CHAT WITH TZADIK AND ELIE ELIAKIM
Architecture, having deteriorated
to the state of just another design discipline, has raised concerns about the
architects social role. The professional sector today consists of a few idols, and a large group of worshippers, who - whether
relevant or not - blindly recycle their architectural components. Within the
frame of this troublesome milieu, I met with architects Tzadik
and Elie Eliakim.
When we visited the Rubanenco
Center for Handicapped in
the Ramat Hahayal
industrial zone, I wondered what it took for the municipality to let you
position such a homey building amidst the pretentious hi-tech surrounding
ones.
If youre hinting that the
building stands out for its modesty, we accept that as a compliment. Today
architects are making every effort to convey uniqueness in order to position
their individual world-views at the core of their creations. However, when
dealing with a structure that must meet particular needs, one must simply
deposit ones ego. Though were as up-to-date as we would like to be, we make
every effort to avoid producing a "branded" architecture. In order to
do so, we are committed to starting every project from point zero, without
recycling ready-made solutions, especially such that might vanish once the
"attractive" buildings are out of fashion.
Assuming branded architecture
consists of elements that have withstood the test of time, how do you select
the wheat from the chaff? Obviously you are not constantly reinventing the
wheel…
Starting from point zero does not
necessarily mean beginning from nothing. The point is that every aspect of our
project has to go through all of the planning stages - beginning with learning
everything there is to know about the subject, understanding the programme, and identifying the important components of the
context. Clearly we have gained experience in many fields, but the
investigation stage enables us to form a more critical approach – to examine
what needs improvement and to verify what is relevant. One of the more
intriguing aspects of such an attitude is the ongoing dialog between the new
project and our past experiences. We try to avoid quoting something in its
entirety, but were not ashamed of adopting a few successful elements. This is
what grants our work a creative flavor.
If everyone avoids quoting
their surroundings, how can we ever formulate an agreeable planning code?
Everything is naturally a matter
of measure. We are not exempt from the inclination to favor what we perceive as
good or appropriate architecture, but are careful to maintain a sense of
critique. The point is to filter out the relevant issues and to grant them,
among other things, a stylistic expression. This is best demonstrated in
conserved buildings; one must conserve what exists but at the same time
maintain a measure of critique, otherwise one just disappears. In 113-115 Rothschild St,
for instance, we tried to integrate the 1930s building with the extensions on
the upper floors. We wished to sustain the minimalist code of the International
Style, but did not hesitate to use new materials.
How then can one identify your
style in the buildings narrative?
There are typifying components in
different projects of the same office which can be identifiable. We simply
prefer to focus more on the content than on the form. In other words, our stylistic expressions are mostly identifiable at
the level of the planning language, that is - whatever in our opinion
represents the important values of the programme.
Can you elaborate on words that
comprise your planning language? Are they consistent, or do they change from
one project to another?
Our language evolves just like
any other process. The vocabulary improves and changes, and whatever doesnt
withstand the test of time, disappears. Lets take for example two different
buildings with almost the same problematic requirements – the one in Ramat Hahayal you referred to at
the beginning of this conversation, the other - the Venezuela-Kalisher School for children with special needs,
currently planned in Tel Aviv. Although the two are similar in their particular
interpretations of the programme, they are not alike
in form because each was intended for a different environment. The first deals
with introducing a workplace with special needs into a commercial zone, while
the school borders on a quiet residential area.
Im still having trouble grasping
how this illustrates a process that begins at point zero? Do you avoid
conveying accumulated knowledge from project to project?
Were referring to our personal
interpretation of Adolph Loos concept of
architecture reduced to zero. According to him, the encounter between the programme and the context is abstract and has no tangible
form. That is, ideas have no specific physical configuration.
This approach is clearly
expressed in our involvement in the development of the Tel Aviv port, where we
preferred to interfere as little as possible with the relation between the
buildings and their context, because the old structures best express the
history of the place. Hence, architectural efforts were centered on emphasizing
the balance in the unique fiber, which has withstood the test of time and
proximity to the sea. In terms of the programme, the
emphasis was on the "here and now", and not on grandiose plans that
may or may not succeed. So far, the success of the project speaks for itself.
