People In The Know: Bernard Franken’s Craftsmanship

Architects these days tend to refer to themselves as artists, and are losing the centuries-old traditions of the old masters who were versed in all the subtleties of development, including the choice of materials, design and organization of labor.

German architect Bernard Franken has set out to restore the old approach to architecture. Bernard Franken recently visited Moscow at the invitation of Vladislav Kirpichyov’s School Studio EDAS and delivered a lecture at the Central House of Architect. After the lecture he agreed to answer a number of questions for the Vedomosti supplement Building Blocks of Business.

-In Russia, an architect is seen as more of a representative of the artistic profession than an engineer. Your work is closely connected with structural engineering, involving techniques that create the most intricate structures. Where does the frontier between hi-tech engineering and architecture lie?

I am a German architect. Germany’s architectural tradition is in many ways connected with technical aspects. Architecture is studied at polytechnic universities, while, say, the U.S. approach is based rather on the tradition of the French Ecole des Beaux-Arts.

I used to teach architecture in the United States. Students there are interested mostly in the external characteristics of a building, its surface. The Germans, on the contrary, delve into the structure and always start by drawing its interior profile, not the facade. A German architect is at the same time an engineer. I, for one, am a certified engineer holding a government license.

But I also have an artistic education. Thus, I combine both traditions. I was lucky to be given the chance to implement some of my projects and my engineering skills helped me to succeed. Thorough knowledge of all the details is a prerequisite for creating a work of architecture.

That is what makes me different from my colleagues who actively use computer technology to generate architectural forms – Hani Rashid and Greg Lynn from the United States, or Lars Spuybroek from the Netherlands.

-But which of the two approaches – artistic or engineering – prevails in your work?

Of course, the process is influenced by artistic flair, while engineering skills only help implement the idea. I was lucky to get acquainted and work fruitfully with the leading German building engineers Klaus Bollinger and Manfred Grohmann. They quickly adjusted themselves to my style of work. We worked together with other engineering bureaus but used to spend a lot of time explaining what we wanted. Besides, I would prefer our projects not to be very complicated in terms of engineering.

-Bollinger and Grohmann do projects that other bureaus in the same field find inconceivable. During the lecture you said they go beyond the framework of a certain accepted code. What did you mean by that?

Just like our bureau they want to go beyond the traditional understanding of the profession. Building engineers and designers in Europe follow certain unwritten rules; a sort of a professional code which says what can or cannot be done. This, of course, impedes development. Bollinger and Grohmann’s work proves that today there is nothing impossible for building engineers.

-Manfred Grohmann even gives lectures on designing free structures. He seems to challenge architects, offering to design something that structural engineers would not be able to reckon with… So far, the architects have failed to do so…

They listen to other people, although, they are different when they work, say, with Frank O. Gehry, who follows the Ecole des Beaux-Arts tradition. He designs the exteriors, surfaces… He is not interested in structures, for him the artistic component is the key. I think there must be an honest, thoroughly calculated architectural structure.

But at the same time that structure should convey some interesting idea, carry a certain message. It is that idea that we have to invent and implement, jointly with the structural engineers. These days, architecture is seen merely as designing a sort of clothing for buildings.

We, for our part, want to restore the craftsmanship of the architects of old who built magnificent temples. They knew all the particulars of the process, the materials, and even what was going on at the construction site. And, of course, they paid special attention to the details, because it is the details that you see and sense in the long run.

Computer technology helps architects to build and calculate new structures. As a result, architecture itself is changing. But if we have no opportunity to implement them in glass, concrete or wood, they will forever remain nothing but virtual reality images. And most of the projects of the architects I have mentioned remain on paper. Only 15 buildings or so have been built in that style.

-Indeed, some 90% of the work by your generation of architects aged about 40 – Greg Lynn, Francois Rochas, Hani Rashid – have never been implemented. Nonetheless, ‘digital’ architecture is growing increasingly stronger. Is there something that all of you have in common? For instance, the older generation of architects, such as Frank O. Gehry, use computer tools in a completely different way…

Gehry is just a sculptor. Unlike that of Gehry, our generation used ‘analog’ techniques, and later we converted to digital design tools. All that took place in the mid-1990s, a time that saw the first conferences and exhibitions where many of us began our careers. Then we saw our first projects implemented. Today, I would say that digital design is becoming one of the main fields in architecture, the mainstream, if you like.

-When did the computer stop being merely a tool and turn into a generator of architectural forms and structures?

It happened when the industrial age ended and the information age began. Each era found its reflection in architecture. Romanesque, Gothic, baroque, constructivism, international, all of them represent a portrait of their times.

The computer age is named so because of those artificial organisms that shape our lives. It also needs a new architecture and our generation seeks to create it. Time will tell whether it was the beginning of a great new era or we were depicting some interim period.

-What does the computer mean for you?

I would say that together we are a single interactive installation. My computer cannot do anything without me. Without it I would be doing something else. We represent a multi-level entity that creates projects made possible only through our interaction.

-In other words, without computer technology your architecture would be different?

Undoubtedly, and I am talking here of the fundamental principles. The computer is, in fact, an artificial part of my body.

-You use a great variety of metaphors when explaining your projects, such as ‘the northern lights’, or ‘the sound wave’. Such a propensity for poetry is also typical of the Russian soul. What role do those metaphors play?

I have a great interest for abstract principles, abstract structures. If you are lucky you may find a metaphor that will constitute an integral part of the structure. But this is just a superficial perception beneath which there are numerous layers of hidden meaning.

And it is those layers that make the edifice complicated and interesting. You see, if what you are building is a drop of water magnified many times, it is not architecture. It is an attraction, a Disneyland. What makes it a work of architecture is the variety of meanings the author introduces into that shape. They are hidden but are ready to be revealed to the one who truly seeks to discern them.

-In addition to well-known exhibition pavilions and installations you design large constructions, in particular, a ministerial building in Reykjavik. How is your philosophy reflected in your larger structures? Do you apply the same principles, regardless of scale?

I’d say so. The same process of building a structure, digital scenarios, layers of meaning… Of course, such installations as Take Off are mono-functional. But metaphors are present in all of my work. The image of the ministry building is based on layers of basalt, the rock so characteristic of Iceland. They determine the general shape of the building.

The decision to divide the edifice into several structures of varying scale resulted from the properties of the surrounding buildings, which we called ‘the energy field’. The ethnic folklore, too, played its role. Not far from the building plot there is a hill inhabited by trolls, or so the legend goes. The Icelanders attach great importance to the matter, they even have a minister in charge of folk epos.

Those ‘energy fields’ intersect dividing the building into four parts between which there are atriums in the shape of canyons. Their interior represents three typical elements of the Icelandic landscape – thermal springs, water and local flora. Each of those elements finds its own reflection in the interior, through heated floors, a small pool or, say, a winter garden.

-What is the role that functionality plays in your projects? It was namely functionalism that played the key role in 20th century architecture. Many of your works can only be called traditionally functional with serious reservations.

I would say that a non-functional building is sheer stupidity, it just must not exist. But if the building only fulfills its function, this is no less stupid. Functionality, this is too simple. Aren’t we able to come up with different ideas that architecture could convey?

-Perhaps, it makes sense to reconsider the definition of the function?

I do not think so. After all, a function is as natural as air. And, of course, it cannot be used as a source of inspiration. Architecture void of function turns into sculpture.

Bernard Franken was born in 1965. In 1996 he graduated from the Darmstadt Technical University, worked as an architect with several design bureaus, taught at the University of Kassel and the Darmstadt Technical University.

From 2000 to 2002 Franken worked together with ABB Architekten and the structural engineering bureau Bollinger+Grohmann on several projects that made him world-famous. In 2002 he established his own design bureau, Franken Architekten.

His awards include the Feidad Award in 2000 and in 2003 (Taiwan), for his Dynaform pavilion and the Take Off installation; the Deutsche Design Club 2003 award for the Take Off installations, and many others.

Franken Architekten, headed by Bernard Franken, was set up in 2002 in Frankfurt-am-Main. The bureau specializes in designing various developments ranging from exhibition pavilions to urban districts. The latest projects include the Stavanger Concert Hall (Norway), a ministerial building in Reykjavik, the Fashion Design Center in Busan (South Korea), and a series of installations and exhibition pavilions for BMW.

Metaphorical Projects

Franken is called a true jeweler of architecture. Structural knots, junctions, and the details of his edifices and installations can be admired for hours. Nothing is left out. He actively uses computer technology in his work, as he believes that without them it would be impossible to create new architectural structures. Most of his work proves that.

Franken became famous for a series of exhibition pavilions for BMW, including Bubble, Dynaform and the Arch of Light, created jointly with ABB Architekten and the Bollinger+Grohmann bureau. The first project was Bubble, presented at the International Motor Show IAA in Frankfurt-am-Main, in 1999.

The authors fulfilled the task of building an innovative work of architecture that would reflect the car maker’s advanced technology, while the structure itself was to represent a natural form. The building has the form of two merging water drops. The unexpectedly dynamic process reflected in a static form gives a feeling of tension and peace, and a sense of intrigue vital for an expo pavilion at a crowded exhibition.

The process of two drops merging into one was digitally simulated and then transformed into a 3D model and later used as a basis for the future development. Computer techniques were also used for calculating the shape of the 305 Plexiglas panels resting on aluminum frames.

When designing the second pavilion, Dynaform, built for BMW in 2001, Franken and ABB Architekten sought to convey a sense of the automobile’s motion in the architecture designed to contain it: the space around the vehicles is accelerated giving the visitor the sensation that they are driving, exploiting the Doppler effect which causes the intensity of sound to vary as cars move toward us and away from us in automobile races, ensuring that the visual field travels along with the cars in a straight line and then moves off behind them.

The Take Off installation at Terminal II of Munich Airport was also built for BMW. Franken Architekten succeeded in accommodating form, design and communication, medium and content in a single level. The strip consists of 360 different yet similar lamella, and two staggered tubes at the sides. The similarity of the lamella meant a mixture of series manufacture and one-off production was necessary.

Each of Bernard Franken’s works carries a certain metaphor. For the Concert Hall in Norway it is the glacier and the sound-wave, a cocoon for the Fashion Design Center in Busan, and the northern lights for the Bay of Reykjavik city area. The combination of German pragmatism and romanticism results in special creations, both fantastic and simple at the same time.