Save
Save chapter to my Bookmarks
Cite
Cite this chapter
Print this chapter
Share
Share a link to this chapter
Free
Description: Centre Pompidou: Renzo Piano, Richard Rogers, and the Making of a Modern Monument
~In writing this book I have considered as “fellow-workers” (Virginia Woolf’s expression, which I cited in the preface) the many authors and their numerous books dedicated to the Centre Georges Pompidou that came before me. I think it is appropriate to acknowledge them here and explain the extent to which I have relied on them. In so doing I...
PublisherYale University Press
View chapters with similar subject tags
Bibliographical Note
In writing this book I have considered as “fellow-workers” (Virginia Woolf’s expression, which I cited in the preface) the many authors and their numerous books dedicated to the Centre Georges Pompidou that came before me. I think it is appropriate to acknowledge them here and explain the extent to which I have relied on them. In so doing I also hope to supply the reader with some helpful information.
I became familiar with the history of the Centre Georges Pompidou thanks to Nathan Silver’s book The Making of Beaubourg (1994). The book is accurate, informed, and includes a helpful appendix. In addition to Silver’s book, even if they do not always provide original information, I also kept in mind the following: I. Zaknic, Pompidou Center (1983); R. Piano and R. Rogers, Du Plateau Beaubourg au Centre Georges Pompidou (1987); G. Denti, R. Piano, R. Rogers, O. Arup: Il Centre Georges Pompidou (1998); J. L. Cohen and M. Eleb, “Centre Georges Pompidou,” in J. L. Cohen and M. Eleb, Paris: Architecture, 1900–2000 (2000); F. B. Dufrêne, La Creation de Beaubourg (2000); G. Ausiello and F. Polverino, Renzo Piano: Architettura e tecnica (2004); and G. Viatte, Le Centre Pompidou: Les années Beaubourg (2007).
Numerous articles appeared in specialized journals and the general press during the years the Centre Pompidou was being built and immediately after its opening in 1977. Among these, I paid particular attention to issue number 189 of L’Architecture d’aujourd’hui (February 1977), not only for its prestige and the fact that the issue was published immediately after the building’s opening but also because it contains a chronology of the project, descriptions of the building’s functions, writings by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers (“L’Histoire du projet”) and by Peter Rice (“La Structure metallique”), an eloquent interview with J. Prouvé by H. Demoriane, and a feature titled “La Parole est aux architects” that gathers the rancorous, critical, or reticent opinions of P. Cook, P. Smithson, R. Bofill, R. Krier, E. Aillaud, and G. Candilis. This issue of L’Architecture d’aujourd’hui is essential, and I recommend it to readers. Two other issues of that journal, numbers 168 and 170 from 1973, also contain ample references to the project for Beaubourg and to Piano and Rogers. Other journal volumes that I consulted include Domus 525 (August 1973); Architectural Design 5 (May 1975); A+U 66 (1976); Bauwelt 11 (March 1977); Werk-Archithese 9 (September 1977); Domus 575 (October 1977); and Bauen+Wohnen 4 (1977); and if for nothing else than the title used in presenting the building, “The Pompodolium,” Architectural Review 963 (May 1977).
In the book, I looked back on an episode that, along with number 189 of L’Architecture d’aujourd’hui, helps explain the spectrum of reactions that the construction of the Centre Pompidou aroused in France, particularly in the world of architecture. It concerns the stance taken by André Bergerioux, president of the association Geste Architectural, recorded and analyzed in the February 14, 1972, issue of Le Nouvel Observateur, which heralded the mounting reservations about Centre Pompidou expressed in 1977. Jean Prouvé did not fail to notice the controversy triggered by Bergerioux when speaking of his experience as chairman of the jury for the Beaubourg competition, which I have touched on in the book and will return to below. Lastly, among the numerous cinematographic documents dedicated to Beaubourg, still a moving tribute is Le Centre Georges Pompidou (54 minutes), the last film directed by Roberto Rossellini, created three months after the building opened in 1977.
Among the readings that I found most helpful in interpreting the significance of the Centre Pompidou are J. Baudrillard, “The Beaubourg Effect: Implosion and Difference,” in Simulacra and Simulation (1994); also the comment on this source in Rethinking Architecture, edited by N. Leach (1997); and L. Pinto, “Déconstruire Beaubourg: Art, politique et architecture,” in Genèses 6 (December 1991). M. Fumaroli’s L’État culturel: Essai sur une religion moderne (1991), beyond its succinct observations relevant to the Centre Pompidou, provides a general framework of cultural politics in twentieth-century France that I found particularly well defined. Equally stimulating is Fumaroli’s Paris–New York et retour (2009), which addresses the issue of cultural rivalries between the two cities, and of which the Centre Pompidou was one of the consequences. In writing about the Centre Pompidou as a museum, it was natural for me to consult two books by J. Clair along with those of Fumaroli: Considérations sur l’état des beaux-arts (1983) and Malaise dans le musées (2007).
In considering the construction of the Centre Pompidou within the context of Paris’s urban planning, I turned to A. Fermigier’s La Bataille de Paris: Des Halles à la Pyramide (1991). This book gathers what was written by Fermigier (the protagonist of the controversy with Bergerioux) about Paris’s urban transformations, first in Le Nouvel Observateur and then in Le Monde. This book thus allowed me to understand the positions of the most important voices of French public opinion about events closely tied to those leading to the construction of the Centre Pompidou. Even though it is not directly related to the Centre Pompidou, I also used F. Fromonot, La Campagne des Halles (2005), because it sheds light on consequences that derived from the destruction of Les Halles. To this end, concerned with the history of Les Halles, I relied on B. Lemoine, Les Halles de Paris (1980), which includes comprehensive documentation and the facsimile reproduction of V. Baltard and F. Callet’s Monographie des Halles Centrales (1863). As for the urban interventions made in Paris by Georges Haussmann under Napoleon III, including the construction of Les Halles, the literature is vast. A good bibliographic account can be found in the catalogue by J. Des Cars and P. Pinon, Paris–Haussmann, le pari d’Haussmann (1991), published on the occasion of a beautiful exhibition of the same name held that year at the Pavillion de l’Arsenale in Paris.
As the reader may have gathered, all that I have written about Paris stems from a way of observing, knowing, and loving the city that I learned from the writings of Walter Benjamin. Though perhaps an exaggeration, every page of this book, either directly or indirectly, owes a debt to The Arcades Project (Das Passagenwerk, 1982). Reading the writings of Benjamin in general carries the consequence of reading many other books; among these are three that I was particularly drawn to: L. Aragon, Nightwalker (Le Paysan de Paris, 1926; 1970); A. G. Meyer, Eisenbauten, ihre Geschichte und Æsthetik (1907); S. Giedion, Building in France, Building in Iron, Building in Ferroconcrete (Bauen in Frankreich, Bauen in Eisen, Bauen in Eisenbeton, 1928; 1995). The writings of Meyer and Giedion in particular were fundamental to some of the conclusions I have drawn about the evolution of statics and engineering solutions in light of those adopted by the designers of the Centre Pompidou. In this case I used the collected volume edited by A. Picon, L’Art de l’ingénieur (1997); the studies of T. Peters, Building the Nineteenth Century (1996); that of M. Wells, Engineers: A History of Engineering and Structural Design (2010); portions of K-E. Kurrer, The History of the Theory of Structure (2008); and B. N. Sandaker, A. P. Eggen, and M. R. Cruveller, The Structural Basis of Architecture (1992).
For understanding the 1971 decision to hold a competition for the construction of what was then called Centre Beaubourg, I considered it essential to pay particular attention to the jury charged with carrying out the task. The members of the jury are so well known, however, that it would be superfluous to provide additional sources on them now—with the exception of Jean Prouvé. His life and work have been studied by P. Sulzer, author of Jean Prouvé: Oeuvre complète (4 vols., 1995–2008). A satisfactory account, accompanied by interesting historiographic insights, was given to me in the Centre Pompidou catalogue Jean Prouvé constructeur (1990); Renzo Piano was among those responsible for organizing the exhibition accompanying this publication, and included in the catalogue are an interview with Piano, for whom Prouvé “was more than a friend,” and Peter Rice’s brief essay “L’Ingénieur.” I found elements of notable interest regarding the competition for the Centre Beaubourg, accompanied by a fundamental critique of the work’s conception as realized, in the small but invaluable book edited by A. Lavalou, Jean Prouvé par lui-même (2001). I paused briefly in the book to discuss the Maison du Peuple in Clichy (1937–39), which Prouvé built with M. Beaudin and M. Lods; I suggest it would be wise for curious readers to consider this work carefully. In addition to the books written on Prouvé and on Lods and in the few journals concerned with their work at the time, I relied on B. Simonot’s small publication La Maison du Peuple de Clichy-la-Garenne (2010). In reading what Simonot wrote, I came across a quote taken from a speech made by Prouvé in 1950 at the Société des Ingénieurs-Soudeurs. I was not able to identify its source, but it was important in leading me to interpret the term chienlit as I did at the beginning of the book: Prouvé spoke about the need for architects to employ “modern technology” “sans camouflage, sans mensogne, sans tromperie” (without camouflage, without lies, without deception).
It is difficult to explain a project such as the one developed for Beaubourg without taking into account what happened in London during the 1960s and the cultural climate and atmosphere that young architects like Piano and Rogers and engineers like Peter Rice and his colleagues at Ove Arup & Partners shared. Helping me to outline a framework of the times and the people were the books of J. Osborne, Look Back in Anger (1957); D. Sandbrook, I Never Had It So Good: A History of Britain from Suez to the Beatles (2005), and White Heat: A History of Britain in the Swinging Sixties (2006); D. Flower, Youth Culture in Modern Britain (2008); A. Sinfield, Literature, Politics and Culture in Postwar Britain (1989); and Michelangelo Antonioni’s film Blow-Up (1966), especially eloquent for those who like me are compatriots of Piano. As regards the architectural culture, England of this period had Reyner Banham as its chosen interpreter. N. Whitely, in Reyner Banham: Historian of the Immediate Future (2002), carefully analyzed the life and contributions of this brilliant scholar. Without Banham’s books Theory and Design in the First Machine Age (1960) and The New Brutalism (1966) and his numerous writings in diverse journals, I believe it would have been difficult to orient myself with what was flourishing in the English architectural culture of the 1960s. In his essays Banham treated some of the issues, both general and specific, that I confronted in this book, concentrating on figures and groups such as Cedric Price, James Stirling, and Archigram, and of course the Centre Pompidou. Banham’s writings are collected in A Critic Writes: Essays by Reyner Banham, edited by M. Banham et al. (1966), and in Architettura della seconda età della macchina, edited by M. Biraghi (2004). Although it is best not to miss any of Banham’s writings, I mention here the essays that I found particularly helpful: “Revenge of the Picturesque: English Architectural Polemics 1945–1965,” in Concerning Architecture, edited by J. Summerson (1968); “Peoples’ Palaces,” New Statesman (August 7, 1964); “A Clip-on Architecture,” Architectural Design (November 1965); and “Centre Pompidou,” Architectural Review 161 (May 1977).
In treating Cedric Price, I read S. Matthews, From Agit-prop to Free Space: The Architecture of Cedric Price (2007), which contains ample bibliographic information, and C. Price, Re: CP, edited by H. U. Obrist (2003), in addition to the Architectural Association catalogue Cedric Price (1984). I became acquainted with Joan Littlewood thanks to her book titled Joan’s Book: Joan Littlewood’s Peculiar History as She Tells It (1995) along with that edited by E. MacColl and H. Goorney, Agit-prop to Theatre Workshop: Political Playscripts 1930–1950 (1986). For Archigram, I used the book by S. Sadler, Archigram: Architecture without Architecture (2005), which is accompanied by a bibliography that I imagine will be appreciated by those interested in learning more about this characteristic facet of English culture in the 1960s. Also on this topic, I consulted the Centre Pompidou exhibition catalogue Archigram (1994).
Based on what Banham wrote in Theory and Design in the First Machine Age and what is evident in reading what Piano and Rogers have said and done, I found it necessary to devote some attention to the works and writings of Buckminster Fuller. To learn about the design elements of his multifaceted work, I relied above all else on the four volumes edited by J. Ward, The Artifacts of R. Buckminster Fuller (1985). I became acquainted with the different aspects of his personality by consulting The Buckminster Fuller Reader, edited by J. Meller (1972); B. Fuller with K. Kuromiya, Critical Path (1981); and B. Fuller and K. Kuromiya, Cosmography: A Posthumous Scenario for the Future of Humanity (1991). Also useful were the Whitney Museum of American Art catalogue by K. M. Hays and D. Miller, Buckminster Fuller (2008), with its interesting essays; and for a somewhat different focus, L. Lorance, Becoming Bucky Fuller (2009).
The present book opens by discussing what happened in Paris in May 1968. The literature on this historic moment is vast and diverse. I have chosen to focus on information explaining why and how Georges Pompidou reached the decision to build Beaubourg. As introductions to these themes I used J. Foccart’s Foccart parle: Entretiens avec Philippe Gaillard (1997) and E. Roussel’s Georges Pompidou (2004). In addition, regarding the events of May 1968, I have relied on information from A. Touraine, Le Communisme utopique: Le mouvement de Mai 1968 (1968); H. Hamon and P. Rotman, Génération: Les années de rêve (1987); K. Ross, Mai 68 et ses vies ultérieures (reprint 2010); V. Cespedes, Mai 68: La philosophie est dans la rue (2008); and finally R. Merle’s novel, Derrière le vitre (1970).
I devoted particular attention to Robert Bordaz, president of the Établissement Public created for the construction of Centre Beaubourg, whose personality emerges from his personal history and his books: Le Centre Pompidou: Une nouvelle culture (1977) and Pour donner à voir (1987), with a preface by P. Boulez and the transcription of a conversation with Piano. But see also Entretiens: Robert Bordaz, Renzo Piano (1997) and the article “Centre national d’Art Georges Pompidou” in Construction 9 (1974). It is worth noting that one of the sources I used in writing about the Sydney Opera House and Peter Rice’s contribution to the design of the Centre Pompidou, even if it is not among the most important, was R. Bordaz, “L’Opéra de Sydney,” in La Nouvelle Revue des deux mondes (May 1972). An oral interview with R. Bordaz of particular interest is preserved by the Association Georges Pompidou in Paris. The interview is one of 179 collected by the association, issued by leading figures in French political, cultural, entrepreneurial, and financial life relating to the work of Georges Pompidou. In consulting this archive I obtained useful information relating to the events of May 1968 and leading to the construction of Centre Pompidou.
For Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers, a bibliography could become repetitive. Since the late 1970s many publications have been dedicated to their work, of which few stand out for their acumen and many offer a more or less complete catalogue of works as their principal merit. P. Buchanan has published Renzo Piano Building Workshop, now comprising five volumes (1999–2008). Among the books written by Piano, I paid particular attention to Giornale di bordo (in collaboration with R. Berignolo) (1977 and 2005), where he speaks at length about the construction of Centre Pompidou. Piano’s La responsabilità dell’architetto: Conversazione con Renzo Cassigoli (2000) offers numerous insights into his work and helped me comprehend his intellectual journey in the years in which he published Antico è bello: Il recupero della città (with M. Arduino and M. Fazio, 1970) and Dialoghi di cantiere (1986). In discussing Piano’s earliest projects and his relationship with English culture, I concentrated on Zygmunt Stanislaw Makowski after having read what he wrote in “Les Structures en plastiques de Renzo Piano” in Plastique batiment (February 1969). From here I recovered the initial encounters that this Polish-born engineer had with the Genoese architect Piano. Makowski’s book Steel Space Structures (1965) has been translated into many languages and is still a reference work today, as it was for the designers of the Centre Pompidou. To understand the reasons behind the reciprocal interest that united Piano and Makowski, I found particularly helpful Makowski’s essay “History of Development of Various Types of Braced Barrel Vaults and Review of Recent Achievements All Over the World,” in a volume edited by Makowski, Analysis, Design and Construction of Braced Barrel Vaults (1985 and 2006). Piano’s relationship with Makowski should be understood when considering the one Piano formed later with Robert Le Recolais, a figure key to his training and his career, as explained by L. Ciccarelli in a doctoral thesis for the University of Rome, “Piano prima di Piano: Gli anni della formazione, 1958–1971” (2015).
K. Powell is the author of three monographs dedicated to Richard Rogers that Phaidon has published since 1999, as well as a book that deals with one of the architect’s most emblematic works, the headquarters of Lloyd’s of London, Lloyd’s Building: Richard Rogers Partnership (1994). I have found useful information on the life of Rogers and his work from B. Appleyard’s Richard Rogers: A Biography (1986) and Richard Rogers: Opere e progetti, edited by R. Burdett (1995). As for Rogers’s theoretical positions, I have made use of his own books Architecture: A Modern View (1990) and, with M. Fischer, A New London (1992).
Ove Arup & Partners and Peter Rice in particular have played roles as important as that of Piano and Rogers for the construction of the Centre Pompidou. Reading Rice’s book An Engineer Imagines (1994) was particularly stimulating and helped me understand how Beaubourg was designed and built. In this inquiry, I relied also on the following writings of Rice, in addition to others that he wrote with colleagues from Ove Arup & Partners: “Centre Beaubourg: Introduction,” The Arup Journal (June 2, 1973); “Main Structural Framework of the Beaubourg Centre, Paris,” Acier-Stahl-Steel (September 1975); and “Fire Protection and Maintenance of the Centre Pompidou,” RIBA Journal (November 1977). To learn more about the figure of Rice, I turned to the brief article by M. Pawley, “The Secret Life of the Engineers,” in Blueprint (March 1989); the article by A. Rocca, “Peter Rice poeta del Brutalismo,” in Lotus 78 (1993); what N. Okabe wrote ad vocem in Picon’s L’Art de l’ingénieur, already mentioned; and the book (which is not always reliable) by M. Cagnoni, Peter Rice e l’innovazione tecnica (1996). As for the contribution of Ove Arup & Partners to the project design for the Centre Pompidou, I have especially considered P. B. Ahm, F. G. Clarke, E. L. Grut, and P. Rice, “Design and Construction of the Centre National d’Art et de Culture Georges Pompidou,” Proceedings, Institution of Civil Engineers 66 (November 1979) and 68 (August 1980). The biography of Ove Arup that I have used, though I find the tone to be overly condescending, is that of P. Jones, Ove Arup: Masterbuilder of the Twentieth Century (2006), which contains a substantial bibliography. A significant part of Jones’s book is dedicated to the events related to the construction of the Sydney Opera House (a fact that is all the more eloquent given the number of pages devoted to the Centre Pompidou compared to those devoted to the work of Utzon).
Ove Arup & Partners’ involvement in the realization of the Sydney Opera house seemed worthy of consideration not only as it relates to the training of the engineers who participated in the construction of the Centre Pompidou but also for the intellectual mindset with which the firm confronted this project and worked with the architects. To understand this formation I wanted to further determine the ties between Buckminster Fuller and Ove Arup, although I did not succeed. To this end, among the many essays and articles devoted to the Opera House that of F. Candela, “El escándalo de la Opera de Sydney,” Arquitectura 108 (December 1967–January 1968) struck me as one of the most convincing. In regard to the work done by Jørn Utzon in Australia, I was inspired by his writings “The Sydney Opera House,” Zodiac 14 (1965), and “The Importance of Architects,” in Architecture in an Age of Skepticism, edited by D. Lasdun (1984), and by the book that seemed more comprehensive, F. Fromonot, Jørn Utzon architetto della Sydney Opera House (1998), which contains among other things an extensive bibliography. Among the other publications I relied on are: R. Weston, Utzon: Inspiration, Vision, Architecture (2002); P. Murray, The Saga of the Sydney Opera House (2004); R. Moneo, “La costruzione dell’Opera di Sydney,” in J. Utzon, Idee di architettura: Scritti e conversazioni (2011); and the monumental biography by P. Drew, The Masterpiece: Jørn Utzon: A Secret Life (2001).
For other engineers at Ove Arup & Partners involved in the Beaubourg project, I relied on the article on Frei Otto by L. Grut, T. Happold, and P. Rice in the special issue of Architectural Design devoted to Otto (March 1971); on the writings of T. Happold, “The Design and Construction of Diplomatic Club, Riyadh,” The Structural Engineer 65, no. 1 (1987); “Frei Otto: The Force of Nature,” World Architecture 8 (1990); and M. Dickson, “Frei Otto and Ted Happold, 1967 and Beyond,” in Frei Otto: Complete Works, edited by W. Nerdinger (2005), a comprehensive book complemented by an ample bibliography.
In the second part of the book I talk about the Centre Pompidou as an “involuntary monument.” This expression derives from Alois Riegl and, in particular, from a work that I consider to be seminal: Der moderne Denkmalkultus: Sein Wesen und seine Entstehung (1903). In this long essay, Riegl attempted—successfully—to explain the meaning of the monument, while at the same time founding the modern concept of conservation of works of art. According to Riegl, and as cultural historian Wolfgang Kemp explains, what is true for works of art also applies to monuments. For Riegl, the concept of attention, die Aufmerksamkeit, is crucial in defining the value and significance of a work of art as a monument, as it relates what is considered a work or building to the person who observes it (see Das holländische Gruppenporträt, 1902). And it is the way in which a work or building is observed, the way in which the subject and object are related, that leads to its qualification as a monument, in the various categories defined by Reigl. Among these categories is that of the “involuntary monument,” a work not designed to be a monument, but that is transformed into a monument because of how it is perceived and used. In this sense I found it legitimate in the pages of this book to speak of Beaubourg as an involuntary monument.
Bibliographical Note
Next chapter