

the roof apex exacerbates this sense of tilting

The brilliant surface visually distances the building

and being off-kilter. Olgiati plays with our senses and

from its local environment and radically transforms

makes us acutely aware of architecture as an art

an old farmhouse into a clean, modern piece of

form. This relatively small-scale building in a little

architecture where exhibitions on alpine architecture

town in the Alps of Graubünden is an internationally

are held. Valerio Olgiati’s clever renovation debunks

significant piece of contemporary architecture.

any preconception of quaint alpine architecture. The white cube is abstract; the bright white reflects every ray of sunlight to create a pure vision far removed from the mundane. From afar the museum looks like a minimalist sculpture, but as you move closer the patina of history is subtly revealed. Olgiati is a highly intellectual architect who likes to subvert norms and to challenge one’s perception. He believes that architects should make fundamental assertions about architecture; for him design is a thought process. Olgiati’s changes to the original building are selective and precise; nothing is arbitrary or random. He relocates the original street entrance to the eastern facade on the side of the building and raises it off the ground plane by a flight of stairs, creating a strip of concrete that reaches up to become a deep, cantilevered overhang. These are the only surfaces that have not been whitewashed, revealing their “naked” surface and demarcating the entry. The window reveals have been upgraded with in-situ cast concrete giving the openings a crisp, exact edge. To create the rustic, almost archaic surface texture, the old stone facades were remodeled with hammers and chisels. These crude surfaces starkly contrast the smooth concrete additions, though all are unified into a homogeneous whole by the white lime-wash. In order to heighten the facade and to create cubic proportions, the building has been crowned with a band of concrete.

172

The final coat of white, the finest of lime-washes, forms the outermost skin of the building. It conceals anything left unfinished. At the same time it points to a certain contradiction. The white lime-wash seems to turn the childlike archaism and animal substance of this structure into an abstract thought—which for its part gives the house itself the appearance of a “vision.” Valerio Olgiati

173

174

175

SOUTH ELEVATION SECTION

SITE PLAN

1:200

1:1,500

176

2ND FLOOR 1ST FLOOR GROUND FLOOR

1:200

177

By mixing pigment and crushed stone into the

VALERIO OLGIATI ATELIER BARDILL

concrete mix, the building mimics the rich brown

SCHARANS

tones of the old timber chalets surrounding it, thereby

2006–2007

integrating it into the village. Olgiati has elevated the material by infusing it with rich color and emboss-

Valerio Olgiati is renowned for his conceptually radical

ing it with intricate, handcrafted relief patterns that

architecture; his buildings are often confronta-

wrap the building inside and out, from the eaves to

tional and avant-garde. For Atelier Bardill in Scharans,

the ground. The architect is adamant that the random

south of Chur, Olgiati was commissioned by the

pattern of rosettes—inspired by the decoration of

well-known Swiss writer and musician, Linard Bardill

an old Baroque chest belonging to Bardill—is a pure

who bought a dilapidated old barn in the center

decorative fancy that holds no symbolism. It does

of the hamlet. Olgiati was not enthusiastic about the

however strengthen the conception of the building as

idea of simply renovating the old barn, but neither

monolithic and monochrome, while also reducing

were the local residents eager to have an outlandish

the building’s monumentality. The all-encompassing

piece of modern architecture dominating the

surface treatment creates a homogeneous whole

historic fabric of their hamlet. A compromise was

within and without, reflecting the way the atelier

agreed upon to recreate the new building within the

oscillates between privacy and openness to the public

exact silhouette contour of the old barn.

and echoing metaphorically the way the lives of

The building Olgiati conceived is not at all what

artists vacillate between the introvert solitude of

it seems at first glance. From the outside it looks

creation and the extrovert showcasing of their work.

monolithic and solid and there is an expectation of

This private /public fluctuation is also reflected

a series of large spaces behind the monolithic

in the building via the large aperture in the western

gable roofs. This unspoken promise is not fulfilled

facade facing the village square. The opening

though, as within the walls is only one, single sixty-

looks out at the surroundings and affords views of the

square-meter space. This rust-colored space with its

alp, Piz Beverin, while also allowing the public a

triangular fireplace wedged into the corner is

glimpse into the atrium from the square. This struc-

Bardill’s atelier. Although the building might seem

ture invites one to consider what defines a building:

monolithic, the bulk of the volume is actually a void,

the facade envelope or the enclosed interior

an atrium open to the sky enclosed by walls and

spaces? Does a building have to have a roof to be

crowned theatrically by an elliptically shaped cutout.

defined as a building? What can be said for certain is

Like an illusionist, Olgiati has conjured up a build-

that Olgiati’s architecture is both highly provocative

ing out of thin air in an ironic gesture typical of his

and aesthetically appealing. It never fails to

work.

surprise.

By using the red concrete it has a more natural touch, it is wilder, like it has grown out of the earth. My white buildings, on the other hand, are more the product of a disciplined intellect. Valerio Olgiati

178

179

180

181

182

WEST ELEVATION SECTION SITE PLAN

GROUND FLOOR

1:5,000

1:200

183

A CULTIVATED ORDINARINESS

Cultural Models in Recent Swiss Architecture Irina Davidovici

184

Since the 1990s, Swiss architecture has been gaining a steady following. Two Pritzker Prize winners in one decade, Herzog & de Meuron in 2001 and Peter Zumthor in 2009, as well as a great number of signature buildings built by Swiss practices in international locations, show architecture to be one of the country’s most successful exports. This global discourse is dominated by a handful of household names, whose buildings inside and outside Switzerland are eagerly received and lengthily discussed in the professional and lay press. Architectural tourism has become an established occurrence, not only in the main cities but also in remote locations in Graubünden and Ticino, where famous architects have been responsible at one time or another for local public buildings and private houses. The visitors of architectural landmarks will notice that such special projects do not, however, court the attention of outsiders. Rather, they are usually engaging in meaningful dialogue with the well built, carefully maintained environments in which they are located. Unlike much of Europe, where man-made landscapes are preponderant, those crossing Switzerland along the most established routes get a high dose of seemingly natural picturesqueness. Lakes and mountains punctuate every other stretch of high- and railway. The rural industry is small in scale and tightly controlled, complementing quaint, churched villages and traditional-looking farmhouses. Suburban sprawl flashes only briefly past the windshields and billboards, and advertisements are few and far between. In such settings those accustomed to the big names of Swiss architecture will often spot buildings that look like tributes to their work. Sleek concrete constructions and sheds abstractly clad in timber slats fleetingly catch the eye as being designed, rather than expediently constructed. Such structures are rather ambiguous: on one hand they claim attention through a level of aesthetic ambition that surpasses their functionality as houses or workshops. On the other hand, by taking a previously radical architectural statement and normalizing it through repetition, they relegate it once again to the domain of the functional. This interplay between anonymous and authored architecture is not surprising in a country whose sophisticated transport infrastructure of viaducts, bridges, and dams is in itself a major Baukunst. It is not just that such engineered structures, despite being built for utility, have an unquestionably emotional effect. They also draw attention to a culturally embedded trait of Swiss production, namely its quality. The demand for precision in the provision of infrastructure has created a high level of skill within the construction industry, on which architects have grown used to rely. For this reason concrete structures—whether signaling stations, houses, or museums—are more frequent here and less controversial than in other countries; their smoothness both metaphorical and literal. Traditional materials, like timber and stone, display a similar level of technical know-how, in their case rooted less in industrial precision than in the craft culture that still characterizes Switzerland’s rural regions. They too provide sources for contemporaneous architectural work, and not merely as historical precedents. Building in timber is particularly established and thus seen to be the most appropriate material, especially in locations where it is cheap and plentiful, and where the knowledge of working with it has been passed down through generations. Just as the dominant materials vary between urban and rural locations, the architectural strategies that they call into being are also different. Whether the backdrop is a traditional village or an Alpine range, the implausible picturesqueness of Swiss countryside serves contemporary architecture very well. Three strategies dominate here, of which the first—the creation of abstract artifacts like Valerio Olgiati’s Visitor’s Center at Zernez—is of little relevance to the present discussion of models and copies. Intended to stand out against their background, such buildings do not lend themselves easily to replication and normalization. Their presence is as surprising as it is unique in these areas of outstanding natural beauty, where conservative forces often prevail.

185

A widespread and more ambivalent strategy consists of combining forms or materials borrowed from traditional architecture with others easily identifiable as being contemporary. Olgiati’s atelier for the musician Linard Bardill in Scharans and the little Lieptgas cabin by Nickisch Walder on the outskirts of Flims are cases in point. While poured in concrete, their pitched roofs and compact volumetries precisely replicate the outline of the agricultural structures they have replaced, which is the planning condition for many new developments in protected rural areas. These predetermined dimensions are not that well suited to current use: the former building is too big for a musician’s recording studio, the latter rather too small for a full-fledged holiday cabin. Both works, however, use these restrictions creatively. Olgiati’s project only encloses a third of the outlined volume, allowing the rest to operate as a hortus conclusus, doubling up as outdoor venue for intimate concerts. Nickisch and Walder increased the original volume by digging underground and revealing in the process a natural geological formation, memorably framed in the lower window. Both projects make use of the fluidity of concrete in order to recall the traditional original structures yet compensate for these with modern radical means, whether red pigment and pattern in the case of the former or an insulated cast of the previous log cabin in the case of the latter. The third strategy, the almost complete replication of traditional forms, materials, and details, consciously removes the distance between the new architecture and its vernacular models. While seemingly the least radical, this has the most intriguing implications. On one hand they are most likely to blend unobtrusively with their surroundings and lay claim to the wholeness of traditional architecture, on the other they can easily be overlooked as architectural statements with an independent artistic value. Amounting over time to an infrastructural project, the private houses, small public facilities, and utilitarian structures built by Gion A. Caminada over the years in his native Vrin employ the materials and construction methods at hand, placing timber volumes built in the local strickbau technique over stone bases, in the manner of most existing houses. The buildings use a slightly abstract volumetry and construction details, but to the untrained eye, the color of new timber is the only mark distinguishing them from the fabric of the village. While this adoption of traditional means creates a rapprochement of the architectural object and its intended use, it also makes it hard to distinguish the authored statements from purely utilitarian structures. Swiss cities present a different problem, spurred by a typical condition of anonymity. As a rule, existing Swiss urban environments tend towards upholding the existing norms. Although some practices are interested in producing singular buildings, such developments are usually relegated to the peripheries. In Zurich or Geneva, where vast opportunities for rebuilding have recently opened through the relocation of industries, the accent is placed on replicating a sense of urbanity: high density, vast street fronts, regular grids of openings, hard landscaping. Commissions are distributed among local and international practices through professional competitions and collaborations, the heterogeneity of different authorships being intended to create an atmosphere of spontaneous, piecemeal development. The demands for originality of expression on one hand and adherence to recognizable types on the other give rise to intense, challenging urban experiences. In city centers there are fewer opportunities for grand architectural statements. New developments are usually politically sensitive, leading rarely to the creation of “monuments”—one-off prestigious buildings such as museums—and more frequently to “houses,” in which various programs are concealed behind regular facades similar to that of the predominant urban types. The generality of such areas is itself intriguing. It is not unusual to walk past authored buildings published all over the world, and which fit so well in the existing context that they do not attract any particular attention to themselves. Diener & Diener’s residential and office developments in Basel deliberately blend in with the existing city fabric, rather than assert themselves as authored architectural artifacts. Replicating the characteristically anonymous urban types, these projects oscillate between the invisibility of mass-produced units and autonomous forms. They perpetrate an understanding of the European city as a cohesive, if heterogeneous, cultural proposition.

186

The theoretical armature behind such developments dates back to the 1970s, when Swiss architects began experimenting with various techniques to integrate architectural objects into their surroundings. After two post-war decades had almost exhausted the range of architectural modernism, the Western architectural discourse was once again beginning to view history as a source of inspiration. But, whereas nineteenth-century historicism had concentrated on heroic models, as if to bestow Classical glory upon prosperous capitalist societies, after two world wars this discredited notion was viewed with more caution. As Neorealism and Pop Art would so clearly show, the preferred historical precedents were no longer the extraordinary and the monumental, but rather the humble and ordinary. In the Swiss case, the search for culturally relevant precedents revealed two main models, equally determined by pragmatic rather than purely representational needs. The oldest, used predominantly in rural situations, was the traditional architecture of peasant houses and agricultural structures, where the use of stone and timber had in time been elevated to a high level of skill. The more urban the project, the more ubiquitous, consisting of modernist housing and industrial developments common in Switzerland since the 1930s. Originating in a heroic factory aesthetic, this kind of moderate modernism was nevertheless removed from the radical left-wing ideology associated with the modernist avant-garde of the 1920s. Instead, its longevity was rooted in its capacity to represent the dominance and interests of an economically prosperous bourgeoisie. The turn to history in order to make sense of the present situation was theoretically grounded in Postmodernism: namely the use of a doubly coded architecture, targeting an audience of connoisseurs through sophisticated references, while courting popular appreciation with the use of familiar, widely recognizable design motifs. Although dismissive of Postmodernism’s eclectic formalism, Swiss architects were strongly influenced by two key postmodernist thinkers, Aldo Rossi and Robert Venturi. From Rossi’s evocative, yet ambivalent notion of “analogous architecture,” they learnt to employ familiar types and forms that would imbue new buildings with rich associations built over far longer periods of time. Venturi’s rhetorical question “Is not Main Street almost all right?” signaled a genuine, if slightly condescending interest in everyday environments.¹ For the Swiss, his writings opened a way of coming to terms with their local versions of “ugly and ordinary architecture.” The industrial peripheries, anonymous suburbs, and anodyne housing estates that had characterized the experiences of growing up in 1950s Switzerland became valid models for the Swiss architectural generation emerging in the late 1970s. The interest in forms, materials, and environments rendered familiar through use and repetition was more palpable in the early to mid-1980s. The early projects of Herzog & de Meuron or Diener & Diener made reference to common urban and suburban types, gardens, and industrial structures. Peter Zumthor, who before setting up his practice had worked as carpenter and later as conservation architect, found inspiration in the mountain architecture in and around Chur. The adherence to the regional characteristics and cultural references of each project gave rise from the outset to a wide and diverging discourse that cannot be placed simply under the banner of a national Swiss identity. But one thread connecting these designs was their artistic ambition, not manifested at a conceptual level. Swiss projects continue to adopt techniques of camouflage by replicating the forms or materiality of local architecture—a strategy combining artistic or intellectual reasoning with more pragmatic concessions to planning requirements and popular taste. Whether aesthetically or politically motivated—frequently a mixture of both—such gestures of mediation and restraint tend to add, rather than subtract from the merit of the original artistic impulse. As radical visions encounter the demanding realities of specific locations, established construction techniques, programmatic requirements, or budget limits, they are subjected to processes of selection and refinement that result in better, richer, more evocative designs. Peter Zumthor’s early projects are a demonstration of sorts, grounded in a personal search for buildings that “give the impression of being a self-evident part of their surroundings, [that] seem to be saying: ‘I am as you see me and I belong here.’”²

187

This aesthetic of the self-evident is not without ambiguities. In trying to look “as if it had always been there,” an architecture that replicates the spontaneity of vernacular or industrial building taps into a rich area of cultural memory. One immediate problem is the improbability of achieving the so-called “authenticity” of the originals. Artistic ambition results in differentiation, which implies a degree of alienation. Once conceptualized, the “self-evident” becomes ever harder to attain. The efforts to replicate the simple and direct correlations between form, material, and construction found in traditional or utilitarian architectures are, generally, neither simple nor direct. Another problem is that of the fraught relationship of copies to their models. Once history and tradition start to be used as a repository of forms for contemporary designs, there is little guidance to establish what constitutes appropriate referencing and what does not. There is no clear boundary between legitimate quotation and second-rate pastiche. Each building that bridges tradition and innovation in a genuinely valuable manner will almost inevitably be followed by a number of diluted copies, replicating the formal or material character of the original without its intellectual acuity. In Switzerland, moderation is historically constituted and politically reinforced. The integration of architectural objects into their environment is part of the local culture, representing a manner of social responsibility. The intense scrutiny of vernacular architecture, its references and quotations in contemporary production are a consequence of this cultural conditioning. Here, as elsewhere however, a contemporary architecture struggling for definition has to balance the demands of wider intelligibility with those of artistic ambition. The issue of influences runs in two directions. While initially, supported by an intellectual positioning, “high architecture” borrowed from anonymous construction, the opposite is increasingly the case. Formal devices and technical innovations first articulated in unique and experimental projects have been absorbed into the mainstream. The greatest danger in this phenomenon of normalization lies in purely formal reproduction, without an appropriate level of technical or intellectual circumspection. The replication is not problematic in itself: at an empirical level, all architecture is rooted in the reproduction, adoption, and adaptation of precedents. Such processes open a wide spectrum of possibilities. One extreme is trivial, even morally questionable developments, intended to compensate through economic gain whatever they lack in cultural value. At another end are those rare and all the more valuable instances when an anonymous copy attains the spontaneous correlation of form and purpose that has evaded its more pedigreed model. The elusive quality of a “self-evident” architecture sometimes results from artistic ambition being overruled by the demands of reasonableness. ¹ Venturi, Robert. Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture. New York: The Museum of Modern Art Press, 1966, p. 104. ² Zumthor, Peter. Thinking Architecture. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2006, p. 17.

188

BEARTH & DEPLAZES

Creating architecture is like chess, you play against an opponent, but in effect against yourself. You challenge yourself—the stronger you are, the better. Andrea Deplazes

189

BEARTH & DEPLAZES

Beyond the courtrooms, there is more to discover

WITH DURISCH + NOLLI

and admire in this building: an enormous wall

CRIMINAL COURTS

mural by Giuseppe Bolzani from 1952, which the archi-

BELLINZONA

tects were obliged to keep due to its historical sig-

2013

nificance. The mural adorns the dark, timber-paneled cafeteria on the first floor facing the piazza. This

Behind a handsomely proportioned, stark white neo-

communal area enriches the whole and creates a

classical facade, hidden from the view of the general

counterpoint to the whiteness elsewhere. The library,

public, lies an unexpected architectural jewel.

encircling the angled ceiling construction on the

The building, formerly a business school, houses the

second floor, is also noteworthy. It is suspended above

federal criminal courts and is situated in the

the main courtroom, metaphorically as a kind of

Italian-speaking canton, Ticino. For the architects—

“higher order” of accumulated knowledge. The library

Valentin Bearth, Andrea Deplazes and Daniel Ladner

is furnished in deep, smoked oak and is lit from

in collaboration with Pia Durisch and Aldo Nolli—

above with diffuse light. The light courts, where the

it was clear that rather than demolishing the building,

stairs are situated that lead up to the offices, slice

they would renovate and extend the existing

through the entire depth of the building and are also

structure, which dates back to 1895. The extension is

flooded with natural light. Ascending the stairs

seamless: the architects applied the dimensions

towards the light are views across the entire triple-

of the old building, continued the eaves line, adopted

height volume creating a certain drama. Delicate

vertical windows of the same size and proportion

touches of gold bronze in the slender balustrades add

as the original, and continued the color scheme

a sense of refinement and prestige to the building.

in bright, white concrete. It has been conceived with

The sheer perfection of the concrete work is

such sensitivity that the new addition is scarcely

astounding, with the straight, sharp edges and scal-

noticeable.

loped curves of the window reveals displaying

On approaching the building from the old city,

the height of precision craftsmanship. This building

the brilliant white facades shine out from the

manages to express opulence while being reserved

surrounding urban fabric and, on entering, one is

at the same time; it is concrete proof that it is

unprepared for the spatial spectacle that lies behind

possible to revitalize an old building in a respectful,

the portico, beyond the security lobby and revolv-

innovative manner, creating a beautiful new piece of

ing doors. The progression of intermediary spaces

architecture that captures the zeitgeist of the

leads to the lightness and brightness of a courtroom

twenty-first century.

that flows through concertina folding doors into another, even higher, even brighter chamber illuminated from a skylight high above. The restraint and reserve of the lower areas is counterbalanced by the magnificent vaults that rise up to gather light from the oculi at their apexes. Massive, precast triangular concrete elements reflect the triangular shape of the pyramidal ceiling space. The swirling, organic texture of the surface is not a mere decorative fancy, but serves the vital function of regulating acoustics: audibility is clearly imperative in a courtroom. The interplay of light on the surface and the textured pattern is sumptuous and alluring. There is an echo of ancient Rome here: according to the architects, the oculus of the Pantheon and the coffered dome of Borromini’s Baroque San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane were both inspirations for the design of the courtrooms.

190

191

192

193

194

SITE PLAN

1:3,000

195

SECTION A SECTION B

1:400

196

A B

A

B

GROUND FLOOR

197

1ST FLOOR

1:400

198

2ND FLOOR

199

BEARTH & DEPLAZES

Completely sheathed in slender bands of shim-

MONTE ROSA HUT

mering silver aluminum, the structure is like a

ZERMATT

mountain crystal, as crisp and pristine as the sheer,

2005 – 2009

snow-capped peaks rising around it. The shape of the multi-faceted volume was generated partly by

The area southeast of Zermatt has one of the most

optimizing the orientation and angle of inclination

spectacular landscapes in Switzerland. One of

for the array of photovoltaic panels—the building’s

the classic alpine walks is the hike up to the Gorner-

generator of electricity. Not only does the poly-

grat, a hard, three-hour trek by foot to the site of

gonal form create unusually shaped spaces, it also

Monte Rosa Hut. Stretched between the Gornergrat

optimizes the facade surface area.

and the Matterhorn is the second largest glacial

The primary structure consists of a radiating,

system in the Alps and this high-altitude landscape

star-shaped steel platform on concrete pile

is a kind of Heilige Welt, or sacred world of rock,

foundations, which supports the prefabricated light-

glacier, snow, mountain, sky, where the experience of

weight timber structure above. Entry to the hut

nature is an exhilarating experience. To dare to

is through a subterranean level that ascends via

build in such an awe-inspiring landscape might seem

a timber stair to the communal spaces on the ground

like a violation; with the opportunity to realize

level. A slender ribbon window encircles the space

a mountain hut came a responsibility to build with

and affords magnificent panoramic views of the

great sensitivity.

surrounding mountain peaks. Above, on three levels,

In celebration of the 150th anniversary the

trapezoidal-shaped bunkrooms—accommodating

ETH (Swiss Federal Institute of Technology) and the

a total of 120 beds—fan out from the central

SAC (Swiss Alpine Club) joined forces under the

landing. Inside, the hut is clad in honey-colored wood

leadership of the architect Andrea Deplazes to mark

creating a warm, intimate atmosphere and an im-

the university’s bicentenary by replacing the

pression of shelter and protection from the harsh

old SAC hut with a new, modern building. Clearly,

elements on the high Alps.

constructing a building at an altitude of almost 3,000

The clever combination of high-tech and low-

meters posed immense logistical and technical

tech has elevated the tradition of alpine huts to new

challenges with neither road access, electricity, nor

heights of sustainability and design. Bearth &

water. All the building material had to be flown to

Deplazes display a sensitivity for the tectonic nature

the site by helicopter, restricting the weight of each

of built form and for its ability to transform the

element to a maximum of 600 kilograms. Site

remote, craggy site. The design team has managed

work was also limited to snow-free summer months,

to harness the Ort der Kraft (force of the place)

so the schedule had to be strictly planned. A hut

in their topographic building, with the sheer drama

in such an inaccessible site has to be as self-sufficient

of the landscape reflected in the spectacular, crys-

as possible and has to be able to generate as much

talline architecture.

of its own energy as possible. Therefore, water is collected in a cavern and channeled to the hut which, thanks to wastewater treatment, can be reused multiple times. Thermal collectors beneath the building warm the water, while a photovoltaic array provides electricity. The project was seen as an experimental laboratory to see how a building in a remote, inaccessible place high in the Alps can be self-sufficient and sustainable. Initially the building created 90% of its energy requirements, but as visitor numbers far exceeded the original estimates, upgrades and contingency plans have had to be made to accommodate the high volume of mountaineers.

200

201

202

203

204

3RD FLOOR 1ST FLOOR

1:200

205

SECTION

1:200

206

GROUND FLOOR

207

:MLZD

To achieve good architecture, the architect should have passion, curiosity, and perseverance. :mlzd

209

This building is differentiated from the traditional

:MLZD EXTENSION OF THE HISTORY MUSEUM

notion of a building with four vertical walls and

BERN

a roof. The volume stands like a concrete crystal with

2006 – 2009

the rear consisting of five inclined, triangular planes and a front face that, in contrast, is cut vertical, as

:mlzd’s extension of the Bernese History Museum is

if a stone had been sliced in two to reveal its smooth,

an excellent example of an extension of a historic

glazed inner core. Captivatingly, the tower as

building that is neither subservient nor dominant, but

seen from the north evaporates optically: the highly

succeeds in creating its own independent standing

reflective glass mirrors the old museum Schloss so

and enhances the existing fabric. The addition hides

that the tower, itself, disappears. The facade has been

modestly behind the original museum, which has

detailed to clip directly onto the concrete crystal

a prominent position at the head of Kirchenfeld Bridge

form. It is this mirroring effect and lack of frame that

linking Bern Altstadt to Helvetiaplatz across the

heighten the effect of dematerialization.

Aare River. Approaching the building, one has no

Similar to Herzog & de Meuron’s “Art Space” in

inkling that behind the romantic nineteenth-century

Tenerife, the concrete planes have been incised

historicism lies a highly contemporary piece of

with overscaled pixels that are randomly embossed

architecture.

onto the surface. In some instances the “pixels”

The new volume forms a provocative counterpoint

are shallow, in others deeply imprinted, and elsewhere

to the eclectic old building by André Lambert that

cut completely through the thirty-five-centimeter-

dates back to 1894. The design by Biel-based :mlzd

thick concrete shell to allow spots of sunlight into the

architects is intelligent—a large proportion of

offices. The OSB (oriented strand board) formwork

the newly acquired spaces are submerged beneath

and the yellow tinted concrete mix imbue the surfaces

the terrain gaining a substantial 1,000-square-meter,

with a finely varied patina and texture. The yellow/

windowless exhibition hall, not visible from the

gray color of the concrete is perfectly attuned to

exterior. The hall—an expansive black void—is the

the plasterwork patina of Lambert’s historic building.

antithesis of the prominent, light-colored volume

Together with the brilliant mirror reflection, this

above. Within this column-free void the curators can

reference creates a fascinating interplay and dialogue

assemble and reassemble exhibitions, like erasing

between old and new. :mlzd’s extension radiates

the markings on a blackboard and then redrawing

a new energy to the museum precinct and creates a

them anew. Beneath the hall, 3,200 square meters of

modern, twenty-first century landmark for Switzer-

storage space is stacked in two layers. The only

land’s capital city.

visible facade is the “fifth” facade: the roof of the hall, which is a raised terrace. Although there is a lack of human activity on the terrace, it nevertheless plays an important role as it gives the new and old sections their own domain and spatial integrity. The southern side of the site is bordered by the “Titan Tower.” :mlzd have made a contemporary interpretation of a looming castle tower, which is the architectural exclamation mark of the project. Eminent Bernese engineers, Tschopp Engineers played a critical role in solving the challenging details and structural scheme of the faceted, crystalline turret. Interestingly, the tower is not part of the museum, but accommodates offices, library, and reading room of the State Archives.

The sequence of the three different outdoor spaces— “garden,” “square,” and “stairway”—ensures that the new structure dovetails with the pre-existing ensemble and blends into its urban environment. :mlzd

210

211

212

213

214

A

B

A

B

ENTRY FLOOR

1:700

215

SECTION A SECTION B

1:700

216

3RD FLOOR 2ND FLOOR 1ST FLOOR EXHIBITION FLOOR

217

STUDIO VACCHINI

Architecture in Switzerland and in the world today is increasingly a matter of form. What our work tries to propose instead is the development of technology, not in the service of style or form, but rather of human society. Eloisa Vacchini

219

STUDIO VACCHINI SPORTS CENTER MÜLIMATT WINDISCH 2010

In a country that takes its sports seriously and where the winters are long and cold, indoor sports facilities are essential for year-round training. The challenge faced by Locarno-based Studio Vacchini was to create a sports hall for the University of Applied Sciences Northwestern Switzerland FHNW without structural inner walls or column supports. Together with engineers, Fürst Laffranchi, Studio Vacchini managed to push the boundaries of technology with their fifty-five-meter-wide, support-free gymnasium. Situated between the Aare River and the railway line, the sports center is an easy five-minute walk from Brugg railway station. It is the elaborate concrete surfaces that immediately strike one. The interior houses two large sports halls with tribunes and service spaces. The delicate concrete structure has been designed with the clarity and precision of a Swiss watch. Like a giant accordion, the slender concrete pulls open to create a dynamic zigzag rhythm of solid and glazed peaks and troughs. It is not only the strength of the design, but also the absolute precision and delicacy of the concrete work that is outstanding. Typically sports halls are colorful spaces, but here Vacchini has continued the muted gray color palette of the exterior facades inside the gymnasium halls, creating a calm, cool atmosphere. It is the sportsmen and women who bring color and movement into the light-filled spaces. The slight incline of the terrain results in a portion of the lower level being subterranean. Service areas, like changing rooms and showers, are neatly tucked away. Access stairs to the lower level in the center of the eighty-meter structure divide the hall into two generous spaces, each with three basketball courts. This self-supporting structure without inner structural walls is a feat of modern engineering. Studio Vacchini has clearly combined intellectual rigor with technical know-how. Not only did the architects achieve their ambitious goal, but they also managed to create a masterful piece of architecture that, like a folded origami sculpture, is both delicate and strong.

The technique and technology enable man to rise to higher limits, to make the construction of spaces more precise and more exciting. Studio Vacchini

220

221

222

223

224

SITE PLAN

1:2,500

225

B

A

B

A

1ST FLOOR GROUND FLOOR

1:1,000

226

SECTION A SECTION B

1:500

227

EM2N

We approach the permanent state of crisis of our built environment, neither with irony nor drama, but rather with a cold look at what is. EM2N

229

EM2N SWISS RAILWAYS SERVICE FACILITY ZURICH 2013

The extensive train network in Switzerland is widely known for its efficiency and punctuality. As the country is so compact, it is feasible to live in one city and commute to another. It is not uncommon to forgo owning a car, as the public transport system is sophisticated and wide ranging, so that even the most remote valleys and mountain villages can be reached by rail, bus, or cable car. The reliability of the rail network has meant ever-increasing numbers of rail passengers, with trains having to increase in length to accommodate greater numbers. The new four-hundred-meter rail facility in Zurich caters for these excessively long trains. As the site was predetermined and the structure predefined by engineers, the assignment for the architects had design limitations. Their sole task was to create an envelope to wrap the southern facade. Using five-meter elements that widen and narrow in interlocking waves, the architects have expressed the facade in three dimensions. It might appear like a large, inflatable structure, but the curtain-wall of the facade is made with glass-fiber reinforced concrete. By omitting individual concrete elements, long, horizontal fissures are created allowing light and views into the interior workshop areas. The curvature profile of the concrete units decreases in the lower section of the facades to allow access for fire engines. The slow, undulating lines are an apt articulation for a rail service building and reflect the linear dynamic of the fast-moving trains along the tracks. As a preventive measure, the surfaces were treated with a hydrophobic membrane to protect them from graffiti. The exit and entry on the short facades are completely glazed from floor to ceiling and are recessed, creating the impression of continuity, as if it were merely a section of a building that could be extended indefinitely. Within the constraints of a tight budget, EM2N were able to design a distinctive building that enhances the area along the railway tracks. What might have been an industrial wasteland has instead been transformed into an artistically expressive site.

Through its central position next to the rapidly developing new neighborhood of Zurich-West and by virtue of its sheer size, the new building acquires great urban significance. It shapes the edge of the city towards the railway tracks and welcomes visitors entering the city by train, signaling that they are arriving in Zurich’s city center. EM2N

230

231

232

233

234

B

B

A

GROUND FLOOR

1:1,500

235

SOUTH ELEVATION SECTION A

1:1,500

236

SECTION B

1:500

237

CONDITIONS OF PRACTICE Jean-Paul Jaccaud

238

The prevailing winds of global contemporary practice are blowing architects towards the increasingly marginal position of providing a je ne sais quoi of veneer over a construction process that they no longer control or even fully understand. If these winds do blow through the alpine landscapes of Switzerland, they have not yet had the same devastating effects as in other countries where the voice of the architect has become difficult to hear over the clatter of indifferent clients, large design teams, standardized industrial solutions, and economic constraints. Swiss architects, seen within the main global trends of the profession, enjoy conditions of practice somewhere between a dream come true and a fragile anachronism. It would be a mistake to idealize Swiss architectural production; there are an incalculable number of dreadful buildings being erected every year. Though somehow a high level of control has been maintained over the process of design and construction, enabling the production of an architecture that maintains its coherence from the urban scale through to the fine detail. How exactly this has come about is a complex question that cannot easily be answered. I believe, however, that certain key aspects have played an important role in establishing the strong architectural culture that the country enjoys and I would like to attempt an informal exploration of what some of these aspects might be. Swiss architects’ responsibilities cover many different aspects of the construction process that, in other countries, would be left to other professions. They are not only responsible for the design of their projects, they must also ensure their cost estimate and control, the coordination of the design team, and the management of the construction site. If this breadth of competences and know-how ensures a unique level of control, the most important specificities, in my view, lie in the control of the construction site process and the costs. If main contractors abound in Switzerland, there is still a very strong presence of specialized trades whose know-how is ensured by a well-established apprenticeship system. Projects are still mostly allocated to different specialist contractors whose work is coordinated on site by the architect. This role, one of a main contractor in other countries, enables the architect to keep an extremely tight control over every aspect of the construction process and ensures that little is lost in translation between drawings and their implementation. The control of costs, from the initial estimate through to the detailed quantities and unit prices on site enables, in tandem with the site management, a clear understanding of what is being bought, where the money is spent, and what is being cut if savings are required. Several factors have contributed to this privileged position: principally a framework of historically rooted associations defending the interests of the profession and an education system that encourages a detailed understanding of the construction process. Professional associations have played a significant historical role in Swiss architectural culture. The two principal bodies, the Swiss Society of Engineers and Architects (SIA) and the Federation of Swiss Architects (BSA-FAS) were founded respectively in 1837 and 1908 and have been continuously active in defending different aspects of the profession. If the SIA encompasses a broader professional scope of engineering and architecture, the BSAFAS solely defends the interests of architects and both bodies frequently work in tandem. The work of the professional associations has been crucial in ensuring a clear definition and understanding of the architect’s role, as well as contractual and financial conditions that enable a high quality of work to be carried out. While this might sound obvious, it is far from being the case in most countries and rarely is the role, scope of works, and fee structure so clearly established. The framework provided enables Swiss architects to provide a great deal of clarity when discussing a commission with their clients and expectations can therefore be clearly understood. Architectural competitions play a major role in Swiss architectural culture and the professional associations have historically defended them from the start for their organization, their supervision, and for maintaining independent professional juries.

239

The 1980s and 1990s saw profound changes in the economic, cultural, and technical aspects of the profession and their effects on urbanism and architecture were the subject of heated debate. This led to the establishment, in 1996, of the inter-cantonal laws for the tender of public projects, which ensure that all public projects are systematically subject to anonymous, project-based competitions with independent professional juries. This not only provides a basis for a strong architectural culture, but also ensures that less established practices have access to commissions on the sole basis of the quality of their work. The fluidity of this system keeps everyone within the profession on their toes and ensures that cronyism and backhand commissions are absent from the landscape of public commissions. Younger practices benefit immensely from this system that provides constant fresh propositions and ensures debate, discussion, and the permanent questioning of established ideas. It is interesting to see that most of the leading practices working in Switzerland today were established through the competition system and that their work continues to evolve through the constant pressure of a highly competitive environment. Most of the younger practices that would benefit from the competition system have been formed in Switzerland and there is an almost uncanny level of continuity between the educative institutions and the profession. Adolf Loos famously described the architect as a stonemason who has learned Latin, while Swiss schools continue to favor masonry as a vital ingredient of the curriculum. The Anglo-Saxon culture, among others, puts a strong emphasis on Latin during the formative years, anticipating that the masonry will be learnt through practice after graduation. Young architects are, in this case, carrying out an informal master’s degree in the practices where they choose to work and the education system has largely outsourced the nuts and bolts aspects to the professional world. The Swiss architectural education rests on three different pillars. The two Federal Institutes of Technology, in Zurich and Lausanne, the HES-SO technical schools, and apprenticeships. If the first two essentially concern future architectural practitioners, the latter provides an education to both architects and specialist contractors who will play an essential role in the construction process. In all instances students are exposed to the multidisciplinary aspects of architecture and are brought in close contact with engineers and construction methods to ensure that their skills will enable them to inscribe their future work within a clearly defined system. This approach has led to a specific grammar of the architectural culture with construction as its bedrock and a common tectonic ground. Practice and education intertwine in many instances and feed off each other, making student end-of-year shows a synthesis of current positions within the professional debate and competition entries often influenced by student investigations. Apart from a short period of dismay following May 1968, particularly in the French-speaking part of the country, where social studies became preponderant, the Swiss architectural education has always been based on the Beaux-Arts notion of the studio, l’ate­ lier, where projects are produced in conditions close to that of practice. This leads to an understanding of the methods of professional practice and generally steers clear of abstract theoretical ground. Part of the curriculum of the architectural training also involves a year-out of work experience within architectural practices. The students who have worked in a practice frequently return after their graduation as full architects, and diploma projects inevitably reveal where students have spent their year out by the mimetic nature of the work presented.

240

The strength of the professional associations, the high levels of control on the project development, and construction, the common ground of construction as a basis for architectural expression, the competition system, and a solid educational backing, all these factors unite to give architectural practice a strong foundation on which to develop. Switzerland is a small country but an extraordinarily diverse one culturally, linguistically, and topographically. The foundations laid for conditions of practice enable very different expressions to emerge confidently from this diversity and one would be hard pressed to find a constant in contemporary Swiss architectural culture. The architectural freedom that the conditions of practice give is liberating for the profession, allowing extremely different forms of expression to emerge without the insecurity of having to conform to a dogma to establish one’s identity. Many attempts have been made to pigeonhole Swiss architecture as a coherent whole, the “Swiss box” of the late 1990s being the most publicized. I do not find this approach interesting or helpful to understand the current architectural culture. It is in my view more through conditions of practice that Swiss architecture finds its specificity, and the different formal proposals that can emerge from them are only a manifestation of the healthy foundations on which these complex and shifting constructions are based.

241

BIOGRAPHIES Anna Roos Anna Roos studied architecture at the University of Cape Town and obtained a postgraduate degree at the Bartlett School of Architecture at UCL, London under the professorship of Niall McLaughlin. Moving to Bern, Switzerland in 2000, she worked as an architect, designing projects in South Africa, Australia, and Scotland. She has been working as a freelance architectural journalist since 2007 and writes for c3, A10, Ensuite Kultur Magazin, Monocle magazine, and Swisspearl Architecture maga­ zine. She also copyedits books for numerous publishing houses in Germany and Switzerland including: Lars Müller Publishers, Birkhäuser Verlag, DOM, Gestalten, DETAIL Green, and Prestel Publishers. Anna seeks to convey her passion for architecture in her writing about the discipline. R. James Breiding R. James Breiding is author of Swiss Made—The Untold Story Behind Switzerland’s Success. Available in seven languages, the book has become the most authoritative work on “Swissness.” His articles on Swiss issues appear in The Economist, Finan­ cial Times, Foreign Affairs, the New York Times, and the Wall Street Journal. He was elected a fellow at Harvard’s Center for International Development, and is the founder and owner of Naissance Capital, a Zurich-based investment firm. Jean-Paul Jaccaud Jean-Paul Jaccaud was born in Hong Kong in 1971. He studied architecture at the Federal Institute of Technology in Lausanne (EPFL) where he graduated in 1995. Jaccaud collaborated with Bernard Huet, David Chipperfield, and Herzog & de Meuron before opening his own practice, Jean-Paul Jaccaud Architects in Geneva, in 2004. In 2011, in partnership with Tanya Zein, he founded Jaccaud Zein Architects in London. In 2014 Lionel Spicher became a full partner of the Geneva practice which was subsequently renamed Jaccaud Spicher Associated Architects. Jaccaud has been visiting professor at the Federal Institute of Technology in Lausanne (EPFL) and at the Université Catholique de Louvain (UCL) in Belgium and has been a visiting critic at numerous architecture schools in Europe, the USA, and the Middle East. Irina Davidovici Architect and academic Irina Davidovici is the author of Forms of Practice. German­Swiss Architecture 1980–2000 (gta Verlag, 2012). Born in Bucharest and based in Zurich and London, she draws in her writings on multilayered professional and cultural experiences, bridging the practice, teaching, and critical interpretation of architecture. Currently she is engaged in post-doctoral research and Habilitation project at the gta Chair for the History of Urban Design, ETH Zurich, studying the autonomy and integration of high-density housing estates in the European city. Niall McLaughlin Niall McLaughlin was born in Geneva in 1962. He was educated in Dublin and received his architectural qualifications from University College Dublin in 1984. He worked for Scott Tallon Walker in Dublin and London between 1984 and 1989. He established his own practice in London in 1990. Niall McLaughlin Architects makes high quality modern buildings with a special emphasis on materials and detail. McLaughlin won Young British Architect of the Year in 1998, he was one of the BBC Rising Stars in 2001, and his work represented Britain in a US exhibition Gritty Brits at the Carnegie Mellon Museum. His designs have won many awards in the UK, Ireland, and the USA, including RIAI Best Building in the Landscape and the RIBA Stephen Lawrence Award for the Best Building under £1million and was on the RIBA Stirling Shortlist 2013 and 2015. McLaughlin is a professor of architecture at University College London as well as a visiting professor at the University of California Los Angeles from 2012 to 2013 and appointed Lord Norman Foster Visiting Professor of Architecture, Yale for 2014–2015. He was chair of the RIBA Awards Group from 2007 to 2009. He lives in London with his wife Mary, son Diarmaid, and daughter Iseult.

Bearth & Deplazes Valentin Bearth (1957) studied at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH) and received his degree in 1983 under Prof. Dolf Schnebli. Between 1984 and 1988 he was employed at Atelier Peter Zumthor. In 1988, Bearth established an office with Andrea Deplazes. Since 2000, Bearth has been a design professor at the Accademia di Architettura of the Università della Svizzera Italiana in Mendrisio and between 2007 and 2011 Bearth was the director of the school. Andrea Deplazes (1960) studied at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH) and received his degree in 1988 under Prof. Fabio Reinhardt. In 1988, Deplazes established an office with Valentin Bearth. Since 1997 he has been professor for architecture and construction at the Department of Architecture at the ETH in Zurich and between 2005 and 2007 was the head of the Department of Architecture at the ETH. Daniel Ladner (1959) did an apprenticeship as a mason and was trained as a draftsman specializing in structural engineering. In 1988 Ladner graduated from the Abendtechnikum HTL in Chur. Between 1989 and 1994 Ladner was employed at Bearth & Deplazes and from 1995 to 2000 was a partner there. Since 2001, Landner shares the office with Bearth & Deplazes. During the past two decades, the office has been awarded numerous prizes, including, in 1999, the 6th Mies van der Rohe Award, an international award for European architecture; in 2008, the Balthasar Neumann Prize and the Holcim Bronze Award Europe for Monte-Rosa Hut; and in 2010 the Swiss Solar Prize for their winery Gantenbein. Buchner Bründler Buchner Bründler was founded by Daniel Buchner and Andreas Bründler in Basel in 1997. The firm is composed of a team of about thirty architects, interior designers, and designers. Activities include urban planning and development, realization of public buildings, residential, and service buildings, as well as interior design in Switzerland and abroad. Context and space play a central role in their work, which is characterized by a continuous study of and experimentation with form, light, materiality, and color. Their projects are designed taking into account the specific location and concepts involved. Realization follows intensive discourse with the clients and future users. The firm is also renowned for their work in a larger urban development context. Projects outside Switzerland are an increasing source of work for the firm. The renovation of the GA-200 rooms in the UN headquarters in New York was completed in 2003, and subsequently presented to the UN as a gift from Switzerland. After successful completion of a pavilion in the Jinhua Architecture Park in China, the Swiss pavilion at the Shanghai World Expo was completed in 2010. Projects designed and executed by Buchner Bründler have been awarded numerous prizes and published in national and international architecture journals. In 2003, the firm received one of the most important Swiss cultural awards, the Swiss Art Award in Architecture and, in 2013, the Beton 13 prize for Casa d’Estate Linescio and Bläsiring House. The architects have devoted themselves to teaching and research and give lectures in Switzerland and abroad on a regular basis. They taught at the EPF Lausanne from 2007 to 2009 and have been active as design lecturers at the ETH Zurich since 2010. Gion A. Caminada Gion A. Caminada works as an architect in Vrin, Graubünden. After his apprenticeship as a carpenter, he attended the School of Applied Art in Zurich. Subsequently, he completed his postgraduate degree in architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH). Since 2008, Caminada has also been professor of architecture at the ETH in Zurich. Jürg Conzett Citizen of Schiers (Graubünden), Jürg Conzett (1956) studied civil engineering at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH) in Lausanne and Zurich and received his diploma in 1980. From 1981 until 1988 he worked as an employee of architect Peter Zumthor in Haldenstein. After this architectural experience he decided to start working as an independent consultant structural engineer. Today he heads an engineer’s office of about 25 people together with his partners Gianfranco Bronzini and Patrick Gartmann in Chur. Their main activities are designing structures for buildings together with architects, as well as working on projects for bridges and bridge repairs. Conzett taught structures at the Fachhochschule Chur for about 20 years. In 2011, he had a three-month tenure teaching at the Graduate School of Design at Harvard University.

Diener & Diener The architecture office Marcus Diener Architect (founded in 1942), changed its name to Diener & Diener in 1980. Today Diener & Diener has offices in Basel and Berlin. Along with its subsidiary in Berlin, the Basel office has been headed by Roger Diener, together with Terese Erngaard, Andreas Rüedi, and Michael Roth who have been partners since 2011. Originally focusing on residential projects, the firm now also systematically develops urban-planning projects, as well as projects for the renovation and extension of historic buildings. The basis of their designs is a perception of the European city in all its variety and continuity. During the past 15 years, several projects have been developed on the basis of a consistent cooperation with artists—for instance the Novartis Headquarters in Basel with Helmut Federle. Recent projects include the reconstruction of the east wing of the Museum of Natural History at Humboldt University, Berlin, and the Mémorial de la Shoah in Drancy, Paris. In 1976, the Basel architect Roger Diener (1950) graduated from the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH) and joined the firm Marcus Diener Architect, the practice his father had founded in Basel in 1942. He was made partner in 1980. In 1987–1989 Roger Diener was a professor at the École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne (EPFL). He has been a professor at the ETH, the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (Studio Basel) since 1999. The Académie d’Architecture in Paris honored his work with the Grande Médaille d’Or in 2002. He was awarded the Prix Meret Oppenheim in 2009. In 2011 Diener was awarded the Heinrich Tessenow Gold Medal. EM2N Mathias Müller (1966) and Daniel Niggli (1970) studied architecture together at the ETH in Zurich. Their office, EM2N, was established in Zurich in 1997 and is currently based in Zurich and Berlin. With their 75 employees, they work on construction and competition projects in Switzerland and abroad. In addition to numerous other prizes, including the price Regards­Sguardi, EM2N received the Swiss Art Prize for Architecture in 2004. Müller and Niggli have been guest professors at the ETH Lausanne and the ETH Zurich and are also members of the Building Councils of Berlin and Zurich. Andreas Fuhrimann Gabrielle Hächler Gabrielle Hächler (1958) studied art history at Zurich University and architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH), receiving her degree in 1988. Hächler was employed for four years as assistant lecturer in the Department of Construction at the ETH Zurich. She established her own architectural office in 1988 and, since 1995, has been in partnership with Andreas Fuhrimann. Between 2009 and 2011 she was visiting professor at the ETH Zurich and, from 2012 to 2014, professor at UdK Berlin. Andreas Fuhrimann (1956) studied physics and architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH), receiving his architecture degree in 1985. After a year in the architectural office Marbach + Rüegg, Fuhrimann collaborated with Christian Karrer from 1987. In 1988 he lectured interior architecture at the School of Design and Crafts. He established an office with Gabrielle Hächler in 1995. Between 2009 and 2011 Fuhrimann was visiting professor at the ETH Zurich and, from 2012 to 2014, professor at UdK Berlin. Carlo Fumarola (1978) studied architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH), receiving his architecture degree in 2005. Since 2005, Fumarola has been employed at Andreas Fuhrimann Gabrielle Hächler. Between 2009 and 2011 he was assistant lecturer at the ETH and since 2012 has been a partner at Andreas Fuhrimann Gabrielle Hächler. Gilbert Isermann (1978) studied architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich (ETH), receiving his architecture degree in 2004. From 2004 to 2007 Isermann was employed at Gigon Guyer Architekten and since 2007 he has been employed at Andreas Fuhrimann Gabrielle Hächler, becoming a partner in 2012.

Herzog & de Meuron Herzog & de Meuron is a partnership led by Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron together with three senior partners: Christine Binswanger, Ascan Mergenthaler, and Stefan Marbach. Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron established their office in Basel in 1978. The partnership has grown over the years— Christine Binswanger joined the practice as partner in 1994, followed by Robert Hösl and Ascan Mergenthaler in 2004, Stefan Marbach in 2006, Esther Zumsteg in 2009, Andreas Fries in 2011, Jason Frantzen and Wim Walschap in 2014, and Michael Fischer in 2016. An international team of about 40 associates and 380 collaborators is working on projects across Europe, the Americas, and Asia. The firm’s main office is in Basel with additional offices in Hamburg, London, New York City, and Hong Kong. Herzog & de Meuron has designed a wide range of projects from the small scale of a private home to the large scale of urban design. While many of their projects are highly recognized public facilities, such as their stadiums and museums, they have also completed several distinguished private projects including apartment buildings, offices, and factories. The practice has been awarded numerous prizes including The Pritzker Architecture Prize (USA) in 2001, the RIBA Royal Gold Medal (UK) and the Praemium Imperiale (Japan), both in 2007. In 2014, Herzog & de Meuron were awarded the Mies Crown Hall Americas Prize (MCHAP). Miller & Maranta Quintus Miller (1961) studied architecture at the ETH Zurich; receiving his degree in 1987. From 1990 to 1994 Miller was design assistant at the EPF Lausanne and at the ETH Zurich. In 1994, he established his own office in Basel, Miller & Maranta, with Paola Maranta. From 2000 to 2001, Miller was visiting professor at EPF Lausanne and from 2007 to 2008 he was guest professor at the Accademia di Architettura of the Università della Svizzera Italiana in Mendrisio. From 2008 to 2010 he was visiting professor at the ETH Zurich. Since 2009, Miller has been full professor for architecture at the Accademia di Architettura of the Università della Svizzera Italiana in Mendrisio. From 2004 to 2008, Miller was a member of the commission for urban planning and architecture of Lucerne, as well as on the commission for visual arts in Riehen. Since 2005, Miller has been active in the commission for historic preservation of the cities Zurich and Basel. Paola Maranta (1959) studied architecture at the EPF Lausanne and at the ETH Zurich graduating in 1986. In 1990, Maranta completed a Master of Business Administration at the IMD in Lausanne. From 1991 to 1994 she was a management consultant in Zurich and in 2000 to 2001 visiting professor at EPF Lausanne. In 1994, she established Miller & Maranta with Quintus Miller in Basel. From 2007 to 2008 she was visiting professor at the Accademia di Architettura of the Università della Svizzera Italiana, Mendrisio and from 2008 to 2010 she was guest professor at the ETH Zurich. From 2001 to 2005 Maranta was a member of the commission for urban planning and architecture Basel and since 2003 she has been a member of the city commission in Riehen near Basel. Jean-Luc von Aarburg (1975) studied architecture at the EPF Lausanne, the TU Delft, and the ETH Zurich. Since his graduation in 2001, von Aarburg has been collaborating with Miller & Maranta. In 2013 he became a partner at Miller & Maranta. Von Aarburg was guest professor at the ETH Zurich in 2010. :mlzd Partners: Claude Marbach, Pat Tanner, Daniele Di Giacinto, David Locher, Andreas Frank. :mlzd was established in Biel/Bienne in 1997. It is the workplace of a versatile team of architects, who have to date won more than 30 first prizes in international competitions and have more than 40 completed building projects to their name. The work of the practice covers a broad spectrum. Its most important projects include the renovation of the presidential anterooms to the United Nations General Assembly Hall in New York (2004), as well as extensions to the History Museum in Bern (2009) and the Local-Heritage Museum in Rapperswil (2011). :mlzd currently has 30 employees, whose internal discussions give rise to vastly varied projects. One characteristic that all the projects have in common, however, is the self-assured and highly respectful attitude towards the architectural setting and their love of detail.

Nickisch Walder Selina Walder studied her diploma at the Accademia di Architettura Mendrisio under Valerio Olgiati in 2004. From 2004 to 2006 she taught as an assistant at his chair for architectural design. Since 2004, she has been working independently in her own office in Flims—since 2005 with Georg Nickisch. In 2009/ 2010 Walder curated the exhibition “DADO—Built and Inhabited by Rudolf Olgiati and Valerio Olgiati.” Georg Nickisch studied at the Prince of Wales Institute of Architecture (UK), the University of Bath (UK) and studied his degree in architecture at the Accademia di Architettura Mendrisio under Peter Zumthor in 2005. Between 2007 and 2013, he taught as an assistant at the chair of Jonathan Sergison (Sergison Bates Architects). In 2008 Selina Walder and Georg Nickisch won the competition for the new auditorium building at the Plantahof Landquart in collaboration with Valerio Olgiati. In 2010 they won the first prize in a competition for an apartment building and the refurbishment of a heritage-protected farmhouse in Davos. In the same year they won a private competition for a villa situated in Thurgau. In 2011, Nickisch Walder was awarded the second prize in an open competition for the chancellery of the Swiss embassy in Nairobi. Valerio Olgiati Valerio Olgiati (1958) studied architecture at the ETH Zurich. Having lived and worked first in Zurich and later in Los Angeles for some years, he opened his own practice in Zurich in 1996 and then, in 2008, together with his wife, Tamara, in Flims. Olgiati initially received international attention in 1999 with his museum project, The Yellow House in Flims, Switzerland. He created an icon with his 2008 competition-winning entry for the Museum of Contemporary Art in Perm, Russia. Olgiati’s most important buildings include the schoolhouse in Paspels, the museum The Yellow House in Flims, the House for a Musician in Scharans, the residential complex Schleife in Zug, and Villa Além in Alentejo. Major projects in planning are the winery for Carnasciale in Italy, the high-rise building San Felipe in Lima, a house for a priest in Bavaria, and a building for the headquarters of Baloise insurance company in Basel. There are numerous monographs about his oeuvre. A major solo exhibition of his work took place 2012 at MoMa Tokyo. Among other academic engagements he led the Kenzo Tange Chair at Harvard University in 2009. Since 2002, Olgiati has been a full Professor at the Accademia di Architettura Mendrisio at the Università della Svizzera Italiana. Savioz Fabrizzi Savioz Fabrizzi was founded in 2004 by architects Laurent Savioz (1976) and Claude Fabrizzi (1975). The office provides all architectural services from design through to realization. Their approach is based on the analysis of a site in its natural or built state to identify the essential elements to enhance or preserve it. In this way they believe they can strengthen the cultural role of architecture based on the analysis of function, program, place in history, and the culture of a region. Studio Vacchini Eloisa Vacchini is associate architect at Studio Vacchini. She received her architecture degree from Swiss Federal Institute of Technology, Lausanne in 1997. Employed at various architectural practices in Sydney, Australia (1994–1995). Worked at Daniel D’Andrea Architects in Buenos Aires, Argentina (1998–1999). Here Vacchini focused on a commission to refurbish buildings in Havana at the invitation of the Cuban government. Between 1999 and 2007, Vacchini was employed at the Studio di architettura Livio Vacchini based in Locarno. In April 2007, she became an associate architect at Studio Vacchini. Peter Zumthor Peter Zumthor was born in Basel in 1943 and grew up in Oberwil, Baselland. Between 1958 and 1962 he trained as cabinetmaker at the workshop of his father, Oscar Zumthor. From 1963 to 1967 he studied design and architecture at the Kunstgewerbeschule Basel, as well as at the Pratt Institute, New York. From 1967, Zumthor was employed as building and planning consultant and documenter of historical villages with the Department for the Preservation of Monuments, Canton of Graubünden in Switzerland. In addition he realized various renovations. In 1978, Zumthor established his own architectural practice in Haldenstein, Switzerland. He was visiting professor at Southern California Institute of Architecture, SCI-Arc, Los Angeles (1988); at the Technische Universität Munich (1989) and at the Graduate School of Design, Harvard University (1999). Between 1996 and 2008 Zumthor was professor at the Accademia di Architettura, Università della Svizzera Italiana, Mendrisio. Selection of Zumthor’s many awards: Mies van der Rohe Award for European Architecture, Barcelona (1998); Prix Meret Oppenheim, Switzerland (2006); Praemium Imperiale, Japan Art Association (2008); The Pritzker Architecture Prize, The Hyatt Foundation (2009); RIBA Royal Gold Medal, Royal Institute of British Architects (2013); Nike, Architecture Prize, Bund Deutscher Architekten BDA (2013)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Many thanks for the support and encouragement of: Peter Zumthor, Ralf Daab, Alexander Felix, Katharina Kulke, Res Eichenberger, Adriano Biondo, Andri Pol, Sylwia Chomentowska, Olga Funk, Quintus Miller, Jørg Himmelreich, Jean-Paul Jaccaud, Irina Davidovici, Niall McLaughlin, James Breiding, Gaudenz Danuser, Wilfried Dechau, Matthieu Gafsou, Michael Hanak, Hugo Bütler, Elena Pascolo, Stephen Gelb, David Best, Melanie Best, Magriet Cruywagen, Ernst Steinmann, Mascia Buzzolini, Bruno Tobler (Foto Vision), Marianne Gauer, Peter Dömötör, Petra Küchler, Nicky Boustred, Tkalcec Hrvoje, and especially to Louise and Conal Gain for their help and support with copyediting and to my husband, Hendrik, who has shared this long journey with me. Finally, thank you also to all the architects and photographers whose valuable contribution made this publication possible.

PHOTO CREDITS Tonatiuh Ambrosetti 191–194, 201–204 Adriano Biondo 5, 25, 53, 121, 219 Iwan Baan 61, 64 (top) Hélène Binet 123, 132 Markus Bühler-Rasom 62, 63, 64 (bottom) Gaudenz Danuser 81, 83–88, 91– 93, 94 (bottom) Wilfried Dechau 113, 115, 116 Lucia Degonda 105 –109 Federal Office of Topography swisstopo front endpaper Ralph Feiner 94 (top), 209 Leonardo Finotti 55, 56 Roger Frei 231, 232, 233, 234 (top) Matthieu Gafsou 1, 247 Alexander Gempeler 211– 214 Christian Grund 143 Maurice Haas 189, 229 Thomas Jantscher 45–149, 153–158 Valentin Jeck 163 –166 Alexandre Kapellos 221 Antonio Martinelli 130, 131 Simon Menges 234 (bottom) Giuseppe Micciché 27, 28, 30, 42– 44 Archive Olgiati 173–175, 180 –182 Andri Pol 99, 161 Stephan Rappo 171 Christian Richters 73–76 Hendrik Roos 124, 125, 129 René Rötheli 222, 223, 224 Ruedi Walti 7–12, 17–20, 29, 33–36, 41 Dominique Marc Wehrli 179 Swiss map and all architectural plans orientated with North point vertically up.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Angélil, Marc, and Himmelreich, Jørg eds. Architecture Dialogues: Positions—Concepts—Visions. Zurich: Braun Publishers, 2012. Architekturpreis Beton 05. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2005. Architekturpreis Beton 09. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2009. Architekturpreis Beton 13. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2013. archithese, Zurich, Nr. 1, 2014, 86– 87: “Grauer Aal statt Ruderal.” Breiding, R. James. Swiss Made. The Untold Story Behind Switzerland’s Success London. Profile Books, 2013, 312– 329. Bürkle, J. Christoph, ed. Swiss Performance 11. archithese. Zurich, 2011, 60–63. Caviezel, Nott. “Eine Zeitreise.” In werk, bauen + wohnen, Zurich, Nr. 11, 2004, 46–51. Caviezel, Nott. “Am alten Viehmarkt.” In werk, bauen + wohnen, Zurich, Nr. 6, 2008, 58. Davidovici, Irina. Forms of Practice, German-Swiss Architecture 1980–2000. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2012. DETAIL, Institut für Internationale Architektur-Dokumentation, Munich, Nr. 6, 2014, 586–590: “Summer House in Linescio.” Diener, Roger, Jacques Herzog, Marcel Meili, Pierre de Meuron, and Christian Schmid. Switzerland: An Urban Portrait. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2006. Durisch, Thomas, ed. Peter Zumthor: Buildings and Projects 1985–2013. Zurich: Scheidegger and Spiess, 2014. ETH Zurich ed, Neue Monte-Rosa-Hütte SAC. Ein autarkes Bauwerk im hochalpinen Raum. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2010. Feusi, Alois. “Der Fluch des Erfolgs.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 20. 09. 2011. Foxley, Alice. Distance & Engagement. Baden: Lars Müller Publishers, 2010. Gadola, Reto. Architektur der Sehnsucht: 20 Schweizer Ferienhäuser aus dem 20. Jahrhundert. Zurich: gta Verlag, 2013. Haefeli, Rebekka. “Mehr als nur ein Dach über dem Kopf.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 26. 09. 2014. Hägele, Steffen. “Massiver Erhalt, Hütte und Ferienwohnung in Flims.” In archithese, Zurich, Nr. 1, 2013, 76–78. Hanak, Michael, ed. Umbau des Hospizes auf dem Gotthardpass durch Miller & Maranta. Zurich: Park Books, 2012. Hollenstein, Roman. “Baukünstlerische Essenzen.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 15.10. 2010. Hollenstein, Roman. “Alpiner Urbanismus.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 03. 06. 2005. Hubertus, Adam. “Alpine Architektur heute.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 23. 09. 2009. Hubertus, Adam. “Hausförmige Hofmauern.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 26.11. 2007. Jodidio, Philip. Architecture in Switzerland. Berlin: Taschen, 2006. Mayer, Hannes, Florian Dreher, Katharina Sommer, and Paula Strunden. Swiss Performance 14. archithese. Zurich, 2014, 16–21, 86–87. Moore, Rowan. “Herzog and de Meuron: Tate Modern’s architects on their radical new extension.” In The Guardian Observer Magazine. London, 15. 05. 2016. Roos, Anna. “Kristall Kubus—Zwischen Schloss und Hof.” In Ensuite Kulturmagazin, Bern, March 2014, 20. Roos, Anna. “Open and closed.” In A10 New European architecture, Nr. 57, Amsterdam, 2014, 7. Roos, Anna. “Refugi Lieptgas.” In A10 New European architecture, Nr. 59, Amsterdam, 2014, 8. Roos, Anna. “One with the trees.” In A10 New European architecture, Nr. 60, Amsterdam, 2014, 54. Schoper, Tom. “Die Erfahrung von Atmosphäre.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 26. 08. 2013. Spier, Steven. Swiss Made, New Architecture from Switzerland. Princeton: Princeton Architectural Press, 2003. Structural Engineering International, Zurich, Nr. 2. 1997, 92– 94: “The Traversina Footbridge, Switzerland.” Tietz, Jürgen. “Bewahren und Verändern.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 31. 07. 2010. Wainwright, Oliver. http://www.oliverwainwright.co.uk/2009/06/ valerio-olgiati.html. 01. 06. 2009. Wefing, Heinrich. “Nichts als Wasser, Licht und Stein.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 22. 03. 2009. Windhöfel, Lutz. “Die Fassade als Aquarell.” In Neue Zürcher Zeitung, Zurich, 14. 06. 2005. Zumthor, Peter. Thinking Architecture. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2010. Zumthor, Peter. Atmospheres. Basel: Birkhäuser Verlag, 2006.

SWISS SENSIBILITY The Culture of Architecture in Switzerland Anna Roos Copy editing: Louise Gain Project management: Alexander Felix, Katharina Kulke Design, typesetting: Res Eichenberger Design, Zurich Production: Heike Strempel Paper: Munken Lynx Rough 120 g/m² Printing: DZA Druckerei zu Altenburg GmbH Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. 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. This publication is also available as an e-book (ISBN PDF 978-3-0356-0922-6) and in a German language edition (ISBN 978-3-0356-1130-4) and in a French language edition (ISBN 978-3-0356-1131-1) © 2017 Birkhäuser Verlag GmbH, Basel P. O. Box 44, 4009 Basel, Switzerland Part of Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Printed on acid-free paper produced from chlorine-free pulp. TCF ∞ Printed in Germany ISBN 978-3-0356-1128-1 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 www.birkhauser.com

Supported by