From the grandeur of the forced-perspective Roman columns to the charred veneer of the Bruder Klaus Field Chapel by Peter Zumthor, spectacular architecture is rarely free from sensual experiences that emphasises the qualia of the aesthetic journey. After all, feeling is an integral element of architecture … right?
This is something that renowned architect Peter Eisenman would beg to differ. A proponent of deconstructivism in architecture, Eisenman distances himself from the emotional and embraces the intellectual, arguing that semiotics should take precedence in an attempt to open up new ways to appreciate space. Highly controversial due to his theoretical, non-hands-on approach, he argues that architecture extends beyond buildings, remarking that ‘ “real architecture” only exists in the drawings. The “real building” exists outside the drawings.’ It is statements like these that have rendered him a radical among the community of starchitects, with late architect Christopher Alexander accusing him of “f*cking up the world”.
Inevitably, we would be led to wonder if Eisenman is a sage or charlatan. Let’s dive into his history in order to have a grasp of his philosophy. An acquaintance of Derrida, Eisenman developed an interest in separating structure from meaning. Believing that components of inhabitable structures have been associated with certain ideas by the historical and cultural development of architecture, he treats them as signs that point towards connotations, or the signified. He proceeds to experiment with them in an attempt to create open signifiers that resist unitary meaning and introduce plurality. In that sense, a column might no longer be seen as a vertical support, and a roof need not be concerned about shelter. Notable early works of Eisenman include a series of case study houses. House II contains two separate structural systems, one made of walls and the other of columns, which both could support the building independently. House III was created by overlaying two perpendicular geometries over each other, with one rotated through 45 degrees.
This inquiry into the relationship between form and meaning, characterised by its conceptual purity and modernism, came to a halt following a fallout with the client of House X in 1976. Eisenman found himself reassessing his priorities, saying that “I realised that what was wrong with my architecture was that it wasn’t from the ground.” Renouncing his prior self-contained houses, Eisenman incorporated the physical context to bring even more complexity to his ideas, playing at an urban scale. The Wexner Center for the Arts, Ohio, is a prime example. Eisenman designs competing systems that permeate and form the basis of the architectural configuration. A uniform horizontal scaffold extends throughout the dissected and amalgamated forms. A red brick exterior that alludes to the mediaeval armoury that originally occupied the site opens up to reveal glass panels interlaced between ivory-white metal frames. Dissonant, overwhelming intersections make way for grand, minimalist spaces. These contradictions serve to repudiate conventions in construction and challenge the plausibility of commonplace architectural notions.
Albeit attracting circles of critics, Eisenman’s creations hack at the fundamentals of architecture itself by posing questions no one has dared to ask, embodying his ideals in landmarks such as City of Culture of Galicia and Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. In turn, Eisenman has garnered a reputation of possessing an old-world intellectual capacity fused with a new-world boldness, granting him a spot in the illustrious collective, The New York Five, a group of postmodernists who rose to prominence in the 70s. Such figures have shown the world that architecture need not be an aesthetic practice only concerned with form and function, but rather a multi-faceted discipline that responds to philosophical, historical and cultural contexts.
As one of the representatives of the era of deconstructivism, Rem Koolhaas creates architecture which inverts the impossible. Having graduated from the Architecture Association in London, he founded the OMA in 1975. His remarkable works, which manifest themselves in both the East and West, unanimously presents the essence and features of deconstructivism. Some masterpieces include De Rotterdam, Maison a Bordeaux, Garage Museum of Contemporary Art, Seattle Central Library, Fondazione Prada, China CCTV, and the list goes on. Let’s delve into the his two aforementioned work:
China CCTV Headquaters:
Many recognize the iconic facade of China CCTV headquarters. Connecting two slanted towers, the facade acts as an open structure like a television frame. The design represents the concept of journalism and communication. The entire television process is shown – it links the discrete and scattered signals of single location to a giant web which mirrors its function of international connection. The architecture opposed classicism and turned to postmodernism. Without the traditionally perceived “beauty” of building – being symmetric and geometric, Rem Koolhaas and his team designed it in a new form of beauty which struck the minds of the public.
TaiPei Performing Art Center
TaiPei Performing Art Center is located in Shilin, Taipei. It has an eyecatching facade which combines a sphere, a cube and some rectangular blocks. Three main auditoriums – The Grand Theatre, the Multiform Theatre and the Proscenium Playhouse are combined to the center cube which connects to the back stage. Different observations can be made from different angles when you look at the TaiPei Performing Art Center. Encouraging more visitors and the public to get in touch with the architecture, the art center provides a public loop path for citizens who have not acquired a ticket. Rem Koolhaas and his partner acutely utilises all the space inside the art center for different uses and function of art performance. The Multiform Theater and The Grand Theatre can be used together to form a larger space for performers to perform. The concept of the design is not symmetric nor in line with traditional thoughts towards architecture. The simple combination of geometric shapes creates a complex space for performing. The concept of deconstructivism can also be significantly presented in this work.
Apart from architecture, biography and numerous valuable editions as well as books are written by Rem Koolhaas to uphold his concept and values, such as Elements of Architecture, Delirious New York:A Retroactive Manifesto for Manhattan and S,M,L,XL etc. This is also solid proof of Rem Koolhaas’ prominent contributions to the era of deconstructivism.
Although known for her works in parametricism, which is a sub subdivision of deconstructivism, Zaha Hadid was a leading architect in deconstructivism. One of her earlier works was the MAXXI National Museum of XXI century arts in Rome built between 1998-2009. The building was referred to as “A modernised site which draws on the insertion of a cultural programme. The urban context is expected to change over time and the project is seen as an agent of transformation.” Deconstructivism is a pivotal point in architecture where architects begin challenging the notions of classical architecture involving order, symmetry and perpendicular form which was established in the early 20th century during the modernism period of architecture. The building is a composition of bending oblong tubes, overlapping and intersecting over each other, resembling a massive piece of transport infrastructure. Zaha Hadid began her works of deconstructivism not only for aesthetic purposes but there are meanings behind her aesthetic decisions. For example, the fragmentation of form to form curves and arches respond to the streets of Rome, the steel columns refer to the Bernini Colonnade columns and finally, the use of concrete is a material that the Romans have mastered in Classical architecture such as the Pantheon. The MAXXI museum was a quintessential piece of deconstructive architecture which continues to be relevant today and is considered radical for its time yet highly considered with intricate details that respond to the context and qualities of Rome.
The “deconstructivism” architectural movement appeared in the late 1980s. Unlike modernism which advocates concepts such as “continuity” or “organisation”, deconstructivism focused on avoiding these “constraints”, resulting in much more complex architectures that seem disassembled, lacking harmony or symmetry. Kind of like doodling versus drawing neat lines on a piece of paper. But like all major changes, deconstructivism’s appearance raised debates that are still discussed today, most of them pointed towards philosophies behind the movement.
For example, some believed deconstructivism is harming the architectural world because it’s “fundamentally destructive”, rejecting previous architectural concepts without giving clear values or rules to replace them. What’s more worrisome is the impact it’s going to bring upon future generations, unknown whether they’ll misinterpret and exaggerate certain components of deconstructivism (which will be clearly explained later on.)
Another perspective that disagrees with deconstructivism is that it intentionally causes discomfort and anxiety to the viewers, “an aggression to human senses”; architecture is meant to be customized and provide people with a unique experience, but never to hurt them. Of course, putting it this way is a bit of an overkill as some people wrongly interpreted deconstructivism.
Jacques Derrida, the French philosopher of Deconstruction, emphasized on “discovering values that are often overlooked”- not basing off our thoughts through theories or elements we considered to be absolutely true. In a nutshell, it’s to question everything there is to offer in hopes of getting something better. Same with deconstructivism (which is inspired from Derrida’s theory): it’s not simply to “deconstruct”, as in disassembling architecture and to rebuild them in another way, but a process of constant experimentation to examine the outcome when not following rules found in postmodernism or modernism, innovating the consequences into creating a different view for architecture. Rather than “destructive”, it’s more apt to describe deconstructivism as “unorthodox”.
Ironically, though deconstructivism was described as an architectural movement at the start of this passage, it’s technically incorrect to refer to it as so because architects still interpret it in many ways. Frank Gehry is one of the leading deconstructivist architects in the world, alongside other architects like Zaha Hadid. However, he never really classified himself as a deconstructivist nor agreed with that category in his works. His inspiration never came from Derrida’s theory, instead it comes from sources of artistic self expression like cubism. This resonates with a similar phenomenon in the visual arts world where the audience and the creator’s intention and interpretation doesn’t match up.
It’s also important to mention deconstructivism was never really treated seriously and was seen as a playful and contradictory style of building in architecture. However it does have its merits and its unique style is truly refreshing and ground breaking among all other architectural movements.
If architecture, as a verb, is the act of constructing man-made environments, to deconstruct is to undo the work of architecture. And yet, deconstructivism exists as a prominent architectural movement that has been supported by renowned ‘starchitects’: Daniel Libeskind, Frank Gehry and Bernard Tschumi, whose unorthodox forms and compositions dazzle visitors who look upon their works. But deconstructivism does not take after its literal breakdown suggesting a deconstructed visual design style. Rather, it takes after constructivism — an avant-garde movement that came to prominence in the 1920s.
Constructivists refused to follow mimetic, classical Western styles that promoted realism such as Impressionism or Expressionism. As a movement mainly led by artists from Russia such as Vladimir Tatlin and Alexandr Rodchenko, shaped by Cubist influences, not only did they pioneer abstract art development, but applied the same approach to constructed objects, typography, textiles, furniture and theatrical design. Graphic design, seen in Figure 1 for example, can be read as works of art thanks to their contributions. Constructed objects, meanwhile, form the basis of deconstructivism. Like their art, their architectural proposals broke classical rules of composition and experimented with new, curvilinear forms rather than continue with traditional geometric forms in Figure 2.
Figure 1: Aleksandr Rodchenko, Untitled advertising poster for ‘Lengiz’ publishing house, 1924. Translation: “Books in all branches of knowledge”. The style resembles that of Hannah Hoch’s 1919 piece, Cut with the Dada Kitchen Knife through the last Weimar Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch in Germany which used photographs in a similar fashion.Figure 2: Vladimir Tatlin, Model for the Monument to the Third International, 1919-1920.
Tatlin, Constructivism’s founder, used the movement as a way to contribute to a utopian vision of life following the Russian Revolution. Its form consisted of a glass cylinder, cone and cube, and employed iron and glass in a symbolic representation of a new, Russian machine age. As Arnason and Mansfield write, “it anticipated, and in scale transcended, all subsequent developments in constructed sculpture encompassing space, environment, and motion, and has come to embody the ideals of Constructivism.”
However, the movement was short-lived. Soviet state doctrine, which had previously vouched for Russian avant-garde artists as the pioneers of Modernism, changed its mind in 1921 and traded in the avant-garde for Socialist Realism, ironically returning to the Western mimetic form it had planned on avoiding at first. However, 1928 Le Corbusier had already pioneered the use of pilotis in Villa Savoye, the ground-breaking development that allowed for open plan layouts that would propel Modernism to dominate architecture until the 1980s.
It is no surprise, then, that deconstructivism developed in the late 1980s. Both deconstructivism and constructivism are similar in terms of how they broke the rules of pre-existing architectural styles. In a way, constructivism reads as the rejection of neoclassical architecture, while deconstructivism can be read as an extension of postmodernist principles.
Postmodern architecture had already been experimenting with circular forms seen in Figure 3, but came nowhere near the complex parametric manipulation of building surfaces that deconstructivism conceives, ostensibly due to a lack of computing power until the 1980s, when home computing became affordable. Nonetheless, architects had been developing deconstructivism without heavy computing power as will be examined further on.
Figure 3: Vanna Venturi House, Venturi & Rauch, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1964. Robert Venturi’s house for his mother, Vanna, caused an early Modernist controversy. The trend of employing circular typology is also seen in its infancy.
Classical postmodernism leading up until the 1980s can be characterised to have a playful appearance with the tendency to appropriate culture and historical typology to pay homage to the contextual background behind the building. Venturi and his wife Denise Scott Brown, for instance, are one of them. How did deconstructivism emerge from postmodernism? Architects identified as deconstructivists often deny the classification, such as Rem Koolhaas and Zaha Hadid, but arguably the movement began with Bernard Tschumi’s 1982 award-winning design, Parc de la Villette seen in Figure 4. If postmodernism was all about context, the deconstructivists destroyed that idea (or as Rem Koolhaas once said, [sic]. “Fuck the context.”) Tschumi turned the idea of park — then associated with ‘nature’ — to a programme based on ‘culture’. It was filled with irrationalities that defied Modernist principles, and represented the product of a highly conceptual approach to people’s sense of different scales in and out of Tschumi’s structure.
Figure 4: Parc de la Villette, Bernard Tschumi, 1982, Paris.
Tschumi was not the only one responsible for developing the movement. Frank Gehry had caused a stir four years earlier when he renovated a Dutch colonial house into a symbol of deconstructivism. Once again, irrationality prevailed. Gehry rearranged elements of a typical Santa Monica home in a radically irregular geometric fashion, like placing chain link fences around 2nd floor windows and translating axes of orientation. While the original house is completely intact, Gehry had created the impression of a house in mid-explosion.
Figure 5: Gehry Residence, Gehry Partners, 1978, Santa Monica, California. Elevation viewFigure 6: Gehry Residence, Gehry Partners, 1978, Santa Monica, California. Site photograph.
More architects soon emerged. The late Zaha Hadid, responsible for the Jockey Club Innovation Tower at PolyU (completed 2014), also had early beginnings in geometric deconstructivism. In 1982, the award for a competition for a new private club was awarded to Hadid’s entry, The Peak Leisure Club. The proposal consisted of a multi-layered, horizontal skyscraper that acknowledged Hong Kong’s vertical skyscraper culture — and poignantly proposed to build horizontally instead. Her complex, shattered forms were later associated with deconstructivism. All the works for the entry were done by hand, reading as a work of Suprematist art.
Figure 7: Top: Overall Isometric, Day View, Zaha Hadid, 1982-83. Acrylic on cartridge paper. Bottom: Painting, Zaha Hadid, 1982-83. Medium unknown. Both works show the Suprematist approach taken towards rendering and designing the work.
These examples are only a fraction of the works that flourished in the 1980s. By 1988, a symbolic turning point emerged. The exhibition Deconstructivist Architecture, curated by Phiip Johnson and Mark Wigley, was held at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, which showed a compilation of works and models by spearheaders of the movement: Coop Himmelblau, Peter Eisenman, Frank Gehry, Zaha Hadid, Rem Koolhaas, Daniel Libeskind and Bernard Tschumi. Unlike previous architectural movements like Modernism, led by formal groups like CIAM and Team 10, Philip Johnson curated these architects by their similarities in work, not by architecture formed on a specific set of rational principles.
What similarities did Johnson and Wigley see in their works? Deconstructivism is known for its tendency to fragment structures, manipulate structural surfaces (known as skin), and redefine shapes and forms which results in a style that appears visually deconstructive to the viewer. The deconstructivist desire to overturn Modernist scientific rationality in exchange for irregular geometry and dynamic forms results in an impression of controlled chaos. A visitor to the Bilbao Guggenheim Museum, for example, may be overwhelmed by the large, curvilinear volumes under dazzling Spanish sunlight. However, deconstructivist works have roots in mathematical relationships in contrast to the chaotic appearance that the sum of its parts produce. On top of that, deconstructivists often reject the label, generating further uncertainty around the principles of deconstructivism, but the 1988 exhibition showed that these pieces were chosen for their similarities in respect to:
Fragmenting volumes
Rejecting symmetry and regular geometry
Lack of harmony and continuity in terms of context – works like the rooftop remodelling by Coop Himmelblau in Vienna (completed 1989) does not harmonise with the surrounding classical environment, for example.
Lack of right angles and irregular lines
Use of disproportionate and distorted volumes
Focus on conceptual development and disrupting how architecture and space is perceived.
Deconstructivism continued well into the 1990s and into the present. With the advent of computing power, deconstructivist architecture could afford to explore more curvilinear forms. Architects manipulated curvilinear forms more often, such as Frank Gehry, MAD and Zaha Hadid to explore fluidity, for example, as part of their conceptual approach to architecture in Figure 8.
On the other hand, deconstructivism has evolved to have broader architectural definitions when considering a lack of rigidly defined principles that allowed it to form organically in the first place. As a highly conceptual movement, the movement does not necessarily manifest obviously through formal qualities. Toyo Ito and Rem Koolhaas, for example, prioritise programme in their design. For example, Toyo Ito’s Mediatheque in Sendai (completed 2003) attempts to dissolve the distinction between structure and infill by emphasising open floor plans that created a continuous landscape. Rem Koolhaas’ Serpentine Gallery Pavilion, meanwhile, was designed as a public forum for 24-hour interview marathons, but with the addition of an ovoid-inflatable canopy that looms over the pavilion. In a way, this canopy challenges Modernist architecture’s need for rigid rational forms further, as it inflates and deflates based on weather conditions, and embodies the deconstructivist vision of ‘controlled chaos’. Both considered plan layout strongly, which demonstrates another way that deconstructivism can be conceptual without being visually evident.
Figure 9: Illustration showing support columns in Toyo Ito’s Mediatheque, Sendai. There is no structure skeleton on the surface as typically seen in skyscrapers that use it for structural support.Figure 10: Serpentine Gallery Pavilion, OMA, 2006, London, United Kingdom. Materials like translucent plastic panels are also used here as a way to suggest a balance between openness to the general public and an intimate space for conversation.
In summary, deconstructivism is a complicated movement that is still evolving rapidly thanks to its widespread dissemination and adoption by prominent architects. While it took inspiration from constructivism from the 1920s, it can be seen as an extension of Postmodernism. Both were counter-responses to Modernism, but Postmodernism rejected Modernism’s ignorance towards historical and cultural context, while deconstructivism chose to reject Modernism’s pursuit of scientific rationality and geometric form. First fighting back in 1978 with Frank Gehry’s use of radically irregular geometry in the Gehry Residence and formally recognized as some sort of collective in 1988, it has gone above and beyond to produce most of the eye-catching architectural products of our time, with Zaha Hadid as a leading example whose international works and groundbreaking forms made her a household name. However, not all deconstructivist work aims to use formal features to define itself, though it is generally characterised as so. Rem Koolhaas and Toyo Ito’s focus on plan and programme demonstrate an abstract, more purist approach to deconstructivism that suggests that pure conceptualism is the propelling force behind their works instead. If this is the case, where does conceptualism begin and deconstructivism end? It is too early to tell. After all, deconstructivism has no proper definition in contrast to older movements. One might consider it as an architectural style or a fancy label, rather than a movement with clear, intellectual goals. Perhaps a critic will come up with something more meaningful than this article.
Captivated by the nature of architecture as a reflection of its cultural and environmental contexts, I consider architecture as an approach to generating a thorough and effective solution to the societal, cultural, and environmental problems we face today. Architects are capable of creating an intimate relationship with the user, one that is complementary and interwoven with each other. I co-founded ARCHive to provide a platform for individuals who share our passion and vision for architecture, where we hope to promote the sharing of ideas and exchange of knowledge. I enjoy painting, photography and hiking in my free time.
Entranced by the ability of architecture to redefine spatial experiences, I started ARCHive to share my passion with like-minded individuals, whilst exploring what it means to innovate under a fusion of art and science. Being involved in the art scene from a young age, I view architecture as a means to imbue artistic vision within function and tackle socio-environmental issues by modifying our built landscape. Apart from this, my other interests include painting, aquascaping and baking pastries.
Architecture literally changes the way we navigate and experience the man-made world. As a profession that combines both creative and practical problem solving skills, my main motivation to study architecture rose from a desire to manage Hong Kong’s problematic urban development. Now as an undergraduate student, I’m also interested in adaptive reuse and studying uncontrolled urban development patterns.
Hi, I’m currently Year 12 studying in Renaissance College who loves visual art, especially art that has tons of detail. My interest in art led me to discover the world of architecture, a field that pursues a balance between complexity and functionality. And I love Lo-fi music as they don’t distract me while I’m working 👌
I can’t really remember when I started learning about architecture or when I started loving it. Since I was small, my parents always brought me to Hong Kong University’s degree show. Although I wasn’t into architecture at that time, I know students who made them are amazing and are extremely creative. I wish to be as creative as them and make something that will impress people. My parents are both landscape architects so whenever we travel we will visit the local architectures. In my opinion, good architecture brings people joy and allows them to enjoy the atmosphere of the surroundings. I am so glad to have joined an architecture programme organised by Hong Kong University and meet people who love architecture as much as I do.
HOME | Archive 