Bruno Krucker, partner of the Zurich bureau von Ballmoos Krucker Architekten, visited Moscow in connection with the exhibition "Swiss Villages" held in the Central House of Artists as part of the Arch of Moscow and the 5th Moscow Biennale of Architecture. Exhibition curators - Elena Kosovskaya and Yuri Palmin, exhibition architects - Kirill Ass and Nadezhda Korbut, graphic design - groza.design. The exhibition was carried out with the support of the Pro Helvetia Foundation and the Meganom Project architectural bureau.
Archi.ru:
In the announcement for the exhibition “Swiss Villages” there is a quote from the architectural journalist Axel Simon: “The architecture of the bureau von Ballmoos Krucker can hardly be called“soulful”. I understand that these are too loud words, and, as it seems to me, it is not at all a matter of sincerity, but - in order not to mislead anyone - I want to ask you to explain what is the peculiarity of your architecture, and, why do you think she didn't please someone?
Bruno Krucker:
- It's not that flattering remark, but I heard something similar before (smiles). The thing is that, compared to other Swiss architects, we are less focused on the "perfect detail", preferring the tectonics and materiality of the object as a whole. We can say that our architecture is tougher than others, it can even be called brutal. Brutalism is a fundamental term, since it was this direction in architecture of the 1950s - 1970s that influenced our philosophy and perception of the profession. My fascination with brutalism began in my student years, and ten years ago I did a study of the works of Alison and Peter Smithson ["Komplexe Gewöhnlichkeit - Der Upper Lawn Pavillon von Alison und Peter Smithson", 2002] and finally became convinced of my preferences.
At the end of the lecture at the MARCH school, Evgeny Ass asked you to outline the purpose of your practice, list the techniques and methods that have been assigned to you, and it seemed to me that you were a little embarrassed. What is the reason for your doubts?
- I am not a chatty one, and it is rather difficult for me to answer such questions. This is similar to how children ask what and why. Such questions are discouraging and you are never, by and large, ready for them. It seems to me that my architecture strives to be real, unadorned, involved in many life processes - familiar to everyone. First of all, it is necessary to pay tribute to the most common, everyday processes that affect the way of life, and only in this way you will understand where to put the table, sofa, bed or toilet. After all, architecture is a background for life. And you, as a viewer, do not notice all the complexity of the spatial structure, do not understand the interdependence of structural elements, it does not matter to you a little more, a little less this column pitch, or not. Once, well-known to you Elena Kosovskaya, one of the curators of the exhibition, even called this my desire "a craving for ugliness" (laughs).
Book Thinking Architecture [“Reflecting on Architecture”] Peter Zumthor begins with a short passage, where the author talks about childhood memories as the strongest impulses that influenced his further perception of architecture. Do you have any similar stories?
- I don't have such powerful stories like Peter's (smiles). But there were a number of events thanks to which I realized what it is - my architecture. While I was a student, Analogue Architecture was gaining momentum, enjoying amazing popularity among my fellow students, among whom was the notorious Valerio Olghati, who then assumed the role of some kind of "guru" in the student community. I watched this flow from the side, not that I would deny it, rather, I tried to find something of my own. At the same time, Herzog and de Meuron actively began their work, the ideas of which stemmed from a constructive system with an unexpected combination of materials. Without hiding, I can say that they greatly influenced me.
It was a pivotal moment in Swiss architecture, so refined, with great attention to detail, so clean and sterile it was maddening. The Swiss context can be contrasted with the Russian, chaotic, disorderly, a little neglected. In the early 1980s, we realized that this purity was enough for us, and we were inspired by the experience of the “elders”, wooden houses that a priori could not be ideal. We were kind of provocateurs. For example, the Stoeckenacker residential complex in Zurich, one of our first projects, was and remains radical not only for the architectural community.
Who for you acted as a kind of "point supports"Maybe even a mentor? Is it necessary to refer to the experience of predecessors in the framework of architectural education?
- When I just started, I was delighted to study the works of Miroslav Shik. Many of my friends fell under his influence, they did amazing projects, but they never showed their "foothold", hiding that they referenced existing buildings. Now the situation is diametrically opposite. Valerio Olghati has filled his website with many inspiring photographs, and has assembled a collection of [The Images of Architects] of "fulcrum" of famous Swiss architects. This topic is extremely relevant. Back in 2009, my colleague Thomas von Balmoos and I made an exhibition "Bauten und Spekulationen / Buildings and Discourses" in Berlin dedicated to this topic. Inside the Aedes gallery, we made a pavilion from OSB, where we hung our sketches, works, as well as copies of images that influenced us.
Links are very important because they facilitate communication between living architects in many ways. If one of the students or young employees does not understand what I want to say, then I set an example, everything is simple.
When working with links, you need to understand that this is not a direct quote, free of context. You need to rethink what you saw, and not copy it cleanly, there is no point in showing Palladio's villa, they say, look who I'm talking to, here it is, my "fulcrum", as if it is more important than what you answer. Although, unfortunately, students, like a fairly large percentage of successful professionals, parasitize at receptions, and sometimes even repeat the objects of world architecture, in fact, without investing anything of their own in them. This is incomprehensible to the mind. It may be less obvious in my constructions, but if you look closely, you will see this timeless connection with many fundamental sources.
There is a whole universe of important things: the Smithsons, Pouillon, Alejandro de la Sota, whose work I met in my academic career at the age of thirty (and my colleague, the founder of the bureau, Thomas von Balmoos, even worked with him), Canadian artist David Rabinovich, aware of amazing flat compositions, rethinking concepts - division and distance of perception. And, of course, cinema, I am crazy about Antonioni, there was a year when I lived in Paris, during which I watched, if not all, then most of the geniuses of world cinema. The choice of a "fulcrum" is determined by the project, typology, form, material, etc., sometimes we even refer to the positive experience of our current and prosperous colleagues (he smiles). The "fulcrum" is your background, in contact with which you create something of your own. It seems to me that every architect should bite into the world around him, into how others have tried and are still trying to create something, explain. This is a kind of professional continuity.
Within the framework of the exhibition, your project of the Trimli residential complex was named by the curators "Model for Assembly", based on the work of Julio Cortazar. But let's not talk about the book, in your projects you often use the panel, but the panel is a unified industrial-scale object, global in nature, in your case it becomes unique. Does this mean something local, that you are flirting with the global, giving rise to new interpretations?
- It all started with this, but what we came to can be called specific rather than local - in the good sense of the word. For example, "Trimli" is a reflection on the "repetition" of doors, windows, apartment typologies. At the same time, it is important to understand that each time you bend the shape, you change the typology, making it unique in its essence. The same happens with the grid of the house, which can hardly be called regular, and indeed the grid in general, this is some kind of rational order, but it tends to be artistic rather than technogenic. This is not a monotonous endless façade; it contains a series of repetitive steps that create a special rhythm that is both the rule and the exception. A book written by the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze "Difference and Repetition", which raises questions about the essence of diversity, inherent in, at first glance, the same things, which gives a little structuralism, but at the same time this idea is completely impresses, how “words” with the same spelling have different meanings depending on their position in the context. I would like to believe that my architecture speaks of something similar, since I am interested in rethinking dogmas - elements, modules, the same notorious grids. Most of the typical houses are the result of industrialization, where the architect-designer wanted to calculate everything. For example, the once popular Ernst Neufert simplified the understanding of the design process to the impossible. I’m not that I’m a fighter with technocratic thought, rather, I’m not a supporter of architecture unification, but I don’t accept Superstudio methods either, they are too far from reality. Returning to the question, I would not say that our method speaks of some kind of locality, rather, it focuses on the features of the area, its specifics.
You use mesh and building material like gestalt. Do I understand correctly that the joining between the blocks is an important part of your tectonic perception of architecture?
- The joy of recognition is an important part of the game. Any material has constructive, cultural and aesthetic features, based on which you begin to shape architecture, laying it out into elements. There is an unbreakable bond between the material and the structural mesh. Our tool is a concrete block. But our typical element is not that rectangular panel with an opening for a window, which is ubiquitous in Moscow, does not react in any way to the constructive system and the opening, it is a visually rich block that has its own individual place in a combination, albeit not man-made, but hand-made. the nature of its creation. Some of these blocks carry the same gestalt, seem to be something taken for granted on the far periphery of consciousness, for example, there is a separate block, a window lintel, which creates a sense of security, understandable to any, even an unprepared viewer. Consequently, the panel becomes the result of something more than soulless stamping. In turn, the panel itself in the mind of the consumer is a sign referring to a specific time, a sign that I try to interpret, revealing the properties of the material. Concrete must remain concrete regardless of the processing method and pigmentation, it is an archetypal material that is almost unaffected by aging. But, undoubtedly, there are other examples, which in their structure and "assembly model" can be easily called tectonic.
Speaking about other examples, why not a brick, in the nature of which modularity was originally laid? Why reinvent the wheel?
- The thing is that in Zurich there is no tradition of working with bricks, this is something not ours, it is used quite rarely, and it is also expensive. We did a few brick objects though. I respect brick, perhaps this is how Stephen Bates, my English colleague, influenced me. But, understand, for England, Holland or Belgium - this is a classic material, the work with which has formed a powerful cultural layer.
And on top of that, brick implies a certain scale that we cannot afford. You select material to meet many requirements, but it is important to understand that each joint requires separate attention, regardless of its materiality. You cannot build a 100-meter brick facade, since there are a huge number of design features dictated by the material itself, you need expansion joints with a certain pitch, etc. Rather, not so, you can, of course, but why injure the building, why kill the integrity, the very essence of this material. In my lecture, I showed the Kai Fisker building in Copenhagen, which is huge in size, but, unfortunately, no one is building this way anymore.
Despite the high standard of living in Switzerland, there is a bunker in every house (and this despite the fact that you did not participate in the world wars). The bunker is a powerful archetype, a part of your mentality that speaks of security, it is a refuge, something similar I feel in relation to the modernist post-war hyper-structures of Fernand Pouillon, something similar slips into your work. Can we say that your architecture appeals to this image, is this connection actually present?, or is this my speculation?
- Perhaps this connection is not accidental, but maybe it is a little exaggerated by you, since in our practice we shift the emphasis from the phenomenological component towards real life, but speaking of integrity, tectonics, you are absolutely right. The buildings of Fernand Pouillon are downright screaming about security, they are chambered, independent structures, with the joining of facades on boulders. These buildings are amazing in their atmosphere, which is directly related to how they age. For example, his famous building in Algeria, Climat de France, is currently "settled down" by local users in a completely different way than the author would like it to be, but its architecture is so strong that "unauthorized" filling of colonnades, any kind of bricolage, is in no way could harm her. Therefore, I also try to be more diplomatic towards the inhabitants of my architecture, allowing them to "master" their objects, all the time scrolling in my head the words of Luigi Snozzi, the father of Ticino architecture: "You must create buildings that will die with dignity." I would like to believe that any of our buildings will be just a delightful ruin (smiles). We try to make the structure as flexible as possible for life, assuming that in the near future it will be rebuilt, because you must perceive architecture not only at the moment of its birth. For example, we made a project for a nursing home, where the structure initially provides a field for activity, without insisting on any specific scenario. Up to a certain point, for this typology, it was customary to install load-bearing walls between each room, which complicated the renovation process, so many of these buildings of the 1960s are being demolished due to irrelevance, as the standard of living has changed a lot.
But is it bad that the architect insists: either so, or demolish? The House of Vanna Venturi was put up for sale, what happens if the future owner suddenly wants to redo something there?
- Why not? (laughs) Of course, there are objects that cannot be changed under pain of death, but it all depends on each building individually. If architecture is naked to the limit, it doesn’t care.
If the structure can be anything in the future, then, returning to the one presented at Arch Moscow, should architecture react to its content, am I talking about the imprint that the social component imposes on the typology, or will the architect survive any function? Did you come into contact with future residents at the design stage? Has any research been done?
- In our case, this study was optional, since cooperative housing is a typical model for Zurich and accounts for about 1/4 of the total housing stock. Although this standard is currently undergoing a lot of rethinking, MAW [More than Housing] has the idea of collective ownership, and Trimli is a very traditional apartment building. Work in this context implies mainly housing, avoiding the introduction of all kinds of commercial structures. It is preferable to mix several types of apartments. In "Trimli" there are both 3-, 4-, 5-room apartments for large families, and small one-room apartments for the elderly, designed for one or two people. It is important to note that over the past few years, the size of residential areas has been revised, apartments have become smaller, a new standard has emerged, the emergence of which is largely provoked by the crisis …
So let's take a step back, which is more important - typology or structure?
- I understand, a dissonance has arisen, there is something that we cannot change in the archetype of housing. In the history of Switzerland, there was a sad experience of creating flexible planning solutions for residential buildings, but when you have a family, children, then your requirements for an apartment increase, you want to get an isolated house, a fortress. Your everyday life requires a certain set of functions, their classification. For our part, we strive to offer a rational use of square meters, an identified configuration and a working scheme of living spaces. The architect must operate with structure, not typology. For example, residential buildings, widespread in the 19th century, with a staircase in the center, in front of which there is what we call Diele, a kind of hall with many doors, there are many such houses in Zurich. I lived in one of such inherently universal apartments, they can be office, residential, any space, since each of the rooms has its own independent access. You see, it would never occur to you to remove the wall. Miroslav Sik still resorts to this traditional Swiss structure, and it is no coincidence.
– Is this your vision of "sustainability" in architecture?
- Yes! If you're not looking for demolition, then this is the best scenario you can write. Even if it's labor intensive, it's worth it. The plan and space, everything is interconnected, including the material of the facade is important, because if you make a house from cheap materials, then be prepared that your brainchild will collapse during your lifetime.
Life in a cooperative village is a kind of disagreement with the surrounding reality. There is something post-traumatic in this, as if we are returning to the post-war period, or rather, we equate the present with that, because it is no coincidence that all these rules exist - only married couples can live, sometimes only with children, etc. In the one you mentioned MAW a mere mortal cannot get in, it is a kind of fortress. But what are they defending against? Warrior? Globalisolation? Capitalism? Striving for self-identification? How do you assess this trend from a professional point of view?
- Perhaps they show a certain kind of disregard for modern norms, but this form of life is justified not so much by ideology as by the desire for an archaic way of life inherent in every person. Some time ago I spoke with Anna Bronovitskaya, and she said that the Russians, due to the multitude of historical events, are sickened by any kind of collectivity. But for us this is completely different. For example, speaking about MAW, its residents are trying to create a place where everyone knows their neighbor by sight, to build trust. They are trying to create a secure environment, self-contained in the form of governance structure. And, of course, if you go into the depths of this concept, then the cooperative is far from a commune, there is no question of community of property or labor. Everyone has a choice: to become part of the collective or not. In each village there is something like public or semi-public spaces for a neighbor's, joint pastime. But the choice, the possibility of choice, distinguishes these people, it is their independent decision, and not imposed from the outside.
Don't you think that everything worked out, that your form perfectly emphasizes, characterizes what they live in and are in? You talk about prefabricated structures, concrete, archetype values, they talk about the same phenomenon, only from a social point of view …
- From a formal point of view, you are absolutely right, "Trimley" is somewhat reminiscent of post-war modernism, I can say that at this point in time the same "syndrome", as you put it, can be traced in the works of many Scandinavian and English architects. Post-war Scandinavia in general had a very strong influence on the architecture of Switzerland, not only on the formal aspects, but also on the desire to live in small-scale architecture from natural materials.
We talked with Yuri Palmin, discussed monumentality, not monumentality, radicalism … And, perhaps, that's the point, modern architecture in Switzerland is radical, but not monumental, it does not shout about the name of the leader, it protects. After all, it is not a matter of scale, because it is not large enough, it is typical, corresponds to the ubiquitous. I am a “brutalist” because it’s not a matter of “gods”, it’s a matter of life, where everything comes down to its essence. I don't want to make flashy architecture, I would even say that we are all kind of participants in the competition for the quietest statement (smiles). So, at first glance, it may seem to you that this is the most ordinary house, except that the staircase is made a little better than usual. Maybe this is a Swiss unspoken rule, we do not make iconic buildings, we use stable archetypes, we introduce them into circulation.
