Description

By prefacing the term functioning with a set of sensations and employing the word “sweetness,” Alison and Peter Smithson show the work of designing a floor plan in a different light. As architects who felt committed to modernism, they never questioned the necessity of functionality, which would after all be unthinkable in housing with its complex functional requirements. Yet they never relied solely on the functionality of the built structure; rather, they based their arguments on the pleasure of physically sensing that and how a house does function.

“… the light and the space and the air are one. Sniff the air, sense the space, know how to act.” This expands the perspective: from working on a floor plan as an abstract and uninhabited concept to considering what the floor plan will become once it is in use. And conversely, how the work on a floor plan can be inspired if the person who designs it embraces all possible facets of use: the joy of exploring the potential of the floor plan, of resting in and moving through the space, and of engaging with the particular characteristics of a house – be it the sensory experience of its rooms or the manner in which they connect the inhabitant to his surroundings.

Ways of Reading

In his essay “Figures, Doors and Passages,” the architectural theorist Robin Evans also explores the relationship between floor plans and their use by inhabitants. To this end, he compares the plans for two villas, one by John Webb, the other by Andrea Palladio. His description focuses less on the floor plans as such than on two different ways of reading them.

In John Webb’s design for Amesbury House in Wiltshire (1661), the use to which the house is put seems secondary, for the architect has already anticipated and predetermined it in the plan. According to Evans, the process of industrialization and the separation of living and working led to the provision of privacy becoming the definitive topic in the debate on housing. The instrument of this intimacy is not the occupant of the house, but the house itself. Thus the plan for Amesbury House features a corridor and a two-tiered stairwell, which regulate all movement. In this case, the plan becomes a mechanism, capable of guiding its inhabitants to specific modes of behavior. One way of reading, therefore, is to test the spatial layout for its functionality and the systematic separation of private and public zones.

Such rules drove the design of floor plans in housing for a long time and, in addition to other factors, led to the extreme determination of floor plan structures. And this trend was further advanced during the modern era in particular, when the pursuit of economy and rationality led many architects to such functional and apparently logical solutions. The use of the house has only little relevance when verifying its functionality. The functions are predetermined to such a degree as to eliminate any surprises in the subsequent use.

In the second example cited by Evans, the Palazzo Antonini in Udine by Andrea Palladio (1556), the floor plan is only comprehensible through the history of how it was used. Evans uses a literary reference (a chambermaid was asked to guard one of the many rooms, thus temporarily separating it from the spatial continuum, in order to ensure privacy for a tête-à-tête) to explain that floor plans of this kind are greatly dependent on the ability of the occupants to control their boundaries. For all rooms in this plan are directly linked to one another as parts of an open sequence of spaces; they are equal in terms of structural prominence and are entirely indeterminate with regard to function or placement. Even the lavatories are connecting spaces.

Amesbury House, Wiltshire, 1661 (left); Andrea Palladio (right)
Source: John Webb, Andrea Palladio

Polyvalence

Thus the second way of reading operates on a completely different level. The reader speculates what may take place because the floor plan does not provide any clues as to what should take place. The indeterminate nature of the floor plan of the Palazzo Antonini turns out to be polyvalent: the potentialities of use are established, but only come to life through reading and using. In their residential building, Riegler Riewe have turned polyvalence into a design principle – not in the sense of Palladio, where it emerged more as a byproduct of his open, predominantly representative spatial order, but as a structured, very controlled and well-researched floor plan, whose numerous links between rooms of similar size allow for particularly diverse interpretations and functional allocations.

The activities of the residents were taken into account here. Instead of preemptively assigning each space a specific function such as living room, dining room, kitchen, bedroom and office, bathroom and WC, shared scenarios were devised in which the users relax, come together or seek out privacy, eat, cook, sleep, work, or wash and relieve themselves. The degree of interconnectedness between the rooms appears to be the most important aspect, as if the functions of the floor plan can only emerge once a spatial disposition of the volumes has been precisely arranged. Polyvalence, in working on a design, means creating spaces so rich and dense that they can be interpreted and occupied in a variety of ways.

Similarly, the floor plan for the Minus K House is composed of a homogenous matrix of equal-sized rooms, whose intended use is only hinted at through their linkages – either axially, on their sides, or diagonally with open corners to create larger areas.

Bahnhofstraße, Graz-Straßgang, 1994
Source: Riegler Riewe

Minus K House, Nanhui, Shanghai, 2010
Source: KUU Architects

Offer

In Peter Märkli’s houses, functionality seems to play a subordinate role in the floor plan. He generates spatial tensions in his floor plan compositions and avoids anything that might be read as static and unambiguous; he allows the space to flow, creating the basis for the most varied forms of use. In his residential building in Trübbach, the apartments are organized by means of three volumes set off from one another and the middle wall. The kitchen is inserted and forms an entryway together with the loggia on the other side, while a fireplace at the far end of the room defines yet another locale by virtue of its corporeality and orientation. A sanitary core, around which the internal paths seem to circulate, is set back from the facade on the other side of the middle wall. There is no hallway or corridor. The subtle rhythmization of the areas – small-large-small on the entrance side, and large-small-large on the other side – evokes a flow of movement that blurs the boundaries and functions of the individual rooms, a quality that is further enhanced by the cohesively continuous facade. Although the floor plan establishes certain guidelines, it nevertheless remains polyvalent. The reader can promenade through such drawings as if on a virtual tour, measuring open spaces and defined areas of use, all the while speculating and deciding on how the house can be used.

Residential building, Trübbach, 1989
Source: Peter Märkli with Gody Kühnis

Even more extreme are use-neutral and semi-finished buildings like the Kölner Brett by the architects b&k+ brandlhuber&kniess. The occupant is not only asked to establish a relationship with an existing spatial composition, he or she is even called upon to envision and then carry out its completion. This places a greater emphasis on use as an act of design. More than just reinterpreting the reading of a floor plan, here it remains to be completed.

To begin with, the building is use-neutral and the rooms are empty. The drawing of the spatial configuration is no more than an abstract system. Spatial manipulation, a linkage of flat, yet wide and tall, albeit narrow spaces, options for horizontal and vertical connections all contribute to form a spatial conglomerate, which offers sufficient density in any imaginable constellation.

Although the built units are empty and undefined, they are not devoid of atmosphere, for the concept, which is entirely diagrammatic to begin with, is defined by materiality and sensuality. Exposed concrete, massive oak planks, and tall wooden doors, which block the view behind the glazed facades at precisely those points where one walks through – all these elements define the character of the house. Given the emptiness and lack of definition, the occupant can seize upon these elements as a starting point of orientation.

“Kölner Brett”, Cologne, 1999

Discretion

Evans’ comparison between the floor plans of Webb and Palladio leads to another design question: was the guiding principle the separation or rather the connection of residents when the floor plan was being developed and its walls drawn? For instance, the categorical demand for the respect of privacy in the Amesbury House can be more subtly laid out in the floor plan design without such a strict spatial determination. An occupant who is able to connect with the space is also able to recognize openly formulated bound-aries; the floor plan design may thus rely on the occupant’s ability for discretion. Alvar Aalto’s plan for a residential building in Berlin’s Hansaviertel is particularly impressive to study, because such a balance is achieved: the focal point of the unit is clearly the idea of an open living room, – which he dubbed “the market square” – as the intersection of all movement. However, the rest of the apartment is so tactfully organized that no one ever feels too exposed. One of the doors to the private rooms is obscured by an equally wide support pillar, and to reach the others one first has to turn a corner; the dining area is part of the living room but formulated as a protected niche behind a wooden screen, thus slightly separated.

Residential building in Hansaviertel, Berlin 1957 (left); House O, Chiba, 2007
Source: Alvar Aalto; Sou Fujimoto

In House O, in which open spaces for living, eating, cooking, washing, and sleeping are all accommodated in a single large room, the branches in the floor plan point to the intimacy of individual areas – simply by virtue of preventing direct sightlines. The bed only comes into view after one has changed direction several times; the connection is delayed but not interrupted.

The residential units of SL Court are organized as split-levels and it is likewise not walls, but here the subtly offset levels that produce a feeling of safe distance. Only the bedrooms in the middle are given additional translucent sliding elements. One single space flows openly throughout the unit without completely dissolving the borders of the individual areas, enabling dense living in close proximity.

SL Court, Urawa, 2014
Source: Field Design Architects

Pleasure

In the drawings “Small Pleasures of Life,” Alison and Peter Smithson sketch an outline of how plain use can become a true pleasure. They cite the places where occupants can take possession of the house and explain how the house as a whole is enriched by the subtle definition of these places. Their observations seem to be rooted more in the experiences of an occupant who knows how to enjoy amenities like these than in the functional knowledge of an architect.

It must be noted that the highly specific window openings, in particular, are functionally predetermined in their sketches: they are arranged to direct the sightline and to clearly define the position of the inhabitant. There are spaces for sitting and looking outside, just as there are spaces for introspection. Rooms are not defined and delimited as dining room, bedroom, or kitchen; rather the architects extend an invitation to settle down in specific areas. And although one of the areas may be suitable for sitting on a sofa, that is by no means an indication that this space has been exclusively defined as a living room.

“Small Pleasures of Life”

Alison and Peter Smithson’s Sugden House is similarly distinguished by this kind of spatial definition of locales and the finely calibrated treatment of boundaries and transitions. This begins with the earth wall and the bench along its edge, which mark the ground level of the house. The house seems to have several entrances, giving equal value to all sides. The narrow metal sheets above the lintel seem to mark rather than shelter these entrance doors. The brickwork that surrounds the openings enhances the corporeal integrity of the house. In the interior, these openings inspire specific uses and activities; the inhabitant is connected to the outside world in different yet always unique ways.

In the house, the subtle treatment of the details characterizes the atmosphere of the whole. Take, for example, the additional step by which the bedrooms are raised: this gives them even greater privacy, while the living room below benefits from a higher ceiling and thus gains a greater spatial presence. The fireplace and the stairs define the large common area on the ground floor. At the same time, they also divide the large room and create a sense of shelter for the occupant rather than feeling “exposed” in a single large space. The bottom of the staircase is positioned in a manner that allows just enough space for lateral movement, while suggesting the path down the middle of the living room.

Sugden House, Watford, 1957
Source: Alison and Peter Smithson

Although the floor plan is far from undetermined, it allows for great flexibility and the house thus achieves a balanced relationship between predetermined function and possible use. The design for the Sugden House “anticipates the matters of living,” as Martin Steinmann* writes. The house seems to be imbued with a profound knowledge of what makes habitation enjoyable and how use makes the house into a home.

Similarly, Rudolf Olgiati’s Witzig House could have served as a motif for Alison and Peter Smithson’s sketches in that it is laid out with such a sense of comfort and scenic spaces, offering its inhabitants places for enjoying the surroundings. The funnel-shaped view from the dining area, the large window overlooking the valley, the sculptural cut-out window combined with a bench for taking in the mountain in one direction and facing the fireplace in the center of the room in the other direction: these spaces alternate between opening up expansive vistas and appearing enclosed and introverted. Occupants naturally use houses of this kind in a very intuitive manner.

House Witzig, Flims-Waldhaus, 1966

“To Read in Bed”
Source: A. + P. Smithson, in: Changing the Art of Inhabitation, London, Munich, 1994

Such floor plans require readers who take pleasure in deciphering their distinctive features. When encountering irritations or blank spaces, the question “how is this supposed to function” should be an expression of curiosity rather than a mere commentary. This book addresses questions of this kind. Ultimately, the Floor Plan Manual Housing also provides an opportunity to read potential ways of living into the numerous examples it presents. The reader can peruse all the floor plans in this book, reading them simultaneously in a critical and curious, an analytical and imaginative manner. Even as bedtime reading.

 

* Literature

Martin Steinmann, “Das Haus als meine Welt – Zum architektonischen Denken von Michael Alder” (werk, bauen+wohnen 06, 2001)

 

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Originally published in: Oliver Heckmann, Friederike Schneider with Eric Zapel (eds.), Floor Plan Manual Housing, fifth revised and expanded edition, Birkhäuser, 2018.