HURVA AND THE POWER OF RECONSTRUCTION

Main facade

Earlier today, my friend Anita sent me an article about the Hurva Synagogue in Jerusalem. Dating back centuries, it was reconstructed and re-opened in 2010, after having lain in ruins since 1948.

Actually, the building has been torn down several times, thus earning its name, which means "ruin" in Hebrew. However, it's also been rebuilt, time and time again, not at least because of its importance as a symbol for Jewish presence in Jerusalem and Palestine throughout the ages.

This also meant that the reconstruction was seen as a provocation by parts of the Arab population, who protested the re-opening, claiming that it was the start of a campaign to conquer Jerusalem on behalf of the Jewish people, eventually leading to Israel destroying landmarks of Arab presence in the city.

For others, however, the reconstruction meant recovering a missing piece of the puzzle that is Jewish history. The old synagogue was a symbol of Jerusalem itself, and many later synagogues around the world were modelled on its neo-byzantine design. Getting it back, meant that a memory once again became reality.

This blog is mainly about architecture, not politics, but it's interesting to see how the erection of a building has very different meanings, depending on who you're asking. The Hurva Synagogue is also a prime example of how important historical buildings and cities are to our identities, even when they are (almost) completely rebuilt.

The ruin, 1967

Interior of the building, clearly showing where parts
of the old ruin were incorporated in the new structure.

All pictures: Wikimedia Commons

MUST BE I'M FORGOTTEN YOU'RE NOT THOUGH

The fountain is still standing, 108 years later. Meet you there?

(Architect: Frederick Olmsted. Picture credit: Collection of James Mendola, Buffalo, NY)

INSIDE THE TOWER

Happy new year! The world didn't end this time, either. The above picture was taken by yours truly in September, in a strange room behind the clocks of the tower of Nykirken ("The New Church") in Bergen:

I like how things sometimes are much more weird than we believe them to be.

THE ERECHTEION

Today, I started reading about the Erechteion of Athens (ca. 405 BC), after being reminded of the existence of this strange and wonderful building just a few days ago.

Although mostly known for its caryatids, this structure in my opinion deserves just as much attention for it complex and non-symmetrical approach to the architectural language it works within, what we now call classicism.

After some quick googling, I found out that an amazing new digital reconstruction project is going on, which already has a very interesting website, where I stole these pictures (Thanks, guys!), and will be featured in a future documentary. The website has several trailers, pilots and 3D animations, which for some strange reason have not been published on neither Youtube nor Vimeo, but are very interesting and worth looking at nonetheless.

I'm looking forward to learning more about this interesting and, according to the people in it, potentially revolutionary project.

THE STORY OF A TRELLIS

Rummaging through Facebook earlier, I found this very nice picture of my friend Jon-Arne and his friend Isabelle standing under a beautiful trellis in what appeared to be a park of some kind. I got curious about the age and designer of this piece, and after getting some vague description of "Boston, down by the harbour", I employed my superb googling skills, using such search terms as "Boston harbour", "Boston trellis architect" and "Columbus park architect", and I eventually found what I was looking for.

It appears the park and the trellises was somehow threatened by a complete redesign in the early 2000s, which resulted in a preservation campaign and several articles written, including this very enlightening one. I guess it went ok; at least the trellises were saved.

Architects were Sasaki Associates, which seems to be a very interesting practice, especially when it comes to landscape architecture. Their project description with more pictures is here. The park was built in 1976 as an initiation of a major waterfront redevelopment in Boston, clearing old sites and roads to connect the city with the water in a mindful combination of greenery and open space. As a reflection of the site's past as a harbour, materials such as wood, iron, brick and granite are used in a diverse manner throughout the site. I especially appreciate how the space between the water and the streets going down towards it is kept completely open. I imagine this provides people with an opportunity to see the water from within the urban fabric and get a feeling of the landscape.

The beautiful geometry of the trellises oveergrown with Wisterias seem to fascinate many people. There's a "Trellis lighting" here every December, people seem to like hanging around next to them, and an abstracted version is even the logo of Friends of Christopher Columbus Park.

Picture credits:

I: Jon-Arne Bilben Haughseth
II: FOCCP
III: Sasaki Associates
IV: Sasaki Associates
V: FOCCP

LØKKE BRIDGE

I was hanging around Sandvika (Yes, I know) the other day, when I stumbled upon this beautiful brigde, spanning and being reflected by the Sandvika river. I googled around a bit after taking the picture, and it turns out this is Norway's oldest cast-iron bridge, designed and built by Count Herman Wedel Jarlsberg in 1829. It spans 22,5 meters, is 5 meters wide and is only used for pedestrian traffic.

Already partly hidden by greenery, the bridge now looks pastoral and cute, but I imagine that it must have looked very fresh and modern in its time. I like the circle-shaped holes in the sides, which, I suppose, are there to take some weight off it. While cast-iron is a great material, often providing a handmade look and a finely textured surface, it's also very heavy.

I also found out that I'm not the only one who's been inspired by this subject. In the winter of 1895, one of my favourite painters, Claude Monet, spent some time in Sandvika, and among his paintings from the time you'll find this one, depicting Løkke bridge in it's original location further down the river. You can find versions of it both in the Norwegian National Gallery and at the Art Institute of Chicago.

THANK YOU

Sometimes, it's just the appropriate word to say.

"and even if my house falls down now"

The sugarcoatedly cute and colourful music video for this song, released January 2001, must have made preservationists out of many a pop-loving teenager back then. (I mean, couldn't they at least have moved the house instead of tearing it down?)

BISLET PUBLIC BATH

My sister and I went swimming yesterday!

In 1915, architect Harald Aars won the competition for the design of a new public bath in the neighbourhood in Oslo called Bislett. Construction of the brick-walled, concrete-floored building was completed in 1920, and it's still in full use.

The facility was considered to be among the most modern and advanced in Scandinavia at the time, and  the "Classicism meets Nordic New Baroque"-architecture suggests a temple of health and natural well-being for the whole population, for whom bathing was considered a privilege at the time, but also necessary to combat diseases, and to provide exercise and "strengthening of the body". For an illustration of the Norwegian people, pay notice to my sister, standing in front of the car in the above picture.

The whole building, including sculptor Anders Svor's statue "After the Bath" outside the main entrance, is protected by the strictest Norwegian preservation laws, called "fredning". (Sorry about the Coca-Cola logo being included in the picture; I don't even like that company, as they're mean to Indian farmers.) It was owned by the municipality of Oslo until 2005, when the right-wing city government sold it off at a loss. It is now owned by a famous Norwegian investor, and is well-managed by friendly people. The alterations done to modernize, however, are crudely done and aesthetically offensive and/or uninteresting. The investor, Olav Thon, is known for not caring too much about old buildings and sabotaging preservation.

There are several artworks throughout the building, including more statues and stained glass windows. It appears not all of them have titles.

There's also an old clock at one end of the main hall, hand painted and signed "H. I. KNOPH, KRISTIANIA", Christiania/Kristiania being the name of Oslo in the period 1624-1925.

The old changing stalls, seen to the right in this picture, are made from wood and painted pink. They're not currently in use. The railing is made from poured concrete and terrazzo, borrowing its organic lines from the Baroque.

The walls have beautiful ceramic and marble tiles. (I prefer the ceramic ones, as the marble tiles are too shiny, and don't look they were there from the beginning.)

The building also has lots of corners and winding paths and nooks, like this one, just above the entrance. Currently, it is occupied by a chair and an electronic plastic object telling about workout hours. I wonder what the space was used for originally?

The main hall has a glazed ceiling and is lit mainly by natural light, and almost all the other rooms have big windows with opaque glass, admitting generous amounts of sunshine. I also like the slightly absurdly detail of having two clocks, which also underlines the weird symmetry.

Bislet public bath (that's "Bislet bad" in Norwegian) is definitely worth a visit if you're in Oslo, and not too expensive to visit. Apart from the interesting architecture, it also has a pool with a counter-current, a jacuzzi, saunas, yoga classes and nice hot showers.

GO FORTH

Decay and optimism for a new decade.