I
feel compelled to express my slight disagreement with Dr. Ami Rans fine
analysis of the mainstream postmodern discourse of contemporary Israeli
architecture (AI #54). Few would disagree with his contention that the main problem
with Israeli architecture is that the image has drifted away from the
content. However, I dispute that there is no longer a connection between the
content of Israeli society and its architectural expression. Rather, the very
opposite is true: both the architectural interpretation and its urban results
are unfortunately faithful reflections of our society today.
Some world history
The
20th century was a world of ideals. Their fulfillment meant that a starving,
illiterate peasantry fighting for its very existence evolved into a
self-satisfied, mainly middle class society, on a never-ending
entertainment-shopping spree. Consequently, in such a society there is no
longer a need for ideology, and functionalist modern architecture with its
minimalist and simplest style has been abandoned in favor of an architecture
loaded with philosophical idioms that only serve to conceal a substantial lack
of content.
Israeli society
Known
for its excessiveness, Israel
isociety has taken just about every Western ideal to its extreme.
Individualism has become Israeli ego-centralism, self-defense has became
violent aggression, affirmative action has created stereotypes, and out of a
lack of faith in law and order has arisen the manipulative social order. Some
of the best examples of such excess are the poorly planned downtown areas of
Tel Aviv and Ramat Gan, as well as the National
Compound in Jerusalem.
In
this disastrous reality of a poor mans urban planning, architects in Israel have
played an important dual role. On the one hand, they agree to live with and
take part in the patronizing bureaucratic processes governing any important
building project. This is
especially so when "interested parties" have the power to manipulate
such processes regardless of the relative importance of the project. In fact,
the more important the project, the less likely it is the public will have a
say in it. In fact, new middle class or working class neighborhoods, and
sometimes even entire new towns, are always "planned", while others
– the "upper classes" – are free to initiate and carry
out building projects that serve their own interests. The basic condition is
that the projects draw as much attention as possible in as little time as
possible. And if local offices cannot supply the goods, they readily hire well
known foreign architects.
The Case of Tel Aviv
Years
ago, I compared two adjacent compounds in Tel Aviv. The first includes the Tel
Aviv Musuem, the municipal library Beit Ariela, and the Tel Aviv Courthouse. The
second houses office buildings – the IBM building, Europe House, Asia
House, America House, and Beit Hadar Dafna. While the first follows a typical
urban scheme where a number of buildings relate to one another in terms of the
relative proportions and the use of similar building materials, creating a
proper urban square, the second exemplifies a chaotic, free-for-all
architecture. The buildings in the compound are alienated from their
environment: each one screams, but none is heard.
In
most Western countries urban development is a natural, gradual process. An
historic area evolves into the commercial downtown, and urban planners grapple
with accessibility, parking, and other infrastructure issues. In fact, few
urban planners are granted the opportunity Tel Aviv had to build a spacious
downtown in an area that is totally vacant, adjacent to the historical quarter,
and with excellent accessibility. I remember this comparison every time I drive
along the cross-town Ayalon expressway, or as Ami Ran once labeled it, the
"Street of the Nation" and realize again and again, how the building
complex that was supposed to be the new downtown of Tel Aviv turned out to be
one of the biggest, most expensive architectural flops in the country. The planning
process spread over two decades: there were plenty of opportunities to come to
grips with the potential of the area. But instead of building a big and
important commercial center of international standards under such attractive
conditions, we are still struggling with such minor problems like forgetting to
leave adequate space for expansion of the existing suburban rail link.
Rabin Square in Tel
Aviv as a phenomenon could supply enough material for several doctorates in
urban planning. It is a wonder how, despite its ugliness and broken, neglected
pavements, it has evolved into "The Place" of Israeli society: a
place to go whenever the national basketball team wins a new title, a place to
gather whenever a political group wants to make a statement. What makes it "The
Place"? The "beautiful" facades of the buildings that surround
it? Its inhuman proportions? The slight connection to the Tel Aviv City Hall?
The
best explanation is probably that it is the right place at the right time: an
extended meeting point between the main streets of Ibn Gvirol, Frishman streets
and Ben Gurion Boulevard – the only street in Tel Aviv that reaches
(almost) the beach. This is actual "urban planning", and the real
reason why the square has evolved into one of citys most successful urban
presences.
The case of Jerusalem
A
comparison between this simple city square and Jerusalems so-called National Compound
leaves one wondering. A collection of some of the most important national
projects that includes the Knesset, government buildings, Supreme Court, Bank
of Israel, the Israel Museum, and the Givat Ram Hebrew University Campus
– yet all together, they fail to comprise the same kind of urban presence
as Rabin Square in Tel Aviv. Here, just as in the Tel Aviv downtown, the
planners missed the chance to create a real center with a spirit. Instead of
preparing a general master plan, they used the time-honored Israeli exercise
where you first build the buildings, and then break your head trying to fine
some sort of unifying concept.
As
long as we continue to fail to learn from our mistakes, the buildings that
represent the Nations governing institutions will just stand there like lost
souls – the fenced off and as impermeable as a jail Knesset; the Supreme
Court standing alone, like the fool on a hill; and the Bank of Israel,
apparently envisaged as a holy shrine for money. Only the Israel Museum
sits at home on its own hill. But then again, this is not surprising: it was
there first.
All
of the above respectable buildings are connected by an infrastructure of roads,
large parking lots and fences galore, but there is no consideration whatsoever
for pedestrians, for the urban fabric surrounding them, or the view, and
especially no interaction between the different buildings. It is highly
probably that the authorities behind these structures never entertained the
notion that proper urban planning could tie all of these diverse structures
into one system worthy of the title "National Compound".
The Case of Ramat Gan
Here,
in the town immediately adjacent to Tel Aviv, the case is even worse. Old plans
from the 1950s that included three or four story buildings were simply
stretched out a little to allow for construction of the tallest skyscrapers in
the Middle East. No thought was given to
pedestrians, public spaces, urban planning, squares, centers, footpaths,
streets, or boulevards. The big losers are, of course, the residents, but some
comfort may be found in the fact that the real estate "sharks"
(entrepreneurs) who hurriedly took advantage of their building rights to try
and make a quick profit will eventually lose, because the resulting urban chaos
will inevitably reduce the value of the land. The distance from this to a total
deterioration to city slums is very short. The paradox is that the whole point
of urban planning is to make sure that urban building and development is not
piecemeal, but rather of metropolitan, regional, and with a little optimism,
national standards.
In the Real World
Elsewhere,
urban centers are usually created when all or some of the following functions
exist – a commercial center, close proximity to the market, government
buildings, a church, a palace, municipal building, and other central axes and
pivots that have cultural and social significance. A few classic examples:
Washington DC
A
very impressive combination of cultural values and a splendid view,
concentrated in a huge urban space. In the democratic capital of the world,
where one of its Presidents (Thomas Jefferson) was a talented architect, the Grand Avenue (the
Mall) is the best example of the right type of urban planning: a home to
government buildings, museums, monuments, memorials, and gathering places.
Canberra, Australia
Walter
Burley Griffin won the competition to plan Australia’s capital in 1912
and dedicated twenty years of his career (which he began working for Frank
Lloyd Wright) to the planning of the city. The master plan is based on a series
of circles, the most central houses the Parliament. An avenue of government
buildings extends from the Parliament building, which was only completed in
1988, and marks the final link in the project that began some ninety years
before.
Brasilia, Brazil
The
project of planning and building the somewhat misjudged capital of Brasilia
began in 1956 when the architect Lucia Costa won a competition. Costa, who
worked on the project with Oscar Niemeyer, was greatly criticized by postmodern
architects for his over Modernist creation. Yet from the point of view of this
article, it is hard to underestimate the importance of the government buildings
axis that resembles Albert Speers (and Hitlers) monumental city of Berlin.
Post Script
As
for the question which came first, the egg – the corrupted processes of
Israeli society – or the chicken – architecture that reflects it
well, there is no answer. It is clear though, that as long as Israeli society
prefers a poor mans architecture – quick and profitable solutions to
long, well-considered planning processes – as long as it is governed by
politicians and city mayors that value only immediate architectural results
that can be completed during their terms of office, and as long as
entrepreneurs who want to make an easy and quick return on their investments
continue to run the show – there is no way we can break this cursed
circle. What I find even more disturbing is the silence of architects who go
about their daily business even when they know that unique historical houses
are being destroyed in Tel Aviv, or when they learn that the entrance to the
nations eternal capital, Jerusalem, is being designed undercover: the
Silence of the Lambs.
