Avant-Garde and Continuity
Giorgio Grassi
Translation by Stephen SartareUi
This discussion will be largely focussed about two basic
issues: 1) that avant-garde architecture itself is of minor
importance. It is always marginal to any decisive
change--despite the fact that its importance bas been
exaggerated to an absurd degree by militant criticism,
and even though it has been taken seriously by many,
both in the past and today; 2) that the avant-garde position
in architecture contradicts the very definition of architec-
ture; that is to say, it is contrary to architecture's most
specific characteristics; factors which cannot be over-
looked in the projection of architecture, not even when
the contradiction between architecture and the city, or
between humanity and the reality of its product, is as
much in evidence as it is today.
And since we are talking about the avant-garde in archi-
tecture, we should also mention in passing something that
is often forgotten. We should remember that we are talk-
ing aboutwork8, about concrete matters-not about ideas,
fantastic images, or polemical issues. The SchrOder house
and the Villa Sa voye are there to be seen; they are not
just manifestos or ideal models-they are "houses," de-
signed to be used; they are connected to everyday life.
And even that which is not yet built, but is sill! only in
the planning stage, must be imagined in tenns of its com-
pletion, for this is really architectw·e's only raison d'etre.
But the first thing we must do is rediscover an acceptable
frame of reference.
In referring to the "architects of the revolution," I point
to the various experiments of the Modern Movement's
canonical vanguard, as well as the greater part of contem-
porary experimentalism, which share in common the sin-
gular aim of searching for "new form."
There is a requirement, as shocking as it is terrifying,
that Michelangelo prescribed for sculpture, which goes
more or less like this: "A beautiful stattw •nust be able to
roll down frcnn the top of a monntain, tuilh01u losing
a•~ything of importance." This is a very powerful image,
worthy of Michelangelo, charged with theoretical impli-
cations, intended to create uproar-and a convincing edict
as well, because it tends to coincide with the law of nature.
To my mind this law establishes above all that in great 391
works (in sculpture but especially in architecture) the
"monument'' comes first. In my opinion, the most general
and comprehensive conception of a work is always aimed
first of all at the t-eaflinnation of the specific nature of the
particular type of represe.ntation, be it sculpture or ar-
chitecture. or primary impottance is t he "monument,''
that is, the law of architecture.
All the rest is really secondary; that is, it has no bearing
as such on t he conception. It becomes irrelevant with
respect to the "work." For this reason all the rest may
easily become the object of the most obstinate and fanat-
ical experimentation, or of the most sophisticated critical
revelation. It may even have a price, as it does. It may
be exhibited in galleries, discussed in seminars, offered
for the wonderment of a public-a public which has how-
ever been shrewdly turned away from the real object of
its perception and judgment.
Taking the whole gamut of forms proposed by the van-
guards of the Modern Movement, I believe that if we try
to imagine the exclusion of this "rest'' (that is, of all that
which crumbles and disintegrates in the fall prescribed by
Michelangelo), there remains indeed little, if anything at
all , of all the various proposals made with regard to formal
transformation and innovation.
Of course there remains the excitement, the desire for
change, the intensity of experimentation, and so on, the
concern for lifestyle, the conllict of polemics, factions, or
''tendencies"; but all of this exists only in the pages of
books.
What I'm trying to say is that, if perchance one wants to
build a house, one should certainly not look for t he ex-
emplar among those strange objects which awaken our
sense of wonder! On the contrary one should be very wary
of them.
If we consider even for a moment the real changes-the
growth and transformation of cities, of their purposes,
and of their fonns, the modification of ~~ ly.~~~r atenal
 1 Student housing at Chieti. Gi 11rgio
Gra.ssi and Antonio Monesti.roli,
1980. Perspective view of arcade and
site plan.

392 etc.-we readily realize that all of this always comes about fore the recognizability) of the forms themselves could be
despite the contributions of the so-called avant-gardes, exhausted.
and not because of them.
Ledoux's anxiety over clear and untainted symbols, Soul-
Here, by way of example, 1 should like to oppose the lee's research oriented toward the establishment of new,
transformations within the Neoclassical city to the designs open scenic spaces in the city-what role do such contri-
of the "architects of the revolution," who are all too often butions play in the history of architectural forms, other
invoked in support of the experimentalism of modem ar- than that of an inconsequential "sidestepping"? Moreover,
chitectures. I should like to go on to oppose the Hamburg what meaning can Boullee's overemphatic "research" have
of Fritz Schumacher, or the Frankfurt or Ernst May, or when compared to the Neoclassical city's public buildings
even the Viennese housing blocks carried out under the and their "meaning"?
socialist administration of the twenties, to the entire
avant-garde of the Modern Movement, to all of European That a public building should have the "exact'' appear-
expressionism, to all the ''isms" and their derivations. ance of a public building is an idiocy that comes to be
accepted as correct when the city no longer seems capable
In other words, the real transformations brought about of giving expression to collective meanings-that is, when
by architecture have always begun with the specillc pract- the process of privatization has begun. This was never
ical and material conditions of the city and the st.r ucture before a problem in itself, but rather primarily a practical
of its el.e ments-and always as a denial of any "leaps of problem of truthfulness and of necessity (I am thinking of
wgic" that may be advanced. And nowhere is it said that the great assembly halls that have always been the same
architecture, for all this, has stayed on the right path! On throughout history).
the contrary.
The finest buildings in the constructed city, those which
I ask myself what relation is there, for example, between overcome this emphasis on theme, call attention to their
the archi tecture par/ante of a Ledoux and the transfor- own "truth," and therefore their recognizability, with the
mations of the city that succeeded it? I ask myself what result that they are always far ahead of any glamorous
relation is there between these "new forms" and the Ne<r designs. I am thinking of Soane, for example, or Schinkel,
classical city-which, apart from ita presumption of polit- for whom architecture is primarily a matter of technique.
ical restoration, erected, in effect, a "new city"; a rev<r
lutionary city made up of collective elements, a city The process common to all artistic avant-gardes is that of
capable of transforming its building fabric all at once? We borrowing slogans, or inventing their own, and then as it
need to bear in mind the instance of the Restoration and were rebuilding their world upon these, according to their
the new uses then made of Church property. I I>Sk myself own representation of it. But although this may he com-
what relation there is between these "new forms" and the patible with the representation characteristic of the figu-
European Neoclassical city's notion of "Civic Architec- rative arts (p.recisely because of the characteristic dis-
ture-." tance that always exists between the representation and
the object represented), it certainly has no meaning in
The avant-garde of architecture seems to be stuck in a architecture. This is especially true in that as far as the
permanent condition of trying to solve faue problem8 (or vanguards of the Modem Movement are concerned, they
in any case of trying to solve problems that have nothing invariably follow in the wake of the figurative arts.
to do with transformation); and of starting from these
"problems" as motives and justillcations for their "new What has happened to the permanent preeminence that
forms," as though in this process the meaning (and there- 1\fichelangelo granted to architecturto~J~. }~fJB\her ~p,?
Didn't this preeminence derive from t he fact of its being the unequivocally "formalistic" nature of t he dominant 393
"construction," t hat is, "composition" par excellence, in superstructure.
that it was subject to t he fixed laws of nature?
This nature is made manifest whenever the superstruc-
Cubism, Suprematism, Neoplasticism, etc., are all forms t ure shows itself to be open ttl, that is, ready to appro-
of investigation born and developed in the realm of the priate and include within its own expressive horizons,
figurative arts, and only as a second t hought carried over those formal experiments in the realm of architecture
into architecture as well. It is actually pathetic ttl see the whose values at-e posited only in formal terms. In this
architects of t hat "heroic" period, and the best among light, is not the search for a "new form" the most para-
them, trying with difficulty to accommodate themselves doxical choice of all, even if it .be the most obstinately
to these "isms"; expetimenting in a perplexed manner pursued?
because of their fascination with the new doctrines, mea-
suring themselves against t hem. only later to realize their A superstructure which tends to the reactionary always
ineffectuality. This is the case of Oud when faced with approves of everything that conforms to its own chru-ac-
"De Stijl." It is the same for llfies. Few are inunune to it: teristic stylistic preferences, that is, to everything that
Loos, Tessenow, Hilberseimer. I emphasize this point be- serves to dissimulate contradictions rather than expose
cause it seems to me that today, amid all the confusion, t hem: such as formal experimentation as an end in itself,
a strong avant-gerde wind is again blowing our way! innocuous heresies, autobiographism, etc. Such a super-
structure seems to have a particular predilection for all
The "isms" of the Modem Movement have certainly pro- that is expressed ambiguously, or in an incomplete or
duced a bulk of material impt-essive for its variety and provisional way~ne need only think of the success of the
novelty. We must recognize that for t he most part con- so-ealled "papet· architecture." For this reason, it is in my
temporary architecture still bases its formal choices on opinion all the more absurd to give credence to or to get
this material. Hardly a reassuring sign! But how else does involved with that area of architectural research which
one explain for example the recent fortunes of a Terragni, more or less openly makes ambiguity its program, or
studied today in the United States as though he were focuses on experimentation as a search for unusual and
Vitru,~us? The illusion, t he myth of the "new" persists. peculiar connections, nuances, abnormalities, and so forth.
And it renews itself in the most negligible, the most idi-
otic, historicist p(Ultickes. Therefore, any choice made in full consciousness of its
opposition to the state of the contemporary city today
Here I do not intend to go into the histotical and ideolog- must first of all be evaluated in light of this specific prob-
ical motives behind t he "formalistic" choices of the modem lem. It must take stock of architecture in itself, as a t-eal
vanguards. But in the face of the new definitive rupture and positive altemative: that is, architecture as an instru-
between architecture and the contemporary city, can any- ment with which to probe contradictio.n.
one still think that the option of denunciation or protest
is a valid one in itself? I believe that for architecture today to enter, in a t·eal
sense, into conflict with the cultural superstructure ac-
Moreover, the situation today is this: the dominant cul- cording to which it is judged, it must be unambiguous, to
tural superstructure is incapable of expressing collective the point of didacticism, and not vague or indistinct. I
meanings. It is therefore incapable of creating architec- believe that research, especially at the present moment,
ture, since architectw·e is always the expression of such must be concentrated on proposing forms that can be
meanings. In this sense, architecture in itself is in a state interpreted in only one sense. And this "sense" must be
of perpetual denunciation, as it were, as a consequence of consistent with the object of representat' Qn. h d
opyng te matern1
 2 Fmmhouse in lhmbardy.
9 Alles Museum, Berlin. K. F.
Scltinirel, 1823-JO. Pe•·spective view
of atrimn inte•·ior.

394
~ State Scltool at K/.ostsc/1£, near
Dresden. Heitmch Tessenow, 1925.
View of central garoe~1.
5 Student housing at Chieti. Giorgio
Grassi and Antonw Monestiroli,
1980. Aerial view of truxkl.
always been to prove its own necessity, as is evident in iN ow the world of possible forms, the domain of the work 397
works which are firmly planted in the ground: that is, it ef architecture, reveals its innumerable ties to the past
places most importan.c e on the total, characteristic stat- through images constructed over time; it is able to explain
icnus of architecture. Technical solutions, even the most itself only through a confrontation with this past; and it
future-oriented, mtlllt always conform to this condition, becomes reality only by means of a concrete, positive
which is one of architectw·e's most basic principles. imitation. Such imitation is to be und~tood not as nos-
talgic re-evocation, but as the inclusion and surpassing, as
To speak of evocation in the particular world of architec- the continuation and unification, of the most general ob-
tural 1-epresentation is to speak of f<mn-8. The notion of jectives-and as the ideal circumstances for a positive
fitness must therefore always include that which intercon- transmittal of the elements of the croft.
nects the fonns themselves in history: that is, the gen-
eralizing tension which characterizes architecture's his- .As it is necessary to reckon with architecture's particular
torical experience (the good sense common to all solutions oeharacteristics, it is in the same way necessary to consider
of a given practical problem: the house, the road, the as well tJte specific conditiOJI$ of the craft, because these
public place, etc.). This is the realm of the typical f<mns latter incarnate, so to speak, the very transmissibility of
of architecture: of those forms which, more than others, architecture. La Bruyere said, ''Writing a book is as much
manifest themselves as definitive solutions. a trade as making a pendulum-dock!" Naturally these
conditions depend directly upon their "product," with the
Certainly, calling attention to the specific conditions of result that they have become fixed in time; but because
architecture does not fuUy explain the notion of fitness- we are able to recognize them from their long application
but it indicates in any case a definite choice of method ·to an object which is always the same, they offer the
with regard to the project. The remainder belongs to the security of fitting means and resolutions, born out of un-
realm of the 111e<l>lings of forms. The constructed city, the ·changing necessities (somewhat like a tool, which repre-
arrangement of the rural landscape, and in general every- sents the form undisputed but established by its use).
thing that tells of man's domination of the natural element
express collective meanings. Architecture is to a great Any sort of work implies learning, familiarity, techni.cal
extent the mirror of such meanings, and it is in this way proficiency, acquired mastery; but it also always implies
that its forms acquire stable meanings. a sympathy and an appreciation for how much has been
studied, learned, prechosen, and an appreciation of the
The notion of fitness is therefore able to include very standards by which one measures oneself so that one may
broad and general questions, questions involving archi- more thoroughly come to know a work's reason for being;
tecture's correspondence to and harmony with collective and finally it implies a full awareness of the limits of that
life and its objectives: it is like the mirroring of collective particular sort of work.
circumstances which, however they may present them-
selves at the moment, are all points on a line of progress But does the fanatical desire of the avant-garde, old and
toward these same objectives. And if it is rather difficult new, to "start from scratch" have anything to do with all
to speak about this, it is nevertheless tn1e that we have of this? To what state would architecture be reduced (es-
at our disposal its most evident manifestation in the form pecially as labor) if it were divertoo from its search Cor·its
of its analytical representation, so to speak: the history of very raison d'etre, its "truth"?
fonns, which is nothing less than the history, through
images, of the search for the e,;denee and truth of these Once again, especially when confronted with the avant-
objectives. And it is this that we should be co.ncerned \vith gar<lc's options, we must not forget the particular bond
in the architectural work. that exists between the work of architecture and the -pub-
Convnqllk><i matendl
398 Lie. Besides, architecture is a "public matter" par excel- mids as forms to vindicate the destiny of SfChitectural
lence.
In fact, architecture must first of all come to terms with
itself, that is, with its specific characteristics; but at the
same time it must also come to terms with its partkular
social responsibility. And in this light the question of its
rapport with the public becomes impossible to ignore,. For
t his reason the language of architecture is-<>r should be-
an accessible language! Moreover, since architecture en-
ters directly into everyday life (for example, through its
extra-artistic functionality), it creates a permanent bond
that provides a firm critical base from which to pass j udg-
ment upon many "good intentions."
But this bond also has an.other aspect, less evident but
just as important, which relates to architecture's partic-
ular evocative purpose. It is the bond between indh<idual
!ISpirations and the great coUective goals; it is this ·c har-
acteristic tension of ideas which animates the most im-
portant passages of history; it is finally the bond of style,
destined to incarnate these goals.
This tension is recognizable in all the great architecture
of the past: in the most significant moments in the history
of cities, in the buildings of these cities, and in their
predominant forms. Nor does it abate with changes En the
historical conditions. And this is so not only because the
forms become part of the collective memory, but also and
above all because these forms interpret goals that have
existed for a very long time. And 1M forms themselves
do 11ot in time lose thei-r effkacy with -re~tpeCt to tlwse
goals.
This is precisely the meaning behind the question that
Hannes Meyer asks at the end of his 1942 work, "The
Soviet Architect" ("La Realidad Sovietica: Los Arquitec-
tos," Arquitectum no. 9, 1942): "Will we, the architects
of the democratic countries, be prepared to entrust the
pyramids to the society of the future?" In this work Meyer
affirms that the historicity of architecture has its base in
its most decisive and profound formal problems; he also
goes beyond the symbolic meaning imputed to the pyra-
forms in general to serve as concrete, perennial testi-
mony.
Moreover, architecture has always been, even in respond-
ing to immediate needs, part of that "world" which most
directly bears witness to the collective desire to leave
traces for the future. In this sense architecture, even at
the moment of its appearance, always finds itself in a
situation of constantly surpassing present actuality in the
attempt to be a collective choice in the broadest sen.s e.
As a matter of fact, the medieval city (in its rationale and
economy), the cathedral together with the elements of the
monarchical or the Neoclassical city, the palaces and the
town squares, are always in their forms something more
than the rea~ city, even as they cons titute it in fact. I
mean that these forms-these irreplaceable passages in
the history of cities-in their response to the expectations
of the present always interpret the utqpia of this present
as well (that is to say they simultaneously evoke a sense
of fitness).
Architecture cannot fail to come to terms with the partic·
ular purpose of its forms-that of testifying, bearing wit-
ness. Mo.r eover, if architecture neglects this task, it fails
in the very sense of its lastingness, its material solidity
(which is also a principle in itself). And this also applies
to even the most personal research. For this reason it is
difficult to accept a great deal of t he current experimen-
talism, even when it takes place within a hypothesis that
is affirmative of architecture. Architecture cannot escape
the fate of being collective work in the broadest sense,
not even at a time when historical conditions seem to offer
no way out. Only by measuring itself against its own
historical experience can architecture reasonably hope to
match this experience, and again become a concrete point
of reference in everyday life.
Figure Credits
i-3, 5, 6 From Giol)lio Grassi and Antonio Monestiroli, Caso.
dello St1tdenu a Ch~tti. (Rome: Edizioni Kappa, 1980).
4 From Gerda Wangerin and Gerhard Weiss, Heinrich
Te88enow (Essen:'Verbg Richard Bacht, !976)h ed . I
Gupyng t matena
 1 (frontispiece) M arclifield
(Marzfeld), R eichsparleilagsgelande,
Nuremberg. Albert Speer, 1940,
destroyed in 1950.
2 Danish Entbassy, Berlin-
Tiergarten. J. E . Schaudt, 1999-
1940. Sclutduledfor demolition in
1980-1981 to make way for an
extension to tlut zoo.
402 Now that construction and the fever for innovation have
calmed down a little, now that the.r e are no handy excuses
for further destruction, the time for reflection is at
hand.... It finds us, however, very ill-equipped , for in
truth, the phoenix of modern architecture did not rise
from the ashes of the war; it was on the contrary born in
the immense suffe.ring of an obligatory postwar oblivion-
an oblivion of the past, of architecture, and of a non-
industrial civilization tout COllrl.
Consequently in Germany one associates traditional and
classical architecture with Nazi tyranny and extermina-
tions. For architects the erection of a classical col.umn
causes more pain than the construction of a nuclear re-
actor. They are more afraid of a splendid classical colon-
nade thl!n of a line-up of Krupp PaJJUn;,
I will therefore try to explain the destruction of so many
classical and traditional st•·uctures by denouncing the
elimination of its most critical and contested examples,
i.e., the most prestigious buildings of Nazi architecture.
In a bitter discussion of the German Werkbund in Drum-
stadt in 1978, the Austrian architect Hans Hollein said.
"Fortunately Hitler didn't have too pronounced a taste for
Wienerschnitzel; othenvise they too would be forbidden
in Germany today." In a similar manner Albert Speer
explained to me that things would be going far bettea· for
classical architecture today if Hitler had been a fanatic for
modern art.
After 1945, the Allied victors did not hesitate to take as
spoils of war aU the enemy's technical and industrial ge-
nius. The Reich's industrialists, technicians, and e ngi-
neers were received with open arms in America, in
France, and in Russia alike. They were able to work in
the comfort of the most reputable institutions and ffi.rms
in order to bring to fruition their most sinister research.
The author of the redoubtable V-2 was to develop the
Saturn missiles; he and his comrades of the swastika were
to be granted the highest marks of distinction by t heir
new patrons.
l!
Let us not forget that the Morgenthau Plan.• commis-
sioned by t he Roosevelt and Truman administrations, had
proposed to transform the tenitory of the former Reich
into a purely agricultural landscape with medieval cus-
toms. One ignores, however. that the central objective of
this project was the maximum industrialization of t he
Ruhr and Saar land , to be exploited by multinational
trusts. The proletarians of t hese intemational industrial
zones would probably have had very little to be envied by
the slave.s of the SS industr-ial empire.
The amusing remarks of Hollein and Speer cannot make
us forget, however, that the oblivion of the German past,
however radical, has also been very selective-and very
calculating. But let us imagine for a moment that things
h;1d gone differently . ..
A Politico-Cultur-al Fable
Let us imagine that the repression of Nazism has j ust led
to the destruction of its most grandiose and typical •·eal-
izations. Thus, for example, Albert Speer· has spent the
last months of his ministry undertaking the total destmc-
tion of the industrial installations of the Reich. Let us also
suppose that under the Morgenthau Plan the Saar and the
Ruhr have been in fact transformed into agricultural and
cattle-breeding areas.
Thus in 1946 we see legions of workers all across the old
Reich te.aring up the highways, dynamiting the b•·and new
interch·anges, re-planting fields and forests over the re-
mains of the gigantic industrial in,;tallations. The t-oncen-
tration camps ar-e transformed into commemorative mon-
uments, but in the same fever of atonement the "Heimann
Goering" (Salzgitter) steelworks and Volkswagen facto-
ries ru-e destroyed. Where for years t he diabolical war
machine had been fo•·ged, now vineyards grow.
To the amazement of the free world. not only are the
emblems and banners of the Reich thrown on t.he scrap-
heap, but also the thousands of gray 'beetles' with which
the FUhrer had hoped to mobilize and subjugate t he Ger-
man people and all of Europe ...
Copyrighted material
3 For the reconstTuction of Gl':l.,wn
cities, r:raft production tootdd have
been completely eliminated
followi,lg Hitler's Housing Edict ~f
19H.
The Bauordnungslebre, a huge book
published by Ermt Neufert 1111der
the awtpices of Albert Speer in 1943,
demonstrates that by 1950 at the
Latest Nazi arcltil«ture toould lw.ve
adopted not only the town-planning
p1inciples of CI AM, but the
buildings would have looked lik.e
t>refab buildings as tJtmJ looked all
over the toorld!
4 Boulet'O.rd Lampposts on the east·
west cu;is of Berlin. A lbert Speer,
1939.

405

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~
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...- -.prridooa ........ -
,...__,~ -~ .. ~ ........... -
... lc.ll.h.a--"-
~---...k .-ckf.W.C.P,a--t ... V......... Die ..... VOifAiwo ....._lit:h 1::8,.. G.cW.

3 Cooynqhted mat nul

406 mayor of Munich decided to dynamite t he Haus der
Deutschen Kunst (fig. 5). This prestigious building, which
had s urvived all the bombini,'S in one piece, was saved in
e:~;tremi8 by the American military commander. Speer's
masterpiece, the Chancellery (figs. 7, 8), on the other
hand, served the Russians as a quarry for the construction
of the gigantic monument to the dead of Treptow (fig. 9),
a small price to pay for so many victims and sacrifices.
But in 1967, it was no longer t he conquerors who dyna-
mited Speer's long and elegant colonnade in Nuremberg
(figs. 10, 11). Did Berlin really hope to enrich itself by
dynamiting, in the totally ruined Tiergarten quarter. the
only grand building of Speer's circus (Runder Platz) in
order to erect Mies van der Robe's National Gallery (figs.
12-14)? So many examples from history were available as
examples of wisdom, devoid of all this confusion which
forces us today to pile massacre upon massacre. For in-
stance, we know that the t1iumphal arch of Chalgrin.
erected to the memory of Napoleon's victories, was only
completed after the death of both, under a restored mon-
archy.

Similarly the Christian churches, upon papal bull, were

erected in the Roman baths and basilicas. not least in
order to ensm-e the transition from one culture to another,
rather than making a vict01·'s ultimate challenge to already
prostrate beliefs.

But here the impotence and .vacuous ness, Lhe lack of cul-
tural and human content. and the deep insecurity of this
modernis m, which was always and e verywhere to conquer
through destruction, was not even able to reuse the most
prestigious buildings of the vanquished and saw fit to bury
the llfilitary Academy, one of the few architectural com-
plexes to be completed dming the Third Reich, under the
6 gigantic mound of debris that is the Teufelsberg in the
Grunewald of Berlin.

Society Assassinawl
While citizens everywhere are calling modern urbanism
and architecture into question, the "architects" continue
to argue over its deceptive appearance. For the fallacious
and labile masquerade of the styles-first Neoclassical,

Copy •gll,ed matenal

408

10
10 Speer's own ltcuse in Zelllendoif
was ironically /til; only builcling
destroyed by bombi;,g.
11 Colonnade al Zeppelinfeld.
Albert Speer, 1935-1937, destroyed
in 1967.
12 Model of Albert Speer's plan for
the Runder Platz, Berlin, showing
the P•·emdenve•·kehrshans.

11
Copyng ' d m<Jtc 1al