modesty without renunciation
liv-instudio and studio flat
micro-living
what do were ally need
permanent, but not for eternity
The search for a new modesty in building, for a self-determined architecture focussed on the essentials and changeable over time, has increasingly occupied me in numerous studies recently and also led to the aforementioned Biennale contribution.
My first building * in 1984 for an artist couple was a manifesto of archaic building omitting everything that was unnecessary, but with high demands on local integration, light and space. In complete contrast to the highly stylised Swiss "box architecture" of the time, with its sophisticated interior, all the comforts of home and emphatically sparse look, this house combines a rural living and working environment in a trivial way and basic craftsmanship. Next to an existing barrack-like artist's studio, a simple mono-pitched-roofhouse was added above an existing vaulted cellar in such a way that a small courtyard group around a terrace was created by turning the house sideways and offsetting its height. Facing a local chapel, the house has a classic symmetrical façade. Although the timber house is built to last and is well insulated, it features some unexpected simplifications in terms of construction, installation and room partitioning: only sliding elements as doors, no standard window fittings, no light switches, only switched sockets with chains on the ceiling, combination of cooker and wood heating, etc. A strip of windows on the gable of the two-storey-high living space bathes the living, dining and lounge area on the upper floor in an almost sacred light.
I see today's widespread interest in "tiny houses", "microliving" or live-work studios as a hopeful sign of a new modesty among the younger generation. Of course, itis also a consequence of modern mobility, working from home and digitalisation. Not only are file folders, photocopiers and archives disappearing from our offices, but walls of books, stereo systems and dining rooms are also makingway for large-screen televisions in our living areas. Administrative work is no longer tied to a fixed office space. But especially when housing estates and residential clusters are increasingly occupied at short notice by different groups of inhabitants they need to be planned all the more carefully. Using and designing spaces and facilities in solidarity with others is essential for a sense of belonging to a place and a community. The screwing together of catalogue furniture must be replaced by opportunities for genuine self-realisation in semi-professional neighbourhood workshops, and the greenery on facades and balconies must be replaced by real planting opportunities in community gardens.
Blinded by seductive futuristic visions for the living spaces of the future, the architectural elite seem to be continuing their flight forward into even more complex, seemingly more intelligent constructions and control
systems. At the same time, we all know that our planet can neither provide the necessary resources nor the necessary space for all people. We also have little time to explore and hopefully realise an urgently needed new simplicity in construction. An unsparing assessment of our situation would raise unpleasant questions: How far are we prepared to sacrifice comfort and how do we define quality of life? How much floor space and furnishings do we really need? Do all rooms in a home have to be heated to the same temperature? What can we still repair and adapt ourselves within our own four walls, which appliances and components can we replace ourselves? How much real freedom of design do we still have in our living and working environment? To what extent are we prepared to fit into predetermined multifunctional floor plans, room and lighting layouts? Are we really better off cooking in showpiece kitchens with luxury fronts than with workbenches with interchangeable appliances? Which furnishings are indispensable for our true self-realisation? How much entertainment electronics do we need?
Many overall urban development plans of the modern era have failed because a radicalsite plan scheme only fulfils its promises when fully developed and can not be adjusted in the continuous process of growth. Urban development is also a collective learning and self-realisation process. During the growth phase, the identity of the place constantly changes. Our historic towns and villages did not emerge from a growth spurt either. A more modest architecture and a thinking in manageable units could help urban developments and residents to shape their common future.
* Maison Fahrländer 1985 Schweizer Hunziker Architekten
