Influences: Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

An earlier blog entry of mine, “Genealogy of Influence,” promised a series of posts about the architects and theorists who influenced my architectural world view. This is the latest post in the series. 

2020 has been a cursed and pernicious year. Perhaps as a defense mechanism, many of us have looked for silver linings or solace in things we find inspiring, beautiful, and comforting. For me, these include reawakening my appreciation for the genius embodied by the master architects I came to admire at the outset of my life in architecture, particularly my affinity for their most sophisticated, serene, and elegant works. 

Such was the case earlier this year when I learned of the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s yearlong celebration of the life and times of Dr. Edith Farnsworth and the sublime weekend retreat in Plano, Illinois designed for her in a minimalist idiom by pioneering German Modernist Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (1886-1969). The Farnsworth House is a true icon of avant-garde modern architecture. Completed in 1951, the 1,500-square-foot structure is a thorough summation of the great architect’s formal concepts at the time: clear-span, universal, and flexible space, and an unwavering tectonic clarity achieved through the spare use and expression of a building’s structure and materiality. The project’s setting—a scenic meadow within the flood plain of the Fox River—ensures a classic reciprocity and balanced dialogue between architecture and nature. It is a masterpiece. 

Farnsworth House (photo by marco 2000 / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0))

Stunningly beautiful as the Farnsworth House appears in photographs (I’ve yet to visit it in person but hope to someday), it was notoriously dysfunctional. Its costly and obsessive detailing would not spare Dr. Farnsworth from its failings. Unbearably hot in the summer, bone-chillingly cold in the winter, prone to leaking, and victim to seasonal flooding, the house often proved unlivable. 

The National Trust’s focus on Edith Farnsworth indirectly spotlights her relationship with Mies, which started as client & architect but would become both a creative and romantic entanglement, and ultimately an acrimonious legal row between the two (Farnsworth sued for malpractice, citing the substantial cost increase beyond the original price agreed to in 1949; Mies sued for unpaid construction costs). Their story is one fit for a Hollywood treatment, and sure enough a big-screen film is in the works with its producers casting Elizabeth Debicki as Edith and Ralph Fiennes as Mies. 

Drama and the project’s shortcomings aside, I immediately liked the Farnsworth House because it was so clearly a distillation of architectural principles. In this regard, it made sense to me as I struggled as a student to understand how buildings should be designed with principled intentions, as opposed to being entirely devoid of them. This was textbook architecture with a capital “A.” 

Like Le Corbusier, and to a lesser degree Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies was one of the canonical modern architects. He joined other progressive architects in seeking a new architectural style guided by visionary and rational problem-solving and expressive of the modern condition. He would serve as the last director of the Bauhaus before its closure under pressure by the Nazis, who regarded the school to be a center of communist intellectualism. Like some of his Bauhaus colleagues (Walter Gropius and Marcel Breuer among them), Mies chose to leave Germany for the U.S. before World War II. It was here that he would see his influence gain the most traction. Both directly and indirectly, his hand in shaping corporate, civic, cultural, and educational architecture along modernist lines in the years following the War is undeniable. For better or worse, the legacy of Mies van der Rohe remains evident in major cities everywhere. 

I have seen two of Mies’ buildings in person: the Seagram Building in New York, and the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library in Washington, DC (his last project, completed in 1973 after his death). Of these two, the Seagram Building is clearly superior, though the MLK Memorial Library underscores how much the lasting worth of his designs was dependent upon generous budgets (both for their initial construction and ongoing maintenance) and the attendant use of top-quality materials. 

Seagram Building (my photo)

Corner view; note the applied, non-structural I-beams (my photo)

Many regard the Seagram Building to be the epitome of the modern skyscraper. Enjoying a lavish budget, Mies and his team were able to indulge his aesthetic predilections in pursuit of nothing less than the standard by which all other office towers would be judged. In addition to the grand gesture of setting the building behind a generous open plaza along Park Avenue (unprecedented at the time of its completion in 1958), the building boasts an exquisitely proportioned and detailed bronze & glass façade. Despite the renown of Mies’ dictum “Less is more,” the design employs non-structural bronze I-sections that only function to suggest the actual structural frame behind them (so perhaps his companion tenet “God is in the details” is more applicable). The Seagram Building did serve as a template for the countless skyscrapers that followed, though few if any would attain its level of brilliance, and most would be nothing more than cliched, cheap knockoffs. 

Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library (photo by Difference engine / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0))

The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library isn’t a bad example of modern architecture; however, in addition to suffering the deprivations of a modest construction budget and inadequate maintenance since its opening, the building highlights the shortcomings of universally applying Mies’ principles of free-flowing universal space to a program that would welcome spatial differentiation. The DC Public Library system is proceeding with a major modernization project, so we’ll see if the planned improvements ameliorate the MLK Library’s deficiencies while honoring Mies’ original design intent. 

Ludwig Mies van der Rohe was dogmatic and uncompromising, but in this regard he was no different than many of history’s great architects. Architectural historians will point to his outsized influence and role in disseminating a particular strain of modern architecture. My takeaway from his body of work will always include the architect’s duty to determine an optimal relationship between a building and its site, the desirability of getting proportions right, and the importance of choosing the right building materials.

Collaboration

New Edison Elementary School, view from south (Mahlum Architects with Robertson/Sherwood/Architects pc)

As a smallish architectural practice, my firm—Robertson/Sherwood/Architects (RSA)—embraces the reality of pursuing work in the small-to-medium-sized Eugene-Springfield market. This reality includes adaptation as generalists. We would not have survived and thrived for as long as we have if we instead had focused on a few, very specific areas of expertise. This strategy has served us well—allowing us to successfully navigate our way across the crests and troughs of a capricious economy—but it also has meant we cannot always claim a depth of experience and capability our potential clients consider as preconditions to selection for their important projects. Accordingly, we have often teamed up with prominent firms of regional and national reach and reputation to pursue the larger, more complex assignments we covet. These collaborators provide expertise and experience complementary to ours, thereby enhancing our prospects for obtaining these significant commissions. 

Some of RSA’s most noteworthy projects were the product of associations with larger, highly regarded architectural offices. These include the Eugene Public Library (with Shepley Bulfinch), the Springfield Justice Center (with ROSSER International), the Corvallis Clinic Surgery Center (with Boulder Associates), the Lane Community College Downtown Campus (with the SRG Partnership and Pyatok Architecture & Urban Design), the University of Oregon Student Recreation Center (with RDG Planning & Design and Poticha Architects), Civic Park (with Skylab Architecture), and multiple K-12 school projects with Mahlum Architects. In each instance, we worked collaboratively with our partners to design the project. In the process, we learned about how these firms go about their business, gaining valuable insights into their organizational structures, methodologies, and cultures. 

Typically, as the locally based firm with established ties to the clients, RSA serves as the executive architect/architect-of-record. We hold the prime design contract with the client/owner. In this capacity, we provide project oversight, technical expertise, and leadership to ensure an integrated project process. We also bring to the table our knowledge of local conditions, established relationships with authorities having jurisdiction and familiarity with their processes, and a rapport with local builders. The firms we collaborate with—though usually much larger than us and with more resources at their disposal—usually function as consultants to us. From the perspective of our clients, our design partners are subcontractors with whom they have no direct contractual ties. 

There are various legal arrangements available for formalizing the relationship between partnering design firms. The prime + subcontractor pact we most often use is one option. Another is a true joint venture, wherein the two parties form a partnership for a specific project. Party A and Party B create an altogether new entity— AB—to provide services to the client. A problem with joint ventures is the amount of legal planning necessary to form one; this involves negotiating the level of financial contribution and risk each party will assume. A third option is a multiple-prime arrangement, though the circumstances favoring such a relationship between primary design team members are infrequent and usually originate at the behest of the client (who may bring the collaborating firm to the project). 

An exception to the prevalence of instances wherein we have assumed the mantle of executive architect is our K-12 work with Mahlum. For these jobs, Mahlum has assumed the lead role. This is in part due to Mahlum’s long history with and high level of favorable recognition among school districts throughout the Pacific Northwest (for the other projects listed above, our collaborators were not always known quantities to the clients, and strategically and logistically it made the most sense for my office to take on project management and prime contractor duties). RSA and Mahlum have collaborated profitably since 2002, a testament to our mutual respect, a repeatable model for success, and compatible values and capabilities. 

Our long experience with Mahlum includes the following projects: 

• North Eugene High School Master Plan 
• Thurston Elementary School 
• Maple Elementary School 
• Roosevelt Middle School 
• Pleasant Hill School District Additions & Renovations 
• Eugene School District High School Education Specifications 
• Edison Elementary School 

Our work on the Edison Elementary School project for Eugene School District 4J, now in the Construction Documents phase, serves as an excellent case in point highlighting the pros of a favorable collaboration. Among these are sharing of technical expertise and know-how, improved economies of scale, and access to an opportunity we might otherwise not have been afforded if we both pursued it individually rather than as a combined team. Common technology platforms both firms use eliminate barriers to effective communication. This has proven especially true during the current work-from-home regime, with our mutual use of Revit for BIM, RingCentral for video conferencing and team messaging, Bluebeam for design reviews, and Miro for online collaboration. Working on a single integrated, cloud-hosted model has allowed us to develop the design from geographically remote locations. For all intents and purposes, we are functioning as a single office on the Edison project rather than as two separate firms. 

Mahlum and RSA negotiated an equitable split of project duties and our associated fees for the Edison job. The breakdown shifts from greater involvement by Mahlum during program verification, Conceptual Design, and Schematic Design, through a more equal division of labor during Design Development and Construction Documents, to heavier responsibilities for RSA during the permitting and Construction Contract Administration phases. Despite this typical assignment of tasks, my office is entirely involved during the early stages of the project. Mahlum welcomes our input during every phase of design, especially because of our intimate familiarity with District 4J and the Edison community; conversely, we expect Mahlum to remain engaged through construction and occupancy of the completed school. We’re all primarily responsible for what we’re best at. As the architects-of-record for Edison, Mahlum is fulfilling its project leadership and management duties. 

The fundamental reason our relationship is so effective comes down to our compatible cultures. Because of our long history together and familiarity with one another, the chemistry between RSA and Mahlum is immediately evident to our clients. Our partnership is truly synergistic and reciprocal. We share a commitment to integrated project planning. We have honed our management and communication processes, refining and testing them over the years. One of the most important aspects of our working relationship has been the development of a team atmosphere based on trust and a spirit of cooperation. The principles we abide by are similar, and the values we hold are in common. Neither firm is fraught with overbearing or clashing egos. The distinct absence of a dominant personality or personalities has fostered an egalitarian and consensus-driven approach to design. We do understand the value of compromise and when it is necessary and beneficial. 

Every opportunity I have had to work with Mahlum has been a treat. The same has been true with each of our other major collaborators. Obviously, we have chosen our partners well, but then again collaboration comes naturally to us. We are proof alliances between large practices and smaller firms can make good business sense for both parties. 

Ultimately, collaboration is a simple concept. Effective communication is crucial. So is maximizing each team members’ strengths, as well as giving credit to others for their contributions. Above all, the power of collaboration resides in the development of shared ideas and their effective implementation toward the best possible projects for our clients and the communities they serve. 

*      *      *      *      * 

As mentioned above, Mahlum and RSA are currently in the process of completing construction documents for the Edison Elementary School project. The design assumes entirely replacing the existing school, which is the oldest and in the poorest condition of all the 4J school buildings. Demolition of the old building will occur this coming winter, with construction of the new building immediately following. The new Edison Elementary School will be ready to welcome back its students in September 2022. 

Check out the video below for a 3D virtual tour through the new design.

 

Architecture Beyond Earth

The International Space Station (all photos by NASA/public domain)

I grew up a witness to the Space Race, to astonishingly rapid advancements in technology and exploits that fulfilled the wildest dreams of a young space nerd. My heroes were the pioneering American astronauts and their trailblazing counterparts, the Soviet cosmonauts, as well as the brilliant rocket scientists and technicians that designed and built their spacecraft. I believed those early space exploration efforts were only a hint at the limitlessness of humankind’s potential. My faith in our ability to do wondrous things was richly rewarded when Apollo 11 landed on the Moon in July of 1969. I remember my wide-eyed amazement as a true miracle of modern science unfolded before me in grainy black-and-white television images. The experience encouraged me to think big, look beyond the horizon, and ponder life’s greatest questions.

Fast-forward fifty-one years. Today, all of us inhabit a much-smaller world, rendered all the more so by a raging global pandemic. COVID-19 has circumscribed our recreational outlets, but reading and the availability of good books offer some respite. I recently treated myself by purchasing another new book to read, one which combines my enthusiasm for space exploration with my life in architecture. Entitled International Space Station: Architecture Beyond Earth, the lavishly illustrated volume chronicles the history of the ISS from the viewpoint of its author, David Nixon, an architect who actually contributed to the early stages of its design. As a fellow architect with more than a passing interest in space technology, I was naturally drawn to Architecture Beyond Earth.

As most everyone knows, the International Space Station is an engineering achievement of epic proportions, an immensely complex and bold undertaking that has involved not only NASA and the Russian space agency Roscosmos, but also ESA (the European Space Agency), JAXA (Japan), and CSA (Canada). President Reagan approved the ISS in 1984 but it wasn’t until 1998 that the first components of the space laboratory reached orbit. The first long-term residents arrived in November of 2000. Since then, the ISS has been continuously occupied; to date hundreds of astronauts, cosmonauts, and space tourists from 20 different nations have visited, lived, and worked in the station, sometimes for periods as long as a year. The collaborating nations have continuously expanded the facility, such that it is now comprised of fifteen habitable modules (with more additions scheduled) arrayed along an integrated truss structure. The ISS is the single biggest human-made object in space—109 meters long and 75 meters wide—and visible moving across the night sky without the aid of a telescope or binoculars.

Architecture Beyond Earth provides a comprehensive account of the ISS’ conception, design, and assembly in space. Perhaps the greatest parallels between the ISS and the earthbound architecture we’re more familiar with are the processes of design, engineering, problem-solving, and assembly/construction, as well as the politics of development and the trials and tribulations all large, complex projects inevitably encounter.(1)

As David Nixon describes in his book, NASA and its international collaborators dealt with more than their fair share of fiscal and political challenges in the course of making the ISS a reality. I don’t mean to engage in schadenfreude, but it’s strangely reassuring to know rocket scientists must confront and overcome challenges just as those of us involved with terrestrial design and construction projects do. Theirs were and are orders of magnitude more complex than encountered by all but the most ambitious of our jobs. The logistics alone—orchestrating a multinational set of partners and contractors, ensuring the compatibility and interoperability of countless systems, and bringing them all together (in space no less!)—are absolutely mind-boggling.     

The Cupola

Clearly, the immense technological challenges associated with providing a safe habitat for people conducting important research while in the hostile environment of low-earth orbit take precedence over all other considerations. Economy of means, functionality, and maintainability were and are paramount. Despite Nixon characterizing the ISS as the “first great piece of extraterrestrial architecture” and likening it to some of the great architectural accomplishments on Earth, the reality is the ISS’ shimmering, brittle beauty is almost entirely incidental to its utility as a vessel for safely accommodating space scientists. Any stylishness or elegance the ISS possesses is a byproduct of its extreme functional imperative as a platform for Earth observation and space research.

The design of a space station adheres to a literally alien set of rules: There is no gravity or weather to overcome. “Up” and “down” are concepts rather than objective realities. And yet it is a place of habitation. Nixon acknowledges the importance of providing the ISS occupants with a pleasant environment in which to live and work, and how the ISS admittedly falls short in this respect. He cites Vitruvius’ venerable triad of architectural virtues—firmitas, utilitas, venustas—in the service of describing the ISS. Ultimately, we are obliged to measure how good a work of architecture is beyond considerations of commodity and firmness alone.

Nicole Stott

Retired NASA astronaut Nicole Stott wrote the book’s forward as a personal memoir of her stays in the ISS. She mentions her appreciation for the Station’s few true amenities, such as the seven-window cupola where the astronauts and cosmonauts can sit and look at the Earth, play a guitar, read a book, or just meditate. For Stott, the ISS was more than an astronomically expensive piece of scientific equipment; it was her home away from home during two separate missions in 2009 and 2011. The comfort and wellbeing of human beings are important considerations, especially in an environment they were not evolved to thrive within. Future space architecture will almost certainly transcend the needs of merely ensuring survivability and more fully address and enrich the crew members’ quality of life. After all, humans are feeling and thinking beings, and not robots.

Today, a new space race is underway as commercial ventures, such as SpaceX and Blue Origin, are competing to make access to space safe and cost-competitive. Both Elon Musk of SpaceX and Jeff Bezos of Blue Origin imagine homo sapiens becoming a truly spacefaring species, traveling the solar system and establishing permanent space settlements. Whether we ultimately see Martian colonies (Musk’s dream) or O’Neill cylinders (Bezos’ vision), architecture in its fullest sense will unquestionably play a key role. The lessons learned from the ISS experience will influence the design of future space habitats.

As an Amazon reviewer averred, “Nixon writes as an insider – one of the few architects invited to work on the Station’s design – which makes International Space Station: Architecture Beyond Earth a landmark publication.” By bringing an architect’s perspective to the project and his book, Nixon essentially argues for the necessity of making our future homes and places of work in space as habitable and hospitable as practicable. If you’re seeking an engrossing diversion during these extraordinary times, I highly recommend Architecture Beyond Earth.

(1)  I’ve always been a sucker for books that chronicle the history of building projects, from their inception through completion and use. I am particularly fascinated by the architecture and engineering teams’ decision-making processes, their approach to understanding the projects’ parameters, how they determine and define the design problems to be solved, and the design solutions themselves. I can claim several volumes of this genre in my collection. Notable among these are the following:

• Battle for the Life and Beauty of the Earth: A Struggle Between Two World Systems
• The Biography of a Building; How Robert Sainsbury and Norman Foster Built a Great Museum
• Body Heat: The Story of the Woodward’s Redevelopment
• Mother’s House: The Evolution of Vanna Venturi’s House in Chestnut Hill
• Symphony: Frank Gehry’s Walt Disney Concert Hall  
• The De Young in the 21^st Century: A Museum by Herzog & de Meuron

 

Play On!

KIDSPORTS is now operating summer multisport camps for first to eighth-graders in its new home at Civic Park. The opening of the new facilities is a testament to the vision and dogged perseverance of the members of the non-profit Eugene Civic Alliance (ECA). Their determination in the face of a devastating setback and daunting fundraising goals has rewarded all of Eugene with a new sports and recreation destination, home to the area’s most comprehensive youth sports programs. 

Civic Park’s all-weather synthetic turf field and the new KIDSPORTS fieldhouse comprise the majority of the project’s Phase One scope of work. The balance of the initial construction phase consists of a Ticket Office, enhanced pedestrian crossings at Willamette Street and Amazon Parkway, a 100-meter outdoor running track, and completion of site signage, interior “hero” graphics, and donor recognition. The City of Eugene granted Civic Park with a temporary Certificate of Occupancy for Phase One, which permits KIDSPORTS to offer its summer camps.  

Aerial view looking toward the northeast (photo courtesy Chambers Construction)

Despite the availability of the new all-weather synthetic turf field and the new fieldhouse, KIDSPORTS will maintain its use of public facilities (local schools), so the organization’s core program will continue to provide children with an opportunity to play at their neighborhood school, with their classmates and neighborhood friends. What the new facilities do is provide spaces for tournaments, the opportunity to revitalize and expand community leagues, enhance children’s education through activity, sport, and social development academies, and also provide schools that cannot adequately serve their populations with additional practice and play opportunities. 

(photo courtesy Chambers Construction)

While KIDSPORTS’ focus is primarily on providing age-appropriate physical activity and physical literacy programs for local youngsters, Civic Park will also host adult recreation leagues offering basketball, pickle ball, volleyball, soccer, ultimate frisbee, and indoor/outdoor futsal. Additionally, Civic Park will be the new home field for Lane United FC soccer club, which unfortunately has cancelled its 2020 season due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Phase Two of the Civic Park project (stadium grandstand, concourse, locker rooms, and storage) is fully designed and permitted, but awaits additional funds before it can proceed. The Eugene Civic Alliance’s capital campaign remains an ongoing effort, one it hopes will result in Phase Two being realized very soon.

Detail view of projecting Conference Room (photo by Stephen Miller)

The project has exceeded my expectations. Though formally simple in conception, our partners at Skylab Architecture made just enough moves to endow the design with ample visual interest. Skylab’s trademark precise geometries are in play, albeit appropriately restrained by a tight budget, site constraints, and straightforward functional brief. I particularly appreciate the deep and rhythmic shadowing of the metal siding and its crisp detailing. The prominence of the strategically placed “KIDSPORTS” letters on the north façade is a revelation, as the sign is visible from many blocks away to motorists traveling south along Pearl Street before it becomes Amazon Parkway.

Inside the fieldhouse, the main lobby, gymnasium, and KIDSPORTS offices are suffused with natural light. Green accents are everywhere—tinted glass units, brightly painted stairs, the borders of the basketball courts—greatly contributing to the design’s cheery ambience. 

Gymnasium (photo by Stephen Miller)

It was my intention to wait until Civic Park’s Grand Opening event (originally scheduled to take place in June) before writing again about the project, but the coronavirus outbreak and “Stay Safe, Stay Home” order upset those plans. The Grand Opening isn’t likely to occur anytime soon. As the Civic Alliance recently stated on itswebsite, this is a difficult time for everyone. ECA knows Civic Park will play an important role in our community’s recovery, and the resumption of summer camps offered by KIDSPORTS is a first step. The times are uncertain but when life does fully return to normal, Civic Park will fulfill its promise as a community hub that helps bring Eugene together again.

(photo by Stephen Miller)

KIDSPORTS Executive Director Bev Smith has been effusive in her praise for and appreciation of the new facility. I know I speak on behalf of the entire design and construction team when I can say how gratifying it is to know our client is happy with the outcome of a lengthy and at times trying process. Once again, I’ve been blessed with the privilege to have worked on a significant community asset, an experience I’ll look back upon with pride for the rest of my life.

Transition, Preview, Slow Reveal

Mercer Museum (photo by Bestbudbrian / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0))

It’s time once again for another installment from the late Bill Kleinsasser’s self-published textbook SYNTHESIS. In the selection below Bill drew upon his extensive familiarity with the buildings of Henry Chapman Mercer to illustrate a key theory associated with experiential considerations in architecture.    

I previously mentioned how central Mercer’s idiosyncratic work was to Bill’s conception of richly developed buildings and places. As a student of his during the early 1980s, I found Bill’s fascination with the Mercer Museum, Fonthill, and Mercer’s Tileworks peculiar since I considered the buildings ugly and unworthy of his extensive attention; however, since then I have come to understand what he appreciated about these curious buildings. A visit to Doylestown, PA to see all three features prominently on my “bucket list” of things to do before I die. I look forward to someday experiencing these unique works of architecture, with the privilege of viewing them through eyes influenced nearly four decades ago by Bill’s teaching.

Transition, Preview, Slow Reveal

Buildings and places are invariably complex, especially when first experienced. Because of this complexity, they often are confusing. It is helpful if places are organized so that they may be approached and experienced gradually, so that foreknowledge may be gained ahead of full commitment. It is also helpful if a place (especially its special features) may be seen several times from several viewpoints, so that its overall pattern may be understood.

Upon entering Mercer’s Museum, one’s first view is into the great central space and up and across to the exhibits. One immediately understands the general arrangement, notices many of the larger or more spectacular exhibits, and proceeds up and around. As the central space is circled, many previews, back-views, and cross-views present themselves, constantly reinforcing one’s understanding of the place. After one circuit, or less, the place is clear.

In Fonthill, where again the circumstances of time and use are very different, previews and multiple views are present to a lesser extent. But here too Mercer provided hints of adjacent spaces, overviews, and internal vistas by making careful plan overlaps, multi-levels within spaces, and open stairs.

These clarifying, orienting provisions are also present in the Tileworks: the two-level studio (and open stair), the two-level gallery around the courtyard, and the stairs and walkways on the roof. In all three buildings, conditions exist that allow near-total traversing of all spaces. Nearly every nook and cranny can be explored.

And one more point: Previews and multiple views require openness, spatial interpenetration, and general spatiality.

(WK/1981)