The cult of Steiner

     
The exhibition “Rudolf Steiner – Alchemy of the Everyday” at the Vitra Design Museum is the first major retrospective on the complex man who was all at once a writer, philosopher, sociologist, educator, architect, and artist. I don’t really know much about Steiner’s achievements in such different fields. So it’s a perfect chance for me to learn about his life and work and get a holistic view on the inception and progression of the whole anthroposophical movement that he started.

Worldview
The first room provides an overview of the context where Steiner’s worldview and artistic style were formed upon. Turning of the century, Goethe and German Idealism, late Romanticism and the advent of Modernism, the Lebensreform (“Life Reform”) social movement, etc. Josef Gočár’s desk clock is included as an example of Czech Cubist influence. And there’s a model of Bruno Taut’s Glass Pavilion to show the Durchgeistigung (spiritual permeation) idea of the German Werkbund. It was also the age of evolution theory, microscopy, and X-ray. Organic design works by Antoni Gaudí, Henry van de Velde, Richard Riemerschmid, and Hector Guimard are featured alongside Ernst Haeckel’s groundbreaking book Art Form in Nature published in 1904.

The first room: Context

Josef Gočár, desk clock, 1913

A print from Ernst Haeckel’s Art Form in Nature, 1904

In Steiner’s view, nature consists of four parts: a mineral world, a plant world, an animal world, and the human being. And the human being includes a physical body, an etheric (life) body, an astral (sentience) body, and the ego “I”. His 9m-high wooden sculpture The Representative of Humanity is the perfect illustration of this thinking. The Christ figure – the human existence with “the most sublime principle” – stands free in the center. He is surrounded by different distorted figures of Lucifer and Ahriman – light and dark devils that represent the two polarized traits of our lives. Christ’s gesture with one arm raised and the other lowered suggests an inner state of consciousness, a balanced existence between Luciferic frenzy and Ahrimanic tedium, between expansive pride and contractive insecurity.

A miniature of The Representative of Humanity (1917-25) on show

The anthroposophical society
The anthroposophical approach had influence in many areas of social lives, including education, agriculture, medicine, and social finance.

Steiner founded the Waldorf schools, a pedagogy based on his child development theory and education principles outlined in The Education of the Child in the Light of Anthroposophy in 1907. The approach follows an interdisciplinary curriculum according to “epochs” rather than subjects. It emphasizes the role of imagination and the arts, integrating knowledge with creativity. In 1919, the first Waldorf school was founded to serve the children of employees at the Waldorf-Astoria cigarette factory in Stuttgart. Now there are more than 1,000 Waldorf schools around the world and it has become the second largest group of private schools just after parochial schools.

Anthroposophical farms practice biodynamic agriculture, which sees the soil, plants, and animals as a self-sustaining system. One of the key elements is the exclusion of chemical fertilizers or pesticides. Preparations are made with extracts of certain substances, and their efficacy is enhanced by the observation of cyclic rhythms in nature. This method recognizes and supports natural energy and mechanisms of a healthy balance, and links back to the fundamental worldview of Steiner’s anthroposophy.

It gets a bit more cult-like when it comes to anthropological medicine. The approach incorporated some aspects of homeopathy but defined itself as an extension of mainstream academic medicine. Steiner adhered to Paracelsus’s principle of similitude (“like cures like”): “a poison in the body would be cured by a similar poison.” He was convinced that certain methods could be used to extract the active ingredient from a substance and successively dilute it until a “spirit-like essence” remains (“potentiation”). Yet again, all this has its anthroposophical roots: it is a holistic medical discipline where etheric and astral bodies must be taken into account.

The central social concept of anthroposophy is social threefolding, laid out with a series of essays in The Renewal of the Social Organism (1919-20). The theory suggests a threefold social order: economical, political, and cultural; and the three realms should be relatively independent to form a mechanism where they can mutually correct each other in an ongoing process. Steiner believed that it could be “a third way” between capitalism and socialism. Joseph Beuys’s blackboards installation is featured as a sample artwork that was inspired by this theory of a new society.

Joseph Beuys, Directional Forces, 1977

Art and design
Steiner’s contribution to art was far more than just inspirations. He was himself an artist (as sculptor of The Representative of Humanity) and invented a performing art form called eurythmy. As the Greek root of the name suggests, this expressive movement art emphasizes on the beauty of harmony, both between the performers and the audience and within the performers themselves. It was widely taught at the Waldorf schools as well as performed on stage.

An installation explaining the stage composition of an eurythmy performance

Eurythmy reminds me of Loïe Fuller. In fact, the same fluid language was “frozen” in the form of stage set for one of Steiner’s four mystery dramas, The Guardian of the Threshold. The organic waves created a landscape of spirit and fantasies.

The Guardian of the Threshold, Scene VI (The Spirit World), 1937

Steiner also worked with scientists on geometric research to develop crystalline structures, which became an important part of the so-called “anthroposophical style.” Examples include Carl Kemper’s platonic solids series (1930s) and Paul Schatz’s Oloid discovered in 1929. It reminds me of Olafur Eliasson’s structural studies. The curator obviously also sensed the similarity and included Eliasson’s Before the star lamp in the show.

A showcase with Carl Kemper’s platonic solids (left) and Paul Schatz’s Oloid (far right)

In order to have a headquarters for anthroposophy and a center dedicated to the spiritual sciences and all art forms, Steiner began to build the first Goetheanum in Dornach, Switzerland in 1913. Named after Goethe, the timber-concrete structure opened in 1920, but was soon destroyed by arson on New Year's Eve 1922/23. Right after the accident, Steiner set out to design a second Goetheanum, this time completely made of reinforced concrete (15,000 m3). Construction finished in 1928, after Steiner’s death. It was the first large-scale building to use concrete for such a sculptural form. In the center is a large auditorium with a 30m span that can house 1,000 visitors for eurythmy and mystery dramas performances.

The second Goetheanum, 1923-28

The Organic-Expressionist style is similar to that of Gaudí, Erich Mendelsohn, and Wenzel Hablik. In Dornach, Steiner also designed about a dozen other buildings, including Duldeck House (1915-18), De Jaager House (1921-22), Eurythmeum (1927), and two utility facilities: a boiler house (1913-15) and a transformer house (1921) – all with expressive forms.

Models, with the boiler house (1913-15) on the right

Models, with the transformer house (1921) in the front

As I walk through the exhibition, a voice keeps whispering to me: “you have to go to Dornach.” I am sure it will be totally worth the trip. I will definitely report more after that. Till then...
To be continued...
   

Just the little things

Once again, Denmark has been rated the world’s happiest country. This time, it’s a report claimed to be the first ever official study, commissioned by the UN and published by Columbia University’s Earth Institute. Before this, the Gallup World Poll released data in 2010 ranking Denmark the happiest country among the 155 surveyed. In 2008, the World Values Survey by the US National Science Foundation also put Denmark on the top of their most content nations list. And back in 2007, surveys done by Cambridge University and Leicester University both agreed that the Danes are the happiest people on earth.

One can easily give several reasons for this. The Danes are quite wealthy, living in a secure society with almost zero crime and corruption. They grow up with good health care and education systems (they get paid to go to school). After graduation, they work only 37 hours a week (Mon-Thu 7.5 + Fri 7), with 5 weeks of paid vacation per year.

Good systems build up a more civilized society, but they don’t guarantee personal happiness, which is more a subjective emotion or attitude. “It’s probably because we have very low expectations,” my Danish friend Goldie told me. “When it rains, we simply shrug our shoulders. When the sun comes out, we’ll say, ‘wow, this is really amazing!’” Take a look at some of the questions asked by the Gallup Poll: Did you enjoy something you did yesterday? Were you proud of something you did yesterday? Did you learn something yesterday? I guess at the end, it all comes down to the little things people experience every day.

If you are not expecting much, many little things in your life can be wonderful. For the Danes, a few drinks with friends, a sausage on the street, or a dinner with family is enough to make a joyful day. They are proud of their lives and proud of what they have: Danish pastry, Carlsberg, Tivoli, Hans Christian Andersen, Georg Jensen, Arne Jacobsen, Poul Henningsen, Queen Margrethe, Lars von Trier (maybe until Cannes 2011), and Daniel Agger’s tattoos. They joke about the little mermaid being super tiny, but deep down, they love her as the romantic symbol of the kingdom. There are millions of bikes in Copenhagen. If this simple vehicle can take you around perfectly, who needs the newest model of Chevy SUV?

The Danes can find “hygge” in the dark and cold winters through the soft glow of a simple Le Klint lampshade, or the balmy smell of a candle. When summer comes, Copenhageners strip and lie down naturally on the waterfront deck in the middle of the city, sunbathing. Not far from the boardwalk, the Harbor Bath is certainly one of the most popular urban hang-out in the city.

Oh yeah, the Harbor Bath. You know Bjarke. He is so typically Danish and looks always so happy. He acts like a kid, easily psyched about simple, straight-forward, and sometimes even stupid ideas. He has this charisma that can convince anybody that architecture is in fact very simple and fun.

If life is all so simple and beautiful, why do we need ambitions? Georg Jensen and Arne Jacobsen gave their answers through quality: design with close attention down to a single screw or a door knob. Bjarke seems to believe in quantity: do a competition every week and you may win every month. Either way, the little moments of simple pleasure could lead to greater joy at the end.

From Neues Museum to Neue Nationalgalerie

   
The Prussian Cultural Heritage Foundation recently announced that David Chipperfield won the contract to renovate the New National Gallery at the Kulturforum in Berlin. Hermann Parzinger, President of the Prussian Cultural Heritage Foundation, stated: “I am confident that with David Chipperfield, this icon of modern architecture is in good hands. In our work together on the Museum Island, I greatly appreciated his sensitivity to historic architecture and the conceptual clarity of his approach.”

I agree that Chipperfield showcased his refined sensibilities and did a great job in the restoration of the Neues Museum. When I visited the building, I was fascinated by the grand but appropriate new gestures, the subtle repair of details, the elegant co-existence of old and new...

From the Vestibule to the Staircase Hall

The Staircase Hall

The Mythological Room

The Medieval Room

The Room of the Niobids with beautiful bowstring girders

The Modern Room

Small transitional space covered with copper

The Majolika Room

The Western Art Chamber

The Egyptian Court

Upper access to the Egyptian Court

The Egyptian Court: “structure within structure”

The Greek Court remains full height

But still, the news about the New National Gallery troubles me deeply. Winning a Mies van der Rohe Award doesn’t give you the right to mess around with a Mies building. The Friedrich Stüler Neues Museum is more than 150 years old now, and it has suffered severe bomb damage during WWII. What’s wrong with the New National Gallery? It was only built in 1968. According to the announcement, the following measures are planned: “the renovation of all the building’s structural elements (steel supports, reinforced concrete, steel and glass façade), the restoration of visible surfaces (stone, terrace), the replacement of security and fire protection equipment, the updating and preservation of all visible fixtures (lighting etc.) and the administration rooms, along with the restoration of existing furniture. Furthermore, the coat check, museum shop and café will be updated to meet current museum standards.”

It is this “furthermore” that frightens me. Does it mean there will be a gift shop and a café on the ground floor? Are they commercializing a space of the ultimate sublime? The vast empty lobby is the best example of the Miesian “Universal Space” concept. It is meant to be completely open and remain undefined. Any specific program would ruin the idea. I really hope the shop and café stay in the basement. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Chipperfield was appointed Director of the upcoming Venice Biennale. I like the title “Common Ground” he chose, which celebrates at this right moment an interconnected architectural culture and encourages sharing, collaboration, and dialogue. I hope he finds common ground with Mies and maintains the original purity and spirit of the New National Gallery. Restoration work will begin in 2015 and conclude in 2018, and the gallery will be closed during those three years. I’d better go see it again before it risks being turned into something else.

Doghouse, keys, remote, and Prada

       
This is probably the best Frank Lloyd Wright story I’ve ever heard. A 12-year-old boy Jim Berger from San Anselmo, CA asked FLW if he would design a home for his black Labrador, Eddie. “I would appreciate it if you would design me a doghouse, which would be easy to build, but would go with our house...,” read the letter dated June 19, 1956. “[My dog] is two and a half feet high and three feet long. The reasons [sic] I would like this doghouse is for the winters mainly.” And he mentioned to pay with the money he made from his paper route. FLW was quite busy with the Guggenheim at that time, but he did eventually send drawings to the boy 5 months later, free of charge.

Jim Berger’s letter asking FLW to design a doghouse

FLW’s response

The fact that somebody like FLW would agree and actually designed a doghouse for some 12-year-old kid is amazing. By “someone like FLW,” I don’t mean “the greatest architect of all time” as some others think. I’m talking about a famous but self-centered, arrogant, cunning, and ingratiating old man. Ken Burns, who made a documentary on Wright for PBS, called him a schmuck. Lewis Mumford described that “he lived from first to last like a God, one who acts but is not acted upon.” When questioned about his vanity, FLW justified himself by saying: “Early in life I had to choose between honest arrogance and hypocritical humility; I chose honest arrogance.” Once while testifying in court, FLW referred to himself as the world’s greatest architect. Asked later how he could make such an excessive claim, he replied, “Well, I was under oath, wasn’t I?”

FLW saw Le Corbusier as a rival. He called the Villa Savoye “a box on stilts.” When Corb was in Chicago, FLW declined to meet the visitor from Paris. On the other hand, Corb himself also had a rather difficult and controversial personality. Nicholas Fox Weber, author of Le Corbusier: A Life, used contradictory words to describe him: compassionate, arrogant, generous, selfish, Calvinist, hedonistic, proud, enraged, ecstatic, sad, provocative, unique. When Corb went to America, he wanted to dominate the design board for the new UN headquarters, and eventually got into a power fight with Wally Harrison. Corb’s relationships with clients often ended badly. He was not very kind to his own employees either, even people like Iannis Xenakis, who contributed greatly on fantastic design of the Philips Pavilion and La Tourette. Corb started to dislike Xenakis after he found out that Xenakis had kept direct contact with a client without his permission. One summer when Xenakis went back to the office after vacation, he found the lock had changed. Shortly after, he received a letter from Corb which begins, “Modern architecture triumphs in France; it has been adapted. Today you may find a field of application for everything which you have acquired by yourself as well as through your work with me.”

This reminds me of how Steve Jobs treated Wozniak. After leaving Apple, Woz decided to start a company to make a universal remote control that he had invented. He approached frogdesign, a California-based company who also did design work for Apple, to design his device. But Jobs stretched all his power to make sure it didn’t happen. He told the Wall Street Journal, “We don’t want to see our design language used on other products. Woz has to find his own resources. He can’t leverage off Apple’s resources; we can’t treat him specially.” Woz was not the only victim. Walter Isaacson wrote that Jobs was “frequently obnoxious, rude, selfish, and nasty to other people.” Even his old lover Tina Redse complained that it was incredibly painful to “be in love with someone so self-centered.” She read a psychiatric manual about Narcissistic Personality Disorder and decided that Jobs met perfectly all the criteria. In the office, he was mean and abusive, super hard to work with. He would “introduce tension, politics, and hassles,” with a mood swing that “resembles a high-voltage alternating current.” He was prone to tell people they were “dumb shit” and what they had done looked like shit. At the same time he was also a master of manipulation. Once you fall into his “reality distortion field,” you would be easily encouraged to work your ass off for him. Most of the Mac team, for example, got extremely burnt out at the end, and some even went schizo.

Many architectural offices also have the reputation of over-working people, and OMA is probably the most notorious. Rem would call up his staff in the middle of the night asking for design updates, just because he was bored in the hotel room in a different time zone. It’s so hard to get him for meetings that the teams had to rent a conference room at the airport and meet him there. But there was no guarantee that he would show up. For the times he did come, he might cut you off in the middle of the sentence and said, “How can you be so fucking stupid? I have a plane to catch.” I remember when I visited the OMA Rotterdam office, people got so nervous when someone said “Jesus is coming!” It reminded me of the scene in The Devil Wears Prada when Meryl Streep walks in the office. Well, Rem wears Prada as well.

I keep asking myself: does one really need to be either a psycho or an asshole to excel in creativity? Are those callous behaviors natural companions to fame and success? A friend said he did not mind arrogance as long as the person had real talent. Another friend said it was just a way for them to get things done. I guess if you look at it positively, you will find words like confident, passionate, decisive, persuasive, and efficient. Just that they have pushed it too hard that it appears as cocky, stubborn, controlling, manipulative, and cold-blooded.

I live in a modernist apartment building, reading the biographies on my iPad, and posting this text with a Mac. At the end, the asshole personalities of these stars are transcended by the brilliance they’ve left us. As said in the “Think Different” ad, “the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”
       

LEGO architecture

   
Architects love to claim that they liked playing with LEGO when they were kids. But it was not until the launch of the LEGO Architecture line in 2009 that LEGO finally acknowledged its relationship with architecture officially.

The Architecture product line has an “Architect series” and a “Landmark series.” Two Frank Lloyd Wright buildings – Guggenheim and Fallingwater – made it in the first batch in 2009. Robie House was added in 2011, making FLW the highest scoring architect in the LEGO family. SOM has two, but it’s strange that Burj Khalifa is put in the “Architect” category while the Willis Tower (formerly Sears Tower) is in “Landmark.” There is an obvious geographical bias in the selection. Only 3 out of all 12 buildings are located outside of the US, including the latest addition Jørn Utzon’s Sydney Opera House, revealed at the end of last month.

LEGO Architecture: Architect Series

LEGO Architecture: Landmark Series

Starting in September last year, fans were able to vote and tell LEGO which architectural icon should be the next LEGO set. It was announced on Thursday that the winner of round one was Habitat 67 in Montreal, designed by Moshe Safdie. I think the reason it beat the Gherkin and Taipei 101 is that the building reflects perfectly the philosophy of LEGO: a modular system with standard building blocks. But the official website says, “it takes more than popularity to make the grade as a LEGO Architecture icon.” Of course they need to see what makes more money. Now the second round of “Inspire and Vote” has started. Leading the poll at the moment is Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia. I have no idea how LEGO can pull that off. Sydney Opera House already looks super clumsy, with all the awkwardly curved pieces that make up the roofs. How could they get Sagrada Familia right? I say they should just build Kisho Kurokawa’s Nakagin Capsule Tower. It’s very LEGO-friendly, and Rem would be the first to buy it.

Habitat 67: winner of the “Inspire and Vote” Round 1

For Round 2: Which one is more LEGO-like?

Although the LEGO Architecture line is designed in the US, LEGO in general is still a Danish national pride. BIG (of course) created LEGO Towers in 2007, a proposal for a residential, retail and hotel development in Copenhagen. They spent five weeks to literally build a 1:50 model out of 250,000 LEGO Bricks. It was exhibited in the “BIG: CPH Experiment” show at the Storefront of Art and Architecture in New York.

BIG’s LEGO Towers at Storefront

KRADS is another young architecture office in Denmark who have set up various “Playtime” workshops to explore fundamental architectural principles through LEGO Bricks. Recently, they collaborated with Miny Maas in the studio “EuroHigh” at The Why Factory, asking students to use 1 million LEGO Bricks in search for an “ultimate European skyscraper.” 676 models at 1:1000 scale were displayed in the Oostserre of TU Delft as the results of mid-term review – a grid of 26 linear iterations that extensively catalogue the formal impacts of tweaking certain parameters. They look fun and rigorous at the same time: a systematic adventure with a systematic toy.

I feel that the architects’ experiments with the LEGO Brick are more true to the original LEGO logic. Instead of constrained by the specific pieces and aiming at the only way of assemblage, they utilize standard yet flexible building blocks and let the solution fly with imagination. Even just two Bricks give 24 different combinations, no to mention when you have 1 million of them. Why do we need a specific set for Habitat 67 or the Capsule Tower anyways?