After visiting the new Dr Chau Chak Wing building at the University of Technology, Sydney (UTS) this week, designed by Frank Gehry, a number of people asked me what I thought of the building. I think they expected a simple answer – you either love it or you hate it. But it’s a lot more complicated than that. And answering this question well goes to the heart of the purpose of architecture, and also the role of a university.
The opening of the first Frank Gehry building in Australia was always going to be a major event for architecture and, perhaps even more so, for the media. Throughout his career, and ever since the Guggenheim in Bilbao in particular, Gehry has been one of the most famous starchitects in the world, even appearing on the Simpsons.
One thing I found very interesting is that, although I was given images and a media release by the university, no architect statement was included in the media kit. What mention there was of Gehry’s architectural vision was boiled down to: “inspired by the idea of a treehouse… a growing learning organism with many branches of thought, some robust and some ephemeral and delicate,” followed by a list of design highlights. Visiting Gehry’s own website does not help – there is no official architect statement available to read, not just about the design, but about why Gehry designed the building as he did. The UTS website has more, but again sticks to the romantic idea of the architecture genius at work, writing that Gehry sketched his idea for the treehouse on a napkin.
This lack of description feeds the antagonism between Gehry and the press – both sides almost seem to expect it and to feed off it. The press frequently ask Gehry provocative questions, such as: “So you start with random sketchy lines?” in this ABC interview and “Some of the worst criticisms of you have been that you are more concerned with how the outside looks than the inside,” by SMH. Gehry responds in turn, by giving reporters the finger for example (see the same SMH story, and it’s not the first time), or saying that “98% of what gets built these days is sh*t” as reported on Dezeen.
On one level, Gehry seems to enjoy this as a game. While I was speaking to architecture critic Philip Drew at the opening, Gehry walked up beside me, and in response to Philip’s question about whether the shape of the curved brick walls was inspired by Alvar Aalto’s vase, responded “it’s a f*cking copy”, before laughing and saying, “I’m a great admirer of Aalto,” then walking away.
It’s all good fun, but the downside to this approach to journalists, and through them, the public, is that Gehry does not explain his buildings and the choices for the architectural decisions he makes. It’s almost as if Gehry is challenging his audience to judge the building for themselves. And the down side of this is that the judgement mostly gets made by aesthetics alone – do you like how it looks?
If this is the question, then my answer is yes and no. I like the undulating brick surface – the brown paper bag – and admire the engineering that went into creating a curved, cantilevered brick wall out of around 320,000 bricks. The contrasting glass panelled facade is beautiful, although the ground plane is uninviting and featureless, as noted by Elizabeth Farrelly here. This will change when the Goods Line – a kind of Sydney version of the High Line – is completed, creating a more welcoming entry to the space on the first floor.
Inside, the mirrored staircase is a little too overwhelming for the space, the large timber blocks that stack around the meeting rooms are beautiful, though perhaps not entirely necessary (they are huge and must have been very heavy to transport). The university’s claim that the lecture theatre promotes collaborative learning is nothing new, and can be seen in every university built in the last 10 years or more.
The truth is that whether Gehry likes it or not, there is only one real reason that a university or client is going to hire his architecture firm – and that is for the media exposure, the hype that the building will get. Unfortunately, a privately-funded university building with starchitect design created to lure high-paying students suits the current government’s vision for Australian university education into the future, regardless of the quality and accessibility of the education provided.
In a globalised, media-saturated world, buildings like Gehry’s will be built, they will be loved, hated, admired and derided, but after the media has turned onto other things, what is the legacy of this building? How does it change our urban landscape? I for one am not wholly dismissive of Gehry’s creation. It is an important and compelling piece of architecture that will be visited and admired for years to come.
When Mr Gehry says it’s a “f#&@ing copy”, he means it is a copy of the ‘Ginger and Fred House’ in Prague which he designed with the considerbale and largely unacknowledged help of his on-the-ground architect, Vlad Milunic. The undulating, treated brick facade with its jokey fenestration is straignt out of the Prague building. Perhaps this is why there is nothing on his website: there is nothing to say about the Sydney design – it is a formulaic exercise.
Good insight Paul! I will have to look that house up.