Design / Theory

The Japanese writer Yasunari Kawabata (1899-1972) was the author of a series of masterful novels that he constructed by means of a fragmentary and episodic technique. In these novels he portrays the tensions of modernizing Japan throughout the second third of the twentieth century. Space, time and architecture have a protagonist role in their construction, to the point that they seem to build a narrative in which what happens cannot be understood without the joint existence of the spaces in which it happens, and vice versa. To explain the agency of this space-time architecture examples taken from his works will be contextualized in the broader framework of Japanese culture of the time. A coda tries to unveil some relations with the ideology and practice of the group of architects known as Metabolists, that flourished between the late 1950s and early 1960s in Japan.

Parece estar muy extendida la idea de que la baja cualificación tecnológica de la España de los años cincuenta, fruto de una desastrosa política autárquica sumada a los estragos de una larga posguerra, lastró la producción de una arquitectura moderna equiparable técnica y estilísticamente a la que se hacía en otros países y, fundamentalmente, en Estados Unidos. Y al decir equiparable técnicamente, deberíamos decir tecnológicamente (y el matiz tiene su importancia), y podríamos añadir que, dada una (supuesta) identidad entre arquitectura moderna y tecnología avanzada (como este Congreso sugiere), esta carencia de técnica sería tanto más dramática en la medida que habría hecho retroceder la arquitectura española no solamente a un estadio (casi) preindustrial si nos atenemos a la propia construcción sino a un imaginario estético trasnochado que situaría al país en un tiempo y un lugar más cercano a la Carmen de Bizet que al Luigi Nono de Der Rote Mantel.
Es obvio que la cuestión no es tan sencilla, y que el aparato técnico de la época supo construir, sin embargo, dispositivos tanto o más avanzados que los que en otros lugares se estaban dando, y ahí está mucho del trabajo de la DGRD o del INC para demostrarlo.
Pero incluso aceptado parte de esta premisa como válida, parece que se nos ha escapado durante mucho tiempo que algunos, incluso muchos de aquellos modelos que se consideran como determinantes o paradigmas a los que tender en la arquitectura residencial de los años cincuenta, en los hoteles que una burguesía poco a poco más ilustrada se construye, es decir, las mitificadas casas californianas de Neutra (incluso Schindler) o de la costa este de Breuer, y salvo contadas excepciones, se diseñan y ejecutan mediante uno de los sistemas de más baja tecnología posible: la estructura, más o menos adaptada y modificada pero en esencia la misma, balloon frame usada en los anteriores ciento cincuenta años.
Y así, cuando Neutra viene en 1956 para realizar el famoso concurso para alojamientos de los militares americanos, es verdad que diseña sus casas junto a sus colaboradores españoles con sencillos muros de ladrillo, simples carpintería de acero y baldosín catalán y terrazo, pero no es menos cierto que esta forma de construir no es sino la análoga al entramado de madera que tanto usaba Neutra (y Schindler y Beuer) en esos soñados Estados Unidos de película.
Lo que esta comunicación propone, entonces, no es sino una revisión de esta relación, tan dada por sentado como no siempre examinada en detalle, entre técnica y modernidad en el contexto español de la década de los cincuenta.

In the summer of 1956 the architect Federico Faci Iribarren, or Yribarren (1914-2003), designed a group of thirteen single houses on a site in Aravaca, in the outskirts of Madrid. It is a remarkable set, that despite having certain reputation owed to some accidental (but nevertheless relevant) circumstances, is almost unknown. I believe, however, that it is important to clarify these special circumstances that surrounded the design as well as to offer a reevaluation of the set, given their remarkable architectural quality and their unique position as examples of modern living in Spain at that time.
Let me briefly advance the circumstances, as they are necessary to calibrate its role in the architectural debate of the moment. Here it is the key fact: in January 1956 Richard Neutra, accompanied by his son Dion, landed in Madrid for a long stay of six weeks. The reason for the visit was to develop, in collaboration with a group of Spanish architects, a major contest for US Air Force housing in the newly stablished bases in Spain after the 1953 agreements. Federico Faci was one of these architects who worked side by side with the master in the design of 1518 dwelling units in four settlements for the bases of Torrejón, Zaragoza, Morón and San Pablo (Seville). The relationship with Neutra was intense, since the project was developed almost entirely in Madrid. And this, in addition to unforgettable memories, produced a revolution in the way some of these collaborators, such as Faci, designed.
They didn’t win the competition, though. The commission was given to others. The best known result are the houses in El Encinar de los Reyes designed by Luis Laorga with José López Zanón for the Torrejón base in Madrid plus another smaller ensemble for the Zaragoza base.
These previous circumstances (the stay of Neutra in Madrid, the houses of El Encinar de los Reyes) led to some confusion about the possibility of the Austro-American master having built in Spain. It was thought that the houses of El Encinar were his design, the rumor went. The confusion then moved to these designs by Federico Faci. Its high quality could have certainly allowed the mistake. But better to give back the work to its author.
This communication will present, on the one hand, a clarification of the circumstances outlined above; on the other, an analysis of the designs and their contextualization in the contemporary debate, establishing both the continuities and the innovations within contemporary domesticity. I have been able to work with the original Aravaca housing project as well as with other contemporary ones by Faci; the document submitted for the Air Force competition by Neutra and his team, the Neutra archives at UCLA and the Air Force Historical Research Agency has been used as well.

The status of an " unbuilt idea " is a dubious one. It presupposes, in the first place, the existence of something as elusive as " architectural ideas ". Moreover, it disconnects architectural thinking from its materialization, either implying that ideas are not embedded in architecture only or that architecture can only be found in built buildings —erasing the ideas in the process. Finally, it takes away from architecture its capacity of awakening, of production versus mere reproduction. Of course, none of these assertions are quite right –though none are totally untrue. This paper will explore three architectural pieces designed by architect Enric Miralles around the mid-1990s in search not of an answer to the abovementioned questions —which will be impossible in the limited amount of space of this article— but of a demonstration, in the sense of a presentation, of the complexity of the task. Three architectural pieces radically different but nevertheless coherent as a group, of a rather uncanny quality —being architecture, are neither buildings nor ideas— will be presented in their exemplar quality: they are exemplar —even paradigmatic— constructions precisely because they are not buildings and remain unbuilt. No conclusions should be expected, even if the endeavor is worth the attempt.

Madrid, September 26th, 1953. James Dunn, U.S. ambassador in Spain and Alberto Martín-Artajo, Spanish Foreign Affairs minister signed the U.S.-Spain Agreements, also known as “Pacto de Madrid.” Following the treaty with the Vatican in August and the previous membership of the FAO and the UNESCO (Spain eventually enter U.N. in 1955), Francoist Spain was slowly building up its legitimacy in the Western community of nations.
True, Spain didn’t enter into the European Recovery Program owed to its international isolation as a fascist state. But, after a hard and long diplomatic offensive, Franco obtained minimum aid from the U.S.
The U.S.-Spain agreements were not only a political achievement of the Franco regime, but had important economic and military consequences for the country (and for the future of the Regime). Spain, that desperately needed economical help owed to the disastrous autarchy policies implemented by the government, found a temporary relief in the American aid. The U.S., in turns, wanted to extend its defense capacities against the USSR (Spain was placed in a decisive strategic region), and was more than willing to pay the small price asked for.
Four main U.S. bases were, accordingly, set in Spain. One for the Navy (Rota), and three for the Air Force (Morón, Torrejón and Zaragoza). Placed in a diagonal that crossed Spain from southwest to northeast, assisted by a myriad of smaller settlements, they created the hugest infrastructure being built in Spain at the time.
An engineering office was stablished in Madrid, the AESB (“Architects Engineers Spanish Bases”) with a team of Spanish architects led by American technicians. Professional and technical exchange, so precious for Spanish architects, followed. Richard Neutra was also involved in a major competition for housing units for the American personnel, working jointly with a team of selected Spanish architects.
The direct impact of the built structures was, of course, limited to the bases themselves. Apart from the military installations, the U.S. did not promote any other architecture program in Spain. There were, of course, close contacts between the American and the Spaniards, but given the backwardness of Spanish mileu its impact was limited.
This paper presents and overview of the process of negotiations, design and construction of the U.S. bases as a way of understanding the scope and relevance of U.S. program in Spain and its impact in Spanish architecture. By showing the specificity of this program in the postwar European Reconstruction context, it will help to understand the different politics of space the U.S. deployed at the time and the involvement of local actors in their definition. And by means of new archival research, it sheds new light into a not sufficiently known episode in Spanish architecture in its process of modernization.

Five (woodblock) prints of Ryōan-ji presents five approaches to the famous dry garden located in the homonymous temple in Kyoto. The aim has been to explore through them different peculiarities of this garden, and by extension, of Japanese dry gardens of Zen inspiration. The fields explored include narrative (Kawabata), music (Cage and Takemitsu), cinema (Ozu, Iimura) and architecture (Isozaki and Mies, in passing). The main intention has not been to give a unitary vison of Ryōan-ji. Instead, like the dazzle at the end of a haiku, I tried to build a mechanism of partial enlightenments, to show, at least partially, its complex essence. A mechanism which, simultaneously, sheds light on the narrative, the music and the architecture presented. The real protagonist of the text is the particular spatiality that this garden brings to life and the temporality that goes along with it; but also the constant correspondences of the play of traces and possible meanings disseminated across the different media.

Resumen Las novelas del autor japonés Yasunari Kawabata (1899-1972) se construyen mediante una escritura fragmentaria que se traduce en una composición mediante viñetas espacio temporales. Este artículo propone que la articulación interna de estas viñetas para constituir el espacio más amplio de la novela es facilitada por la concepción de la categoría de espacio que tiene el escritor, fuertemente influenciada por la concepción del espacio y la arquitectura en la tradición propia que se hace presente en la palabra japonesa para espacio, ma.

A principios de los años sesenta, un arqui- tecto recién titulado se enfrentó al importante reto de dar forma a un nuevo edificio escolar. No se trataba de un encargo cualquiera, puesto que provenía de Jimena Menéndez-Pidal, pero tampoco de cualquier arquitecto, ya que Fernando Higueras era un brillantísimo joven que se convertiría poco después en uno de los más in- novadores de su generación. Este proyecto, que termi- naría siendo la sede definitiva del Colegio Estudio, será su gran carta de presentación y se convertirá en una obra maestra de la que beberán muchos elementos posteriores de su obra. Este artículo busca explicar la historia y valores de su propuesta con cierto detalle, pero también contar la íntima colaboración entre los dos nombres citados y la herencia intelectual y educa- tiva que la ilumina, que es la de la España que hoy, una vez más, debemos reivindicar.

This is the short story of a promise, the promise of (the payment of) a debt and the promise of
a promise: the promise of architecture, maybe. I say: I owe you an explanation. About what? Who, I? What? An explanation?
Explanation comes from Latin explanare,
‘to make level, smooth out’ hence the ‘make clear’ meaning. But in some languages, like Spanish, English ‘explanation’ translates into ‘explicación’ that also comes from Latin, this time from explicare: to unfold. This explanation, then, will try to unfold, to expand or to unfurl, even to reveal, I hope, some hidden or masked meanings of the (present) debt. And at the same time it will try to erase the great contemporary misunderstanding: that which says that debts should be paid, that our future is to be devoted to reciprocate a debt that. A debt that, in
*
CAPITAL letters, we never promised...
This paper will propose, in its first part, a genealogy of the debt that finds its point of departure in Friedrich Nietzsche (his Second essay On the Genealogy of Morality) and goes through Marcel Mauss and Jacques Derrida to Maurizio Lazzarato. Follows a shorter second part that proposes, from the standpoint of the promise (the counterfeit of the debt), a certain opening to what is to come. And this opening, I guess, is the place for architecture.

Este texto busca aproximarse a la obra escultórica de Eduardo Chillida desde un doble presupuesto. De una parte, se afirma que la escultura de Chillida construye lugares, lo que se argumenta explorando el significado de la palabra lugar y confrontándolo al más genérico de la palabra espacio. De otra, se propone que existe una íntima relación entre los conceptos de regla, modelo y paradigma y la propia escultura como construcción singular. La conclusión viene a ser que cada escultura de Chillida, especialmente aquellas en lugares abiertos como el Peine del viento o las que se encuentran en Chillida-Leku (pero no solo), se proponen como un cierto paradigma que, en cada caso, da lugar al lugar.