One of the most renowned architectural projects of the 1990s must be
Bernard Tschumi's design for the Parc de la Villette in Paris. In
1982, the French government offered a prize to fill up an empty spot in
the Parisian landscape. The year after, Bernard Tschumi's design
was selected from the contributions. Agreeing to an invitation by the
architect himself, Derrida in 1985 commented on the project in his article
"Points de Folie - Maintenant Architecture", thus guaranteeing
Tschumi's success.
Fig. 1: Tschumi - Folie
Tschumi destroyed the nineteenth-century notion of a park as a place
where one forgets the city. Instead, he produced an "urban park"
(Tschumi on
http://www.tschumi.com/Villette.htm)
for the twenty-first century. This park meant a radical break with tradition
as the architect moved drastically away from modernist functionalism.
Yet, Tschumi's "folies" and "cases vides",
red cubicles standing at a regular distance from each other throughout
the park (see
fig. 1), often formally remind us of Melnikov's or
Tatlin's Russian Constructivism. On the level of contents, however, Tschumi's
designs couldn't be further away from modernist utopian
thought that saw geometry as a means to adapt the world we live in to
new technological evolutions. Russian Constructivists believed that geometry
could function as an idealistic therapy, that it would guarantee happiness,
harmony and health among the people. The formal references to constructivism
in the Parc de la Villette should therefore be understood as a subversion
of that philosophy by its very repetition. The idea of repetition as a
means of differentiation echoes Derrida's concept of iterability.
The pleasure of superimposition
In a 1987 article, Tschumi formulated his revealing idea of pleasure
in architecture: "[m]y pleasure has never surfaced in looking at
buildings, at the 'great works' of the history or present
of architecture, but rather in dismantling them" (Tschumi 1987:
116). The Parc de la Villette design thus leaves behind all functionalist
and therapeutic nostalgia and is governed only by the "pleasure
principle" (Vidler 1992: 103) of the architect himself. In this
particular project, that principle manifests itself in the superimposition
of three different ordering systems (see
fig. 3). A first layer
consists of a system of
points. A grid is drawn over the
Fig. 3 Tschumi - Lignes
Points surfaces
whole site. Every 120 metres, the horizontal and vertical lines cross.
Tschumi calls those crossings "points". On each point, a "folie"
or folly is built, a three-storey red cube measuring 10 x 10 x 10 metres
that can be used for any activity. These buildings have no pre-programmed
function and may be used as an exposition hall, as a café or as any other
public space. Therefore, the cubes are also referred to as "cases
vides", empty huts. But although every single folie is conceived
of as a cube of 10 by 10 by 10, no single cubicle is exactly the same
as any other in the park. Some folies have cylindrical or triangular forms
attached to them; others lack walls or are turned on their sides. In that
way, Tschumi wants to investigate the often-ambiguous relationship between
norm and deviation. Here again the idea is taken up that repetition may
function as a means to establish contrast and difference. This first layer
of points should allocate space to what Tschumi calls "point-like
activities" (
http://www.tschumi.com), specific activities
that take place within the concentrated space of a folie.
Fig. 2: Tschumi - Coordinate
The second layer, the layer of
lines, is superimposed on the
grid and establishes a space for "linear activities". "Linear
activities" describes the pedestrian traffic that crosses the park
in several possible ways. The centre of this linear layer is formed by
two axes, the North-South coordinate and the East-West coordinate, which
link up the four entrances to the park (a coordinate can be seen on
fig.
2). Apart from straight axes, the layer consists of erratic, undulating
lines meandering through the landscape. At this point, Vidler says, Tschumi
remains indebted to traditional park design. For the straight axis was
a common feature of Classicist park design (think of the Versailles gardens)
and the undulating line that leads flaneurs past most charming sights
was characteristic of Romantic parks and gardens. But again the reference
to tradition is merely formal. One should not forget that Tschumi found
pleasure in
dismantling tradition. Tschumi's axes and pathways
do not possess the same controlling, authoritarian function they did possess
in traditional parks. They no longer limit a certain domain, they no longer
link up a series of meaningful sights, they are no more and no less than
what they are: alternative tracks through the park. Whoever is looking
for monuments or historical significance on his walk, for narrative coherence,
in short, will have to leave the park unsatisfied. The "unbalancing
of expectations" has become reality. The passer-by is forced to
abandon his search for meaning and to surrender to the game of arbitrariness
and chance in which the architect puts him.
The third ordering system that is put on top of the previous two is
the layer of
surfaces. These surfaces provide room for all activities
that need large horizontal strips of land, like sports, games, and markets.
Releasing the repressed
The superimposition of these three layers allows for some form of interaction
between three autonomous systems. Principles of chance and juxtaposition
generate interference and clashes between the systems. The result of this
"superimposition", as Tschumi calls it, is, according to Mark
Wigley, a "series of ambiguous intersections between systems […]
in which the status of ideal forms and traditional composition is challenged.
Ideas of purity, perfection, and order, become sources of impurity, imperfection,
and disorder" (Wigley in Broadbent 1991: 17). It is at this point
that we can return to Schelling's statements on the uncanny as that
which "ought to have remained secret and hidden but has come to
light" (Freud 1955: 225). The inherent purity of the geometrical
system evokes a feeling of rational control and stability. If things turn
out differently, then, and the juxtaposition of several "pure"
systems gives way to impurity, the geometric system's rational control
over that which "ought to have remained secret", weakens.
The repressed leaves its enclosed habitat and thus provokes in us an uncanny
feeling. In the case of Tschumi's Parc de la Villette, the uncanny
does not function as a physical motif that threatens the bodily integrity
of passers-by, but rather as a theoretical concept that helps to undermine
and - indeed - deconstruct traditional humanist and functionalist architectural
discourses.
