"Media as Modern Architecture Co / amino Demand sees media as architecture," says edward mcgahey. He takes images from the world of media and builds them as scale constructions in paper and cardboard, he says. The new pho tographs join the media world that originated them, he writes. The process is so laborious and time consuming that Demand can make only a few photographs a year.
"Media as Modern Architecture Co / amino Demand sees media as architecture," says edward mcgahey. He takes images from the world of media and builds them as scale constructions in paper and cardboard, he says. The new pho tographs join the media world that originated them, he writes. The process is so laborious and time consuming that Demand can make only a few photographs a year.
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"Media as Modern Architecture Co / amino Demand sees media as architecture," says edward mcgahey. He takes images from the world of media and builds them as scale constructions in paper and cardboard, he says. The new pho tographs join the media world that originated them, he writes. The process is so laborious and time consuming that Demand can make only a few photographs a year.
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S ", U" H Media as Modern Architecture Co/amino Thomas Demand sees media as architecture, in his words, "as a vast landscape, a virtual domain with its cities of scandals, its towers of superstars, and its marsh of murders."l This may explain why he builds it, why he takes images from the world of media-photographs of crime sites, most notably-and builds them as scale constructions in paper and cardboard, strong enough to hold only until the photograph is taken, after which he destroys the original modeL The new pho tographs join the media world that originated them. A forensic image of the German politician Uwe Barschel, found dead, fully dressed, in the bathtub of a hotel in Geneva and published on the cover of Der Stern in 1987 (fig. I), becomes Demand's photograph Bathroom of1997 (fig. 2); the hallway leading to serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer's apartment in Milwaukee becomes Corridor (1995); the tunnel in Paris where Princess Diana and Dodi AI-Fayed were killed in 1997, which was repeatedly photographed and televised world wide, becomes the site for Tunnel (1999), a two-minute 35-millimeter film loop; a security camera image of an escalator in London that was passed by muggers before they murdered someone becomes Escalator (2000); a press photograph of the presidential election re count in Palm Beach County, Florida, on 16 November 2000, becomes the photograph Poll (2001); the kitchen in Saddam Hussein's hideaway house in Tikrit, Iraq, becomes Kitchen (2004); and so on. A steady succes sion ofsupercharged and super-exposed images are reconstructed. It is interesting to note that if Demand takes images from mass-media spectacle, he returns them in unspectacular mode. The architecture he finds within spectacle is completely unspectacular. Media as Modern Architecture 59 The process is so laborious and time consuming that Demand can make only a few photographs a year. The photographer is working at the speed ofan architect, and yet little by little he is building a city made of diverse crime scenes (past and present) and other media charged sites, which now by association look crime scenes. These sites are almost always interi ors: bathrooms, corridors, kitchens, staircases, dining tables, offices, TV studios, sinks. Even a forest (Clearing, 2003), a hedge (Hedge, 1996), grass (Lawn, 1998) and the night sky ( Constellation, 2000) be come in his photographs interiors, enveloping spaces. A city of interi ors, then. A city devoid of people, as if one massive crime had taken place, with Demand as our tour guide through the ruins. In fact, he has said at one point, "I like to imagine the sum of all media representation of the event as a kind oflandscape, and the media industry as the tour-bus company that takes us through this colourful surrounds."2 To walk through a Demand tion is to walk through such a city. Why will a historian ofmodern architecture be interested in such art prac tices? At an obvious level, all the spaces Demand reconstructs are modern. He is making models of modern architecture and photographing them. More significantly, I find myself in a symmetrical position to that of Demand, since I have been arguing some time now that modern architecture is a form of media, that it is not just a set of buildings in the streets but is built as image in the pages of magazines and newspapers. This is not just because architects are trying to sell a product, making advertising images of their spaces-although that is also dearly the case-but before that, the image is itself a space carefully constructed by the architect. Fig. 2. Thomas Demand (Gennan. born 1964), Bathroom, 1997. C.print. 63 x 48 in. (160 x 122 em) \- - " ~ . '''1'"""' ''''''+1\ lifo R.!ii illii!il. Xi iJ4J 4k tiQ;:a;;;;.@i.;u;;;;;;:;;a,;jJkiQL";;;;::UiU. ," kM*eg?.u f,J KIk;;; ,< ' . ., , " I I 60 Beatriz Colomina Fig, 3. Alison and Peter Smithson, Bathtub, House of the Futul'C, 1956. Daily l"'lail Ideal Home Show, London Modern architecture is all about the mass-media image. That's what makes it modern, rather than the usual story about functionalism, new materials, and new technologies. In fact, mod ern architecture, as Reyner Banham pointed out, is not very functional at all. And new technologies? Who can forget the images of Le Corbusier's houses under construction exposing the bricks before they were care fully covered over with plaster and paint to give the im pression that the houses were actually made ofconcrete? Or the walls of the Barcelona Pavilion, which were in the end load-bearing, even if Ludwig Mies van der Rohe claimed that it was there, in the pavilion, that he first re alized the independence of wall from supporting structure (let alone the fact that the principle had been an nounced five years earlier by Le Corbusier and that the practice was long in place in American steel-frame structures). Or Alison and Peter Smithson's curving House of the Future of1956 (fig. 3), which was not made of plastic at all but was a simu lation, a full-scale mock-up in plywood, plaster, and emulsion paint, traditional materials collaborating to produce the effect of a continuous moulded plastic surface. Modern architecture was staged architecture, a masque, as Alison and Peter Smithson put it. The Smithsons saw the tradition of such temporary theatrical structures as a centuries-old tradition in architecrure: t. Media as Modern Architecture 61 The architects of the Renaissance established ways of going about which perhaps we unconsciously follow: for example, between the idea sketchily stated and the commission forthe permanent building came the of the court masque; the architectural settings and decorations for the birthday of the prince, for the wedding of a ducal daughter; for the entry of a Pope into a state; these events were used as opportunities for the nealisation of the new style; the new sort of space; the new weight of decoration; made real perhaps for a single day ... the transient enjoyably consumed, creating the taste for the permanent. 3 As in the Renaissance, the Smith sons' House of the Future was staged architecture, a shimmering masque, which doesn't make the proposal less provocative but per haps more: "Like all exhibitions, they live a life of say a week or four weeks in reality, then they go on and on forever. Like the Barcelona Pavilion before it was reconstructed." 4 The temporary turns out to be permanent. The most extreme and influential proposals in the history of modern architecture were made in the context of temporary exhibitions. The Smithsons saw their House of the Future following this tradition: Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret's Pavilion de l'Esprit Nouveau in Paris (1925), Konstantin Melnikov's Market in Moscow (1924) and USSR Pavilion in Paris (1925), Mies and Lily Reich's "Velvet and Silk Cafe" for the Women's Fashion Exhibition in Berlin (1927), Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret's Nestle Pavilion in Paris (1928), Walter Gropius's Werkbund Exhibition in Paris (1930) and so on. From Charles and Ray Eames, the Smithsons had learned how to transform images on display into architecture. This was already evident in their 1953 exhibi tion with Nigel Henderson and Eduardo Paolozzi, Parallel ofLife andArt, in which an architecture of images was inserted into a traditional room, creating a room in side a room (fig. 4). And it would continue when the same team assembled Patio and Pavilion in 1956, essentially another room within a room, except that now the inside walls of the outer room (the patio) were lined in aluminium, making the visitor, endlessly reflected on the walls, part of the exhibit. The space was filled with found archaic objects treated as images, laid out like a large painting to be walked through in the patio, with the visitors incorporated into the image, or look ing from behind the wires that replaced the missing wall of the pavilion to keep visitors out, or looking through the translucent corrugated plastic roof of the pavil- I .. .' \ -, $ '. W< ,fiN;; 1" Media as Modern Architecture 63 62 Beatriz Colomina Fig. 4. Alison and Peter Smithson. Nigel Henderson, and Eduardo Paolozzi. Parallel ofLife ondArt, 19511nstrtute of Contemporary Arts, London ion, which had the effect of an almost photographic vision. The House of the Future, on the other hand, was a display case that, like the objects it displayed, was pure image. Both the house and the objects inside were treated as images, and they combined to produce one single smooth image, a glossy ad that could be placed alongside any other ad, participating in the flow ofpopular imagery, intense images that dominated for a moment only to be quickly replaced. Exhibitions in the twentieth century acted as sites for the incubation of new forms ofarchitecture that were sometimes so shockingly original, so new, that they were not even recognized as architecture at alL Think, for example, of Mies van der Rohe's Barcelona Pavilion (fig. 5), widely understood in the architectural world today as the most influential building ofthe twentieth century. It was in fact seen by "nobody." Despite its prominent location in the layout of the 19 2 9 'l Fig,S. Ludwig M,es van der Rohe, Bar'celona Pavilion, 1929. The Museum of Modern Art, New York. The Mles van der Rohe Archive International Exhibition in Barcelona, even journalists sent by professional archi tectural magazines passed it over entirely, unable to detect its significance. Naive visitors and local journalists provided the only testimony to its existence. They commented on the "mysterious" effect, "because a person standing in front ofone of these glass walls sees himself reflected as if by a mirror, but if he moves behind them, he then sees the exterior perfectly. Not all the visitors notice this curious par ticularity whose cause remains ignored." 5 It is necessary to go back to these kinds of statements to understand the surprise that a glass building produced in I929, something that the generation that has grown up around Hilton International hotels may have difficulty imagining. It was only in the 1950S, in the aftermath of the 1947 Mies exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in New York curated by Philip Johnson, that the Barcelona Pavilion burst into every architectural publication. 6 A ~ glass architecture became dominant, the pavilion was hailed as the most beautiful building of the ~ \ ~ , " , . ~ ~ , I I I . 64 Beatriz Colomina I Media as Modern Architecture 65 I, --, (" Fig. 6. ludwig Mles van der Rohe, Glass Skyscraper, Berlin, 1922. Model (no century, exemplifying the cult of transparency. A building that was known only through magazine images (it was dismantled at the closing of exhibition in Barcelona and its fragments misplaced during its return trip to Germany) became the most significant monument of modern architecture. What is crucial about the Barcelona Pavilion is that it was both real, a one-to-one construction that existed for a time, and an image, a media construc tion. All we knew about it, before its reconstruction in 1986, were the photographs. It lived in the photographs. If temporary buildings like the Barcelona Pavilion had their full force as images, some images have the full force of buildings. Think of Mies's famous proj ect of the Glass Skyscraper of1922, where the model is made to look like a building that has already been constructed, with light, reflections, greenery, and adjacent existing buildings (fig. 6). He photographed it so as to give the impression that the ing is living, removing all traces of it being a model and care fully blurring the line between the object and its background. He had done the same thing with drawing in the ear lier version of the project, his entry into the Friedrichstrasse skyscraper competition of1921, in which he tried to produce effect that the building al ready existed, photomontaging a rendering of the building onto a photograph ofthe street cars and electrical cables, and refining the design in a se ries of photomontages that culminated in a canonical ren dering (fig. 7). It is important to note that these images are longer rhe Museum of Modem Art, NewYork. I Mres van der Rohe Archive so large that you find Fig, 7. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Friedrichstrasse Glass Skyscraper, Berlin, 1921. Photomontage with pencil and charcoal drawings. Fonds Peter Carter Canadian Center for Architecture, Montreal yourself in the street when ing at them, drawn into the image. The viewer of the photomontage experiences the space of the street, then arrives at the new building at the end. These drawings and models were not simply docu ments of projects to be built. In fact, Mies could not have built any of them at the time, even if given the opportunity. He didn't: have the knowledge, the techni cal expertise yet. In fact, Mies's place in architectural history, his role as one ofthe so-called fathers of the modern movement, was es tablished through a series of five projects, none of them acrually built (or even buildable-they were not developed at that level), he made public through ex hibitions and publications during the first half of the 1920S: the two Glass Skyscrapers of 1921 and 1922, the Reinforced Concrete Office Building of 1923, and the Concrete and Brick Country Houses of 1923 1924. The projects were exhibited and published in a long list of journals, avant garde and professional, such as Fruhlicht, G, the Journal ofthe American Institute ofArchitects, Merz, Wasmuths Monatshefte for Baukunst, L'Architecture Vivante, as well as in many books on modern architecture written during 19205. It was five projects, these five "paper" architectures, together with the publicity apparatus enveloping them, that first made Mies into a historical figure. The projects that he had built so far, and that he would continue to develop during the same yea.:s, would have taken him nowhere. In that sense, Mies is a good illustration of the point that modern archi- I , .' \ \, ., '.W' "r 66 Beatriz Colomina tecture is a form of media. Modem architecture becomes "modem" not simply by using glass, steel, or reinforced concrete, as it is usually understood, but byengag ing with the media: with publications, competitions, exhibitions. With Mies, this is literally the case. What had been a series of rather conservative projects realized for "real" clients (the Riehl House, the Perls House, the Kroller-Miiller House, the Urbig House) gave way in the context of the Friedrichstrasse competition, of G, of Friihlicht, and so on, to a series of manifestos of modem architecture. Further, in Mies one can see, perhaps as in no other architect of the modern movement, a true case ofschiwphrenia between his "paper" projects and those de veloped for his clients. In the 19205, at the same time that he was developing his most radical projects, Mies could build such conservative houses as the Villa Eichstaedt in a suburb of Berlin (1922) and the Villa Mosler in Potsdam (1924). Can we blame these projects on the conservative taste of Mies's clients? Not so easily. Mosler was a banker, and his house is said to have reflected his taste. But when in 1924 the art historian and constructivist artist Walter Dexel, who was very much inter ested in and supportive of modern architecture, commissioned Mies to design a house for him, Mies blew it. Unable to come up with the modern house his client desired, he gave one excuse after another. The deadline was repeatedly postponed. And in the end, Dexel gave the project to another architect'? For many years, Mies was literally trying to catch up with his publications. Perhaps that is why he worked so hard to produce a sense ofrealism in the representation ofhis projects, as in the photomontage of the Glass Skyscraper with cars flying by on the Friedrichstrasse. Mies photographed the model to give the illusion that it could be built perhaps even to convince himself that he could build it. In fact, one could argue that he did build it. The image is the project. In the imagination of architects the world over, the Friedrichstrasse Skyscraper was built and was responded to by countless other projects. How is that possible? The model, the photomontage, the drawing has to have enough detail to sustain the illusion that it is real. This illusion is facilitated by the fact that mod em architecture polemically removed most of the detail. In fact, it was criticized at the beginning of the twentieth century for appearing like a model in photo graphs, a critique articulated not simply by unsympathetic journalists and critics but also by other modem architects. Adolf Loos, for example, criticized Joseph Hoffmann's architecture in precisely those terms. It was hard to determine whether the photographs of his work in architectural magazines depicted the real thing or L , .. Media as Modern Architecture 67 a model. s Even the drawings look like a model. The atectonic quality of the work made it appear as if it were made of cardboard. We know it is a building, but it looks like a paper model. With Demand's work, the opposite is true: We think it is real until we look closely and realize that it is a photograph of a modeL Loos himself built half-finished models to understand the complexities of his own Raumplan. Drawings were not adequate representations of his three dimensional volumes. When actually building a space, Loos refused to complete drawings until the building was finished, and he continued to make changes dur ing construction. According to Heinrich Kulka, one of his collaborators, Loos would walk through the space and say, "I do not like the height of this ceiling, change it!"9-in a way, treating the actual building as a model. Loos criticized the way architects ofhis time had started to design so that their buildings would look good in photographs. The building eventually came to resemble the model in the photograph. Media was transforming architecture into an image to be circulated around the world. Until the advent of photography and the illustrated magazine, never had so many people become intimately familiar with so many buildings they would never see. Architecture circulated throughout the world in the pages of these journals. The impact of the images has been so transformative that even when in the presence of an actual building, visitors in evitably see it through the lens of the images they know, trying to match it to the images, attempting to reproduce canonical photographs in their snapshots. If modern architecture is produced within the space of photographs and publications, this space is for the most part two-dimensional, and at a certain point architecture somehow internalizes that space, that flatness. The three-dimensional world becomes a photographic surface. Thomas Demand takes us the other way around. He takes images fumiliar to us through the media and turns them into three-dimensional paper-and cardboard constructions, ephemeral materials like those ofthe media, and photographs them only to destroy the model. He builds the architecture of the image. In that sense, it can be argued that he is a modern architect. Architects act as if their buildings were mainly images; they design the image. Even if their designs are built, they are handed down, as it were, to the oc cupants as a kind of used prop to inhabit. No architect has any deep interest in how his or her buildings are occupied. Demand takes the opposite approach. He takes the image, builds the model of that space in full scale, and destroys it after producing another image. I I 68 Beatriz Colomina Fig. 8. ludwig Mies der Rohe at the Museum of Modern Art, Newyo,-k, photogrdphed by William Leftwich in 1947. Edward Duckett Collection, Ryerson and Burnham Archives. The Art Institute of Chicago Perhaps the word "model" is misleading here. Demand is not simply modelling something that is then transformed into an image; he is building the image itself The procedure is different from that of the typical modern architect. Mies, Le Corbusier, and the Eameses built models and photographed them from many angles, day and night, then chose an image. In fact, architects never seem to tire oflooking at their models. They even photograph themselves doing so. A pho tograph of Mies at the Museum of Modern Art during the exhibition of his work in 1947 shows the architect bent over, looking through the model ofhis Farnsworth House as ifhe had never seen it before, his large head acting like a camera (fig. 8). A photograph of the Eameses from around the same time shows the couple look ing adoringly at the model of the first version of the Eames House as if it were a newborn baby they are about to kiss. Modern architects see everything through the camera. They make decisions on the basis of what they see through the lens. With Demand, the position of the camera is already determined. The camera is already part of the interior being pho- L Media as Modern Architecture 69 tographed; it is an extension of the lens that is then replaced with another exten sion. In other words, it is not that he moves the camera into the model to photograph it. The model only exists for the camera in one position. Demand explains that at first he created these paper spaces as sculpture and that he took photographs only to keep a record of them, since it was impos sible to keep them physically as sculptures. But he didn't like what he saw. He tried to learn photography with Bernd and Hilla Becher, who told him he would have to attend photography school for three years before they could teach him anything. It didn't seem very practical, so he started building a second sculpture that, when photographed, would look like the first one. For a while he was building two ob jects: one sculpture based on the media photograph and another that would communicate better in a photograph the idea of the first. Note again the symme try with modern architecture, which was built so that it would look good in photographs, so as to better communicate the idea of modern architecture, which meant looking like a cardboard modeL Photography in modern architecture re produced the feeling of paper. Demand's photographs try to reproduce the feeling of space created by the paper model, which reconstructs a space that existed as an image at one particular point in time. Most of these spaces have specific dates attached: the day the journal was published; the day Diana died; the days of the vote recount in Florida; even dates in the future, as in Constellation, which represents sky over Paris on 23 November 2300. Temporality is important in this work. It is not that the models are used and then destroyed. They are already falling apart the moment they are finished. This falling apart is already beginning in the photograph. We see a world not so much freshly built as in the threshold of undoing itself-just like a newspaper, which starts to disintegrate the moment we start reading it, or like modern architecture, which starts to fall apart the moment it is built. The immaculate empty surfaces of modern architecture immediately started to decay, revealing their own imper fections all too clearly. Yet immaculate surfaces survive forever in photographs, showing endless optimism, the utopian dream of the architect. Demand's vision of the threshold ofdecay is more ofa dystopia and therefore fundamentally different from that of the architect. An exception is a project by the architect Bernard Tschumi, who in 1976 produced Advertisements for Architecture, a series of postcards juxtaposing words and images, each a kind of manifesto of modern architecture. In one of them, un der an image of Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye in a state of disrepair, the text reads: ~ ' ) I' 70 Beatriz Colomina "The most architectural thing about this building is the state of decay in which it is" (fig. 9). Paradoxically, although the building has now been fully restored, the decay survives in Tschumi's advertisements, as well as in Rene Burri's photographs for Magnum. Like Demand, Tschumi appropriates media images and treats them as architecture. And, as with Demand, it is not the building in the images that makes them architecture but the event: in Tschumi's advertisements, somebody thrown out of a window or a body tied up with ropes; in Demand's photographs, a dead body in a bathtub or the hallway leading to Jeffrey Dahmer's Milwaukee apartment. The event in Tschumi's "advertisement" of Villa Savoye is the decay of modern architecture, even the decay of the very image of modern architecture, of which the Savoye is the canoni cal symbol. Tschumi exposes not simply the fate of the building but the image culture in which the building was, the beginning, sus pended. In this almost surgical move, he approaches exactly same limit as do Demand's photographs. While Demand lifts an architecture out of a media image only to destroy that architecture immediately after the photograph is Tschumi constructs a new ar chitecture out of the moment an earlier one collapses. More precisely, if the Villa Savoye was designed to produce a cer tain image for the media, the decay of the building is the decay of that image. The crack- flaking facade is literally the cracking and flaking of a photograph. Fig. 9. Bernard T schumi, Advertisements for Architecture, 1976 f Media as Modern Architecture 71 Images are the new architecture, "the unclassified background material against which we pass our lives," as Alison and Peter Smithson stated in the 1950s.10 This represents a fundamental transformation of the urban condition of even the previous fifi:yyears. If Walter Benjamin described architecture as that art form that is perceived only unconsciously, in a state of distraction, that role is now being taken over by images. An endless flow of images now constitutes the environment. Buildingi> become images, and images become a kind of building, occupied like any other architectural space. The significance of architects like Mies, Le Corbusier, and Eameses lies in their particular sensitivity ro this transformation. They understood that what it meant to be an architect in the twentieth century was completely different from what it had meant for the previous century. Images had become the raw material of their craft. It was just a matter of time for photographers to become architects. In his recent installation for the Serpentine Gallery in London, Demand has taken the walls of the structure, almost domestic in scale, of the classical tea pavilion of 1934 that serves as the gallery and covered them with ivy wallpaper in manner of William Morris. The inside becomes an ourside, as if the pavilion had been turned inside out. The wallpaper is produced and hung in a way that emphasizes the mate- of the paper, the sense that it has been cut from a roll, leaving visible scams. "I feel the importance," Demand writes in his notes for the project, "that it does not appear as printed offset (like phoro wallpaper or billboards) bur matte, paper ish and on rolls. A consumer item. If photographs hang on it we need the uncoated of the material to make a visible distinction. Also the pattern will not match on the sides: so the cuts will be prominent. Which makes it more collage-ish."ll The Serpentine Gallery has been turned into a one-to-one model, a pa- structure turned outside in. That's why Demand so much wanted it to feel like paper, to look like paper, to bare its seams as if following Gottfried Semper's mid nineteenth-century dictum that architecture is actually defined by the cladding on the walls rather than by the structure that holds the cladding up. It is the thinnest decorative layer that produces space. Semper, like the Smithsons, traced the ori gins of permanent architecture back to temporary installations of fabrics on a scaffolding in the open landscape for festivals: The festival the scaffolding with all the special and frills that indicate more precisely the occasion forthe fes tivity and enhance the glorification of the with decorations, L 72 Beatriz Colomina draped with dressed with boughs and flowers, adorned with festoons and garlands, fluttering banners and trophies-this is the motive of the monument.12 All the monumental force of architecture is generated by the most insubstantial means. In working with images, and decorative images of ivy precisely, Demand engages directly with the greatest force of building. In building his images, he is really building. Not by chance, one of the new works shown on these ivy walls is Tavern, a ofphotographs based on the press images ofa building in which a young boy was held hostage never and the crime had no witnesses, gate" image disseminated by the press. Demand's series symptomatically includes an image of ivy growing over the murderous building in Burbach. Cladding on cladding. Image on image. Building on building. A version of this essay first appeared in Thomas Demand (London: Serpentine Gallery, 2006). I. Thomas Demand, quoted in franc,:ois Quintin, "There in No Innocent Room," in Thomas Demand (London and New York: Thames & Hudson, 2000), 53. 2. "A Thousand Words: Thomas Demand Talks about Poft," Artforum 39 (May 144-45. 3. Alison and Peter Smithson, "Staging the Possible," in Italian Thoughts (n. p., r6. See also the earlier version of the same argument in "The Masque and the Exhibition: Toward the Real," International Laboratorv ofArchitecture and Urban Design Yearbook 4. Robert Smithson, in Beauiz Colomina, "Friends of the Future: A Conversation with Peter Smithson," October 94 24 from Barcelona reviewing the DaVlllon. in J. "Fear of Glass: The Barcelona Pavilion," Revisions 2, guest-edited Beatriz Colomina 5. Unnamed local Princcton Architectural Press, 1988), 130. 6. For the reception of the Barcelona Pavilion, see Juan Pablo A Study Systems in Architecture (Ncw York: Rizzoli International, 131-74 7. Wolf Tegethoff, "From Obscurity to Maturity," in Franz Schultze, ed., Mies van ckr Rohe: Critical (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1989), 57-58. 8. Beatriz Colomina, Privacy and Publicity: Modern Architecture as Mass Media (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, (994), 56-57. 9. Heinrich Kulka, quoted in ibid., 269. ( Media as Modern Architecture 73 10. Alison and Peter Smithson, Without Rhetoric: An ArchitecturalAesthetic (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1974), 10-11. II. Thomas Demand, conversation with the author, May 2006. 12. Gottfried Semper, "Style in the Technical and Tectonic Arts or Practical Aesthetics," in The Four Elements ofArchitecture and Other Writings, trans. Harry Francis Mallgrave and Wolfgang Herrmann (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), , ~ r This publication is based on the proceedings of the Clark Conference "Architecture Between Spectacle and Use," held 29-30 April 2005 at the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts. The conference was supported by a grant from the Graham Foundation for Advanced Studies in the Fine Arts. For information on programs and publications at the Clark, visit www.clarkart.edu. 2008 Sterling and Francine Clark An Institute This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form that copying permitted by Sections 107 and ro8 of the u.s. Copyright Law and except by reviewers for the Dublic press), without written permission from rhe publisher. Produced by the Publications Department of the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute 225 South Street, Williamstown, Massachusetts 01267 Curtis R. Scott, Director ofPublicati(}ns David Edge, Graphic Design and Production Manager Katherine Pasco Frisina, Production Editor Carol S. Cates, Layout Printed by Excelsior Printing Company, North Adams, Massachusetts Distributed by Yale University Press, New Haven and London www.yalebooks.com Printed and bound in the United States ofAmerica ro9 8 7 6 543 21 Title page and divider page illustration: Seattle Central Library, designed by Rem Koolhaas/OMA (photo Lara SwimmerlESTO) Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Clark Conference (2005 : Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institure) Architecture between spectacle and use I edited by Anthony Vidler. p. cm.-{Clark studies in the visual arts) "This publication is based on the proceedings of the Clark Conference 'Architecture Between Spectacle and Use: held 29-30 April 2005 at the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Mass." verso. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 978-o-93I102-66-0 (Clark pbk. : alk. paperl-ISBN 978-0-300-12554-2 (Yale pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Architecture, Modern-20th century-Congresses. 2. Architecture, Modern-21st ccntury Congresses. 1. Vidler, Anthony. II. Title. NA680.C5822005 724'7-dc22 200704690I Contents Introduction VII Vidler Questioning the Spectacle Spectacle Architecture Before and After the Aftermath: 3 Situating the Sydney Experience Terry Smith Their "Master's Voice": Notes on the Architecture of 25 Hans Scharoun's and Frank Gehry's Concert Halls Kurt W Forster "The Way the World Sees London": 4 Thoughts on a Millennial Urban Spectacle Mark Dorrian Media as Modern Architecture 58 Beatriz Colomina Histories and Genealogies The (Trans)formations of Fame 77 Mark Jarzombek Monumentality in the Pictorial Still 89 Sarah Williams Goldhagen "Acid Visions" 107 D. Scott Redefining Spectacle Nonstandard Morality: Digital Technology and Its Discontents 127 Mario Carpo