The Nature Of Modernism

Early last week it was reported that the roof of the London 2012 Aquatic Centre has been lowered into place at the Olympic site in Stratford. Designed by leading architect, Zaha Hadid, it is described as an iconic, wave-shaped structure. Indeed, one newsreader compared it to the sting-ray, a large, tropical fish.

The Aquatic Centre has been paralleled with the Birds’ Nest stadium in Beijing in that both structures have been inspired by nature. This has directed my mind towards other parallels between nature and modernism. The nose of an aeroplane reminds me of nothing so much as the head of a swan. Trains – when they’re not on strike – thread their way about the countryside like giant, speeding worms. And certain types of speedboats duck and dive through water like trusty dolphins. Architects like Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright took nature to heart.

Corbusier’s Villa Savoye built in 1929 offered the dweller an unparalleled view of the surrounding countryside. In summer, those famous strip windows were filled with the greenery that grew outside while on top of the building was the famous “natural” sun bed. Falling Water, built by Frank Lloyd is fused so completely into its environment, that it is impossible to separate one from the other.

The late JG Ballard famously said that modernism lacked mystery and emotion, but I always disagreed. Modernism won’t sweep you back to a twilit past but fly you to a heady and exciting present. Interestingly, while leafing through my copy of The International Style (Russell Hitchcock and Philip Johnson, 1932), it struck me how dated much modernist architecture and furniture now seems. I’ll bet one day, in a few hundred years or so, some old coot will be waxing nostalgic over shiny surfaces, chrome trim and streamlined bodywork.

No modernism, please. We're British.

A recent newspaper report revealed how the organisers of the Stirling prize for architecture have been accused of harbouring a bias against traditional design, contrary to public preferences. Apparently, a YouGov survey published on October 16 showed that more than three-quarters of the public prefer traditional buildings. Robert Adam, described as a prominent traditional architect, champions the public. In the same newspaper (The Guardian, Saturday October 17) is a report People Say The Building Hugged Them by Aida Edemarian.
It concerns a charity called Maggie’s, named after the late Margaret Keswick Jencks, who died of cancer. Maggie’s is a countrywide chain of advice centres for people that have been diagnosed with the disease. Chain is perhaps the wrong word to use here because it denotes a string of tacky, poorly-designed hutches built as quickly and as cheaply as possible. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
The late Margaret Jencks was married to Charles Jencks and the Maggie’s buildings have been designed and built by the most prominent architects of the day; Frank Gehry, Zaha Hadid, Richard Rogers, Piers Gough and others. The Maggie’s building that the feature is concerned with has been designed by the Richard Rogers’ firm, Rogers Sirk Harbour & Partner and is nominated for the Stirling prize.
The name of the article is a giveaway – the building hugged them - explaining the reactions of certain visitors to earlier Maggie’s centres.
My puzzlement with the ‘general public’ disdain of ‘modern’ architecture will continue as long as the general public continue to prefer so-called traditional buildings. This, I suspect, will last my lifetime.