Reset at Gleisdreieck, Berlin

Building design

Communication was an important issue in the design of the Gleisdreieck park. Photos: Julien Lanoo

A new public park has been created at a long-unused railway yard in the center of Berlin. The Gleisdreieck Park is a flagship project that gives the metropolis a chance to shape its image as green city.

A new public park has been created at a long-unused railway yard in the center of Berlin. The Gleisdreieck Park is a flagship project that gives the metropolis a chance to shape its image as green city.

After an eight-year-long planning and construction process, the last major area of unused land in the heart of Berlin was recently made available to the public. The opening of the eastern part of the Park at Gleisdreieck in 2011, and the western part this year, turned what was previously derelict and informally appropriated land used by a small number of people into a public park attractive to many.

The railway area belonging to the former Anhalter and Potsdamer goods station, i.e. the so-called Gleisdreieck, was once an important transport hub, but was not used after 1945. The old railway lines running through the middle of a densely populated residential district were left to themselves and an ecologically valuable pioneer forest developed. During the 1970s planned highway construction was fortunately prevented due to the formation of a powerful citizen’s initiative. In the 1990s part of the site was used as a storage area for building materials needed at the huge adjacent Potsdamer Platz construction project, and compensation payments for this use were then used to help finance construction of the park.

Room for interpretation

The main elements of both parts of the park are extensive lawn and meadow areas. These are bordered by smaller areas that have a variety of specific uses, such as rest and relaxation, meeting and communicating, recreation, sport, and exercise. The basic structure of these new parks is modelled on traditional concepts of Volksparks, but is adapted to fit today’s needs. The park’s planners, for instance, neither wanted to leave the potential use of its space too open and undefined, nor stipulate exactly what should occur there. The main idea was to entice people to use the park while allowing ample room for interpretation. Whether the bright green Tartan surface is ultimately used for skating, playing football and basketball, or simply as an unconventional place to sit and -relax, is left to the imagination and preferences of its users.

Another objective was to create a park that had two distinct speeds. The broad main pathways are organized in bands that give both fast bicyclists on the national Berlin-Leipzig cycle route and dreamy walkers their own paths to follow. Another issue that played a big role in the planning of the park was communication. The creation of interfaces for communication is an important prerequisite for the functioning of a pluralistic and multicultural urban society that now exists in nearly every major city. The recurring and modified motif of stages and grandstands provides users with a variety of ways in which they can interact with one another. It’s really all about seeing and being seen, which is a good starting point for a well-functioning state of coexistence.

For more information on wilderness as an inspiration and the parks influence on the image of the German capital, read on in Topos 85 – Open Space.

POTREBBE INTERESSARTI ANCHE

Ground plan morphology: Theory of spatial distribution

Building design
Modern high-rise building with clear lines and structured façade design - an example of well thought-out floor plan morphology.

How interior design shapes the DNA of living together. Photo by Adil Edin on Unsplash.

Floor plan morphology sounds like a dusty theory of form for theorists or a nostalgic look back at Bauhaus drawing tables? Wrong. Anyone planning spaces today is no longer just designing square meters, but orchestrating the DNA of living together – in the midst of digital, sustainable and global discourse. Floor plan morphology is back on the stage – as a tool, as a weapon, as a risk. And it challenges our professional image as rarely before.

  • The formal theory of spatial distribution shapes the elementary quality of architecture and urban planning – it is far more than just optimizing space.
  • Germany, Austria and Switzerland are facing a renaissance of floor plan thinking, driven by sustainability, digitalization and new user requirements.
  • Artificial intelligence and parametric design are fundamentally changing the rules of spatial distribution – and bringing new degrees of freedom, but also risks.
  • Sustainability today means flexible, circular, resource-saving floor plans – and that requires in-depth technical knowledge.
  • Floor plan morphology is at the center of fierce debates: between standardized efficiency, social diversity and architectural vision.
  • Global trends, from co-living to open building, inspire and provoke the German-speaking discourse.
  • The profession needs to reinvent itself – between digital simulation, participation and cultural responsibility.
  • Those who ignore the formal theory of spatial distribution are not planning for the future, but for demolition.

What is ground plan morphology anyway – and why is it suddenly sexy again?

In the digital age, floor plan morphology, i.e. the systematic study of the spatial arrangement and organization of areas, was long considered a discipline for nostalgics. Who needs complex room diagrams on the screen in the evening when BIM software and parametric tools seem to automate everything? But reality shows: Especially today, when space is scarce, demands are high and uses are hybrid, floor plan morphology is more relevant than ever. It determines whether spaces remain flexible, usable, transformable and economical – or whether they are already problematic at the time of completion. In the major cities of Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the topic has long been back on the agenda. The question of how space can not only be utilized to the maximum, but also distributed intelligently, is driving investors, developers and planners alike.

What distinguishes a banal hallway from a clever access corridor, a standard apartment from a sustainable living space? It is the morphology of the floor plan. It determines how rooms relate to each other, how light, air and movement flow, how privacy and publicity are balanced. While dogmatic typologies such as row or point development used to dominate, hybrid, flowing floor plan solutions that respond to diverse lifestyles and forms of work are increasingly common today. This is not an aesthetic end in itself, but a response to fundamental social upheavals – from demographics to climate change.

Digitalization seemed to democratize the floor plan – anyone can move rooms and put up walls with a few clicks on a tablet. But the truth is: algorithms often only deliver standardized templates, not spatial quality. The real art lies in filling the new technical freedom with architectural intelligence. In understanding morphology not as a rigid set box principle, but as a flexible system that responds to the imponderables of life. This is precisely where the new relevance of ground plan morphology begins.

In Austria and Switzerland, traditionally strong in experimental housing construction, innovative floor plan solutions have long been part of the building culture. Cluster apartments, adaptable commercial spaces and educational buildings with open learning landscapes are being built there. Germany is slowly following suit, driven by a shortage of living space, new forms of work and the search for sustainable solutions. Floor plan morphology is becoming a key discipline – not only in residential construction, but also in office, educational and healthcare buildings.

The return of floor plan morphology is therefore not a retro trend, but an expression of a very fundamental realization: spaces are not arbitrarily movable surfaces, but complex social, ecological and economic systems. Those who ignore this deliver interchangeable architecture and miss out on the future of the profession. The floor plan is sexy again – and those who don’t deal with it are planning ahead of the market.

Digital tools, AI and the new power of simulation

Digitalization has radically changed floor plans. What used to be drawn with tracing paper and ink is now created in digital tool landscapes that range from BIM models and parametric algorithms to AI-based generative design systems. But technology is not an end in itself. It forces planners to deal with the possibilities and limitations of the new tools – and to sharpen their own creative signature.

Today, artificial intelligence can generate thousands of floor plan variants in seconds, analyse usage profiles, carry out lighting simulations and suggest development optimizations. But if you simply let AI do its thing, you get average – not innovation. The challenge lies in defining the right parameters, intelligently balancing conflicting goals and critically scrutinizing the digital output. After all, the best algorithms are no substitute for an architectural approach. They are tools, not oracles.

However, the new simulation possibilities also open up opportunities. For example, digital twins can now be used to test variants of buildings in real time: how do traffic routes change when the access core moves? How does an open floor plan structure affect the indoor climate? Which room layouts offer the greatest flexibility for conversion? These are questions that could previously only be answered by expensive prototypes. Today, they are part of everyday planning – at least in offices that have embraced the digital transformation.

In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, more and more projects are being created in which the floor plan morphology is negotiated in digital space from the outset. Competition entries are no longer judged solely on the basis of floor space, but also on the basis of convertibility, circularity and life cycle performance. Planners must familiarize themselves with new tools, but also with new evaluation standards. This requires technical know-how, but also critical reflection.

The downside: the triumph of simulation harbours the danger that the floor plan will degenerate into an optimized but lifeless matrix. Where everything seems measurable and simulatable, architectural intuition is in danger of disappearing. The challenge is to use technology as an amplifier of one’s own creativity – and to create spaces that are more than the sum of their parameters. Those who fail to do this will be overtaken by their own software.

Sustainability, flexibility and floor plan morphology as a resource discipline

Sustainability is the new dogma in the industry – and floor plan morphology is its underestimated tool. After all, what use is the best energy concept if rooms are obsolete after ten years? Anyone building today must design spaces in such a way that they are not only suitable for current but also future uses. This requires floor plans that are adaptable, divisible, collapsible and demountable. The distribution of space is becoming a discipline of circularity – and that requires a radical rethink.

In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, there is a growing awareness of flexible floor plan concepts. Modular systems, open structures and reversible circulation systems characterize innovative projects. But the road is rocky: building regulations, investor interests and usage dogmas are slowing down progress. Space optimization is often at odds with long-term usability. The floor plan morphology becomes a minefield between economic pressure and sustainable responsibility.

Technically, the new way of thinking about floor plans requires profound knowledge: Structural design, acoustics, fire protection, building technology – everything must be considered from the outset. If you treat the floor plan as an isolated variable, you will end up with structural damage, usage problems and premature demolition. The morphology of room distribution is the bridge between design and operation, between architecture and facility management. And it is the basis for the circular transformation of existing buildings.

The debate about sustainable floor plans is not only technical, but also political: who decides how much space is allocated to whom? What standards apply to accessibility, community, retreat? What weighs more: space efficiency or social mix? In Switzerland, for example, cooperative models have produced innovative floor plan solutions – in Germany, the fear of experimentation still dominates too often. But the pressure is growing: those who do not plan for flexibility today are building for stagnation.

Global role models such as the open-building approach or co-living concepts are inspiring the German-speaking discourse. They show that Floor plan morphology is not an end in itself, but a prerequisite for social, ecological and economic resilience. Anyone who only plans for the here and now is stuck in the 20th century. The future demands floor plans that can change – and planners who see this as an opportunity.

Architecture profession in transition: between standardization and vision

The new requirements for floor plan morphology are profoundly changing the profession of architect. In the past, whoever mastered the floor plan was in control of the project. Today, the floor plan is a space for negotiation between disciplines, interests and technologies. The profession must acquire new skills: digital simulation, participatory processes, life cycle assessment, scenario planning. The classic image of the lone designer is becoming a caricature – what is needed is the moderator, the curator, the systems thinker.

Standardization – be it through DIN standards, BIM objects or investor manuals – threatens to degrade floor plan morphology to a mere administrative process. But this is precisely where the potential for resistance and innovation lies. The best projects are created where planners know the norms but consciously transgress them. Where they show that diversity, openness and changeability are not enemies of economic efficiency, but its prerequisites.

In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the debate is fierce: How much freedom can the floor plan tolerate? How much standardization is necessary to create affordable living space? The answers are as varied as the projects themselves. But one thing is clear: anyone who relies solely on formalities will be overtaken by reality. Users are becoming more demanding, lifestyles more diverse and markets more global. Floor plan morphology is the key to shaping this change – and not just managing it.

Visionary ideas often come from unexpected places: start-ups are developing plug-and-play floor plans for temporary living, co-working providers are experimenting with adaptive spatial landscapes, educational buildings are focusing on open learning clusters. Digitalization is accelerating these developments – but it can also slow them down if it freezes into technocratic monotony. The architecture profession is faced with a choice: co-design or be managed. Floor plan morphology is the battlefield on which this decision is made.

In the global discourse, the formal theory of spatial distribution has long been an issue: megastructures with flexible spatial grids are emerging in Asia, parametric models dominate in the USA and cohabitation is being reinvented in Scandinavia. German-speaking countries are faced with the challenge of finding their own answers – without betraying their own building culture. The profession must be courageous, uncomfortable, but also self-critical. Those who master the morphology of floor plans not only design spaces, but also the future.

Conclusion: Those who ignore the formal theory of spatial distribution lose out

Floor plan morphology is back – as the key to sustainable, flexible and future-proof architecture. Digitalization, sustainability and social change make the theory of spatial distribution a strategic tool. It requires technical know-how, creative intelligence and the courage to engage with new processes. Those who only plan spaces today are building for the past. Those who understand morphology as a discipline create spaces that last. It is time to question the old dogmas and make use of the new possibilities. Because the formal theory of spatial distribution is not a relic – it is the DNA of tomorrow’s architecture.

Gray colossus

Building design

Worth more than a glance: the ceiling painting

Having barely arrived in Rotterdam, Baumeister Academy winner Maxi Graber shares a photo of the Cornucopia painting in the Markthal on the Academy Instagram account. In 2014, Maxi’s internship office MVRDV built the first market hall in the Netherlands. Reason enough for us to take another look at the gray colossus.

Having barely arrived in Rotterdam, Baumeister Academy winner Maxi Graber shares a photo of the Cornucopia painting in the Markthal on the Academy Instagram account. The post literally goes through the roof. In 2014, Maxi’s internship office MVRDV built the first Markthal in the Netherlands and covered it with a large arch and 200 apartments. Reason enough for us to take another look at the gray colossus. Our editor Sabine Schneider traveled to Rotterdam in 2015 and reported on her visit in the Baumeister March issue. Here is an excerpt from her report.

It won’t be easy. I start my journey to Rotterdam with tense anticipation. I know the market hall in Rotterdam well from publications, and my opinion is clear: it’s a monstrous construction that obviously wants to make itself smaller than it is on the outside with its cladding of camouflage gray granite slabs, but screams all the louder on the inside with a kitschy sky of giant fruits. In cross-section, the building forms a half-baked horseshoe, a tunnel that leads nowhere, an oversized fairground stall with apartments on the hump. A new typology, as the architects are promoting the project? Save us from that.

In fact, my criticism of the façade and form is now far less important when I am on site: the ribbon-like square of the Binnenrotte in the center, under which the tracks run and which therefore cannot be built on, appears cheerless, empty, draughty and not well defined on five out of seven days when there is no weekly market. The large, gray market hall has the same problem as the surrounding buildings: it is an island between islands – it lacks urban density. It does not appear permeable, but stands slightly elevated a few steps above the square, its reflective panes closing off the huge gate, sealing it off. It can only be entered through three narrow revolving doors that you have to squeeze through.

MVRDV have set up simple steel scaffolding as market stalls in Hall 96 on an area roughly the size of a soccer pitch. It’s fun to look, try, stroll and buy here. There is everything from currywurst to exclusive steak, from Dutch cheese to Turkish sweets. A good idea is to set up a terrace on the roof of the stalls, creating a “tasting room” on the roof. Something like this is often missing in traditional markets, because you work up an appetite while strolling around. However, it also brings the market closer to one of the usual “food courts” in shopping malls.

Restaurants, cafés, a cookery school, a household goods store and a wine shop have moved into the first two floors of the long sides of the tunnel. The interior façades of the 102 rental apartments and 126 condominiums, all of which have windows overlooking the market and a terrace to the outside, curve above. The higher you climb in the building, the more oblique the view of the market becomes, until at the very top of the 24 penthouses on the eleventh and last floor you can look straight down vertically.

Concept and compromises

But how did this design come about? Rotterdam is planning to renovate the former old town district and held an investor competition in 2004. The developer Provast submitted the design by MVRDV and won first prize, as the architects were able to combine the two specified residential slabs with a market. Priority was given to housing; there was no budget for a market hall. This resulted in the horseshoe shape, as the upper apartments, which close the arch, were too deep for good lighting – so the shape was slanted at the top. Towards the first floor, the storeys widen again in order to enlarge the retail space as required by the developer. In this way, the constraints did not shape the architectural idea, but deformed it like chewing gum.

You can find the full report here!

And you can find out more about Baumeister Academy there!

The Baumeister Academy is supported by GRAPHISOFT, BAU 2019 and Schöck Bauteile GmbH.