October 2008 Archives
LOST MOUMENTS – Making & Breaking the Icon,
'History is not continuous. It is made up of stops
and starts, of presences and absences. The presences are the times when history
is vital, is "running" is feeding on itself and deriving it's energy
from its own momentum. The absences are the times when the propulsive organism
is dead, the voids in between one "run" of history and the next.
These are filled by memory. Where history ends, memory begins.'
Peter Eisenman, Essay ‘The Fluidity of Objects’
At the heart of the Russian
Bear, the Moskova Bank Site is a location of destruction and resurgence, where
the battle for monumental permanence is clearly recognized. The transformations of this site in the last two
centuries have been a formal manifestation of the turbulent history of
The ruthlessly defacing or
dismantling of one icon has secured the iconic status of its successor. It is
not the formal expression of the monument itself that makes it iconic but the
ceremonious annihilation of one icon in order to set the stage for the creation
of another. ‘The visual defacement of a monument in an attempt to erase it from
history serves only to preserve the memory of the ill fated through the very
act of its obliteration’. The ’new’ monument is defined by its difference from
the ‘old’ monument. Absence is more noticeable than presence, so through the
act of eradication we place the condemned in the category of memory where it is
further elevated towards the iconic, the unforgettable.
The site represents the sum of all the buildings which have occupied it.
It becomes a site of ‘invisible archeology’, a documentation of all the phases
that have passed over it. In other words the site has the power of ‘perpetual
prestige’ a node drawing the focus of the city irresistibly towards it. It encompasses the memory of all the buildings
that have left there traced on its soil. Each building erected on the site is monumental
either through intent or though the passage of time which has increased its
significance, bestowing it with monumental standing. These two typologies are
both seen in the Palace of the Soviets, a hybrid between a monument that is
created to commemorate and skyscraper which incubates its monumentality.
The destruction or resurgence of a monument is a marker in time, a
formal documentation of an event. Today
the Moskova Bank, arguable one of
The
exterior shell should be a symbol of strength that connects to the DNA of
Moscow. The people require a pillar of
stability, the ultimate social condenser, able to incubate any programmatic
agenda, ending to the perpetual transformations on the site of architectural
reincarnation.
Here are some not very clear thoughts - but I will put them out there anyway!The palace lies between monument and skyscraper. The monument carries meaning beyond the building its self . It is a focal point on a well choreographed site. The viewer is draw to to its character and is given open space within the city fabric to appreciate the unique experience it offers. The Monument stands alone, separated from or dominating any surrounding structure.
The skyscraper has a program, a function that goes beyond that of monument. Unlike the monument, the skyscraper is intended to be inhabited. It can be re appropriated, its program changed. It is usually surrounded by other skyscrapers and is recognised by its height and formal qualities rather than what it represents.
THE HISTORY
In 1954
after the death of Stalin the city of
The
original competition in 1931 had been held under the guise of creating a Palace
for the Soviet people but since Stalin himself had judged the entries, the
palace had become a monument to the Party.
The foundations for the colossal structure had been completed in 1938.
Like a black hole in the centre of
In 1941
when the war began the site was pillaged – the steel re - harvested in order to
make weapons. Today, Muscovites want to
put and end to the ruin that scars their city.
Tired of the cycle of creation and destruction, they hold a competition
for an ‘architectural container’ that can withstand any changes and become an
icon of stability for the Russian people.
This is
no easy task. The container that is to be built here will have to assume the
aura of generations of buildings that where demolished on the site. Any
successful candidate hoping to end the cycle of architectural cannibalism must
adapt and re-adapt to the abrasive winds of change that regularly pass along
the banks of the
THE COMPETITION
BRIEF OF 1954: Following the competition for the
Palace of the Soviets, we the people of
We are
calling for an end to the perpetual transformations on the site of
architectural reincarnation. The transformations of this site in the last two
centuries have been a formal manifestation of the turbulent history of mother
In an
effort to change social patterns we are holding a competition for an
architectural container that will be able to withstand and readapt - a
container that will not degenerate nor self destruct – a container that will be
able to continuously shed it’s last incarnation while preserving its exterior
shell. This container will liberate the site from its evolutionary destiny in
an attempt to put an end to the destruction that the site embodies.
The
structure should be a colossal Palace.
The exterior shell should be a symbol of strength with a programmatically
flexible interior that is able readapt to current and future needs. The people require a pillar of stability, the
ultimate social condenser, able to incubate any programmatic agenda.
THE ENTRY
Boris
Iofan, the original architect of the Palace of the Soviets, was a strong
believer in his own ideals. Having always been a character of political
‘flexibility’ he thought that, as an architect, one should always associate
ones self with the forces of power – who ever they might be.
After the
death of Stalin, he felt that the title of Stalinist architect no longer suited
him. It was time for a change. So, to
show fidelity to those in power and in a slightly desperate attempt to save his
beloved monument he enters the 1954 competition.
Boris suspected
that he had an advantage over the other candidates as his foundations had
already been laid on the very site where the new container was to be erected.
He felt
that that his previous design for the Palace of the Soviets, like himself,
could adapt to needs of any ruling regime.
In 1811 after Moscow had a been raised to the ground by the great
fire and the last of Napoleons soldiers had left the city the Tsar in all his
power declared that a great monument was to be built, signify his gratitude to Divine
Providence for saving Russia from the doom that overshadowed her. The
monument a testament to
Having stated that any building to be built on the ground were the
convent had once stood would be destroyed to see another built in its place. So
that that they would never be forgotten,
the nuns declared the ground to carry the trace of ‘effacement’,
allowing disappearance to appear and so began a continuous process of
transformation.
Following the destruction of the first convent many other
monuments where built on the site. As the Abbess had affirmed all where doomed
but what she had not anticipated was the power given to the each new building
by the destruction of its predecessor.
The site became a true representation of the turbulent history of
The Tsars, the Soviets and the present day powers have all laid
claim to this site. In an effort to erase the past international competitions
have been held, monuments built and destroyed with out mercy or respect. All of
these stages leaving their trace of ‘effacement’ on this eclectic ruin: a
monument to lost monuments and all that they embodied.
'History is not continuous.
It is made up of stops and starts, of presences and absences. The presences are
the times when history is vital, is "running" is feeding on itself
and deriving it's energy from its own momentum. The absences are the times when
the propulsive organism is dead, the voids in between one "run" of
history and the next. These are filled by memory. Where history ends, memory
begins.'
Peter Eisenman, Essay ‘The Fluidity of Objects’
