Brasilia: architecture&national identity
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international style
critical regionalism
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Critical Regionalism:
a strategy for achieving a more humane architecture in the face of universally held abstractions and international clichés.
Coined by Alexander Tzonis and Liane Lefaivre in 1981, the term was seized upon by Kenneth Frampton, who argued that architects should seek regional variations in their buildings instead of continuing to design in a style of global uniformity using ‘consumerist iconography masquerading as culture’, and should ‘mediate the impact’ of universal civilization with themes drawn indirectly from the individual ‘peculiarities of a particular place’.
While appreciating the dangers of industrialization and technology, he did not advocate revivals of either the great historical styles or vernacular type of building. In essence, he sought the deconstruction of global Modernism, criticized post-Modernism for reducing architecture to a mere ‘communicative or instrumental sign’, and proposed the introduction of alien paradigms to the indigenous genius loci.
He cited the work of Aalto and Utzon as offering examples of Critical Regionalism in which the local and the general were synthesized.
Critical analysis of K.Frampton's "Towards a Critical Regionalism" by Scott Paterson here.
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One of my favourite 'critical regionists' and propagators of modernism is Luis Barragan.
Barragán transformed International Style into a vibrant, sensuous Mexican aesthetic by adding vivid colours and textural contrasts and accentuating his buildings' natural surroundings. He once said that light and water were his favourite themes, and soon became skilled at manipulating them both in buildings like the 1966 Folke Egerstrom House and Stables built around a brightly coloured, sculptural sequence of horse pools (Barragán loved horse riding):
and the 1975-77 Francisco Gilardi House framing an indoor pool:
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"Any work of architecture which does not express serenity is a mistake."
Luis Barragan's architecture is poetic. His work is personal and introverted, constructed from experiences, dreams, and memories (especially of his childhood in hazienda in Mazamitla).
His houses are monastic in spirit and provide a refuge from contemporary life. The closely integrated interior and exterior spaces, surrounded by walls create a private and serene environment. Window sizes are limited except when facing a private courtyard, with its pool and fountain.
As Barragan explained:
"Architecture, besides being spatial, is also musical. That music is played with water. The importance of walls is that they isolate one from the street’s exterior space. The street is aggressive, even hostile: walls create silence. From that silence you can play with water as music. Afterwards, that music surrounds us."
The wall is the most Mexican of building elements, and with Barragan it receives a new expression, becoming a sculpture: plastic and monumental. Doors, windows, and other interruptions of the wall surface are placed with the utmost deliberation: the interior is systematically unveiled as the visitor progresses from space to space, creating a sort of "architectural striptease."
Barragan was a master of light: by careful placement of windows and spatial openings, he controlled the amount, direction and colour of light, softening harsh bright daylight and opening up to filtered warm green from the garden:
Through his carreer, Luis Barragan has discovered his country. His architecture can be seen as a distillation of the proportions and details of old Mexican colonial convents, monasteries, and haciendas.Barragan's palette was made of the vibrant hues of Mexican traditional clothing and festivals: yellows, pinks, reds, and purples. His most characteristic decorative motifs were also drawn from life: groupings of giant pulque fermenting pots on patios
.JPG)
and colored, mirrored balls which had originally hung inside nineteenth-century pulquerías (liquor stores). They appeared in symbolic clusters on Barragán’s coffee tables.
Brasilia by Oscar Niemeyer
Critical Regionalism:
a strategy for achieving a more humane architecture in the face of universally held abstractions and international clichés.
Coined by Alexander Tzonis and Liane Lefaivre in 1981, the term was seized upon by Kenneth Frampton, who argued that architects should seek regional variations in their buildings instead of continuing to design in a style of global uniformity using ‘consumerist iconography masquerading as culture’, and should ‘mediate the impact’ of universal civilization with themes drawn indirectly from the individual ‘peculiarities of a particular place’.
While appreciating the dangers of industrialization and technology, he did not advocate revivals of either the great historical styles or vernacular type of building. In essence, he sought the deconstruction of global Modernism, criticized post-Modernism for reducing architecture to a mere ‘communicative or instrumental sign’, and proposed the introduction of alien paradigms to the indigenous genius loci.
He cited the work of Aalto and Utzon as offering examples of Critical Regionalism in which the local and the general were synthesized.
Critical analysis of K.Frampton's "Towards a Critical Regionalism" by Scott Paterson here.
+
One of my favourite 'critical regionists' and propagators of modernism is Luis Barragan.
Barragán transformed International Style into a vibrant, sensuous Mexican aesthetic by adding vivid colours and textural contrasts and accentuating his buildings' natural surroundings. He once said that light and water were his favourite themes, and soon became skilled at manipulating them both in buildings like the 1966 Folke Egerstrom House and Stables built around a brightly coloured, sculptural sequence of horse pools (Barragán loved horse riding):
and the 1975-77 Francisco Gilardi House framing an indoor pool:
.jpg)
The key principle to Barragan's buildings was serenity:
Luis Barragan's architecture is poetic. His work is personal and introverted, constructed from experiences, dreams, and memories (especially of his childhood in hazienda in Mazamitla).
His houses are monastic in spirit and provide a refuge from contemporary life. The closely integrated interior and exterior spaces, surrounded by walls create a private and serene environment. Window sizes are limited except when facing a private courtyard, with its pool and fountain.
As Barragan explained:
"Architecture, besides being spatial, is also musical. That music is played with water. The importance of walls is that they isolate one from the street’s exterior space. The street is aggressive, even hostile: walls create silence. From that silence you can play with water as music. Afterwards, that music surrounds us."
The wall is the most Mexican of building elements, and with Barragan it receives a new expression, becoming a sculpture: plastic and monumental. Doors, windows, and other interruptions of the wall surface are placed with the utmost deliberation: the interior is systematically unveiled as the visitor progresses from space to space, creating a sort of "architectural striptease."
Barragan was a master of light: by careful placement of windows and spatial openings, he controlled the amount, direction and colour of light, softening harsh bright daylight and opening up to filtered warm green from the garden:
Through his carreer, Luis Barragan has discovered his country. His architecture can be seen as a distillation of the proportions and details of old Mexican colonial convents, monasteries, and haciendas.Barragan's palette was made of the vibrant hues of Mexican traditional clothing and festivals: yellows, pinks, reds, and purples. His most characteristic decorative motifs were also drawn from life: groupings of giant pulque fermenting pots on patios
.JPG)
and colored, mirrored balls which had originally hung inside nineteenth-century pulquerías (liquor stores). They appeared in symbolic clusters on Barragán’s coffee tables.
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