by ALICE CHALMERS
Sitting exposed amongst elf-inhabited marshlands in the centre of Reykjavik (according to the Icelandic), the Nordic House epitomises simple Nordic pride. The building is smaller than expected, buried into the man-made marsh rather than dominating it, and designed proudly to complement the surrounding landscape. Being quite isolated, the low level white-rendered façade reinforces the nature of the immediate site. The flat rectilinear roof has an organic angular form protruding from the middle, hinting towards functions that go on inside as well as making reference to the neighbouring mountains. The colour of the glazed ceramic tiles lining the angular form of the building further reinforces the surrounding dark blue tones of the mountains.
Upon entering the building, you are as in the majority of his buildings, immediately placed at the centre of all activities. The entrance foyer acts as a courtyard to all services that tier off from the central space. The foyer has a subtle mixture of artificial and natural lighting, fitted out with cylindrical skylights above – first used in Aalto’s Viipuri Library (1930). From this main space you can get to the cafe, auditorium and library uninterrupted nor questioned by staff. This occurs in many Aalto buildings: you are encouraged to explore, the use of brick as floor finish leading you into new spaces in the case of this Nordic House. The more private and official spaces used by staff are situated towards the back of the building or accessed by separate entrances.
One is constantly reminded that this building at the time of my visit is indeed almost 45 years old. Although relatively young in historical terms, for a building exposed to many harsh Icelandic winters and with very low-tech materials being used, it is surprisingly in fine condition. The materials used are certainly sustainable.
Arguably, the Nordic House has aged gracefully because of the deep understanding of such materials, which Aalto had developed over his career. Although not written about extensively, there is evidence to suggest that this is the case. Most notably, at his Summerhouse in Muuratsalo, (also known as the experimental house) Aalto experimented with brick within the external courtyard by juxtaposing different brick types in various configurations to play with aesthetics as well as allowing himself the opportunity to observe subtle physical changes that may arise. This is of course, one small example of only part of a building but we can see that while Aalto may not ultimately control all the results of a building over time, by setting up personal studies, he enabled himself the opportunity to make a conscious effort to better understand how materials reacted, weathered and looked adjacent, to and alongside one another. The results of which, could then be learned from to ensure that the application of specific materials within future projects could be done so with more predictable results.
As architects, we are always looking towards the physical fabric of a building to assess the impact time has had on its aesthetic and condition. During my visit, there was a lot of activity for a Saturday morning. The building was in good use, busy even, with children continually entering to get to activities taking place in the lower level of the library. There was also a conference being held in the auditorium – a multi-purpose space just off the upper section of the library. It is a real test of the building, proving that it should not just be the condition of the building, which decides anyone’s personal opinion on the success of a design but also about the way in which it continues to be used.
Aalto’s approach may be better understood through his statement: “Do not judge my building on the day it opens, but in 30 years time.” His intention in design went beyond rationalising form and material alone. He worked with and placed value on that element of design that was out of his control; time. Looking back upon that initial aspiration – the Nordic House being one of Aalto’s later works – one can see parts of this building that refer to previous designs, where lessons have been learnt, repeated and expanded upon. It also remains to be one of Aalto’s youngest built works, contributing to the overall current condition and success of the design. At the point of his career when the Nordic House was designed and built, from 1963–68, Aalto had a well-established approach, understanding and balance in his response to site and function, which perhaps is what contributes towards such a timeless design with a feeling of permanence.
Michael Spens: obituary
The architect, writer, and former publisher/editor of Studio International, Michael Patrick Spens of Wormiston, Knight 1st Class, Order of the Lion of Finland (for services to architecture), has died aged 74.
Aalto and America
According to Sarah Williams Goldhagen (‘Aalto’s Embodied Rationalism’), who is one of the contributors to this impressive new text on Aalto’s encounter with America, we can understand Aalto’s position within the modern movement as an other form of rationalism imbued with humanism.
Book review: The revision of the modern: seeking the real narrative
Sadly, this important study was published just before the author's untimely death earlier this year. Paul Overy was a well-recognised author dealing with 20th-century art and architecture. His publications over a long career included books on the de Stijl group, Wassily Kandinsky, Norman Foster, and the architecture and furniture of Gerrit Rietveld.
The Thinking Hand: Essential and Embodied Wisdom in Architecture
One of the distinguished Finnish protagonists involved in the restoration project is the author of this important book, Juhani Pallasmaa, architect, architectural thinker, lecturer and author. By coincidence, at the time of my visit, I was reading The Thinking Hand and found it a timely and searching exposition of issues that I was in some way mulling over myself, especially the neglected act of drawing in architectural procedures.
The Architecture of the Last Empire
The past decade has seen a growing interest in the British Indian Empire and its inner social and economic mysteries. But the physical legacy, in architectural terms, still awaits re-assessment. Indeed, while many of the buildings which remain are carefully inhabited and preserved for the most part, others, less domestic in their role, and redolent of imperial power, remain at risk, open to the vagaries and whims of 21st century political and nationalist sentiment.