1939: Architecture

Exposition Architecture.

With two World's Fairs going on at the same time in the United States, exposition buildings were the spot architectural news of 1939. Never before has so much money been poured into such temporary magnificence.

Few Fairs have had so beautiful a site as the Golden Gate Exposition's island in San Francisco Bay. But instead of exploiting this natural setting with sheltered terraces and great glass surfaces, most of the buildings presented blank walls to the view of bay, city and mountains, a procedure justifiable only on the windy side of the island. One of the few buildings to take full advantage of a waterfront site was W. W. Wurster's attractive Yerba Buena Club.

Gardner Dailey designed a fine pavilion for Brazil, and Ernest Born's San Joaquin Valley Building with its elliptical glass front was very attractive. The Hall of Floriculture, one of the few frankly temporary buildings of the Exposition, was completely enclosed by a new glass-like synthetic material stretched over a light wood frame hung from external wood trusses.

Behind the pleasantly simple natural plywood exterior of the United States Government Building (according to many visitors, the best building of the Exposition) were exhibitions of special interest as regards both content and presentation. For the first time in the history of government participation in fairs, the Federal exhibits were integrated to tell a vivid, thoroughly intelligible story of all the branches of government activity. The exhibition of Indian Affairs, designed by Rene d'Harnoncourt and Henry Klumb, was the most exciting single exhibition of the entire exposition.

But these buildings were exceptional in their timeliness and aesthetic integrity. In general, an all too conscious effort was made to capture the spirit of the traditional architectural styles of the Pacific Basin. Instead of seriously using regional materials and building techniques, the Architectural Commission chose to produce romantic, superficially exotic fantasies with all the textural and structural interest of papier-mache.

The stream-lined slip-cover style of the Fair-built buildings at the New York World's Fair is hardly more plausible as modern architecture than its more frankly fantastic California counterpart, and, because of its modern pretensions, is infinitely more dangerous as architectural precedent. (In justice to their designers, mention must be made of the extraordinary stipulations of the Board of Design; that all Fair-built buildings be artificially lighted, and that they be surfaced with painted plaster-board.) These buildings have a lack of human scale, of inherent order, of surface interest, which is hardly compensated for by their violent color. Their essential dullness is not mitigated by the uninspired site-plan of the Fair.

But not all the Fair-built buildings were of such questionable merit. There were some simple yet imaginative foot-bridges and information booths. And the Trylon and Perisphere, by Harrison & Fouilhoux, although a rather provincial out-growth of the cult of 'pure form' of the twenties, formed an adequate center-piece for the lavish architectural display.

Other good Harrison & Fouilhoux buildings were the Electrified Farm with its simple roof-lines and excellent use of glass and the Electric Utilities Building with its pleasant lounge and glass tunnel leading out through a giant spillway.

The Consolidated Edison Building also relied on water for its architectural interest. In front of the long unbroken curve of its blue facade was a 'Water Ballet,' a fountain display by the modern sculptor, Alexander Calder.

The success of the Children's World, perhaps the most distinguished American-designed work, can be traced to the fact that it was all in the same architectural hands: George Howe of Philadelphia, with Stonorov, Spigel & Bogert as associates. Other interesting buildings were the Distillers' Building by Morris Sanders, the Aviation Building by William Lescaze, and the triangular Petroleum Industries Building by Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, who also designed the gay outdoor exhibit for the Budd Company. Another exhibition which can really be considered as architecture was the Pennsylvania exhibition, arranged by Gropius & Breuer, Bayer & Schawinsky in startling contrast to the replica of Independence Hail which housed it.

The foreign pavilions presented a much more lively scene than the American. Many people think that Sven Markelius' delightful Swedish Building was the best-designed building of the Fair. Certainly no one who had seen it would soon forget its inviting entrance, its fine flow of space from interior to exterior, its very human scale, or its unusual, yet thoroughly craftsmanlike use of natural wood. The straightforward simplicity of this building is characteristic of the best contemporary Swedish work and has little to do with the 'Swedish modern' superficialities now so fashionable in this country.

Another fresh and attractive building was the Finnish Pavilion, designed by the famous Finnish architects and furniture-designers, Alvar and Aino Aalto. Although the architects were limited to 'interior architecture' as the pavilion occupied space in the Fair-built Court of Nations, their design was a self-sufficient example of the most advanced trends in modern architecture. By using curving diagonal screens and balconies they were able to transform a narrow rectangular room into a dynamic play of volumes in three emphatic dimensions. The various planes were dramatized by the rich textures of wood used in new and ingenious ways. There were surfaces covered with half-round vertical battens, others with plywood sheets; and one wall was paved with tree-sections laid like random masonry. Every detail was freshly studied and the designers' joy in the material was directly communicated to the observer.

The third outstanding foreign building was that of Brazil, designed by Oscar N. Soares and Lucio Costa, former pupils of the great French modernist LeCorbusier. With its freely curving plan within the regular rhythm of the supporting columns and its fine use of luxurious materials, it was certainly the most architecturally elegant of all the pavilions.

Lescaze & Weber designed a charming pavilion for Switzerland, and the shamrock-shaped Irish Pavilion by Michael Scott was very attractive. The lacy metal tower of the Polish Pavilion deserves mention for the originality of its design and the excellence of its execution.

Iofan and Alabian wanted their building for the U.S.S.R. to be, above all, impressive. And in spite of its somewhat heavy style it succeeded in being one of the most monumental buildings of the Fair.

The Shelter Section was originally to have been an object lesson in good community planning and modern architecture; instead, it was a hodge-podge of unrelated houses. A. Lawrence Kocher's Plywood House and the House of Glass, by Landefeld and Hatch, were among the most interesting.

'Traditional' and 'Modern.'

Whereas ten, or even five, years ago all buildings could be classified as either Traditional or Modern, in 1939 this line of demarcation is no longer so absolute. The best 'traditional' work tends to borrow from 'modern' architecture its concern with economical site-use, advantageous orientation for sun, wind and view, simple roof-lines, extensive use of glass, and sometimes even the open, flexible plan. The standards set by the Federal Housing Administration have helped to raise the general level of small-house design.

On the other hand, modern architecture itself no longer has the white, impersonal boxiness which characterized the less inspired modern work of the twenties; there is a new feeling apparent in the best contemporary work all over the world. 'Functionalism' is becoming the basis for design rather than an end in itself.

A new regionalism is developing within what was once, with justice, called the 'International Style.' Architects are turning to folk-architecture for lessons in straightforward use of native materials, in adaptation of building form to climate. Although they continue to experiment with new and appropriate uses for the new materials and building-techniques made possible by the machine, architects have rediscovered natural materials, with their advantages of pleasant texture, economy, durability, and, in the case of wood, suitability to light, scientific construction.

As in the other fine arts, there is a tendency to abandon an all too rigid adherence to the right angle and the flat plane in favor of a more flexible, essentially more human kind of design in which both the diagonal and the free, biomorphic curve may find their place. Euclid was right, to be sure, but the changing pattern of life and the actual physical movements of man often demand more fluid forms.

Private Houses.

Since the private house is often relatively inexpensive, it frequently serves as a kind of experimental laboratory, not only for new products and building techniques, but also for new design trends. In the United States, for example, many of the most advanced new buildings are smallish private houses. The prevalence of these new tendencies in architecture becomes apparent when one glances at the results, as published in the architectural magazines, of the year's many competitions for the design of small houses.

The best of this new work is peculiarly American and regional in the most valid sense of the word. Of particular pertinence in this respect is the work of a new group of architects, John Yeon, P. Belluschi and A. E. Doyle and Associates. In and near Portland, Ore., they have built a number of houses, all with excellent plans, intimate relationship between interior and exterior, low-pitched spreading roofs, and, above all, sensitive understanding of their material — wood.

In Northeast Harbor, Maine, George Howe has designed a superb vacation house, all in wood and stone with double-pitched roofs and sliding glass doors used instead of windows. The house was built by local labor. In Highland Park, Ill., Schweiker & amp; Lamb have built an interesting house of brick and wood. Only the simple rectangular wall areas are of brick; the triangles formed by the shed roofs are filled in with wood, the more easily workable material.

Massachusetts has been slow to take up modern architecture, but can now show, especially in the region around Cambridge, some of the best work in the country. Particularly successful is the cinder-block and fieldstone Koch house, designed by Stone & Koch for a difficult corner lot in Cambridge. Another house which is contemporary in the best sense of the word is the house of wood and fieldstone which Marcel Breuer has designed for himself in Lincoln — a well-planned house which shows exceptionally fine feeling in its composition of volumes, textures and proportions.

California remains the most fertile ground for modern houses. Richard Neutra, Raphael Soriano, and, to some extent, Gregory Ain continue to turn out the well-rationalized, impeccable, but rather cold work for which they are famous. The work of Harwell Hamilton Harris is much warmer and more personal; much less European in inspiration, his fine wooden houses have a lyric quality which makes them comparable with the work of Frank Lloyd Wright.

New and experimental types of wood construction are featured in many otherwise undistinguished small houses. The John B. Pierce Foundation has built an experimental house at Lebanon, N. J., with widely spaced supporting posts braced by horizontal ribbon members. These horizontal strips form windowsills and heads into which light-weight prefabricated plywood panels and horizontally sliding sash are set to complete the exterior walls. Much publicity was accorded the very inexpensive plywood houses designed by the Federal Housing Administration for Fort Wayne. On a concrete floor slab are set up prefabricated panels of plywood, framed and insulated. No separate house-frame is required, and WPA workers can erect a house in less than two hours.

A new building by Frank Lloyd Wright is always a major architectural event. This year it was his Suntop Homes in Ardmore, near Philadelphia. The squarish building is subdivided by cross-shaped brick party walls into four separate houses, each three stories high. The houses are ingeniously constructed with various levels to give direct ventilation and light even to the rooms at the inner angle of each 90 degree wedge. Great cantilevered terraces are sheltered by half-high walls built up of horizontal cypress boarding. These houses have been so successful that others like them are being built.

Another new Frank Lloyd Wright house of special interest is the Johnson House near Racine, Wis. In this cross-shaped building Wright pushes his principle of plan articulation almost to the point of incoherence.

Apartments and Housing Projects.

The most spectacular example of the influence of advanced architectural theory on ordinary speculative building is to be found in New York's new Castle Village, a group of apartment houses designed by George F. Pelham, Jr., for a magnificent site just north of the George Washington Bridge. The five cross-shaped free-standing towers are designed to provide 90 per cent of the apartments with a view of the Hudson and the Palisades. The vertical concentration of dwellings and the avoidance of unnecessary streets means that 80 per cent of the site is left free for lawns and playgrounds. From a distance the buildings look bold and handsome, but at closer view the clarity of outline is lost in the inconsistency of the shaved-off corners, the mullioned windows, and the Georgian surface-treatment of the lower floors.

In its larger field the United States Housing Authority is beginning to turn out fine work. Their low-cost government-aided projects are in each case designed by architects commissioned by the local housing authorities; but Washington, in order to safeguard its investment, has set up certain minimum standards and offers technical advice of all kinds.

Queensbridge is the first USHA housing project to be completed in New York. Instead of using the usual T, H or U plans, the architects have designed Y-shaped buildings which open widely to sun and view and give a greater feeling of spaciousness than the more conventional lay-outs. Construction is now started on Branch Village, a USHA Negro-housing project at Camden, N. J. With its parallel rows of cleanly rectangular buildings and its handsome community center, it will certainly be one of the most attractive and modern projects in this country.

The generally recognized technical excellence of the USHA projects is too rarely matched by comparable excellence of architectural design. The first indication that the USHA may be planning the educational program which the architects themselves need almost as much as the public was the exhibition of 'Houses and Housing' which the USHA assembled this year in collaboration with the Museum of Modern Art in New York. This exhibition stressed architectural design rather than economic and social aspects of housing, and showed examples of well-designed projects both here and abroad. Shown in New York in the summer of 1939 the exhibition is now on tour, and will be on view in many large cities all over the country.

Schools and Community Centers.

There is a growing realization of the need for community centers to serve the social and cultural needs of our rural population. In farming country not far from Phoenixville, Pa., Oscar Stonorov has built the Charlestown Playhouse for adults as well as for children of pre-school and school age. In spite of the necessity for rigid economy, the architect succeeded in producing a very attractive building in stuccoed fieldstone and vertical redwood siding over a standard wood frame.

Notable exceptions to the prevalent mediocrity in the very important field of school-design are two new schools in California, both designed by the architects, Franklin and Kump. One is a pavilion-type elementary school in Fowler with an outdoor auditorium and outdoor corridors connecting the classrooms. Each classroom is separated only by a movable glass wall from an outdoor hedge-sheltered terrace for fair-weather use. The other is the Sierra Union High School, designed with emphasis on structural flexibility for earthquake protection and on sun control, achieved by two-foot roof overhangs with built-in drop shades.

Commercial Buildings.

Nowhere is modern design more generally accepted than in shops and restaurants. Designers of new small shops on Fifth Avenue in New York, for instance, have been quick to make use of such features as continuous bands of show-window, uninterrupted by structural members, 'invisible glass' show cases, and the spectacular new frameless doors of tempered plate glass. In new restaurants show-windows tend to be subordinated while entrances are emphasized by color, light, and contrasting materials. A modern vernacular style, direct and unpretentious, is beginning to appear not only in our industrial structures, but in milk-bars, shops, cafeterias, etc., all over the country.

The skyscraper, that peculiarly American contribution to architecture, seems definitely on the way out, and one doubts whether its loss will be regretted. Rockefeller Center in New York has been the only important skyscraper project since the depression. The latest addition to Rockefeller Center is the Holland Building by Reinhard & Hofmeister, Harrison & Fouilhoux. Externally this building resembles the others of the group, but internally it is quite different. The owners of Rockefeller Center were wise not to insist on identical treatment for all interiors; instead, there is marked progress in design from the gloomy splendor of the RCA Building to the gayer, more truly modern lobbies and elevators of the newest buildings.

Theaters and Museums.

Interest in modern theater design was stimulated by the National Theater Competition for a 'festival theater and fine arts building' at the College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Va. First prize went to Eero Saarinen, Ralph Rapson and Frederic James, all of Cranbrook Academy in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.

In Boston is the tiny but very distinguished Telepix Newsreel Theater, designed by Marc Peter, Jr., and Hugh Stubbins. By intelligent use of color, and by accentuation of planes, the architects succeeded in enlarging the apparent volume. The seating arrangement in the auditorium is mechanically ingenious and also superbly comfortable.

The most important competition of recent years was held in the spring of 1939 for the design of a new building for the Smithsonian Gallery of Art in Washington, D. C. A thoroughly modern building was required which could yet take its place with the classicistic marble giants on the Mall. A distinguished jury awarded first prize to the dignified, clearly composed project submitted by Eliel and Eero Saarinen; second prize went to Percival Goodman of New York. An important precedent was set for the allotment of all public work on the democratic basis of open competition.

The latest theories of museum design became concrete with the completion this year of the new building for the Museum of Modern Art in New York, Philip L. Goodwin and Edward D. Stone were the architects. Since the floors are supported by an internal steel skeleton, walls are free for extensive use of different types of glass and movable partitions can be used to provide utmost flexibility in gallery space-subdivision. With its imposing glass and marble facades, the free and graceful curve of its entrance canopy, and the final accent of its hole-pierced penthouse roof-overhang, this building is considered by many critics as the handsomest modern building in New York.

Industrial Plants.

The trend in factory design is toward concentration of processing activities in vast undifferentiated sheds planned for a maximum of flexibility. Internal supports are avoided, and unvaried over-all lighting is usually obtained by a regular system of skylights. Albert Kahn of Detroit remains the most productive as well as the most successful factory designer; his new Dodge Half-Ton Truck Plant in Detroit is particularly fine.

Some of the most impressive semi-industrial work of our times has been turned out by the TVA during the past six years. These power-houses and related structures are built simply and solidly in reinforced concrete, with excellent detail and exciting use of color. They stand in strange contrast to the groups of fussy little houses which TVA has built for its employees.

Exhibitions.

There has been a number of interesting architectural exhibitions during the year. Henry-Russell Hitchcock, Jr., assembled a comprehensive show of Rhode Island architecture, from colonial times up to the present, for the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence; and the work of Mies van der Rohe (famous German architect now teaching at Armour Institute) was presented in an exhibition at the Chicago Art Institute and elsewhere. The exhibition of 'Houses and Housing' assembled by the Museum of Modern Art and the USHA has already been mentioned. Anyone who seriously made the rounds of domestic and foreign fair pavilions at either San Francisco or New York could learn much about architecture, housing and city-planning, past and present. For most of the non-industrial pavilions boasted exhibitions of enlarged photographs and scale-models, sometimes even accompanied by films.

England.

Since September, 1939, there has been little non-military building in Europe. The possible effect of military design on the architecture of peace was the subject of a series of articles edited by Douglas Haskell which appeared in the Architectural Record early in the year. The conclusion drawn at that date was that military design had not yet resulted in any civilly useful new materials or construction methods, equipments or services, plans or building types. The excessive factor of safety demanded of military structures is in itself contrary to the spirit of good, really modern construction.

The desire for air-raid protection does, of course, lead to decentralization, long a desideratum of civil planning; but for best air-raid protection the new centers should be attenuated and dispersed, not integrated in new nuclei as in the best modern town-planning practice. Satisfactory, however, from the military as well as from the civil viewpoint, are site plans of low density, with widely spaced and open-ended rows of parallel buildings.

In England the war interrupted an interesting period of transition in architecture. First, modern architecture showed signs of becoming something more fundamental and widespread than the snob style which it had so far been. Although speculative one-family houses remained shoddily pretentious, the new apartment houses, particularly in London, were without stylistic tags, straightforward and decent, though undistinguished. Second, in the work of the recognized architectural leaders there were evident, and to an even greater degree, the same tendencies which characterize the most advanced American architecture: new interest in materials and their appropriate use and a new, freer, and more dynamic planning technique. The flat stucco surfaces formerly so characteristic of English modern work are now abandoned for glazed tile, natural stone, and brick — materials rich in texture and unaffected by the grimy air of the city. Even wood, expensive as it is in England, has become a favorite material for country use.

Two of the most important new buildings in London were designed by Tecton: a new apartment house in Highpoint, and the Finsbury Health Center, gleaming dramatically in one of the worst slum sections of the city. For this same section Tecton has designed two freshly conceived housing projects, but the war may interfere with their execution.

The distinguished block of inter-locking duplex apartments which Wells Coates designed for Palace Gate, London, is a very successful example of the architect's system of 'three-dimensional planning.' The elevator need stop only at every third floor.

The rural college movement for adult education, started in Cambridge by Henry Morris, may well be encouraged by the war. The evacuation of urban populations will make rural centers like these immensely valuable.

Other Countries.

With the inactivity of her most distinguished architect, LeCorbusier, now reported to be devoting all his time to painting, France has lost her pre-eminence in modern architecture. Some of the best work is now being done by Beaudouin & Lods, who continue their experiments with flexible standardized construction of prefabricated steel units. In this field their combined community house and open-air market at Clichy is definitely a technical achievement.

Italy is in the peculiar position of producing many of the worst, as well as some of the best buildings of our time. Few countries can show such a masterpiece as the tuberculosis clinic designed by I. Gardella and L. Martini and built by the province of Alexandria. Within the limits of a rectangular prism the architects have worked with rare imagination, yet without sacrifice of efficiency and economy. Especially marked is their sensitive treatment of materials. Among the many new vacation colonies for Fascist youth organizations is the splendid 'Sandro Mussolini' colony by the sea at Cesenatico.

The Italians are the best exhibition-designers in the world. The freshness, lightness, variety, and utter rightness of the installation designed by a group of architects for last summer's Leonardo exhibition in Milan makes even the best examples of exhibition technique in the New York or San Francisco Fairs seem heavy-handed.

A major architectural event of the year was the Swiss National Exhibition in Zurich. The buildings were disposed on both sides of the Lake of Zurich to take full advantage of the magnificent site. A charming feature was the 'Schifflibach,' a narrow artificial stream with sufficient current to carry small boatloads of visitors. The stream wound slowly through the exhibition-halls themselves. Such imaginative use of water was sadly lacking in the American expositions. The pavilions themselves opened freely to the outside and were almost without exception light, gay and frankly temporary in construction. The architectural masterpiece was an elliptical concrete vault designed by the famous Swiss engineer, Robert Maillart. Almost fifty feet high, this concrete shell was only six centimeters (2.36') thick — a daring construction of amazing elegance.

German architecture is notable today for its pompous, heavily classic public buildings. Even those few architects of first rank who have remained in the country seem unable to produce work of any real quality.

The classicism and heavy monumentality of Russian architecture seems incongruous in a supposedly proletarian society. Yet it is reported that the choice of the classic style was uncontestably the will of the people. Huge Corinthian columns are disposed over factory facades and immense towers for symmetry and civic grandeur are erected.

No countries have developed a better modern vernacular style than the Scandinavian countries. This is especially true of Sweden, where the powerful cooperatives have exerted an admirable influence on contemporary architecture.

Finland boasts the more individual talents of Alvar and Aino Aalto, architects of the Finnish Pavilion in New York. Their Sunila factory-community, the most important wood-pulp panel plant in the world, points out the possibility of a new and more humanly desirable pattern for industrial life. But it is in the Gullichsen House near Pori that the architects' personal idiom finds full expression. Its open flexible plan and its imaginative yet direct use of natural materials, even its very restlessness, make it one of the most characteristic and yet outstanding monuments of contemporary architecture.