blueprint statements
Jaw-dropping new arts spaces by the world’s greatest architects are taking our cities beyond the cutting edge Words: Adrian Mourby THERE WAS A TIME when statement architecture – the type that really puts a city on the map – just meant building high into the sky. But architecture has changed; and inevitably, the cities with [...]
Jaw-dropping new arts spaces by the world’s greatest
architects are taking our cities beyond the cutting edge
Words: Adrian Mourby
THERE WAS A TIME when statement architecture – the type that really
puts a city on the map – just meant building high into the sky. But
architecture has changed; and inevitably, the cities
with it. To stand out today, buildings must be quirky, characterful
and idiosyncratic.
Some of these, such as London’s “Gherkin”, or
Dubai’s Burj Al Arab hotel, have been constructed for a commercial purpose. Today, however, it is the iconic arts complex that is establishing itself as the “must-have” signature building that every city wants. Apart from causing
wide-eyed amazement at their visual impact, arts complexes are also causing controversy. In Copenhagen, for instance, architect Henning Larsens took his name off the city’s stunning new opera house, which opened in 2004, after his client insisted on the addition of a series of metal ribs to enclose the vast glass façade, which overlooks the Inderhaven dock.
This new home of the Danish Royal Opera is a startling building. Its location, opposite the Royal Palace (one of the perks for Queen Margrethe II is that she gets the best view), and across from the picturesque Nyhavn district, may make it a destination spot now, but it stands in stark isolation on what was until recently an abandoned dockyard island. Its vast
roof overhangs the main building by an extraordinary 32 metres and its primary function is to impress.
Mærsk Mc-Kinney Møller, the Danish shipping
magnate who commissioned the opera house,
demanded the best in materials and design. As the
owner of the vast AP Møller-Mærsk shipping line,
he could afford both. The forecourt is paved with
Chinese granite, chosen for its golden hue to
maximise the scant Scandinavian sunlight, and
the building itself is clad in a pinkish German Jura
limestone with a Sicilian marble-decked foyer.
As soon as you step inside, you’re overwhelmed
by three enormous circular chandeliers (or “light
sculptures”), by the renowned Danish artist Ólafur
Elíasson. The curved back wall of the auditorium,
which is laminated in maple (and chosen by Møller
because it reminded him of a Stradivarius violin),
shines like an enormous polished nut. The auditorium
ceiling is coated in 105,000 sheets of 24-carat gold
leaf to create the impression of a dark yet glowing
void. It’s a stunning achievement, but then at a cost
of 2.3bn kroner (£210m/€310m), it ought to be.
The opera house was an instant hit with tourists and
locals; those who don’t intend to see a performance
are drawn to the building itself, explaining why its
restaurant is fully booked almost every night. The
response is proof that its design hits the spot.
Why Mærsk Mc-Kinney Møller should spend so
much money on a building that doesn’t even bear his
name is an unusual story; but the shipping magnate
is an unusual man. As the 20th century drew to a
close, 94-year-old Møller decided he wanted to give
something back to the city where his family had made
its fortune; the building would also serve as a memorial
to his parents. But what could he build? Copenhagen
had plenty of museums, so his options came down
to either a huge fountain or an opera house. “An opera
house was the most expensive solution imaginable,”
Møller admits. “We thought the cost was completely
beyond our means.” But he found the money and
it took only three years to build; a record for
anything connected with the music world. This was
partly because there were no committees involved;
Møller made all the decisions himself; even if it
meant falling out with the architect in the process.
It is the work of visionaries like him that makes
present-day architecture so exciting. Another example
is Daniel Libeskind, the man behind the acclaimed
Jewish Museum in Berlin, whose Imperial War Museum
North in Manchester has also made an impact. His
ambitious arts space in Dublin, the Grand Canal
Performing Arts Centre and Galleria, is currently being
built; yet another regenerative dockland development,
it’s due to open in 2008. With Libeskind at the helm,
Dublin is getting something iconic: a vast glass
Must-see Architecture
rhomboid, housing five performance venues. The glass
structure will glow at night, illuminating the harbourfront.
The roof will generate solar energy and will
double as a garden, too; all for €125m (£85m).
But the shock of the new isn’t restricted to big star
names. The Agora Theatre in Lelystad, just outside
Amsterdam, designed by the UN Studio, cost a more
modest €12.4m (£8.5m), but its impact is nevertheless
strong, thanks to its distinct engineering. To make
the theatre stand out in this completely flat city, it is
constructed from 40 huge, irregular slabs of orange
panelling; each one is a different shape and rendered
in a different hue of Holland’s royal colour. Inside, the
colour scheme changes dramatically: visitors enter into
the red-and-white foyer before progressing on to the
daring red auditorium, a gradation which ensures that
the venue is as much a part of the performance as
whatever is on its stage. It won’t be to everyone’s taste
but it will certainly prove memorable.
Ben van Berkel, who heads the UN Studio, admits:
“Not everyone loves our work. But the good thing
about producing a building is that – more so than
when a new film or novel comes out – people
keep interacting with it for ages. The product of
architecture can at least partly be understood as
an endless live performance.”
This kind of innovation is by no means restricted to
Europe. The United States, the nation that produced
the skyscraper in the late 19th century, has also
given us Frank Gehry, who made his name with the
Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain, that opened
in 1997. He went on to design the Jay Pritzker Pavilion
in Millennium Park, Chicago, completed in 2004.
Not everything Gehry touches instantly turns to
gold, however. The metal ‘ribbons’ draped around the
central performing space of his Walt Disney Concert
Hall in Los Angeles, completed in 2003, concentrated
and reflected sunlight; and until the flaw was
corrected by adjusting angles, summer temperatures
on the adjacent sidewalks hit up to a hellish 60°C.
The Jay Pritzker Pavilion, however, a daring swirl
of stainless steel that is home to the Grant Park
Symphony Orchestra, has been likened to a flower
slowly blooming, or the unfurling sails of a massive
ship. It’s also representative of Chicago’s bid to soften
the image of its downtown area and create its own
version of New York City’s Central Park.
And daring architecture is set to continue globally.
Next year sees Paul Andreu’s Grand National Theatre
of China, nicknamed “The Egg”, being unveiled in
Beijing for the 2008 Olympics; he’s otherwise best
known for his airport designs, including Charles de
Gaulle in Paris. Also due is Craig Dykers’ New National
Opera House in Oslo, where the building will slope
down into the waters of Oslo Fjord to provide a
concrete beach for swimmers in summer.
Other opera houses under way include Dominique
Perrault’s hugely controversial new Mariinsky Theatre
in St Petersburg; a stunning waterfront Philharmonic
Hall in Hamburg by Herzog & de Meuron; and China’s
Guangzhou Opera House by Zaha Hadid.
Controversial they may be; but it may just
turn out that when the history of the 21st century
is written, its opening decade will be remembered
for its imaginative statements in architecture; an
