Author: Amelia Hansen
For me, the conversations of this past semester’s Space & Place constellations seminar have been an opportunity to contemplate the complexities inherent in the relationship between the figure of the architect and space. Marxist geography tells us that space is not an empty vessel, but rather the medium through which systems of power and production (unevenly) reproduce themselves. Public space is, of course, no exception, and cannot be neutral. At the same time, the figure of the architect has historically been ascribed significant authority in both academic and popular imaginations. Positioned as authoritative visionaries, architects alone are imbued with the power and expertise to construct the scaffolding (on the scales of both the singular building and the city at large) within which we live, work, relax, move, learn, love, etc. Yet, studies in vernacular architecture and architectural phenomenology illustrate that this cannot be true —Architects do not have a monopoly on shaping the contours of space and the built environment, nor are the bodies within it mere puppets who passively enact the architects’ choreography. So, the architect cannot be all-powerful when it comes to shaping space, yet also cannot be power-less, since the built environment is not neutral. With that in mind, how do we construct the figure of the architect? When a monumental new building is erected, how do we understand the intervention it’s making? How and to what effect does it renegotiate the power relations manifested in space?
These are questions I’m grappling with as I develop my MA Thesis the James Simon Gallery. After a lengthy planning and construction process spanning over two decades and involving significant back-and-forth with the client (the Berlin State Museums), public interest groups, and federal funding bodies, the gallery finally opened its doors in 2019 on Berlin’s Museum Island, a complex of 5 national art and archaeology museums in the heart of the city. What started as an international competition for the restoration of the nearby Neues Museum (visible on the righthand side of the image) culminated in a master plan for the whole complex, with the James Simon Gallery serving as the island’s gateway. Its slender, white columns and spacious, three-tiered central entrance staircase make a “civic gesture” according to David Chipperfield Architects—the firm responsible for the project… But a gesture towards what? What kind of public space do they envisage, and how does that translate to what's happening in situ?
Complicating my inquiry is that I have yet to see the building in person. Thus, my sense of the space is mediated by the authorship of those publishing about the gallery online or in print. I haven’t been able to observe people engaging with the site, nor have I been able to experience an embodied perspective of my own. For this reason, opportunities to see vernacular elements within this ‘capital A’ Architecture are curtailed. With the generous support of the Dietrich Summer Research Grant, I will be flying to Berlin this summer, but in the interim, what I am working with is the 'official narrative’ of the building and surrounding space. The richest texts and images I have access to are often partial to a perspective that has been circulated by the firm, the Berlin State Museums, and the press. This leads me to only really be able to engage with this site through a framework of public space in an idealized capacity. Yet, a silver lining of this limitation emerges when we push on the idea of an ‘official narrative’: Because it’s evident that so many factors are going into the production and publicity of this project, the figure of the singular, visionary architect begins to unravel. It’s not just one person who is authoring the narrative, nor indeed the building itself, but rather a whole network of designers, engineers, material specialists, marketing staff, business managers, and administrators, all working to make the project well received.
The nature of that reception is something I’m still trying to get a handle on. When we imagine public space, another complexity is the ‘public' (and publics, plural) part of the equation. Visitors to the Museum Island include Berlin locals, German citizens, and international tourists alike. How do these diverse agents impact and receive the space, and what meanings do they make of it?
This reflection would seem to have produced far more questions than answers, but this can be one of the most generative parts of research. Holding all of the above concerns together and paying attention to the friction that emerges will be essential as I attempt to think through the contribution the James Simon Gallery is making to public space, the layered history of the Museum Island as a whole, the experience of its visitors, and the gallery’s contribution to Berlin's urban fabric more broadly.
Image: James Simon Gallery, Berlin 2019