Architecture is already finished

On 1 December 2008, Minister Plasterk promised - as a kind of super bonus - twenty-five million euros to make the new building for the burnt down Faculty of Architecture in Delft an architectural icon. How will this requirement soon end up in the criteria of the European tender? Something like 'tenderer is expected to ensure that the design can be immediately credited as an icon in the canon of European architecture'? Brrr... You shouldn't think about it! And then you also have to be able to study, teach and do research in that icon. But yes, you are a homeless faculty and you have to do something.

At the Venice Biennale, the Dutch pavilion hosted a week-long discussion, by a huge number of people, about what a new architecture faculty should be. In Rotterdam architect cafés and at parties after 13 May, there was much speculation about who will design the new building, or especially who should not. Winy Maas, immediately followed by Francine Houben, were almost unanimously on top in the latter case. There was also a broad consensus that a competition would probably result in a disastrous state of affairs. Imagine; roughly 3,000 anonymous entries from all over the world. Poor jury having to choose one of those.

But fortunately, in Rotterdam and Delft, other things were being done than talked about. In the first weeks after the fire, countless (working) lectures and project supervisions were held in meeting rooms and at canteen tables of architectural offices. For a while, it was quite nice all those students in the office. (How would that actually go if the chemistry faculty burned to the ground? Would students then also be lovingly cared for in the offices of Shell and Akzo?) But much more happened. Under the inspiring leadership of Dean Wytze Patijn, who did a fantastic job of crisis management of a homeless faculty, a tent camp was set up in no time on the adjacent football field. It was summer and there was beer. Studying in a tent was more like a Limburg shooting party, than hard slogging in an attic room. Within 10 days, it was decided to set up a temporary (about five years) faculty in the university's old main building. Actually, this was to be sold to a property developer who was going to make housing in it, but that could just be stopped.

Patijn and his team worked hard throughout the summer. The temporary accommodation had to be ready quickly so that the new batch of first-year students would not be scattered across the campus after the summer, completely displaced. It is incredibly impressive that they succeeded. The renovation of the building on Julianalaan is far from complete, but the first-year students have moved in and almost everyone who was in the burnt-down faculty is now in the new building. And that has resulted in a wonderfully cheerful crowd.

It is a magnificent building. Originally designed in 1915 as a chemistry building by architect Van Drecht and constructed at great expense. In 1926, the Delftsche Courant newspaper condemned it as 'pure waste of taxpayers' money... the most expensive red hand-moulded bricks... opulent sculptures... attics as halls... spacious and solemn corridors... awe-inspiring lecture halls'. It is still spacious, large and, above all, high. 30,000 m2 with six-metre-high floors. A tower with a water reservoir, to extinguish fires when chemistry experiments got out of hand. A classic semi-symmetrical layout around a number of inner courtyards. Certainly not a bad layout for a faculty of architecture. The building was never completed; the money ran out and the First World War and crisis intervened. However, they did waterproof the building, and it became a storage place for all sorts of things. Even before the Second World War, two hundred barrels of Yellow Cake (Uranium Oxide, the basic material for fissile fuel and nuclear bombs) purchased in the Belgian Congo were stored in the basement. During the war, the Germans set up a storage area for artillery shells on the ground floor, unaware of the fact that the largest potential bomb was right under their feet. At the same time, there also appear to have been people in hiding in the building. After that, the building housed aircraft construction, technical physics, TNO and, finally, the main building of the university. In

A building with an enormous history that seemed to be waiting for the disaster that unfolded on Berlageweg. It is now being converted into a temporary faculty by a team of architects. A remarkable conglomerate of five architects whose composition you could never have imagined beforehand. First of all, Architectenbureau Braaksma & Roos, which was already working on the conversion into a residential building. Then there is Winy Maas from MVRDV – yes, indeed. Mick Eekhout is creating two glass Octatube truss greenhouses. Kossmann de Jong and Fokkema Architects are mainly concerned with the interior.

Overall, the renovation seems to have been a success. With minimal resources, the building has been tidied up, demolished and cleaned. There are hardly any interior doors in the building and the corridors are wide enough to hold presentations and drinks parties. Interesting breakthroughs and new sightlines have been created. Furniture and strange floor coverings have been dragged inside, unfortunately often very fashionable and designer-like, but that will go away on its own. Above all, it is clear to see how solid and sturdy the original building was. The acoustics and climate control are still disastrous, but otherwise there is a lot to be said for never leaving here. Much closer to the centre of Delft, in a beautiful building with an interesting history that has proven to be extremely flexible in terms of programming. And there are more advantages.

To begin with, there is no longer any need to spend time and money on organising an architect selection process, tendering, construction and yet another relocation. Time and money that education and research need much more urgently. Certainly when we look at the output of the institute in recent years and the shifts in the primary funding stream from the universities to the NWO. Also, 3,000 architects will not have to create a design that will not be used anyway. Furthermore, a deal with the insurance company should be possible: there will be no new building and the profits will be shared. With that money and the extra money from Plasterk, the shortage of professors can finally be filled. And perhaps the plot and car park at Berlageweg 1 will yield something. That will keep them going for at least ten years.

One problem seems to be that the Julianalaan building is too small. Especially if, as the faculty board once envisaged, you want to give all master's students their own workspace. This would be an excellent reason to introduce a rigorous and difficult entrance exam so that the number of students is at least halved. Incidentally, for purely demographic reasons, the number of students will decline in the coming decades anyway. But if necessary, the building can still be extensively renovated and expanded; as mentioned, it has never been completed. If every dean wants to leave their own wing behind, we can accommodate seven more deans before the original layout of the building is full. And that's not even mentioning mezzanines, basements and interior renovations. This way, generations of students can study in a building that is under construction, and these renovations can be integrated into the education process. They'll learn something new.

Finally, there is the sustainability factor: after all, the faculty has very close ties with the Cradle to Cradle duo. (Curiously, it is the chemist (Michael Braungart) and not the architect (William McDonough), but that aside). Despite the fact that the building is, of course, an energy disaster, staying in an existing building is always more sustainable than constructing a completely new one. And there are great opportunities for case studies and experiments to come up with some smart ideas for the energy balance. The heat in the conservatories will probably become unbearable in the summer. Has anyone thought about how we are going to store that energy?

If we do the above, in twenty to thirty years' time we may have a number of generations of architects and urban planners who are much better educated than those who graduated in the past fifteen years. And in another twenty to thirty years, this should have an impact on the spatial quality of this country. Perhaps Bakema's building did not burn down for nothing after all.

Jasper de Haan December 2008 (former student and occasional guest lecturer in Delft)
With many thanks to: “Wonderful adventures in a millionaire's dream” Afke van der Toolen, TUDelta 14-12-2006

This article was previously published on Archined.This article was previously published on Archined.