As it was indicated in the previous issue, the Society of Iranian Architects, sponsored by the House of Iranian Artists and Le Grand Company, from the first to the third of October held a gathering in Tehran in order to present the achievements of the 21st International Congress of Architecture, Berlin 2002. The meeting attracted a large number of students and architects. In this meeting, a film of Peter Eisenman's speech at the Berlin congress was shown with Persian subtitles, and was analyzed afterwards by architects invited by the Society of Iranian Architects — consisting of Dr. Mohammad Mansour Falamaki, Mr. Kamran Safamanesh, Mr. Mohammad Reza Haeri, and Mr. Babak Shokoufi. At the end of the program, with a proposition by the announcer, Dr. Shahab Katoozian and Mr. Reza Daneshmir, who were also present in the hall, expressed their opinions for the audience. The Persian translation of the speech and the subsequent commentaries are presented here.
It might be very interesting for those readers of Memar magazine who have not been able to participate in this meeting to find out about the contents of Eisenman's speech and its interpretations, as he is one of the greatest stars of today's architecture in the world. Considering the vast range of different interpretations made on just one speech, one may wonder: isn't it necessary to limit the vast range of a word's meaning in order to make a discussion possible between two sides?
Peter Eisenman's Speech
...He said to me: we had a film festival in Berlin, and they presented the proposals for the World Trade Center site and I said they were all very bad. One of them asked me: why? I said: because none of them had any idea, and of course when they put them on public display, people thought the same thing. I think people are much smarter than we give them credit for. There were technical people involved in filmmaking, producers and technical staff, and of course stars too. They understand intuitively what an idea means.
Don't you find it strange that at an architecture festival — one of the few major festivals — everyone is there except the main stars? I didn't want to say I think I'm a star myself. Then he said: "Don't you think stars are among the resources?" — referring to the congress title, "Resource Architecture." I said: "Yes, I think so too." He said: "That's interesting, because Germany's main stars, whom the whole world knows, including Matthias Ungers and Libeskind, are not speaking at this festival. Do you know why?" I said: "It seems strange, but I think that's your problem, not mine."
In any case, it seems the mass media that run things don't think stars have much of a place in architecture. This is the first part of my talk. The second part is: if we want to talk about something other than stars, what in architecture qualifies as a resource that I can talk about? Because I don't know much about technology, and I don't know much about building or equipment, ecology, or plumbing systems and all that. When they asked me to participate in this festival, I said to myself: one of the greatest resources of architecture is architectural ideas. The most important thing for me is having an idea. One of the reporters asked me: what do you mean by architectural resources? I told him: let me give you an example. Two weeks ago, when they presented six proposed solutions for the World Trade Center site, I said they were all very bad. One of them asked me: why? I said: because none of them had any idea, and of course when they put them on public display, people thought the same thing. I think people are much smarter than we give them credit for.
Because if you ask architects what makes a work into a work of architecture, they cannot answer. Today I raise this too as a question, not an answer. Because after September 11th, we as architects faced this problem: how can we represent? How can we make representation? This issue is not simply about the attack on the World Trade Center, but because of the way the media transmitted it. For the first time, we witnessed an unpredictable event simultaneously and live across the entire world. In fact, I have become convinced that this was designed as a kind of advertisement so that terrorists would attack one of the buildings and all of us would turn on our televisions and see the event — just like a film. Of course, no film could have been made this well, and it could not have created the impact of seeing a real event live. No matter how realistic science fiction films appear, they cannot affect us as much as live media images. For this reason, the role that the media played was very important for the whole world, for various political reasons that I have no interest in. I am more interested in the effects on architecture — in what this event means for architecture.
When the media immediately and live broadcast images of it around the world, especially since we were working on a project at that very site — because a group of us architects had been asked to design a project for that site — and that is a very great responsibility.
The content of a memorial there, because of the way the media operates, still exists in people's minds. In other words, many people saw that event, whereas for most other memorable events — the Holocaust, Hiroshima, and the like — there are not many living witnesses. The memorials we build for them usually rely on a memory that has remained in minds. But when you are asked to build a memorial at the World Trade Center site, you are no longer facing just a memory but a real image. So whatever you build falls short; whatever you build lacks the dynamism and the impact of the unmediated presence of those real images — and this is nothing other than the challenge of representation.
So my argument is this: if we begin with Adolf Loos's statement that architecture is nothing but memorials and tombs, and it is through them that we remember our history and culture, the question will be: in the age of media, how can one build a memorial? When all images have already been seen, how can architecture compete with this phenomenon? I believe that representation and image — which since Brunelleschi have been the instruments of how we produce culture — that we can no longer, through visual representation, erect a memorial the way we did before the age of media. The question arises: how does architecture want to deal with the issue of representation and image?
And this is exactly what I want to raise as one aspect of the architectural idea. Of course, this is not the only architectural idea. But it is undoubtedly something that all of human society, Eastern and Western, has thought about: how can one represent one's culture?
Well, one of the most important issues in architecture, unique to architecture compared with other arts, is the ground. Of course, the ground exists in painting and sculpture too, but the ground in architecture is not just the site of the project. It is also its historical record. In other words, the ground in architecture is more like a palimpsest — an old manuscript whose text has been erased and rewritten. That is, history is in it. It is not simply a blank surface. I believe architecture always encounters this history in a very important way. In other words, we never merely represent history — we re-present it. We bring it to the present, as Proust says, to create the future. So for me, one of the starting points, whether it is a memorial — whether in New York, at the World Trade Center site, or here in Berlin, at the Holocaust site — regardless of the content of that memorial, is this very thing. Even in Santiago de Compostela, where we are building a cultural complex that is not a memorial at all and is a living project, we have always started with the ground. The ground has always been our particular architectural idea. In other words, the understanding that building something on a site has a meaning, and having an original site, a place, a text — this has always been the most important issue for us.
Now, what all of us usually do is pull the project out of the ground, and the goal has always been to create an object or an image. The subject of my talk today is that we need to rethink the way we do this. Because the media have occupied the realm of images. The media have made it difficult for architects to build on a site. This is a more important issue than I can explain in the half hour I have. But it is an issue I want to open for discussion. As an idea, a resource — in the sense that the ground is a resource, the history of that ground is a resource. And the truth is that our images, too, were once among the resources. But I believe they no longer have the power to maintain themselves against the overwhelming power of media coverage, the totality of media that we as architects are confronting.
So in all three projects — the World Trade Center, the Holocaust memorial, Santiago de Compostela — we used the site as data and had no intention of creating any image. In Santiago de Compostela, we are building an opera house. But we are not making something that has the form or symbol of an opera and represents it. We want the form to be something that has emerged from the ground of that particular place and speaks of its history, of the culture of San Sebastian, San Diego, San Juan. We tried to build something that resembles nothing else. Similarly, in the World Trade Center project, we tried not to create anything symbolic that would be less than the event itself.
Now I want to talk about this particular Holocaust project that we are doing in Berlin. We won the competition. The main idea of the project was that under no circumstances would we symbolize the Holocaust. Because whatever we did would come out as a cliché. If it looked like the Holocaust — we wanted to see what architecture could do with the ground. Our intention was to create affect, not just effect. Not just to build something functional. We wanted to build something in which the body, the mind, and the eye together would reach that primal experience, and which has no specific purpose or function and is merely a silent project. Its silence allows everyone to experience an architecture — that is, a three-dimensional environment — and the whole idea was that when someone enters the Holocaust museum and the camp site, they would internalize that experience, not just go and say "yes, it was a terrible tragedy."
The same claim holds for the World Trade Center. If someone wants to build a memorial there, they should build something that allows the individual to take the experience of that tragedy into their unconscious and internalize it. But I want to say that what we do has nothing to do with internalizing a terrible experience in someone's unconscious. Rather, it is about experiencing something new. The experience of being in a space alone, without knowing where you are, with a feeling of being lost in it. In other words, the realization of something that architecture — without creating an image, without representing a memory — accomplishes by creating the possibility of a physical impact, an experience that connects body, mind, and eye. This is something the media are not capable of doing. The media do not engage the body; they engage the eye and mind. And architecture has always engaged the body. When you enter a church, you don't merely think about the ceremony being performed. Your body receives a sensory impact from the space. When you enter Saint Peter's, regardless of whether you are Catholic, Muslim, or Jewish, the space has a sensory effect on you.
I only showed the Holocaust project because I didn't want you to think my remarks have nothing to do with Berlin. This work is entirely related to Berlin, and in fact we begin construction the first week of September. I don't want you to think this work is an answer to a question. This is only a personal effort to deal with the issue of the ground and what architects can do with ideas — and of course it has nothing to do with the question of function, symbol, and image.
Mohammad Reza Haeri
Thanks to our dear friends who participated in the Berlin congress, in less than three months, what happened on the international level was brought to Iran and made us participants in learning from the experiences of five thousand recognized architects worldwide. In my view, this speech is one of the strongest and most daring speeches I have ever seen and heard, and I do not think any architect has had the courage to discard all the references we have relied upon until now.
In my view, the subject is like the topography of a ground that Mr. Eisenman has shown, and it is important on two levels. The first level is Eisenman's manner of speaking. In the original version of the film that I have, you can see how comfortably the speaker engages with the audience, and how a speech of such importance is delivered with joy and laughter throughout. This matter of humor and wit is very significant, and many of the subtleties were conveyed through these laughs and jokes. Eisenman himself, who is rightly a star of architecture, denies his own stardom and throughout his speech speaks with utmost modesty. It is very important that a person can deliver a speech full of joy and life to five thousand people while addressing all aspects of the subject, without imposing himself on the atmosphere of the session.
Another point is that two interviews of Peter Eisenman, translated thanks to Mohammad Reza Joudat, have greatly helped introduce Eisenman in Iran. In the late or mid-1360s, when Peter Eisenman's name was first raised in Iran, everyone assumed he was some kind of gigolo going around in a necktie... In Rob Krier's conversation with Eisenman, all of Krier's arguments stemmed from historical and old architecture, and Eisenman masterfully refuted them. In his interview with Charles Jencks too, he says architecture is not of the nature of words and language and cannot be expressed in terms of words. In any case, to address Eisenman's works more, I must say that the more I read Eisenman, the more I understood Iranian architecture. We can discuss later how this is so — that is a different level of discussion.
Now let us turn to the second level. In my view, this speech is one of the most radical speeches ever given. That someone dares to say that form, function, memory, and image are none of them the criteria — this is very important. Eisenman expresses his argument forcefully through defamiliarization in design. In my view, more discussions should take place at this level. In this connection, I will address several important points:
The most important factor in the creation of any work is the idea. The idea is the original spirit of all the work we do. The most prominent example can be seen in the art of cinema in Iran. Many of our architects think that Iranian cinema, which has gained international recognition, is either a fluke or that they were just lucky. But this is not the case. Iranian cinema is a cinema of ideas. Its most important essence and the key factor in its success is the idea. And if architecture today is struggling at the lowest levels of construction, it is due to the lack of ideas.
Another point that has affected modern life, willingly or unwillingly, is the issue of September 11th. Naturally, architecture too has not remained untouched by its consequences. About 15 internet sites have been set up presenting various ideas for replacing the buildings at the World Trade Center site. The right-wingers believe exactly the same buildings should be rebuilt, while the left-wingers consider rebuilding them a mistake. In any case, the important point is that the dominant atmosphere after September 11th has profoundly affected architecture, and the undeniable role of the media in shaping thought should not be overlooked.
Architectural media in our country are mostly magazines, and other general media — except some reputable publications — pay little attention to architecture. Meanwhile, the most important issue is our cities, which receive very little attention. The role of the media in shaping thought is a question to which Eisenman responds.
Another point is that in Eisenman's work there is no particular direction and no principles that can be taken as a basis for design. Specifically, Eisenman has presented something we are all seeking. For years we have been searching for architectural references. What reference exists for the Iranian architect? In any case, what Eisenman raises — whether Resource Architecture or Architectural Resource — both address the question of authority in architecture. The discussion of authority in our country is not about vocabulary. We talk about references, yet everything we have is without reference. Very little attention has been paid to the reference that we saw today in Eisenman's work — that is, the concept of the ground — and many other references have been set aside too. Although the society Eisenman lives in is fundamentally different from ours, all other issues, including architectural authority and the idea, have not been negated — since the architectural idea cannot be separated from space. In other words, space as the most important reference in architecture remains valid. What Eisenman says in describing architecture is the best: the difference between architecture and other arts is that architecture encompasses the body, or in other words engages our entire being, while the media merely occupy the mind and eye.
In my view, this discussion should continue in another session with questions and answers. My emphasis is more on the discussion of idea and space. In Eisenman's argument, the issue of space was not very clear. Whether the discussion of space still holds validity for Eisenman or not is a question that can be addressed in a discussion about our own architectural references.
Mohammad Mansour Falamaki
To begin the discussion, one can take note of two observations that are about 25 years apart: one we bring from notes gathered from what an Italian critic had earlier written, and the second we base on points that Eisenman himself has said just now.
Before delving into our daily concerns, let me say it is better that we architects be very cautious in theorizing about the modern architecture movement. A few minutes ago, in this esteemed gathering, talk turned to the media that were supposed to introduce Eisenman's architecture — let us note that each architecture magazine, book, and even television report has its own particular perspective and does not present the subject fully and comprehensively. The young community of Iranian architects needs a comprehensive and accurate understanding of the modern architecture movement, an understanding that is recognized within its own framework. This framework, in today's conditions of spatial economy — or the economization of architecture — is not sufficiently introduced as it should be, and many of its indicators are kept out of reach of architects in the Third World. And this is something that does not easily happen in countries that are the birthplace and origin of modern architecture.
But let us return to those two observations we mentioned. We cite the first observation from a capable Italian critic named Fulvio Irace, who wrote in a compact statement in Op. Cit. magazine dating back to 1977, examining points published under the heading of up-to-date and unconventional research.
According to Irace, Peter Eisenman's architectures cannot be understood without taking into account his subtle theorizing. Eisenman's theories are brought back in the formulation of his designs and yield new insights, which in turn will be absorbed into his future design works. To understand Eisenman's architectures, one must be careful that this impression is not superficial — because the architectures of Eisenman emerge not merely from a cursory look at surface intersections.
Irace sees the generative play of Eisenman's architectural game as follows: the cube, as a form and a basis for creating a network of lines — horizontal and vertical planes — which combine with each other to create a particular order. Columns, which serve as nodal points of spaces, are given attention.
On the other hand, Irace attends to Eisenman's architectural language and says that his architectural language is pure and should not be seen by architects as the ultimate limit of a pure system — a system of tools lacking a particular taste and expression.
It is interesting to look at this same method of examining the structural-volumetric processes that give Eisenman's architecture its final form. From the analysis of the origins on which he bases his work, Irace says that in Eisenman's more famous architectures of that time — the five residential houses and especially the Frank House — Eisenman tries to distance himself from any attempt at lyricism or poetics of his architecture; he avoids re-creating signs that recall memories which might ground the culture of a place.
And let us pay attention to another part of our first observation: where the Italian critic of the architectural world explains that Eisenman's works — relying on theories expressed and confirmed by him — rest on three main pillars:
First — the pragmatic (which is summarized in the relationship between function and technology). Second — the semantic (which looks at the relationship between form, meaning, and iconography). Third — the syntactic (which looks at the convergent relationship of meaning and form).
In the essence of the second observation, it is seen that Eisenman does not believe in establishing a cultural-conceptual relationship between an architectural work and its site of placement.
Now let us go directly to the text of Eisenman's speech at the 21st World Congress. But before that, in my view, it is necessary for us architects to look at a point that is very fundamental.
The modern architecture movement, after its birth, declared the ideas of the Enlightenment era as its starting point and began its activity. In approximately one century — which is a relatively short time — a great movement is born and bears fruit. The modern architecture movement becomes powerfully active and, as they say, takes no prisoners. There are statements with humane, spiritual, and divine content that can be found in the writings of at least 10 CIAM congresses, all influenced by the modern architecture movement. In this period, the debates reach the peak of their power and develop into the belief that the human being is a creature with complex feelings. These feelings must be recognized and responded to, and the most sacred thing an architect can do is to respond, with whatever particular artistic vision they have, to demands that have a human foundation.
With the outbreak of World War II, the modern architecture movement was also shaken. World War II caused the job market for architects and architectural groups to be fundamentally transformed. A new element entered the arena of global architectural production, and the groups that until then had been organizing and perfecting their ideas together were gradually pushed aside. Architects have gradually been divided into two groups. The first consists of individual architects who make every effort to have their image and articles published regularly in the most important magazines. The second consists of architects who work in international trusts and form large contracting groups alongside design. This issue should not be overlooked, as it is one of the main reasons for ignoring or undervaluing the contribution of the modern architecture movement. However, if the movement could have ensured its own continuity, it might have reached a point where it no longer regarded the individual architect as the savior of humanity.
Now let us look at the statements and message we heard tonight: Eisenman's great daring. It is hard to say that merely having daring alone determines the fate of architecture. Daring is one of the tools that helps the architect in expressing their views, and nothing more.
Eisenman's main argument, from a particular viewpoint, was that architecture should be able to simultaneously affect the mind, eye, and body. If we broaden the scope, the subject becomes much deeper and wider. In the transition from the fourth to the fifth decade of the twentieth century, it was not architects who provided the main ground for this discussion, but other people. We read their writings and took note. The mind — we learned from others; from the phenomenologists, we learned what meaning it has. Even if we ourselves have worked in this field, our work is based on the extraordinarily advanced culture of the West, which begins with Hegel and arrives at today.
If you ask my opinion on positive or active — not passive — impressionability, my answer will be this: affecting a human being through the eye and the mind without engaging the body is impossible.
For about half a century, a reputable and established discipline has introduced architecture as a medium of mass communication, and this has been discussed as one of the ways of thinking about architecture. If it is said that architecture can function like a medium of mass communication, why should the reverse not be true? That is, why shouldn't every medium of mass communication be able to do the work of architecture? And this is a point that should be explored further.
In any case, giving an opinion on the work of an architect — and a valuable and great architect such as Eisenman — is no simple matter. But I have the daring to do it. Only if Mr. Shafei and his colleagues give me two to two-and-a-half months, and the audience themselves choose one of Eisenman's works or one of any modern star architect whose works appear on the covers of magazines, I will analyze it within the framework of the 70–80 years of experience of modern architecture — and not limit myself to that alone.
Regarding the Eisenman project that we briefly saw today: none of the essential indicators for presenting a project were addressed. Therefore, speaking about a project of which we have only seen a few fleeting images, and that in a completely abstract form, is not possible for me. In this film, one cannot observe a tangible architectural work that could help us in presenting a specific discussion.
It is good that we also remember Eisenman's earlier era. When he wants to free himself from all the responsibilities of modern technology, he says: "I don't know technology and I have no expertise in environmental matters either." This is a kind of abdication of responsibility. Well, if we too want to have a comfortable and trouble-free life, we add two or three items to these and relieve ourselves.
Kamran Safamanesh
In my view, Eisenman's speech, without containing any new point, is very beautiful, interesting, and valuable. This is because it shows the intellectual evolution of an architect.
Of course, one should not expect anything else from a hardworking and well-studied architect. This speech, despite the importance it has, should be considered a radical proposition. Mr. Falamaki referred to some of Eisenman's statements. It is worth mentioning in this context his conversation with Christopher Alexander, which is very significant and interesting because these two are at completely opposite intellectual poles. Over the years, I have been able to become more familiar with this person and to realize that, contrary to what I thought, he is one of the most professional, experienced, and knowledgeable architects who does not find it necessary to scatter himself intellectually. He does not need to uproot all issues related to technology and environmental matters, and in his chosen field, in which he is thoroughly expert, he works with focus. If we look at the film about the architect's role that was shown, we see that the rest of the tasks are performed by other professionals working on the team.
Another interesting point: in the 1970s, the idea that architecture was heading toward decline was very prevalent. The raising of the communication issue by our friend Dr. Falamaki is very relevant. In those same years, I too submitted my thesis on that topic, as a proposal on the phenomenon of communication or the global village. Dr. Falamaki remembers it. I am still working on it and believe that the foundation of everything is communication and it provides the ground for all transformations. Eisenman expresses this point in the most beautiful way and uses the September 11th event and the destruction of the World Trade Center towers most effectively to prove it. In another part, he addresses how the introduction of perspective by Brunelleschi changed the destiny of architecture.
According to Eisenman, the architect's work becomes problematic when image overtakes idea, and essentially the work of architects has become very difficult due to the entry of the media into the arena of construction. This is because it is the extraordinary power of information systems and the advanced technology of image-makers that engages in construction, and before we manage to build anything, everything becomes old and outdated.
Mr. Haeri pointed out that our architecture is at the lowest level due to the lack of ideas. But on the contrary, in my view, most of our students do have new ideas. For example, one of the students whose thesis I am supervising — and who is present here — has directed all their attention to creating spaces using media and what we call virtual reality.
Elsewhere, Eisenman says that architecture must return to a condition where nothing except the physical experience is at stake. Here, function, symbol, and image are not the issue. Eisenman, by proposing the physical experience, boldly introduces a new kind of architecture. Of course, a boldness grounded in accumulated knowledge.
In another place, he speaks of the ground and the site. In this very gathering, I know young people who have started their work with the site. The site became fashionable in universities for a while, to the extent that topography became the factor shaping the site. Of course, this work started earlier than Eisenman. In 1995, I had the opportunity to visit Cooper Union University in New York. At the invitation of Eisenman and Libeskind, I attended their classes. In his class, Eisenman was boldly presenting one of his ongoing projects in Geneva, which he had entered in a competition, as a class topic. One of the students had for the first time used a software inspired by the field of mechanics. At that time, this software was quite new to Eisenman, and I witnessed how he questioned the student about how the software worked. Now Eisenman himself works with this same tool. Since Eisenman and I were collaborating on a project in Geneva, when that student was radically transforming the terrain of the Geneva site using the software, Eisenman asked me to explain to the student that he could not touch even a tree without permission. Nevertheless, that student had gone beyond the defined boundaries — and this is nothing new.
The question of place is an interesting subject that Eisenman raises. In his view, the architectural site is not like a painter's canvas. Here, reference is made to the word palimpsest, which in English means a historical tablet that has been overwritten. This tablet differs from an ordinary tablet or manuscript page. In Eisenman's view, the ground resembles this tablet rather than a painter's canvas. In Isfahan, in the antique shops, they paint miniatures on the pages of old manuscripts and calligraphic texts. This work is also called palimpsest.
In his belief, the site possesses an inherent meaning. In some cases, when architects undertook strange works, I would ask them how they could commit such an encroachment on virgin ground where no one had built throughout the ages. But when we think of this tablet, we come to understand that sometimes one can erase the offenses and build something new — like Eisenman, who on a ground in Berlin that has been built upon again and again creates something that surpasses everything. He says: I am confronting this tablet and I only refer to that particular site and make it the main material of my work.
Whether we accept that one can use the site itself, its history, and its topography as a reference is another discussion. As Eisenman himself says, when working at the Jewish Museum or the Holocaust Museum, he wants to go beyond the boundaries of image. Because in his belief, those who perished in Hiroshima or in the Holocaust no longer exist to have memories. But those who witnessed the September 11th event from around the world do exist and have memories of it. He concentrates the difference between the present and the past here. Therefore, rebuilding the World Trade Center towers is completely different from executing a project like the Holocaust memorial.
If I find another opportunity to converse with Eisenman, I will certainly raise this point: that he too is not free from many matters. Because as he himself says, we architects view things from above and construct the image from there. I am certain that he too, especially regarding the Holocaust project, has an idea that is attached to the ground from above. However, how he justifies and procures his tools is at issue. I know this point: one cannot build merely by referring to the site and using software and the topography of the ground. Another issue arises here, which Eisenman himself refers to between the lines, and it pertains neither to function, nor to history, nor to image, nor to symbol, but to something beyond all of these — what he himself calls "something else." According to Eisenman, when we examine the works of Brunelleschi, Bramante, and others, function and symbol are not what matter to us. It is the physical experience that gains importance — the moment when experience is suddenly manifested in a building. Eisenman himself says: I don't build my building to look like an opera just because it is an opera.
What makes this "something else"? As we all know, in the arts, the entity that is greater than the algebraic sum is called gestalt. For example, consider a room where a group of musicians are playing different instruments. The algebraic sum of these sounds does not make a Chopin or Brahms piece. Just as the algebraic sum of meat, fried vegetables, and some oil does not make ghormeh sabzi. It is the gestalt combination of elements that creates it. In the world of gestalt, as they say, 2+2 is something more than 4. Therefore, "something else" is something beyond the algebraic sum, and according to Eisenman, nothing looks like anything else. So there is a space that exists beyond all of this. In fact, Eisenman avoids codification.
In the last term, we did an exercise with students in which they had to submit a project without mentioning name, date, memory, image, style, or form. They failed at everything they attempted and the project was rejected. But it was a very strange experience, and this exercise is in fact the same claim that Eisenman professes. I absolutely do not consider this experience new, because minimalist architects have paid attention to it, and I myself in my recent work, the House of Mowlana, did the same thing.
Eisenman raised a very interesting and good point: that we always understand history in relation to the future. Old and ancient experiences always give way to new ones, and I absolutely do not consider Eisenman's evolving experiences the last word. I think his experience and that of other modern architects leads us to a point where we realize that perhaps these arrivals and departures from references are a periodic and cyclical habit. But the attainment of the silent project is still the echo of something that has accompanied architects since the 18th century, and architects are seeking an answer to it. In this regard, the modern architecture movement was one of the very strong answers to this question, while the reversals of postmodern architecture and its repercussions have taken us away from it.
Babak Shokoufi
My discussion today is in fact a comparative discussion between two types of architectural literature that an architect uses in two different periods of his professional life, with a time gap of 15 years, and the importance of architecture's self-referentiality — referring to its own essence and nothing else outside its own domain — is the conclusion I pursue.
The day I first saw Eisenman's speech, apart from the important subjects he mentioned — including idea, ground, and mass media — two points caught my attention: one, architectural literature, and two, the design method that Eisenman described. I immediately began comparing these definitions in my mind with what I knew of Eisenman's architectural literature and design method. Perhaps you all know that Eisenman had a history of professional collaboration with a philosopher named Jacques Derrida and tried, with the cooperation of this philosopher, to manifest certain philosophical fragments — which perhaps cannot even be called a complete philosophical system — in his work. Or in other words, to create parallels of architecture in philosophy, or conversely, parallels of philosophy in architecture. The word palimpsest is a key word that Eisenman uses in his speech. This word is not new, nor is it being mentioned for the first time at the Berlin congress. Eisenman has used this word over the past 15 years to explain his projects.
Now I will address where and to what extent the application of this word has differed in each period. This word was in fact one of Derrida's favorite concepts. As was mentioned, a palimpsest can be overwritten over time, and one can write medieval texts in place of Greek texts that have been lost. At the same time, a palimpsest can be a metal commemorative plaque mounted on a building, which over time is overwritten as its inscriptions fade, or the back side is used for writing something else.
In 1985, Eisenman designed the Parc de la Villette project and entered its competition — and of course did not win. But in the idea he had submitted and in the model that exists, he had drawn inspiration from the concept of the tablet and intended to use this philosophical concept in architecture as well. Thus, he searched for ancient foundations in the ground to base a new architecture upon them. If we look at the model, part of the old fortification wall of Paris has been reconstructed in the lower portion of the model, although in fact that part of the ground never had the old Paris fortification. If I am not mistaken, the Parc de la Villette is located in eastern Paris, far from the section where the old fortification wall existed. In other words, Eisenman introduced and created an element solely to realize the concept of the tablet — one that had never existed at the La Villette park site.
Another example is a residential project, Block 5, near Checkpoint Charlie. This area was in fact the former American observation post, with the Soviet sector on one side and the American sector on the other — and is now a tourist area. The distinctive feature of this project is its windows, which have geometric shapes — a geometric form that has been rotated. Eisenman's explanation was that they searched for the 18th-century fortification wall but there was none. So they placed the 18th-century wall themselves, then the 19th-century fortification, and then built the building on top. This means forcing architecture to become referential to an element outside its own domain — namely, philosophy.
Now let us turn to the architectural literature Eisenman used today. He absolutely did not enter a domain outside architecture, space, and the tools that define space. Rather, he addressed topography — the lower and upper topographies connected by concrete columns — as well as the width of these columns. In the Frankfurt Biology Center project, he introduces the shape of a gene — an element outside the domain of architecture — as the subject for explaining his project. But this time, in this new project, he has repeated the old idea of the tablet with a real manifestation — that is, the lower topography actually existed. The ground was the site of camps and crematoriums that has now been leveled, and nothing remains but a gently sloping lawn — the same reality visible in Eisenman's project.
In this speech, Eisenman himself admits that he has no intention of symbolizing the Holocaust project — what he intended to do 15 years ago. Because, as he himself says, if he had tried to symbolize the Holocaust in any way possible, the symbol would never have had the power of the real image. So this time, he did not search the ground and did not try to artificially create the form of the Holocaust — what he had done with the La Villette and Checkpoint Charlie projects. This time, he simply placed the engraved side of the tablet, which actually existed in the real ground, as a second topography upon the first. In this case, Eisenman refers to space and the tools that define it, and creates a sensation similar to that of the victims of the crematoriums, who were unaware of their fate.
This subject — making architecture referential to something outside its own domain — is also visible in Iran. What Eisenman avoids after a serious transformation, in my view, there is no need for art in general and architecture in particular to be referential to philosophy or ideology. Because architecture is greater than ideology. The greater has no need to be referential to the lesser. Art comes into being before philosophy, not after it. In my belief, Eisenman is one of the most modern architects in the world.
Reza Daneshmir
Before anything else, I hope this discussion will continue and this session will not be the final one.
What I understood from this film can be summarized in three points raised by Eisenman. First, the disarmament of the architect or of architecture is a very important subject, and how one can confront it. Throughout, Eisenman explains that advertising media, given their production capacity, informational power, and direct influence, have drawn all attention toward themselves and left no room for the architect or architecture — and consequently, a solution must be devised. This problem exists for all of us, and currently, as students, architecture instructors, or professional architects, we have little capacity in advancing our goals and operate from a lowly position.
The second topic is the idea. My understanding of Eisenman's words is that the idea in the postmodern era is fundamentally different from the idea in the modern era. Here, Eisenman proposes the idea of the field against the modernist idea, which is based on placing an object on the ground.
And the third point is that electronic technology has solved the most important problem of modern architecture, namely organization. In my view, the foundation of modern architecture rests on the issue of function. That function is no longer the axis of architecture is not considered merely an artistic or intellectual gesture. In fact, according to Eisenman, new technology provides the possibility that through electronic communication, the need for the co-location of various spatial factors — which in the past was very important in modern architecture — is diminished, and architecture is approaching art. I did not fully understand this part of Eisenman's explanation. But in a general summary, one can say that there is an art branch called installation, and what Eisenman did in the cemetery is a kind of installation.
Shahab Katoozian
Eisenman is among the most modern architects in the world. Among the moderns, he is the most modern. He displaces and re-posits the new. Perhaps this is why it is said that in the last 20–30 years, any work inspired by Eisenman has been accepted. However, in the work we saw today, in my view, this has not happened, and the idea presented in it about the ground is not new.
In the maritime terminal project by Farshid Moussavi and Zaha Hadid, the ground has been used and spaces are created within layers. Therefore, this particular approach to the ground is not exclusive to Eisenman. Many architects have paid attention to it, including these two, who have produced a very original work. In the famous Esplanade project in Washington, too, this approach is visible. This project is a wall, in front of which a sunken surface has been created. When one enters it, one encounters the names of those killed in the Vietnam War, beginning with two names and continuing until, at the lowest point, one reaches 15 to 20 thousand names. Coming up from the other side, the numbers decrease again until reaching two names. In my belief, Eisenman has always wanted to play the leading role, and he has truly had an important role in the transformation of architecture. But in these last few years, I feel he no longer has the former power. Still, I expect him to regain that power.
Mohammad Reza Javadi
Today's gathering is not meant to repeat the subject of Eisenman's discussion. Rather, the goal is to understand what Eisenman is actually talking about. The issue is not one of good or bad. Although this comparison may seem irrelevant, in my view he is like Mowlavi — an extraordinarily great fabricator. In my belief, Eisenman is Eisenman precisely because 25 years ago he raised a subject but now says the opposite. Eisenman speaks of history — of a history that occupies only a few centimeters of his ground. Whereas we possess a much deeper history.
In my view, the subject Eisenman raises, and on the basis of which he sets aside all elements and focuses solely on the body, has been discussed in Iran long ago — the question of how the body is placed within architecture and how spaces are constructed. We have experienced all of this, but we have never committed it to paper and have never discussed it. What should be raised here is that Eisenman has constantly changed, just as the architecture of ancient lands has constantly changed. Here, a return to reference is at issue, and we can apply these points. But if we want to apply them on the basis of Eisenman's references, we may face limitations. We are like a spring that only compresses to jump — 30 to 40 years have passed but we have not yet jumped. The subject Mr. Falamaki raised but unfortunately was not continued: the discussion of the idea. How does an idea come about? When a question has been posed. But a question too arises only when the social structure is sound. In closing, I consider it essential to note that Eisenman's discussion is merely one link in a chain.