would be interesting to see something like this in tallinn, too.
Estonian Art – Eesti Instituut
Article originally published in Estonian Art magazine. “To think is not to work within the set of given conditions” is a quote by Petra Čeferin, one of the speakers of TAB 2013 Symposium
During September of this year, the second Tallinn Architecture Biennale took place in very particular venues across town, curated by Aet Ader, Kadri Klementi, Karin Tõugu and Kaidi Õis of the local architecture office b210. The Sprat-Tin Hall, part of the building now housing the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was the setting for the Curators’ Exhibition of commissioned works by invited authors. A collection of student projects from local and international architecture schools were exhibited in the foyer of Linnahall. An out-of-use school building in the district of Väike-Õismäe was the stage for presenting the results of the vision competition for this very district. The cinema Kosmos saw an enthusiastic audience for the two-day symposium. A city center gallery had been transformed to a temporary meeting location, a site of presentation, meeting and discussion. A number of satellite events accompanied and rounded the program.
When setting out to discuss the heritage of Estonian modernist architecture under the banner of revisiting ideas and reusing material – as the title “Recycling Socialism” suggests – I can imagine, one soon finds oneself in a minefield of ideologies, emotions and aesthetics – a classic conflict of first-hand experience and retold experience. The monuments, buildings and concrete slab districts remaining after the great changes of over 20 years ago, are still inherently political, they are still the material of the politics of memory. The ideas materialised by the buildings, are not new; they have been discussed in the theories of modernist architecture long time ago, but have by now been buried under a history yet to be historicised.
As Andres Kurg states, the profession of the architect has suffered dissolution mass construction during the Soviet times, but so does today’s architecture suffer dissolution in market construction. In that sense we find ourselves in a similar situation of feeling the need to relate architecture to a strong, dictating outside force. But a constructive discussion cannot be based on opposition to times or contexts. It will prosper not by negating (parts of) the existing thus being a simple derivation of the condition at hand, but by questioning the underlying values of the material and our own position to those. A utopian vision for our cities should not be a singular boring daily-marketed dream but a challenge that is continuously tried out, monitored, adjusted, questioned – a process rather than an aim. A process of approaching again and again the fundamental ideas of equality and striving for a better living – words that have become hollow projectiles in today’s Estonia worshipping profitability.
Architecture is a utopian practice realised says Petra Čeferin. It is not a servant to the continuation and reproduction of the material world but – through thinking and critical reconstruction – its master. The definition of an architect, Čeferin continued, lies in the ability to see the minimal difference – that what tells a good creation from a bad one. Thus, everyone is an architect, not as an author, but in relation to the material world. Everyone is capable and responsible of judging the course an environment is taking. While a tremendous effort to reconstruct our living spaces, our workplaces, and our monuments is still necessary, we face pressures where a certain kind of thinking (not to confuse with calculating) might not be forbidden, but is becoming increasingly impossible. Today, thinking, creating, producing is required to be profitable, measurable and to return a tangible value. Reducing thinking to numerical calculation cannot be interpreted as an advancement, this is not what makes knowledge society, or any society, for that matter.
At the centre of opening up reflection over the buildings of the past are the questions of which ideas are worth saving and which ones should be abandoned. But who has the authority to decide on that? Probably not the anonymous general public. Should it be the political representatives? The technocrats in the city planning department? Should it be the city architect or a future state architect? An investor?
The mere opinion does not bring any life, tough. Do we actually need to talk about Linnahall, or should we just open it up piece by piece and see how practical, day-to-day use can be a realistic scale of evaluating the needs and necessities for these huge structures. Have we ever looked at the details of how people have appropriated the blank concrete over the decades, and how the not so obvious ways of variation through use have poked holes of good solutions into the imposed salvation of mass residencies? We need to rethink the materiality of our work and living spaces not under the aspect of interesting and exciting, but under the aspect of social, stimulating and reconstructed.
This is also a reminder on the view of our lives and how we organize it around production – both the material and intellectual. The idea of the social – of how we ally among us – is defined on how we produce; how we transform our environment and our intellectual world. Only that today we work and live more and more on our own. Do you know what your freelancing writer colleague earns? In what conditions the designer lives that sketches illustrations in your favorite cafè? When do you yourself stop working during the day and start living? If we think about the factories back then, though not the conveyer belts, but the fact that we knew those things about our colleagues. Production is not a single-sided activity, but it involves the entire spectrum of our personality. Pier Vittorio Aureli reminded us on concepts of the monastery or the phalanstery, and suddenly, the cubes of dogma’s factory concept might be worth a try, even more so considering the ever decreasing availability of public spaces and places. Gregor Taul’s idea of placing these cubes in guerilla fashion around the temples of capitalism would add to a diverse city. And including Robert K. Huber’s treatment of the material heritage in the information age – that is: how we can incorporate knowledge about material, about reusing, about cataloging and data-mining this existing treasure – finds the common ground to the topic of recycling.
The public space architecture of modernism is agreeably brutal at times, and the continuous talk about our idea of public space is indeed exasperated at times. While we slide into discussing all and everything under this term, it obscures and avoids the true question of public. Today, there is no public space left. All are by means of ideology controlled in one way or another. Under the prerogative of an illusion of security and a fear of losing material goods, we give up a the value of accessibility for all. Again, this counts for material and intellectual space. They are entwined. When the actions of elites resemble a competition for control of opinion through propaganda and politicized media, and when the idea of politics resembles only the infinite reproduction of the status quo, then the discussion transcends a the single field of architecture.
When we are asked to review ideas of the past, we find ourselves in a common dilemma. In retrospect thoughts stand out as monolithic, unique, unprecedented and untouchable. But as such we cannot approach them. In our rational of multifaceted subjectivity, we are constantly forced to map ourselves and our opinions in a web of influences, relationships and reciprocities. The TAB events gave the necessary space for everyone – the architect of the era, the contemporary urban dweller and the naive outsider – to approach the material in its broad complexity and maybe reconnect and reconsider some of the engraved ideas.
If you are looking for more inspiration, check out these remarkable people and their activities. KÉK from Budapest, Horizonte from Weimar, VROA from Wrocław, Dogma from Brussels, Petra Čeferin, Andres Kurg, raumlaborberlin, zukunftsgeräusche from Berlin.
Having visited the Tallinn Architecture Biennale as well, I confess
I’m astonished by the article of Tarja Nurmi and her smashing judgment.
Calling the six lectures “theoretical or shallow” in the same sentence
is absurd. Mrs. Nurmi apparently did not understand the obvious effort
of the curator team, to not principally copy and paste the numbers
game of so-called “excellent built examples”, but to give a chance to
fundamentally rethink our approach to ideologically biased space
production. Furthermore, I have rarely been at a symposium where
invariably every speaker was thoroughly prepared, interacted with the
other presenters so constructively, and had a more passionated and
profound opinion on the event’s topic. To call this Stringent
Intensiveness shallow is beyond believe.
Considering your cry for “real specialist”, I’d love to hear more
about who that would be. Is it the city architect of a post-socialist
metropole? The engineer that calculates a glass and steel facade for a
concrete slab public building? The investor that finally brings the
millions to commoditize the fouling heritage?
I’m not sure how Mrs. Nurmi could have missed the implications all of
the presentations had in their pursue of social and cultural effects
and implications of architecture and their interpretations:
Huber’s multimedia hybrid and “passive house” museum/public space,
Aureli’s consequences of modern space for the precarious creative
workers, Hungar’s spatial interpretations of social relationships,
Wojciechowski’s resistance to pure market logic and patronizing rule
sets of competitions and Čeferin’s jolting plea for a critical
architecture revised. For me as an urbanist it is beautiful to see how
diverse architects can look at space.
Mrs. Nurmi, not reflecting in your blog entry upon the implications of
those lines of thought on those grounds, in particular here in the
Baltics and in Tallinn – this is the actual shallowness towards your
There is a lot to learn about how to functionally reuse socialist
architecture, but for this I can as well review the efforts made by
various projects installed through the last two decades throughout
Europe. Speaking of which, the renovation and reuse of the TV tower in
Berlin, and correspondingly in Tallinn. Really? Those projects are
done and over with, there’s nothing groundbreaking to see here. I
strongly believe that we don’t have trouble finding creative
architectural methods and ways of reusing and remaking objects
produced in the last 70 years. We need to layout the groundwork to
discuss how we approach them ideologically. And for this process the
symposium provided enough food for thought to leave to the audience.
As of the rest of your review, your reflection on the curator’s
exhibition, and the exhibition space in Linnahall, and the temporary
club/café/bookshop leaves me thoroughly unsatisfied.
In the only critique towards the curator’s exhibition models you
missed the blatantly obvious recursive thought of the Swiss team about
ideology, time and object: the most famous conclusion of modernism,
modified – “All that is solid melts into air” – and so does the
architecture. How can you not see the inversion of all that has been
taking for granted, manifested in Frolov’s/Levtchuk’s hovering
monolith – the reversed ground.
No word of the presentations and dialogues fueled by architects from
all over Europe – the vast network which the “young curators” as you
call them have been able to weave in years of effort; no word about
the contributions of the school’s exhibition in Linnahall – didn’t you
long for practical examples?
All in all, a disappointing review, obviously biased with name
dropping by the author. I for my part can only hope that the next
Tallinn Architecture Biennale will pick up on where the b210 team have
left us here in Tallinn, showing how it certainly is possible to put
Tallinn on the map outside of the rails of the boring IT hype.
Creative and enthusiastic people are the lifeblood of the smartness and richness of Tallinn. They provide the ideas and initiative for the layer of contemporary culture that will ultimately save this city from becoming a pure office plantation or medieval theme park. Acknowledging this, cultural institutions, educational centers, private businesses and the city administration have already put it on their banners to nurture and comfort the development of this fragile branch. In this context it is especially disturbing how the attitude towards this group by the Kultuurikatel reminds more of common exploitation than supportive encouragement.
Next time in Lasnamäe
by Andreas Wagner
The LASN is an architecture exhibition displaying materialised professional opinions on the future of the built environment of Lasnamäe. Unfortunately, the curator fails to contextualise the results and to put them in perspective as adequate contributions to this complex discussion.
The LASN exhibition is timely placed on the background of the ongoing struggle of Tallinn’s professional elites and administration about how to deal with this part of the modernist legacy and the celebration of Mustamäe’s fiftieth anniversary this year. Lasnamäe is the notorious modernist extension to Tallinn, the idealist’s solution of strains produced by an overcrowded inner city and the continuous influx of people. The models on display visualise burning questions about this district in very different forms. The teams involved point towards different spatial questions, for example, of boundaries (Salto), administration and form (Järving / Pihlak), resource management and re-/upcycling (Kavakava), perspective and shared space (b210), co-creation (Alver). They offer thought-provoking impulses to the audience.
Lasnamäe is reduced to a screen for all kinds of projections and judgements, and as the lack of precision in the design and catalogue of the exhibition show, this attitude is not likely to change very soon. One of the reasons why modernist planning has been judged as a failure has been its elitist planning paradigm. I wonder how we can hope to overcome this fault, if we do not discuss the matters of Lasnamäe in the necessary scope and seriousness on the ground and with the actual subject.
I got the feeling that the curator creates a rather exclusive “ivory tower” image of the architect’s profession, that does not overlap with other professions, such as historians, sociologists, physicists, economists, political or environmental scientists. But are not architects and planners doing the best job when they acknowledge and incorporate opinions of experts from other fields – thereby communicating and promoting their own?
Tallinn is by far not the only place where districts like Lasnamäe, Õismäe and Mustamäe have to be reinterpreted and reinvented due to faulty design and changes in history. If you look not as far west as the curator, but just to the estates in central European cities, there are many feasible examples of adjusting buildings and districts under very restrictive financial and social conditions.
Maybe one of the answers to the question of why architects have not been involved in Lasnamäe’s development during the last two decades might be the lack of a broader discussion and dialogue. A representative body such as the Union of Architects is expected to play a strong role by moderating constructive criticism of the mission and responsibility of architects in our society. I had the impression that during this particular event this role was forfeited.
Following that thought, should it not be the responsibility of the curator to orchestrate the contributed models and ideas not only in context to each other, but in the wider reality of the city? Is it not in the best interest of the Union of Architects to mediate the work and interest of its members to a wider audience, including other professions?
The first impression I got during the vernissage did not follow these principles. We are talking about Lasnamäe, why are we then in the city center? Why is the second language of the catalogue English, and not Russian? Why is the exhibition design so irresponsible and sloppy (i.e. the unapproachable position of model captions, uncommented chops of statistical data, errors in the catalogue)? These questions are in stark contrast to the catalogues conclusion: “All the changes have to be co-produced with the local populace. The inhabitants of Lasnamäe have to be able to say – ‘I made this!’”
The impression that I carried home did stir up my thoughts, but certainly not on the subject of Lasnamäe. The curator speaks of opinions, but fails to sketch out a particular problem. He is quick with judgements such as “The houses are there, the urban environment is not.” Where is the argumentation for that? Are annual statistics enough to draw up such a universal conclusion? What is the character of the desirable urban environment that the curator is imagining in contrast to the one certainly existing in Lasnamäe? Should a new generation of architects find solutions to the problems produced by their professional predecessors in the very same manner?
Some models did raise questions beyond the scope of plain structural architecture. Lasnamäe, like any other urban district in Tallinn, is defined through its mixed population, the quality and quantity of its built structure and the image and meaning applied to it from the outside. And like all its neighbouring districts, it is continuously changing. It is in the interest of professionals involved in city development and planning, the political administration and the people living there, that this discussion is being held with the seriousness and on the scope that it deserves. Thus the display of opinions of architects must reflect dedication by placing itself inside the particular surrounding it discusses. Furthermore, the involvement of the local population and expertise is a fundamental precondition. Finally, accumulating constructive criticism on the presented opinions and incorporating it into a continuous feedback loop should be the ultimate goal of such a dialogue, rather than the climax of a single event.
I believe that realistic visions for Lasnamäe can only be constructed with the authentic and professional dedication of the people involved. This includes the necessary respect of past efforts, continuous adjustment to the present obstacles, and an attitude that includes Lasnamäe in the urban discourses of Tallinn in as many levels as possible. To say it with the words of one guest of the vernissage: “Next time you should come to Lasnamäe, maybe your ideas will then be even better.”
Today, I had an exclusive chance to talk to Herkko Labi, urban activist and organizer of projects like Telliskivi in Tallinn. At the moment he is employed by the Kultuuri Katel to oversee the conceptual and physical changes planned for the building site, a derelict power plant close to the sea side of Tallinn. This building stands for the flair that the whole area creates in my mind – a place of transition.
Yesterday I was a witness to what is nowadays called a cultural urban intervention. In a semi-legal action the citizens of Tallinn made a present to their own city in the form of an urban art piece by “upgrading” an existing piece with an additional piece of work.