Architecture
Stefan Behnisch (Bristol Architecture Centre, till 14 August, closed Mondays)
High-risk strategy
Alan Powers
The docks at Bristol are not a long dis- tance from the city, but close to what is still the centre. Merchants' houses in Queen Square almost back onto the water at the base of the hill that climbs steeply up to Clifton. Along the waterfront, the Arnolfini Gallery began a series of warehouse con- versions which has been continued with the Bristol Architecture Centre which opened late in 1996 and provides a beautiful space for showing drawings and models, touring shows and displays of local interest.
Directly across the water is an empty building site, flanked by the Lloyds Bank building, a crescent design by Arup Associ- ates based on their rejected scheme for Paternoster Square. To imagine the future appearance of this site, one can visit the Architecture Centre and see the designs of the new concert hall and theatre by the German architect, Stefan Behnisch. A slightly unruly looking form, with planes of glass projecting over the water and a hat pulled down around the ears, this project has been evolving away from the public gaze, unlike the Cardiff Bay Opera House and the Victoria and Albert Museum 'Spi- ral' which it in some respects resembles.
Among the new public buildings of the turn of the century, probable and improba- ble, this promises to be rather successful. Stefan Behnisch recently lectured about the project in Bristol and it was clear that his skills are as much diplomatic as artistic. Behnisch works in conjunction with his father, Gunther Behnisch, architect of the Parliament Buildings in Bonn and the main structures for the Munich Olympics. As the local architect David Mellor explains, the British practices who were interviewed for the job gave the impression of having made up their minds what Bristol wanted, while Behnisch gave an impression of openness. All public buildings in Germany require competitions and the process is more nor- mal and effective than the shambles which transpired at Cardiff when Zaha Hadid's design was accepted and then had to be resubmitted. Behnisch expresses concern that awards in these competitions tend to go to practices which have a record of under- taking large and expensive works, which is no guarantee of freshness of approach. When architects describe the evolution of a design, one is apt to suspect post-hoc rationalisation, but here the case seems genuinely different. Concert halls are among the building types offering least roomfor manoeuvre between different sets of requirements, and they are difficult to transform into clear architectural shapes. The Royal Festival Hall offers one paradigm, which is to surround the irregu- lar bits and pack space around them inside a regular external casing. The Queen Eliza- beth Hall belongs to the other school, let- ting the odd bits hang out, which is a higher aesthetic risk. Behnisch's design is more of the second type, although the acknowledged source of inspiration is Hans Scharoun's Philharmonie in Berlin, with its 'terraced vineyard' seating pattern. Like Berlin, the Bristol scheme contains two auditoria under one roof, with administra- tion making a third part. It seems entirely justifiable to assemble these loosely, mak- ing a virtue of the irregular foyer spaces. 'It should hold things together but allow for growth,' as Behnisch says. The design can only be understood in a model, and although its jagged edges could be described as deconstructionist they are almost the opposite, an assembly rather than a disassembly.
So long as constraints of cost do not trim off the interesting edges, Behnisch con- vinces one of his sincere desire to do some- thing which has not so far ever been successfully achieved by a building in Eng- land, that is, a building which dissolves into literal and metaphorical transparency. Expression, freedom and organicism are all words which are commonly misapplied to this kind of design, but they do not really describe its intentions.
Whatever one calls it, it is a high-risk strategy. Regular forms exert a powerful pull in the imagination because they are what our minds like to see, and to propose a completely different approach requires a highly conscious effort. Natural forms are seldom completely regular, yet never com- pletely random. Buildings have to invent a language of their own with some ordering principle to provide legibility, but this often goes dead. The problem is to find the equivalent of the living quality of nature, the same problem that produced all gen- uine styles in the history of architecture.
The exhibition Tayler & Green, the Spirit of Place in Modern Housing reviewed by Gavin Stamp on 2 May will be on show at Somerley- ton Hag Lowestoft, until 3 September (open Tues, We Thum and Sun 1.30-5 p.m.).
want you to sing it to them.'
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