Alexander von Vegesack, fundador del Domaine de Boisbuchet, conversa con su actual director, Mathias Schwartz-Clauss, en la sede de la Norman Foster Foundation en Madrid.

Alexander von Vegesack nunca pensó en dedicarse al diseño, pero fue coleccionista desde pequeño. Fue el fundador del Vitra Design Museum, fabricante con el que trabajó durante gran parte de su trayectoria. Su vida, marcada por una infancia en la Alemania de posguerra, estuvo siempre relacionada con la convivencia y el trabajo en común, por lo que no es raro que todas sus ambiciones cristalizasen en el Domaine de Boisbuchet: un castillo en el sudoeste de Francia que reúne cada año a artistas, diseñadores y arquitectos en talleres multidisciplinares.

Estos talleres, reconocidos internacionalmente no sólo por los asistentes, sino por el alto nivel de sus ponentes, son sólo parte de una experiencia que incluye la estrecha convivencia y la íntima relación con la naturaleza. Mathias Schwartz-Clauss es el director de estos talleres desde 2013, y nos ayuda en estas líneas a trazar los orígenes de este ambicioso proyecto.

Mathias Schwartz-Clauss: Me gustaría empezar la conversación hablando del futuro en lugar del pasado. ¿Estás preocupado por tu legado? ¿Con lo que pueda pasar con Boisbuchet en 10 o 20 años? ¿Estás satisfecho con lo que hemos conseguido hasta el momento?

Alexander von Vegesack: Ni en el pasado ni en el futuro, prefiero pensar en el presente. Y lo que puedo hacer ahora para que Boisbuchet siga en el futuro. Pero lo que ocurrirá entonces ya está en manos de gente más joven, como tú mismo. Cambiará mucho y lo único que es constante en la vida es el cambio.

MSC: De acuerdo, pero si miras hacia el futuro y al mismo tiempo al pasado, desde tu infancia, ¿cuáles dirías que han sido los acontecimientos más importantes que te llevaron a este proyecto? Porque para mí, eso sería como un catálogo de tu trabajo.

AVV: Siempre he sido muy curioso. Y muy insistente con la gente que no me permitía indagar en las cosas que quería. Aprendí a perseguir mis intereses, y aunque no siempre tuve éxito (principalmente por razones económicas), aprendí de todo lo que hacía, y me expuse a muchas experiencias por las que la gente me juzgaba. Pero, si nos centramos en el periodo del Vitra Design Museum, diría que fue en mi época en Hamburgo donde más aprendí. Hacíamos teatro y muchos experimentos sociales que me ayudaron posteriormente en mis primeras exposiciones en Vitra. Diría por tanto que esa curiosidad constante es la que ha sido el hilo conductor de mi vida, y que todas las experiencias que derivan de ella han sido la base de lo que hoy hacemos.

«La curiosidad constante ha sido el hilo conductor de mi vida, y de ella deriva la base de lo que hoy hacemos»

MSC: Es interesante que menciones los experimentos sociales, me parece que la forma en la que vivías y trabajabas en la fábrica en Hamburgo se ha convertido en un aspecto importante de cómo estamos haciendo las cosas en Boisbuchet que, poco a poco se está convirtiendo en una comunidad.

AVV: Para mí, está muy relacionado con la comunidad que se forma en una pequeña familia o en un internado. Dieciséis personas en la misma habitación haciéndolo todo juntos creaban un sistema con el que me siento vinculado hasta hoy. Desde entonces todos los proyectos que han venido después los hice con amigos, viviendo juntos, trabajando juntos, asumiendo riesgos juntos…

MSC: En un momento de tu infancia también comienza el interés por los objetos. Entonces no eran cosas de diseño, la palabra diseño no existía en tu universo, pero ¿cómo describirías el desarrollo de esa admiración por los objetos hasta hoy?

AVV: Nací cuando a la guerra le quedaban dos meses, y vivíamos en Düsseldorf, rodeados de casas en ruinas. Como a todos los niños, nos gustaba colarnos en las ruinas a ver qué encontrábamos, como si fuésemos buscadores de oro. Una vez encontramos un mosaico en lo que había sido una iglesia, yo no sabía lo que eran los suelos de mosaico, pero me fascinaban esas pequeñas piezas. Formaba parte de esa curiosidad que me acompañó toda la vida.

MSC: Düsseldorf es un ejemplo de tu trabajo en general que es, a fin de cuentas, contar una historia a través de un objeto, contextualizándolo para crear una historia mayor. A veces inventas partes del relato para crear una nueva realidad a cada objeto.

AVV: Es verdad, pero es que no he terminado de contarte todo: años después fue a través de los mercados callejeros como seguí mi búsqueda de objetos. Podías encontrar cualquier cosa, y lo más interesante eran las historias que había detrás de cada una de ellas. Podías encontrar el mismo objeto 50 metros más abajo, y el tendero te contaría otra historia totalmente diferente. Continué haciendo esto en Holanda y luego en Francia… y siempre me interesó aprender no sólo del objeto, sino también de las personas que había detrás de ellos, quiénes eran y cómo hacían su negocio. Muchas veces se inventaban historias, pero siempre quedaba parte de realidad en el fondo. Así que creo que yo heredé parte de eso.

El coleccionismo en serio empezó, sin embargo, con las piezas de Thonet cuando necesitábamos muebles para el teatro. Recuerdo que encontré muchísimas cosas, algunas estropeadas, otras rotas… pero usábamos unas para reparar otras. Un día alguien nos contó cómo era la tecnología que se utilizaba, y quedé fascinado. Tanto que viajé a las fábricas de Checoslovaquia para aprender más. Entonces, como extranjero, estaba prohibido entrar en las fábricas, porque existía mucho espionaje industrial, pero finalmente lo conseguí, y obtuve muchos catálogos e información. Para acortar la historia, esto me llevó a hacer varias exposiciones, muchas de ellas en Estados Unidos. En uno de mis viajes allí leí que había fallecido William Wyler, y pensé que se trataba del cineasta Billy Wilder. Yo sabía que Billy Wilder tenía una gran colección de piezas de madera curvada, así que me puse en contacto con la familia para ver si podía comprar alguna de sus piezas.

«Siempre me interesó aprender no sólo de los objetos, sino también de las personas que había detrás de ellos»

MSC: Así que llamaste a la familia.

AVV: Así es, llamé y me cogió un hombre muy extrañado. Le di el pésame, le expliqué quién era y qué quería, pero pronto me interrumpió para decirme que él era Billy Wilder, y que no, no estaba muerto. Me preguntó si tenía papel y boli y me dictó una dirección para que acudiese. Fue así como nos conocimos y acabamos siendo buenos amigos. Una de las primeras cosas que hizo fue presentarme a Ray Eames, que me ayudó mucho en los principios de Boisbuchet porque, entre otras muchas cosas, fue la que me puso en contacto con Rolf Fehlbaum, director de Vitra, con quien trabajé durante muchos años.

MSC: Recuerdo que cuando nos conocimos, estabas trabajando en la creación del Vitra Design Museum, y yo, que aspiraba a ser un becario en el proyecto y que además no tenía ni idea de diseño, me quedé fascinado por la pasión con la que hablabas no sólo del futuro proyecto de Vitra, sino también de Boisbuchet, que entonces no era más que un montón de naves agrícolas. Pero tú, que eras especialista en crear colecciones para museos y organizar exposiciones, ¿en qué momento decidiste cambiar el enfoque hacia los talleres?

AVV: Está muy relacionado con mis orígenes. Siempre había querido continuar con el trabajo en grupo que había empezado en Hamburgo, y quería que esta experiencia, que dio forma a mi vida, pudiese vivirla mucha más gente. Así que aquí, de nuevo, volvemos a unir el pasado y el futuro.

Luis Fernández-Galiano reflexiona sobre el 2020, la pandemia y la trayectoria de C:Architecture and Everything Else en su último número: C18.

2020 permanecerá en nuestra memoria como el año del virus. Con este título proliferan ya las crónicas y balances de una catástrofe sanitaria que ha devastado también el tejido económico y producido dramáticos daños sociales. La emergencia nos ha puesto a prueba, colocando a instituciones, empresas e individuos frente a un desafío inédito, que ha extraído lo mejor de nosotros y a la vez ha puesto al descubierto nuestras carencias. Hoy somos más conscientes de la fragilidad de nuestras comunidades y nuestras vidas, pero también de los estrechos vínculos que nos anudan en una tupida trama de comunicación, solidaridad y afecto. Con todo, estos relatos provisionales están tan próximos a los acontecimientos que ha desencadenado una pandemia todavía no superada que adolecen de una inevitable falta de perspectiva. El mejor testimonio de la gran plaga sufrida por Londres en 1665 —A Journal of the Plague Year— la publicó Daniel Defoe en 1722, y es posible que la narración más indeleble de nuestro año de la peste tarde aún mucho tiempo en aparecer. Mientras tanto, la tarea que la covid-19 ha puesto en nuestras manos es la de cerrar los huecos y cicatrizar las heridas de este año ominoso, atentos más a la regeneración de estructuras sociales, proyectos colectivos y esperanzas personales que al registro intelectual y artístico de un momento de dolor, abnegación e incertidumbre. El Eclesiastés asegura que todo tiene su tiempo, y el nuestro no es tiempo de narrar sino de curar.

Cosentino abordó en 2014 con Arquitectura Viva el reto de «difundir las innovaciones, diseños y proyectos que contribuyen a hacer el mundo más sostenible y bello», y este esfuerzo compartido, bajo el título C: architecture and everything else ha publicado 15 números de los que ambos partícipes nos sentimos legítimamente orgullosos. Como en tantas otras iniciativas culturales, la pandemia apretó el botón de pausa en nuestra comunicación impresa con los lectores, y tanto Arquitectura Viva como C atravesaron una etapa de redacción en remoto y publicación digital. Sin embargo, la voluntad de continuidad ha permitido que ambas revistas ofrezcan la versión en papel de sus números digitales, y ese es precisamente el propósito de este volumen, que reúne los ya distribuidos C16 y C17 con los contenidos del inédito C18, presentando bajo una misma cubierta las publicaciones de este ‘año del virus’, una etapa que no sabremos olvidar, y que difícilmente podemos considerar historia cuando todavía la pandemia desarticula la vida cotidiana de territorios y ciudades. Pero no es todavía tiempo de narrar sino tiempo de curar, y de cerrar las heridas editoriales de una revista comprometida con la salud del planeta, la innovación técnica y la excelencia estética; no otros son los mimbres que tejen este testimonio de un año a cuya amenaza sombría nos hemos enfrentado con tenacidad y humildad.

Architects Carme Pinós (1954) and Izaskun Chinchilla (1975) meet at the offices of the Madrid-based magazine Arquitectura Viva to talk about the role of women in history and in architecture.

Carme Pinós and Izaskun Chinchilla broach issues like architecture, the ecological crisis and the future exhibition on the work of Pinós at the Museo ICO, but in their conversation the gender issue comes up insistently, and that is the part we are recording here.

Izaskun Chinchilla: To start, and if you agree, let’s reflect together on how the gender factor affects architecture. I am asking first because not everyone feels comfortable discussing this issue.

Carme Pinós: Yes, I have things to say, and for several reasons, because the more you delve into history, the more you realize that it is told from a very male point of view.

IC: It’s true: history has been violence and strength, but many of the other things that have happened are not part of the official history, right?

CP: Yes of course. I think we have made great progress and, in this sense, I believe that when humans became sedentary, divinity – previously represented by the mother goddess – went on to become the god of war, and this gave birth to the concept of heritage, of patriarchy. The system was turned around: matriarchy gave way to a system based on the succession of heritage conquered through violence, and this was so despite the fact that, ultimately only the woman knew for certain who her son’s father was. As women were left out of war, of a world sustained by force, our gender was relegated, and the foreseeable result is that the history of humanity is written by men.

When I say that, in spite of this starting point, we have improved a lot, I refer to the fact that now war, violence, and the use of force that have traditionally sustained patriarchy do not occupy the absolute position they had before. Different aspects of women’s emancipation have contributed to this, such as sexual freedom, birth control or the rise of women to prominent social positions. This is a big step, but it is only the first. Other actions must be taken, like making men get more involved so that women can step fully into world management, or simply acknowledging that this world needs women. The world needs women because we are less arrogant, we have developed a greater capacity for listening and empathy, probably because we have spent thousands of years taking care of others, something that men have a hard time doing. In traditional societies, a woman listened without being able to act; she tried to understand; if a son became a murderer, the father disinherited him, rejected him as son, but a woman would still consider that son her flesh and blood.
The world consists of many things, many contaminated things, and that attitude imposed by patriarchy, and which women had to accept, has its positive side. In my architecture, for instance, I always try to make sure there is a dialogue between two or three elements, and not just one imposed discourse. I am sure that this attitude has to do, in part, with my being a woman. I work with men, and at the studio there are more men than women, but fortunately women are occupying stronger positions at my office, and are gaining more strength in the field. In any case, the most important thing is to favor dialogue and avoid impositions.

“In my architecture, I try to make sure there is a dialogue, and not just one imposed discourse“

IC: You have said several things. The first is the vision of official history as masculine. I would put it differently. I think that male history is the official one, the history you find in books, in museums… But throughout this whole ‘official’ time there were changes in food and gastronomy, in people’s way of dressing, sexual habits and hygiene changed, the idea of medicine also changed… and I think that in these aspects of private life women were extremely important. From writing letters to creating a comfortable home, women have played a leading role in the greatest events in the history of humanity, although the official history hasn’t paid attention to them. In my view, there is a reassessment of the roles of gender in architecture, an acknowledgement of those aspects in the heritage of humanity that seem minor details in the discourse of major academies or museums, but which are essential to social progress. Those who went to war were able to go because someone had taken care of them when they were little, had provided them health, an education… In all those tasks women have played a prominent role.

That is why I think that perhaps another perspective of art and of history could make us see that we do have a female heritage.

CP: The relationship between architecture and feminity offers interesting examples. A Victorian house can seem very feminine, in the sense that it is very legible, filled as it is with human traces, footprints: you can immediately figure out where the reading, smoking, and cooking took place. It was the product, all of it, of an ethic of detail that followed a discourse, which could be linked, at the same time, to the female universe. Later on the house became more abstract: with Le Corbusier the dwelling became a ‘machine à habiter,’ but after that it was not even ‘for living,’ but simply a pragmatic way of tackling a program erasing all discourse. I would say the world has gradually given in to abstraction because the market has set more abstract guidelines and less connected to women’s traditional universe, which is more specific and has to do more with caregiving.

IC: Yes, I think the market is perhaps accountable for that shift towards the abstract, but also towards the epic: that situation in which only the great possession, the great feat, the great emblem, the great achievement seem to count, and less attention is paid to the details, to the elements of everyday life. As you were saying, the Victorian house is an example, and leaves traces everywhere of its daily activities. And that is what modernity has eliminated completely. I’d say the market has managed to make the most of that trend, but this has happened in complicity with the academy, culture, and architects in the sense that we still think about Ornament is Crime: we still deny that those everyday aspects are relevant.

CP: Sometimes I ask myself why the architectures I dislike deny their ties with people and things: buildings that, not by coincidence, are photographed without people. That’s why I always say that I look for a contaminated architecture, I want to photograph architecture that is alive, which reflects how people move, how they feel inside it. What’s sad is that these architectures that exclude the human are incredibly successful, also among everyday people, which makes me think that perhaps people are in need of that epic you are talking about.

IC: I have the feeling that precisely that praise of the more epic aspects, that denial of the importance of details and of everyday life, is somehow the origin of that separation between civil society and architecture as a profession. There is a temporary factor – we’re in an economic crisis, a crisis of the production model, an ecological crisis – and maybe the way in which women have been educated, their culture and their way of acting is part of the solution. This is not a call for protection, but a call for an opportunity and a strategy. I always say there is a first and a second feminism that advocate equal rights for women and for men: the right to vote, the right to take on public posts or the right to have a political role in society. And, next, the right to be part of an executive committee or of company management: the possibility of being part of the decision-making groups in society, but trying to make sure that equal rights involve equal roles, that is, making the woman perform like a man. We are in a situation in which there should be a revision of feminism associated to the idea that the environment and nature put us, as human species, in our place: a more vulnerable place where we might not want to be men. Perhaps I have no interest in being president of a political party or of a company if that means I won’t be able to balance my private life and my public life, if that means I’ll have to give up maternity…

“The way in which women have been educated, their culture and their manner of acting, is part of the solution“

CP: But society too, and not just men, maintains the traditional gender roles. Today we know what type of feminism we need to defend, but I don’t want anything given to me, so to speak. I don’t want to be chosen for a post just because I’m a woman. I consider myself a better architect than many other architects. I have a vision of the world that is complemented by other visions of the world. History, culture, genetics, or biology have led us to perceive things in different ways. In this context, women must claim the essential and active role of the female condition. I don’t want to be given half of something: I forgo charity and don’t want to be labelled or pigeonholed. I see life as a whole, and in life there are aspects that respond to a male vision and others that come from a female vision. So when you say you wouldn’t want to be a company director because you would have to give up many things in life, I think no one who steps into that role should be expected to give up certain things. That’s why I say that, in the end, the market is the winner in all this: the only thing that counts is productivity, short-term benefits which demand huge sacrifices… This is what we should fight for: a fuller life with multiple and complementary visions.

IC: Joining messages, I think that the transition of women into the labor market is a collective advantage, not for women, but for society as a whole. It’s a matter of vindicating, reasserting the value, and placing at the service of society a series of tools – which have been acquired and naturalized – for work and for dialogue, as well as a cultural heritage which up to now haven’t been part of the conversations about public life. Do we give immigrants permission just to live in our country or do we let them change the rules? Because maybe the right thing is not only letting them live like we do, but letting them change some of our rules so that society can evolve towards greater cosmpolitanism.

CP: Every time there has been a rise in knowledge, diversity, cross-cultural contamination, it has brought moments of peace and also of prosperity. But cultural exchange has always needed mutual involvement, otherwise the result is isolation, and, when you close yourself to the world and to others, prosperity ends. That’s why I think exclusionary nationalisms only lead to conflict.

How façade expert Friedrich Scharl reduced weight and costs with Dekton on KAP WEST in Munich

The façade of the new office complex at the Hirschgarten in Munich has a modern, urban look. The original plans using concrete or artificial stone, however, would have made it difficult to meet the tight schedule and to keep within budget. Façade expert, Friedrich Scharl, found an alternative which impressed the architects and developers: the ultra-compact surface Dekton by Cosentino.

Mr. Scharl, you did the technical designs for the façade on KAP West. What was wrong with the original plans?

FS: The weight and the costs. The building was designed with a ventilated curtain façade. The parts of the façade with triple glazing and stone-covered pilasters would have been completely preassembled before delivery to the site and put into place – it’s a typical process that requires a lot of planning and efficiency. The original plans envisaged the pilasters to be covered by 30 mm-thick, fibre-reinforced concrete or artificial stone. This would have meant that each part of the façade would have weighed approximately 1.5 tonnes. With so much weight, handling becomes difficult and the risk of damage increases. In addition, you need an elaborate substructure. In our case, this would have put the time frame and budget at risk.

So you started looking for a lighter façade covering?

FS: Correct, we needed a material with a high-quality stone look, but one that was thinner, and therefore lighter – and all things considered, at a lower cost. And finding a reliable supplier is not as easy as it sounds. Then we discovered Dekton. This ultra-compact surface is extremely stable and at 12 mm thick, weighing 32 kg/sqm, comparatively light. Even thinner material would have been available too. However, we needed this thickness to insert an undercut anchor on the back. With this it is possible to secure the plates firmly and invisibly on the façade.

What was most convincing material wise?

FS: As well as our chosen design options we also needed approval for the façade. Dekton is certified in accordance with ETA 14/0413 and CE 1220‐CPR‐1459. During tests it was proven that the material can even withstand a scale 7 earthquake. The fire protection class is A2. What was perfect for our project was: If a plate cracks, an integrated glass fibre net ensures that the broken piece is held in place. Thanks to its ultra-compact structure, the material takes in very little water. This means extra protection against weathering such as cold, heat and thermoshock as well as increased shape stability which allows for very close tolerance gaps of just +/-0.5 mm each. As well as the quality of the material, the quality of the supplier was also important to us. Would they be able to delivery 13,000 sqm “in time and quality”?

What impressed you about Cosentino as a supplier?

FS: We went there, together with the developers, the architects and those building the façades, as well as the people from Cosentino in Germany. The production facilities in Spain particularly impressed me. Dekon is produced there at a size of 3,200 mm x 1,440 mm in a continuous process, which means that the plates of one batch have the same quality, texture and colouring. Then follows the individual cutting and post-production work, which in our case means working the edges, mitre cuts, setting the undercut anchors and the clasps. The pre-assembled parts were then stored and delivered to those building the façade piece by piece – this was extremely reliable and in the correct order, which when working with 400 different elements and approximately 15,000 covering parts is a true piece of logistical mastery.

What effect did using Dekton have on the façade?

FS: Dekton looks aesthetically pleasing and is very good functionally. With the low weight of the façade covering, even the subconstruction could be made more simply and lighter compared to the original plans. It is now self-supporting. Using the façade building app in Germany, the aluminium profiles from Wicona were planned with the glazing and insulation, the sun screens and the electrics. Finally, the prefabricated Dekton plates were hung and secured. Each part of the façade is now about one-third lighter than at the beginning of planning. Instead of 1,500 kg, the weight is just 1,000 kg, which made transport and assembly much easier.

Were you able to keep to schedule and within budget?

FS: We had two teams on site, each with three employees. They worked parallel on different parts of the building and crane-operated, placed and assembled the elements in 20-minute intervals – 2,000 elements for about 12,600 sqm of façade in just seven months. It was just like clockwork. In addition, by using Dekton instead of concrete or artificial stone, we were able to reduce the cost by about 20 percent per square metre. The developer is happy since by doing this we kept to budget and schedule.

Mr Scharl, in which situations would you advise planners to take Dekton by Cosentino into consideration in particular?

FS: Dekton should always be considered since it offers a large range of design possibilities and is lighter than stone or concrete. The ultra-compact material is also more resistant and sustainable than glass or sheet metal. What really impressed me was the ability of the company to produce around 13,000 sqm of material with the same quality, colour and texture in less than a week. Not only the production, but also the technical and logistical coordination, as well as the communication with those building the façade and us as the technicians and the architects, was very good and reliable. This is extremely important on a big project like KAP WEST, where planning security in a short time frame makes all the difference and helped all involved do a super job.