Twentieth Century Town Halls

Architecture of Democracy

John Stewart

• Éditeur: Routledge
• Année: 2019
• ISBN:
  9780429856907
• Édition: 1
• Sujet: Architecture
• Sous-sujet: Architecture General

This is the first book to examine the development of the town hall during the twentieth century and the way in which these civic buildings have responded to the dramatic political, social and architectural changes which took place during the period. Following an overview of the history of the town hall as a building type, it examines the key themes, variations and lessons which emerged during the twentieth century. This is followed by 20 case studies from around the world which include plans, sections and full-colour illustrations. Each of the case studies examines the town hall's procurement, the selection of its architect and the building design, and critically analyses its success and contribution to the type's development. The case studies include: Copenhagen Town Hall, Denmark, Martin NyropStockholm City Hall, Sweden, Ragnar OstbergHilversum Town Hall, the Netherlands, Willem M. DudokWalthamstow Town Hall, Britain, Philip Dalton HepworthOslo Town Hall, Norway, Arnstein Arneberg and Magnus PoulssonCasa del Fascio, Como, Italy, Guiseppe TerragniAarhus Town Hall, Denmark, Arne Jacobsen with Eric MollerSaynatsalo Town Hall, Finland, Alvar AaltoKurashiki City Hall, Japan, Kenzo TangeToronto City Hall, Canada, Viljo RevellBoston City Hall, USA, Kallmann, McKinnell and KnowlesDallas City Hall, USA, IM PeiMississauga City Hall, Canada, Ed Jones and Michael KirklandBorgoricco Town Hall, Italy, Aldo RossiReykjavik City Hall, Iceland, Studio GrandaValdelaguna Town Hall, Spain, Victor Lopez Cotelo and Carlos Puente FernandezThe Hague City Hall, the Netherlands, Richard MeierIragna Town Hall, Switzerland, Raffaele CavadiniMurcia City Hall, Spain, Jose Rafael MoneoLondon City Hall, UK, Norman Foster

The case studies

Copenhagen City Hall

1893–1902

Martin Nyrop (1849–1921)

In contrast to the many Classical town halls, which were still being designed and built at the start of the twentieth century, Copenhagen’s town hall, by Martin Nyrop, represented a new spirit that had been developing throughout Europe in the latter part of the nineteenth century in response to the continent’s increasingly rapid industrialisation.

▸ Figure 34

Copenhagen City Hall from City Hall Square

(Source: John Stewart)

This counter-culture found expression politically, in demands for electoral reform and the emergence of Marxism, socially, in increasing -concern about working conditions and workers’ housing and artistically, in a rejection of mass production and stylistic revivalism, in favour of a return to the perceived virtues of the pre-industrial age. This movement was perhaps seen at both its broadest and deepest in England where social reform, communism and Arts and Crafts design were embodied in the designer William Morris, who, along with the artist, architectural historian and theorist, John Ruskin, were hugely influential internationally. The Pre-Raphaelite painters embraced this new philosophy, rejecting the academic teaching of art and embracing both nature and all things medieval, which they believed to be uncorrupted by the Classicism of the Renaissance. In architecture, young architects such as Philip Webb, Charles Voysey and William Lethaby embraced Ruskin’s ethic of ‘truth to materials’ and produced work inspired both by craft techniques and traditional vernacular architecture (1).

Scandinavia proved particularly fertile ground for the growth of these new ideas and here they received the additional stimulus of growing nationalist sentiment, that was developing throughout the region. While Denmark had a long history of independence, its loss of Norway to Sweden and Schleswig-Holstein to the emerging German state had resulted in a growing fascination with its own history and heritage. It was in this context that National Romanticism as an artistic movement was born and the increasing nationalism throughout Scandinavia at the time, created fertile ground for it to develop more fully than elsewhere in Europe where Classical architecture remained the most popular expression of the various empires’ wealth and power.

In Denmark, National Romantic themes developed in the work of a number of architects in the 1880s and 1890s, rather than appearing to burst onto the scene fully formed (as in the work of Voysey or Guimard for example). Hans Jorgen Holm (1835–1916) who was a professor of architecture at the Royal Academy in Copenhagen from 1883, certainly had a significant influence both through his teaching and through his own work such as his Rysensteen Gymnasium (secondary school) in Copenhagen of 1885–86, as did Martin Nyrop (1849–1921) whose designs for the Nordic Exhibition of 1888 in Copenhagen, did much to promote the new style (2).

By the end of the nineteenth century, Copenhagen was in the full throes of industrial revolution and growing at an alarming rate. Between 1850 and 1900, the city’s population had almost trebled from 129,000 to 360,000 resulting in severe shortages of housing and putting huge pressure on civic resources. The old town hall on Nytorv (which itself was the city’s third town hall – the first two having burned to the ground), by Denmark’s greatest Classical architect C. F. Hansen (1756–1845), also doubled as the city’s courthouse and by the 1890s proved unable to house the city’s growing administration. A new town hall was planned and in 1887, the city architect Ludvig Fenger developed an initial design for the building. The site selected was that of the city’s old hay market, just outside the boundary of the old city wall, where the great Western Gate had led into Lavandelstraede and where the 1888 Nordic Exhibition had previously been held.

As was common in Scandinavia at the time for the procurement of major public buildings, an architectural competition was held to select an architect for the new town hall. The Council, with Fenger’s guidance had already developed a detailed brief for the building which included their wish for a covered courtyard and banqueting hall in addition to the council chamber, rooms for city councillors and magistrates and a new archive for the city’s records. A two-stage competition was announced in the summer of 1888 (stage one selecting a small group of architects, which included Vilhelm Dahlerup and Valdemar Koch, to proceed to detailed design in stage two) and Martin Nyrop’s entry was finally selected, from a highly eclectic range of designs, in 1890. Nyrop’s design “was treated as a bold medievalising mass, unmistakably departing from any vestige of classical representation in its character and associations” (3). His sources ranged from Norse mythology and carvings to Siena’s medieval Palazzo Pubblico which informed the building’s plan and massing, as well as inspiring much of its decoration.

For the Council, Nyrop’s design offered both a confident, modern solution and a building which connected with the historic heritage of their city but it was opposed, almost from its selection, by a number of councillors and a group of local architects who believed that only a Classical building was appropriate for this major public building. One councillor, a prominent architect himself, Ferdinand Meldahl, fought for Nyrop’s design and eventually held sway, with the Council finally agreeing to proceed with its construction in 1892 (4).

▸ Figure 35

Floor plan, Copenhagen City Hall

Key:

1. Council Chamber

2. Reception Room

3. Civic Court

4. External Courtyard

5. Atrium to Offices

(Source: John Stewart)

▸ Figure 36

Section, Copenhagen City Hall

(Source: John Stewart)

Like Siena, Nyrop’s town hall faced the main square of the city and was organised around two courtyards – the first public courtyard was glazed and the second private courtyard, which lit the offices and council chamber, was open to the sky. The most important spaces within the complex were placed on the main axis with a reception hall overlooking the public square and the council chamber occupying the space between the two courtyards at the very heart of the complex. While the main entrance was placed centrally on axis opposite the square, the vast clock tower was offset to the side of the building (similarly to Sienna) but on this occasion set well back from the main elevation and square, where it served another urban purpose. Facing north east directly opposite Lavandelstraede towards the old city hall on Nytorv (on the cross axis of the council chamber), the great tower connected the new town hall and, in particular, its principal civic space, with the historic centre of the city.

From the square, the town hall’s facade has a restrained, if slightly overbearing, symmetry – its rusticated grey Bornholm granite base rising up in the centre to frame the arched entrance doors – the stone surround carved with national flowers and fauna. Above this level brown brick takes over with occasional stone dressings to the windows, providing a little relief. The choice of humble brickwork for the new town hall was controversial at the time. As noted by Laura Kolbe in her article on Scandinavian city halls, “Politically, brick was alien to the tradition of classicism, which was a high and supranational style with strong roots in imperial, aristocratic and state architecture” (5) – Nyrop and his clients were striving for something more radical – a building which was Nordic in style and built to serve the citizens of Copenhagen – not to suppress them.

The great fortress-like facade is relieved by a civic balcony above the central entrance archway, flanked by copper guardian knights, below a golden statue of Bishop Absalon (who founded the settlement which was to become Copenhagen, in the twelfth century) who is sheltered by a spiky copper baldacchino. The importance of the third floor, where the principal civic spaces are located, is treated as a piano nobile – clearly expressed with great gridded windows below brick arches, which culminate at either end with mighty, copper-roofed oriels, which have been read as the bearded heads of Vikings. High above, a decorated brick frieze supports carved timber eaves below the steep tiled roof. This is decorated with gold and copper statues of city watchmen, protecting the city’s golden coat of arms and terminated with a ribbed brick machicolated parapet which, like much of the town hall building, is an effective mix of the Norse and the Tuscan. It is a powerful composition, which draws on the well of historic precedents from the Palazzo Ducale in Venice to Amsterdam’s Stadhuis to convey an appropriate civic pride – “eclecticism of a high order, blending together medieval and modern inspirations over a body possessed of a calm sense of classical repose” (6).

Having lowered citizens’ expectations with the dark, fortress-like exterior, the arched central entrance cuts through the ground floor like a tunnel, before releasing the visitor into the unexpected brightness and vast space of the entrance courtyard. It is an architectural tour de force, which extracts every ounce of drama from the route from the square, thus increasing the impact of the building on the visitor and further enhancing their perception of the city’s wealth and status. Despite the impact of the experience, through the modesty of the exterior materials and treatment of the entrance, it also avoids the often overblown pomposity of Classicism and manages to convey something of the Nordic psyche.

The courtyard itself is flooded with light from its great glass roof, which covers the entire space, creating the impression of a glazed external public space rather than a grand room (Figure 37). Here Stae...