About monuments

Building design

Eike Becker

Our columnist Eike Becker is furious about the competition decision for the Museum for the 20th Century and explores the question of how it could have come to this.

When the jury of the Museum for the 20th Century presented the competition decision for the extension a few months ago, I was first horrified and then furious. Herzog & de Meuron were presented to the world public as the winners. A great architectural firm, giants among giants. So far, so good.

But the design takes the form of a dark brown brick meadow tent. This was supposed to be the outstanding intellectual masterpiece among almost 500 bids? A house of art, a primal hut, a colossal break with the great modern tradition of the Kulturforum. The House of St. Nicholas between the Demoiselles d’Avignon and Malevich’s Black Square. How could this happen?

In this context, I am not interested in issues such as affinities between jury members and competition participants (jurors tend to vote their friends into first place). I am also not interested in the cynicism with which almost 500 other architecture firms were fooled into believing they had a real chance (which is why I did not take part in the competition). Nor am I interested in the people involved. What interests me are the structures that lead to these monumental designs – this example is representative of many other competitions throughout the country.

No matter how experienced a group of jurors may be, selecting from a field of 20 designs is a challenging, confusing task. I know this only too well from my own experience. The first aim of a jury is therefore to simplify the process by sorting out. According to the principle: I quickly know what I don’t want, but not yet what I do want.

Simple, rustic concepts that take fewer risks are easier. They offer little scope for attack and get through this phase better. Rational concepts that can be deduced and explained are more likely to gain consensus. Similar to soccer betting, a 1-0 is much more likely than a 4-3. Clear and simple bets are like the headlines of tabloid newspapers – immediately understandable. Or to put it another way: already familiar archetypes are like pop songs from the 70s. Everyone can hum along.

Architectural themes, such as the illustration of carrying and bearing loads, visible on the façade or in the room, continue to discipline and also offer recognition value. And without narrative, it is not possible today: new buildings can look like an old industrial building or a historic office building from the 1920s, 1930s or 1950s. After all, we live in post-modern times. This narrows the architectural possibilities down to the subtle differences – to the details. Whoever moves first has lost.

Monumentalism

All these demands lead to firm, clear, unambiguous, hard, angular buildings – to simplification and monumentalism. References to history are more important than inventing new forms. When things become confusing, the longing for simple solutions increases. Organizational openness and formal diversity are then no longer in demand. All too often, therefore, designs are awarded prizes that counter the confusion of the world with a heavy, solid fortress. In the process, however, curiosity and cheerfulness, sensuality and modernity are lost – cynicism takes their place. This is why many new buildings in Hamburg, Frankfurt, Berlin or Munich look so affirmative, populist, retrospective and monumental instead of forward-looking, confident and inventive.

Architectural decisions are always also social decisions. It is important not to be forced onto the defensive and to respond to isolation, nostalgia and despondency with openness, curiosity and courage.

POTREBBE INTERESSARTI ANCHE

Fossa Carolina

Building design

Munich

On Open Monument Day, 7,500 monuments across Germany opened their doors – 750 in Bavaria alone. The gate of the Old Mint in Munich was also wide open, with the Bavarian State Office for the Preservation of Monuments inviting visitors to view the exhibition in the Hall of Columns. Accompanied by guided tours and lectures, the exhibition “Großbaustelle 793” ran until October 10 […]

On Open Monument Day, 7,500 monuments across Germany opened their doors – 750 in Bavaria alone. The gate of the Old Mint in Munich was also wide open, with the Bavarian State Office for the Preservation of Monuments inviting visitors to view the exhibition in the Hall of Columns. Accompanied by guided tours and lectures, the exhibition “Großbaustelle 793” ran until October 10, 2014.

Under the title “Construction site 793: Charlemagne’s canal project between the Rhine and Danube”, the exhibition presents the latest results of research into Charlemagne’s moat, the “Fossa Carolina”, as a contribution to the 1200th anniversary of his death. Charlemagne’s moat was intended to connect the Altmühl and Rezat rivers – thus the Rhine and Danube – and thus overcome the European watershed. The text walls are mounted on steel grids and probably refer to the short duration of the exhibition, but at the same time to the large-scale archaeological construction site that is still ongoing. The confirmation of written, contemporary sources on the Karlsgraben using archaeological methods is remarkable. Sharpened oak planks, lateral boundaries of the approximately six-metre-wide moat, were excavated and can be seen in the exhibition in their original form as well as reconstructed in a “walk-in moat”. Franz Herzig carried out their dendrochronological examination in Thierhaupten – and confirmed the dates given in the imperial annals for the years 791 to 793, which report on the construction of the moat in 793.

The Day of the Open Monument in Bavaria was opened the day before at Thierhaupten Monastery. Read more about this in RESTAURO 7/2014.

Hermes – More than the messenger of the gods

Building design
Hermes is often depicted in the guise of Hermes Kriophoros (Aries bearer). Photo: CC BY-SA 3.0, via: Wikimedia Commons
Hermes is often depicted in the guise of Hermes Kriophoros (Aries bearer). Photo: CC BY-SA 3.0, via: Wikimedia Commons

Hermes appears in ancient mythology as a figure who organizes transitions and productively links opposites. As a divine mediator between gods and humans, between movement and order as well as between life and death, he embodies central cultural ideas of the Greek world. The mythological figure is particularly suitable for investigating interactions between cult, art and systems of meaning in the ancient world.

The Greek world of gods is characterized by clearly defined responsibilities, but not all deities can be clearly defined. It is precisely those figures that combine several functional areas that open up a differentiated view of ancient worlds of thought and life. In archaic times, Hermes developed into a central figure of such transitional zones, whose effectiveness manifested itself in everyday religious life, in narrative myths and in visual culture. His significance is not explained by a single field of activity, but by his ability to symbolically bundle movement, exchange and mediation – from travel and trade to the guidance of souls. This makes it a key to understanding the cultural logics that shaped the Greek polis.

Mythological roles and cultic anchoring

In the Homeric hymns, Hermes appears as an early autonomously acting deity whose characteristics are already programmatically developed in the myth. The famous theft of Apollo’s cattle is to be read less as a moral transgression than as a narrative demonstration of intelligence, agility, knowledge of rules and rhetorical skill. These characteristics point to a deity who does not negate orders, but shifts and readjusts them according to the situation. In addition to his function as a messenger of the gods, Hermes clearly emerges in Greek religion as a psychopompos who guides souls on their way to Hades after death. This accompanying function connects the sphere of the living with the underworld and makes Hermes a mediator at one of the most radical boundaries of human existence.
This role found a concrete counterpart in cult practice: herms – cuboid pillars with the head of the god and often a phallic relief – were erected at crossroads, property boundaries, doorsteps and city gates, offering protection, orientation and legal markings at the same time. Such objects combined religious worship with social order, marked borders and paths, protected travelers and traders and made crossings visible and controllable. The cult of Hermes was particularly widespread in Arcadia and Attica in the Archaic and Classical periods; Mount Kyllene in Arcadia was considered the time-honored birthplace, from where its worship spread to other regions. The importance of the herms for the functioning of the polis is dramatically demonstrated by the famous desecration of the herms in Athens in 415 BC, when numerous public herms were mutilated in one night and a political-religious scandal arose that shook confidence in the order, omens and security of the city. The violent reaction of the Athenians – including trials, exile and political purges – illustrates how closely religious symbols, public space and polis-communal identity were linked.

Pictorial representation and artistic concepts

A comparatively stable iconographic repertoire developed in the visual arts of antiquity. Hermes was often depicted as a youthful, athletic body, equipped with winged sandals, a traveling hat (petasos) and the herald’s staff (kerykeion) as a sign of mediation. These attributes refer to speed, communication, trade and protection, but at the same time to a controlled, idealized physicality. Classical sculptures in particular, such as the “Hermes with the Dionysus Boy” from Olympia, which has been attributed to Praxiteles since antiquity, show Hermes as a resting figure with latent potential for movement, emphasizing the balance between dynamism and order. Attic vase painting from the 6th and 5th centuries BC also takes up these pictorial formulas, for example in scenes of soul guidance, errands between gods and humans or the accompaniment of other deities. In funerary iconography, Hermes Psychopompos appears as a discreet but present figure who frames the moment of farewell and structures the transition to the sphere beyond; his travel attributes no longer merely mark profane movement, but emphasize his ability to move safely between different worlds.

Transformations and cultural repercussions

In Roman antiquity, Hermes merged with Mercury, whereby the focus of his responsibilities shifted more towards trade, transportation, economic exchange and the urban economy, without completely displacing older functions such as the role of messenger and psychopompos. This adaptation illustrates how mythological figures remained adaptable to new social, political and economic contexts. In the European Renaissance, the ancient deity – now mostly under the name of Mercury – was received as an allegory of eloquence, learned mediation, inspiration and rapid intelligence. Humanist pictorial programmes drew on him to symbolize intellectual agility, diplomatic skill and rhetorical competence, for example in emblem books, ceiling paintings or courtly allegories. The figure thus became part of a long-term traditional context in which ancient systems of meaning were repeatedly reinterpreted, recoded and functionalized.
Even today, Hermes – often conveyed through the figure of Mercury – stands for mobility, communication, trade and the productive handling of borders, which is why his symbolism remains understandable even in modern cultural contexts. In art and cultural history, the figure proves to be a connecting element between religious practice, visual design and social order. Its enduring presence shows that ancient myths are less to be understood as rigid traditions than as flexible interpretations that can be adapted to changing cultural issues and constantly updated.