On the morning of May 13, 2008, 3,000 architecture students and 200 faculty members lost their building. Bouwkunde was gutted in a matter of hours. By 18:00 the flames were still licking the walls on the lower stories, but this seemed more like an afterthought, rather than rampant destruction.
The fire had already turned 50 years of models, drawings, and ideas into ash. The flames destroyed not only the physical building, but the place in which we lived. Our creative anchor, our central meeting point, our coffee breaks, our bad reviews, our inspired moments: Bouwkunde was home to all of this. In the end, although the loss of Van den Broek and Bakema’s iconic building is a great one, and although most of the things we lost are irreplaceable, the real loss is the sense of place. As Dr. Machiel van Dorst put it, “We are homeless.” Homeless in the sense that we cannot simply walk into that space anymore and find our work spaces crowded with friends and colleagues. We can no longer meet unexpectedly for a decent cup of coffee at the recycled espresso bar. And we cannot claim any space as our own. Despite the offers of assistance from disparate sources, we are refugees, dependent on the help of others in our desperation.
As we assembled the morning after the fire to discuss the future of the faculty, there was certainly something grim about the gathering. The atmosphere was that of a funeral: soft voices and sad eyes. The dean of the faculty, Wytze Patijn, was so overcome with emotion that he struggled to speak about the loss. But in the aftermath of crisis, there is the proverbial ray of sunshine, and this case was no different. In the days following the fire, our chaotic meetings at the Aula seemed to bring back some sense of belonging. For the first time since August, I sat amidst every single student in my graduation studio. We were tied together by some bond that was not present three weeks ago. It seems that, although the building which housed our little world is gone, it is us – the thinkers and drawers, not the thoughts and drawings – which really matter. It’s us, because we are Bouwkunde: the students and faculty, not the concrete and steel.
Emails have come in from alumni across the world expressing their solidarity with the current students. And as the days continue to pass, each one of us deals with the loss of personal objects and favorite items. The infamous chair collection, which was mostly saved, seems to be a symbol of the possibility of hope for other things. On May 16 the wrecking ball is scheduled to swing, but rumors are rampant that perhaps, just perhaps, some of the incredible books in the architecture library can be saved. The optimists among us are waiting for Wytze Patijn to announce some miracle of construction that saved the whole library.
So as we gradually appropriate spaces in which to study, there is some kind of joy in stumbling across people drawing architectural details on the grass roof of the other library. We seem to find each other in strange places now, sketching plans and sections at some sunny terrace in Delft, at the Netherlands Architecture Institute, or The Berlage. We have had our own small diaspora, but instead of simply scattering us, it seems to bring us closer together. The informality of our current existence is a reminder of the temporality of all things. If anything, such total destruction makes us realize the transitory nature of people, places, things. In this case, our lives will forever share a moment of connection, when loss was great. But this will not remain a source of sorrow. It is a place to grow from, a fresh start, and, as we architects like to say, ‘an opportunity for greatness’.
01 infoblokje:If you’d like to share your own experience online, ‘B-Nieuws’, the Architecture periodical, has set up a website on which to post memories, stories, photos, videos, or simply to read about what others are feeling. Go to bouwkunde.wordpress.com, and use the comment function to add your own piece to the story.
Dorothy Parker, MSc Architecture, is from the United States. Her next column will be published in Delta 20. She can be emailed at: onbezorgd@gmail.com
On the morning of May 13, 2008, 3,000 architecture students and 200 faculty members lost their building. Bouwkunde was gutted in a matter of hours. By 18:00 the flames were still licking the walls on the lower stories, but this seemed more like an afterthought, rather than rampant destruction. The fire had already turned 50 years of models, drawings, and ideas into ash. The flames destroyed not only the physical building, but the place in which we lived. Our creative anchor, our central meeting point, our coffee breaks, our bad reviews, our inspired moments: Bouwkunde was home to all of this. In the end, although the loss of Van den Broek and Bakema’s iconic building is a great one, and although most of the things we lost are irreplaceable, the real loss is the sense of place. As Dr. Machiel van Dorst put it, “We are homeless.” Homeless in the sense that we cannot simply walk into that space anymore and find our work spaces crowded with friends and colleagues. We can no longer meet unexpectedly for a decent cup of coffee at the recycled espresso bar. And we cannot claim any space as our own. Despite the offers of assistance from disparate sources, we are refugees, dependent on the help of others in our desperation.
As we assembled the morning after the fire to discuss the future of the faculty, there was certainly something grim about the gathering. The atmosphere was that of a funeral: soft voices and sad eyes. The dean of the faculty, Wytze Patijn, was so overcome with emotion that he struggled to speak about the loss. But in the aftermath of crisis, there is the proverbial ray of sunshine, and this case was no different. In the days following the fire, our chaotic meetings at the Aula seemed to bring back some sense of belonging. For the first time since August, I sat amidst every single student in my graduation studio. We were tied together by some bond that was not present three weeks ago. It seems that, although the building which housed our little world is gone, it is us – the thinkers and drawers, not the thoughts and drawings – which really matter. It’s us, because we are Bouwkunde: the students and faculty, not the concrete and steel.
Emails have come in from alumni across the world expressing their solidarity with the current students. And as the days continue to pass, each one of us deals with the loss of personal objects and favorite items. The infamous chair collection, which was mostly saved, seems to be a symbol of the possibility of hope for other things. On May 16 the wrecking ball is scheduled to swing, but rumors are rampant that perhaps, just perhaps, some of the incredible books in the architecture library can be saved. The optimists among us are waiting for Wytze Patijn to announce some miracle of construction that saved the whole library.
So as we gradually appropriate spaces in which to study, there is some kind of joy in stumbling across people drawing architectural details on the grass roof of the other library. We seem to find each other in strange places now, sketching plans and sections at some sunny terrace in Delft, at the Netherlands Architecture Institute, or The Berlage. We have had our own small diaspora, but instead of simply scattering us, it seems to bring us closer together. The informality of our current existence is a reminder of the temporality of all things. If anything, such total destruction makes us realize the transitory nature of people, places, things. In this case, our lives will forever share a moment of connection, when loss was great. But this will not remain a source of sorrow. It is a place to grow from, a fresh start, and, as we architects like to say, ‘an opportunity for greatness’.
01 infoblokje:If you’d like to share your own experience online, ‘B-Nieuws’, the Architecture periodical, has set up a website on which to post memories, stories, photos, videos, or simply to read about what others are feeling. Go to bouwkunde.wordpress.com, and use the comment function to add your own piece to the story.
Dorothy Parker, MSc Architecture, is from the United States. Her next column will be published in Delta 20. She can be emailed at: onbezorgd@gmail.com
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