"The problems of architecture designed purely according to visual criteria" - this seems to be one of the most important factors when differentiating between well-made architecture and architecture that merely acts as an icon. This is not limited to Bauhaus but seems to be true for architecture in general. In my experience a house intentionally designed will often be kept in better shape, even if there is no big name behind the design or the owner/inhabitant does not know about the buildings history. Keeping the user in mind when designing will often lead the user to appreciate the building afterwards. Materiality is another factor, high-quality materials value the inhabitants.
The Looshaus is not what one would describe as distinctly Loos, it is not an icon like Gehry's highly recognizable monuments. It respects the local building traditions and (at least judging from pictures online) could be easily overlooked between other local buildings. What sets it apart is the anticipation of the visitors movements and needs and the carefully crafted details which are designed to facilitate these needs. A careful selection of materials which aged well and attention to detail by the current owners seem to keep the spirit alive.
When it comes to "architecture for the masses" there might be some take-aways from your experience with landmarks: Don't build icons. Care about the user. Care about the material. Allow for future modifications.
Nonetheless different rules apply for landmark buildings with a specific user in mind, although no one can foresee the future use of the building. An interesting example of a landmark with a turbulent history is Mies' Villa Tugendhat in Brno. Designed as a home for the young Tugendhat family it was turned into an office for a german aircraft engine supplier after being seized by Gestape in WW2. Before it was restored to its original condition, turned into a museum and opened to the public it housed the local children's hospital of Brno and the living room functioned as a gym. There is an interesting documentary about Villa Tugendhat including interviews with the Tugendhat heirs remembering their time living in the landmark. (Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0GwsNAniZA)
Thanks, Noah, for pointing out that the problem of visual-impression-driven architecture is not limited to Bauhaus as a movement or style. So-called postmodern architecture is no less affected by this. I agree that material, craft, attention to detail, and flexibility for the inhabitants’ needs are key to architectural quality.
I've been waiting for this post. As we both know, we have very different views on the value of modern architecture, especially regarding the Bauhaus tradition. I believe that the socialist prefabricated apartment blocks (which I grew up in) are the logical extension of Bauhaus principles—just applied to the masses. Even the ambitions of both stages of this movement align perfectly. Your second-to-last sentence, “Considering how often contemporary architecture falls behind the quality achieved by the classics of modernism, there is still a lot to learn from the masters,” contradicts this. You frame “contemporary architecture” as a decline from what the “masters” have shown us. “Starting from zero” (Gropius) and “locally sourced fresh produce” etc. typify the Bauhaus movement as a prototypically progressive approach that labels everything “old,” “traditional,” as outdated, wrong, and “worn-out,” while attempting to draw a clean, pure future on the drawing table. I believe this mindset reliably leads to disaster—not just in architecture.
Thanks, Holm. That’s a welcome controversy to have. I think we’re debating a couple of claims here. First, I agree with you that „the socialist prefabricated apartment blocks“ you grew up in „are the logical extension of Bauhaus principles.“ I don’t know if I’m entitled to say this (since I wasn't forced to live in one), but I think it’s fair to say that they managed to bring some amenities to the so-called masses after the devastations of WW II, which, of course, is not meant to downplay their disadvantages. The second point is the tabula-rasa-ideology and its allegedly disastrous consequences. I haven’t discussed this aspect in the text, but I would reply that, ironically, Gropius, Mies, etc., did not radically disrupt formerly maintained principles of architecture, e.g., they learned from the ancient theory of proportions. That’s one reason why they mastered the economy of space and light so well. My text would be misunderstood as an unconditional defense of modernity as a ‚starting-from-scratch-ideology‘ since I am working out modern architecture’s ambivalences when it comes to living in modern buildings. Loos, who is (next to Zumthor), the hero of my essay, explicitly followed local craft traditions without abandoning his basic aesthetic principles.
I wasn’t familiar with Loos until now, and I appreciate you pointing him out. The Paul Kuhner House in Austria does indeed have a certain charm, but in my opinion, it has this not because of, but despite Loos’ Bauhaus background.
As for the "ideas" of these so-called masters (Gropius, Mies, Le Corbusier, etc.), I really can’t get behind them. The workers’ housing programs, especially in East Germany, brought exactly what these architects dreamed of: concrete, steel, and glass worker dormitories. Flat roofs. No decoration. White or grey. Narrow corridors. Low ceilings. Tiny bedrooms. Doors and windows without frames. Thin walls. Heating pipes exposed. It’s a kind of architectural nihilism. Sure, there were a few conveniences, but no dignity. Today, much of it is being rightfully demolished.
These Bauhaus ideas didn’t just lead to extremely ugly workers' housing estates. Modern public buildings in city centers have suffered a similarly awful fate. We don’t need to look back to any of these "masters" to see that this was a joyless, inhumane, and arrogant kind of architecture.
I see your point, Holm. In my humble opinion, however, you rather describe Brutalism than Bauhaus. Plus, it feels like a nutpicking fallacy when you cite the worst, not the strongest examples of an architectural type. The restored Meisterhäuser in Dessau can hardly be described as ugly.
I understand the distinction you're drawing between Brutalism and Bauhaus, but I think the overlap in their ideologies and aesthetics is worth considering. While Brutalism may be the more extreme version, both movements shared a rejection of ornamentation and a focus on industrial materials like concrete and steel. So, in that sense, the socialist workers' housing blocks are certainly an extension of Bauhaus ideas—especially when it comes to functionalism and the use of prefabricated materials.
As for the Meisterhäuser, I still can't see them as anything but ugly. To me, they look like white bunkers with irregularly spaced windows (almost as if someone shot at the walls with a cannonball). And those flat roofs—especially in a region with heavy rain and snow in the winter—seem completely impractical. No roof overhang, no protection from the elements. It might appeal to some, but to me, it feels like an example of form over function, which is ironic given the Bauhaus emphasis on practicality. :)
As much as I enjoy our little controversy, my hope of finding common ground wanes from comment to comment. I guess we reached a point where the ancient masters would say, „De gustibus non est disputandum“. :)
You may be right that we won’t find common ground here, but I don't think it's simply a matter of "de gustibus." There’s a deeper puzzle at play regarding modern architecture—particularly Bauhaus, as the most prestigious institution promoting this style. This puzzle is well-illustrated by Scott Alexander’s famous "Tartaria" post (https://www.astralcodexten.com/p/whither-tartaria) and explained even more explicitly by Étienne Fortier-Dubois (https://etiennefd.substack.com/p/the-unsolvable-puzzle-of-modern-architecture): (1) Most people, myself included, don’t like modern architecture; yet (2) we continue building it. Why?
I find Étienne’s seventh hypothesis particularly compelling: With industrialization, ornaments (and art in general) became cheaper to produce, so elites could no longer rely on lavish ornamentation to signal their status. Instead, they turned to more subtle forms of taste. For this to work as a costly status signal, taste needed to be hard to categorize as "good" or "bad." A modernist building that many dislike but a few admire fits this criterion perfectly. Acquiring the "not so obvious" reasons to appreciate Bauhaus beauty demands significant time and resources, making it a marker of elite taste.
A wonderful essay which coincides with many of my own thoughts on architecture and living. I love how extensively you've pursued your interest in early modern architecture, and am really grateful for the information about Loos Haus, of which I was completely unaware! I've been an avid Bauhaus fan most of my life, often designing a haus of my own when I'm down. Loos's aversion to ornamentation notwithstanding, I am also a fan of Otto Wagner (the Postal Bank, the Kirche am Steinhof). He knew how to use ornamentation sparingly, creating a kind of minimalist version of ornamentation, which left room for an inhabitant to be co-creative. Here's a link to an article I wrote about my Bauhaus experiences : https://3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2019/06/my-bauhaus-a-tale-of-two-cities.html
Thanks so much for your comment. I enjoyed reading your Bauhaus article and, of course, agree that architecture’s „effect on us“ makes such a difference and that architecture „is more than looking at a building from the outside.“
"The problems of architecture designed purely according to visual criteria" - this seems to be one of the most important factors when differentiating between well-made architecture and architecture that merely acts as an icon. This is not limited to Bauhaus but seems to be true for architecture in general. In my experience a house intentionally designed will often be kept in better shape, even if there is no big name behind the design or the owner/inhabitant does not know about the buildings history. Keeping the user in mind when designing will often lead the user to appreciate the building afterwards. Materiality is another factor, high-quality materials value the inhabitants.
The Looshaus is not what one would describe as distinctly Loos, it is not an icon like Gehry's highly recognizable monuments. It respects the local building traditions and (at least judging from pictures online) could be easily overlooked between other local buildings. What sets it apart is the anticipation of the visitors movements and needs and the carefully crafted details which are designed to facilitate these needs. A careful selection of materials which aged well and attention to detail by the current owners seem to keep the spirit alive.
When it comes to "architecture for the masses" there might be some take-aways from your experience with landmarks: Don't build icons. Care about the user. Care about the material. Allow for future modifications.
Nonetheless different rules apply for landmark buildings with a specific user in mind, although no one can foresee the future use of the building. An interesting example of a landmark with a turbulent history is Mies' Villa Tugendhat in Brno. Designed as a home for the young Tugendhat family it was turned into an office for a german aircraft engine supplier after being seized by Gestape in WW2. Before it was restored to its original condition, turned into a museum and opened to the public it housed the local children's hospital of Brno and the living room functioned as a gym. There is an interesting documentary about Villa Tugendhat including interviews with the Tugendhat heirs remembering their time living in the landmark. (Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0GwsNAniZA)
Thanks, Noah, for pointing out that the problem of visual-impression-driven architecture is not limited to Bauhaus as a movement or style. So-called postmodern architecture is no less affected by this. I agree that material, craft, attention to detail, and flexibility for the inhabitants’ needs are key to architectural quality.
I've been waiting for this post. As we both know, we have very different views on the value of modern architecture, especially regarding the Bauhaus tradition. I believe that the socialist prefabricated apartment blocks (which I grew up in) are the logical extension of Bauhaus principles—just applied to the masses. Even the ambitions of both stages of this movement align perfectly. Your second-to-last sentence, “Considering how often contemporary architecture falls behind the quality achieved by the classics of modernism, there is still a lot to learn from the masters,” contradicts this. You frame “contemporary architecture” as a decline from what the “masters” have shown us. “Starting from zero” (Gropius) and “locally sourced fresh produce” etc. typify the Bauhaus movement as a prototypically progressive approach that labels everything “old,” “traditional,” as outdated, wrong, and “worn-out,” while attempting to draw a clean, pure future on the drawing table. I believe this mindset reliably leads to disaster—not just in architecture.
Thanks, Holm. That’s a welcome controversy to have. I think we’re debating a couple of claims here. First, I agree with you that „the socialist prefabricated apartment blocks“ you grew up in „are the logical extension of Bauhaus principles.“ I don’t know if I’m entitled to say this (since I wasn't forced to live in one), but I think it’s fair to say that they managed to bring some amenities to the so-called masses after the devastations of WW II, which, of course, is not meant to downplay their disadvantages. The second point is the tabula-rasa-ideology and its allegedly disastrous consequences. I haven’t discussed this aspect in the text, but I would reply that, ironically, Gropius, Mies, etc., did not radically disrupt formerly maintained principles of architecture, e.g., they learned from the ancient theory of proportions. That’s one reason why they mastered the economy of space and light so well. My text would be misunderstood as an unconditional defense of modernity as a ‚starting-from-scratch-ideology‘ since I am working out modern architecture’s ambivalences when it comes to living in modern buildings. Loos, who is (next to Zumthor), the hero of my essay, explicitly followed local craft traditions without abandoning his basic aesthetic principles.
I wasn’t familiar with Loos until now, and I appreciate you pointing him out. The Paul Kuhner House in Austria does indeed have a certain charm, but in my opinion, it has this not because of, but despite Loos’ Bauhaus background.
As for the "ideas" of these so-called masters (Gropius, Mies, Le Corbusier, etc.), I really can’t get behind them. The workers’ housing programs, especially in East Germany, brought exactly what these architects dreamed of: concrete, steel, and glass worker dormitories. Flat roofs. No decoration. White or grey. Narrow corridors. Low ceilings. Tiny bedrooms. Doors and windows without frames. Thin walls. Heating pipes exposed. It’s a kind of architectural nihilism. Sure, there were a few conveniences, but no dignity. Today, much of it is being rightfully demolished.
These Bauhaus ideas didn’t just lead to extremely ugly workers' housing estates. Modern public buildings in city centers have suffered a similarly awful fate. We don’t need to look back to any of these "masters" to see that this was a joyless, inhumane, and arrogant kind of architecture.
Just my two cents...
I see your point, Holm. In my humble opinion, however, you rather describe Brutalism than Bauhaus. Plus, it feels like a nutpicking fallacy when you cite the worst, not the strongest examples of an architectural type. The restored Meisterhäuser in Dessau can hardly be described as ugly.
I understand the distinction you're drawing between Brutalism and Bauhaus, but I think the overlap in their ideologies and aesthetics is worth considering. While Brutalism may be the more extreme version, both movements shared a rejection of ornamentation and a focus on industrial materials like concrete and steel. So, in that sense, the socialist workers' housing blocks are certainly an extension of Bauhaus ideas—especially when it comes to functionalism and the use of prefabricated materials.
As for the Meisterhäuser, I still can't see them as anything but ugly. To me, they look like white bunkers with irregularly spaced windows (almost as if someone shot at the walls with a cannonball). And those flat roofs—especially in a region with heavy rain and snow in the winter—seem completely impractical. No roof overhang, no protection from the elements. It might appeal to some, but to me, it feels like an example of form over function, which is ironic given the Bauhaus emphasis on practicality. :)
As much as I enjoy our little controversy, my hope of finding common ground wanes from comment to comment. I guess we reached a point where the ancient masters would say, „De gustibus non est disputandum“. :)
You may be right that we won’t find common ground here, but I don't think it's simply a matter of "de gustibus." There’s a deeper puzzle at play regarding modern architecture—particularly Bauhaus, as the most prestigious institution promoting this style. This puzzle is well-illustrated by Scott Alexander’s famous "Tartaria" post (https://www.astralcodexten.com/p/whither-tartaria) and explained even more explicitly by Étienne Fortier-Dubois (https://etiennefd.substack.com/p/the-unsolvable-puzzle-of-modern-architecture): (1) Most people, myself included, don’t like modern architecture; yet (2) we continue building it. Why?
I find Étienne’s seventh hypothesis particularly compelling: With industrialization, ornaments (and art in general) became cheaper to produce, so elites could no longer rely on lavish ornamentation to signal their status. Instead, they turned to more subtle forms of taste. For this to work as a costly status signal, taste needed to be hard to categorize as "good" or "bad." A modernist building that many dislike but a few admire fits this criterion perfectly. Acquiring the "not so obvious" reasons to appreciate Bauhaus beauty demands significant time and resources, making it a marker of elite taste.
A wonderful essay which coincides with many of my own thoughts on architecture and living. I love how extensively you've pursued your interest in early modern architecture, and am really grateful for the information about Loos Haus, of which I was completely unaware! I've been an avid Bauhaus fan most of my life, often designing a haus of my own when I'm down. Loos's aversion to ornamentation notwithstanding, I am also a fan of Otto Wagner (the Postal Bank, the Kirche am Steinhof). He knew how to use ornamentation sparingly, creating a kind of minimalist version of ornamentation, which left room for an inhabitant to be co-creative. Here's a link to an article I wrote about my Bauhaus experiences : https://3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2019/06/my-bauhaus-a-tale-of-two-cities.html
Thanks so much for your comment. I enjoyed reading your Bauhaus article and, of course, agree that architecture’s „effect on us“ makes such a difference and that architecture „is more than looking at a building from the outside.“