WHAT IS A HOUSE FOR住宅所为何
WHAT IS A HOUSE FOR住宅所为何House byTalk withInfo

Mario Carpo: It’s an idea of the fifties, built in the sixties, that came to market in the seventies. The high rises of the Barbican estate were inaugurated only a few months before Charles Jencks published „The language of postmodern architecture”. That was the tipping point. Before 1977, the Barbican was the future. In 1977 the Barbican became the past.

IT IS A HOUSING COMPLEX THAT CAN BE LOVED AND HATED AT THE SAME TIME. 

The spirit of modernism—the Frankenstein-like monster of post-war society’s techno-social imagination—was a strong proponent of the idea that individual housing should not exist. Instead, mass-produced and prefabricated apartments should serve as a template for standardised living. It was not only a pragmatic response to the conditions of a big city, pushing to build densely. It was an ideology of mass-production and economy of scale, addressed to modern men and women, supposed to be themselves standard products.

The Barbican Estate was the result of this modernist ideology: its vast scale, repetition, exposed concrete, and central heating system expressed clearly the credo of the fifties. Even though it was a relatively expensive complex addressed to the upper middle class, aesthetically and atmospherically it did not fit to its time. Starting from the late 1970s, its design was seen as the materialisation of a previous generation’s dreams. 

Today, many perceive it to be a plain structure of 2000 affordable homes, they photograph, and study it as such, but nothing could be further from the truth. It is not and never was a social housing complex.

WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE MISCONCEPTION?

People think that brutalism was the style of social housing because social housing was built in concrete, which is why the Barbican is so popular among my students. But it’s only a nostalgia for the time when the state actually built social housing.  But then, in 1979, Margaret Thatcher was elected and ushered in her ‘Right to Buy’ project - a policy that effectively eliminated social housing.

If you compare the Barbican Estate with other British social housing, evidently it was never meant to be one. It was more expensive from the start, and it had a more sophisticated design intention. It was not pure “techy” brutalism, so to speak, in Renyer Banham’s original sense of the term; and it was no longer international modernism.  It is wacky and wonky; “artsy” in a sense. There was an ambition of ornamentation, decoration, it expressed a character.

…AND YOU WANTED TO GO BEYOND MERE OBSERVATION AND EXPLORE THE MODERNIST IDEOLOGY WITH YOUR SENSES AND EXPERIENCES, BY LIVING THERE FOR A FEW YEARS…

Yes, I wanted to try it. I am a tenant for life, so to speak--I don’t own real estate--and I have been fortunate enough to live, briefly, in some memorable residences. When I retire and look back on all my memories, I may put them all in a book. 

As far as I am concerned, the Barbican Estate embodies the modernist ideology through its technical choices, rather than in its often-peculiar design.

The heating system, for a start.  There is underfloor heating everywhere--and electric to boot, an unusual choice at the time, and at that scale.  Chamberlain, Powell and Bon had this forward-thinking notion that heating should be ubiquitous, isotropic, homogenous, and invisible - underfloor - like magic! It would ensure permanent thermal comfort without any intervention from the tenants, without the residents even ever knowing where the heat came from. This was an ideal of modernism: a controllable nature. Enter any apartment and you’d always find a perfect temperature--which for Le Corbusier was meant to be 18 Celsius for all and forever.  But then reality hit them hard; managing this type of system proved to be too costly, so estate management opted for a lower “background” temperature of 15 C instead – which isn’t warm enough. Moreover, the estate purchases electricity in bulk on the energy market when prices are low, and they heat their apartments from midnight to 6 a.m. This means that you wake up every day at 6 a.m., stepping into what feels like a sauna! And there is basically no heating during the day, so after 12 a.m. it starts to be too cold in winter. There are no gas pipes anywhere at the  Barbican, therefore the only way to heat your apartment is an electric stove or space heater—dangerous and expensive. This seems hard to believe, but, although all underfloor heating in the estate is electric, there is no way to install a single thermostat--anywhere.  You may open the windows when it’s too hot, and turn your electric stove on when it’s too cold, but otherwise you are left at the mercy of a ubiquitous, unstoppable system of centralised  heating which is controlled by a remote, anonymous, centralised bureaucracy, ideally benevolent: almost a metaphor of the welfare state, where even heating is planned for all, from cradle to grave: heating by consensus and by committee.   I discussed this argument at length in a recent article; you may read it here (https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating) 

To put it bluntly, the heating in the Barbican is a nightmare and that is one of the reasons why so much retrofitting has to be done when wealthy people buy these apartments and realise that it is not possible to adjust the heating. 

In my opinion, a house should be a place where anyone can choose the thermal environment that best suits their needs. Whether you prefer it hot or cold, open windows or closed; the beauty of postmodernism is recognising that no two people are alike - and neither are their temperature preferences! Modernism believed in homogeneity; postmodernism didn’t. 

WHAT ARE THE OTHER PROBLEMS OF THE BARBICAN ESTATE?

There is a phenomenon, a problem occurring particularly in the towers, which is incidentally where I lived, which I would call vertical gentrification. At the top of the high rises the tycoons, the billionaires, the oligarchs buy apartments, and combine two or three of them together. In practice, it leads to a permanent building site on the top floors. If you live in a building made of massive, reinforced concrete, you hear a spoon dropped on the 30th floor all the way down to the basement. Given that, think of builders drilling all day long, demolishing reinforced concrete or hanging suspended ceilings, remaking bathrooms.  During the pandemic in particular, when we were all working from home, it was hell.  

From what I have seen, the new prosperous residents of the Barbican are not pleased with its spartan style, wanting instead more luxurious and polished finishes. What’s more, even though the apartments were considered quite large in their time, they were planned with tiny bathrooms, likely due to the era’s spirit of frugality. Today’s affluent owners have different tastes; so bathrooms are being retrofitted.  

For instance, in the tower where I lived during the pandemic, there was a kind of stone cutting shop installed on the top floors, for months on end, which consequently meant that one out of the three elevators was permanently used by the builders, going up and down, delivering slabs of marble. 

In my opinion, this “vertical” gentrification is a result of a discrepancy of taste. The rich probably don’t like how the building looks, and they have no interest in brutalism of the 60s and 70s--which probably reminds them of social housing, even if the parallel is unwarranted in this instance.  But they say the same of the Barbican towers as Zola said of the Eiffel Tower - the only way not to see it is to be on top of it. Due to the layout of the plan, each apartment has two or three aspects. It was until recently the tallest residential building in London - 41 floors. The view from the top is stunning, so the people buy the view and remake everything, which turns the life of all the residents below into a nightmare.

The complaints about noise, which is extreme in the high rises, seem to be manageable in the horizontal blocks, because the pressure of real estate there is not as strong. If you’re looking for a view from the top, you don’t have it. The apartments are smaller, cheaper. The oligarchs don’t buy the flats that really look like “middle class” social housing--which they were. 

WHAT WERE YOUR POSITIVE EXPERIENCES? IS THERE SOMETHING THAT YOU FOUND FANTASTIC?

I told you the experience of a resident, noise, neighbours, etc. But, as an architect it is always good to be surrounded by design. I don’t always like the choices of Chamberlin, Powell and Bon. At times it seems to me that they didn’t have the technology and the means to sustain their ambitions. However, in spite of these shortcomings, it is good to see a design intention all around you, when you wake up in the morning. 

It doesn’t have to be the intention of an architect you like; it just needs to be driven by a vision. If you are a designer, or if you simply care about design intelligence, it is something that makes your life better.  

In Barbican, the architects’ concrete tectonics are remarkable, very much in the spirit of Paul Rudolph. Even though I don’t particularly appreciate Paul Rudolph’s designs, it’s evident he was a great designer. When I taught at the Yale School of Architecture - an intimidatingly large concrete building by Rudolph - everything about it captivated my eyes, from its proportions to its craftsmanship. It’s clear that this structure has been carefully and skillfully built, first and foremost, in the mind of an architect--and an architect of genius.  As I said, it doesn’t have to be a vision you share; its consistency and strength is enough to please one’s eyes and mind. 

WHEN DO YOU FEEL AT HOME IN THE BARBICAN? IS IT WHEN YOU STEP OFF THE STREET AND INTO THE LOBBY, OR LATER WHEN YOU ARRIVE TO AND ENTER YOUR OWN APARTMENT? 

Although I liked the lobby, it certainly didn’t feel like home. It felt more like waiting for a train at the station with people constantly coming and going.  plus, there’s still that feeling of being in a public space surrounded by strangers. The doorman was always on duty, vigilantly keeping watch over the area.

But when you open your door and step inside, there’s a feeling of being right at home. It almost feels like magic! Imagine the experience of taking an elevator 120 meters up – it’s just as if you were climbing a mountain in the Alps. The clouds below feel so close that when they part to reveal the sun above, it is breathtaking - similar to being on an aeroplane with clouds beneath and sunshine reflecting off its wings! 

All this comes after leaving the cavernous and almost chthonian, sinister darkness of the lobbies and elevators behind you; pushing through your front door leads into full sunlight. That was a pleasure.

AFTER FIVE YEARS OF LIVING THERE, HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE WHOLE COMPLEX? 

The Barbican is famously labyrinthine. Every time you go out and cross the public plaza, someone will ask you: „excuse me, do you know how to get to…” Everyone is permanently lost. It is the result of the idea of a separation of traffics and the segregation of normal streets--which are replaced here by aerial pedestrian walkways. Meaning, there is the very intricate pedestrian platform, made of corridors, passageways, bridges, and balconies that are not at the scale of the city and must be learnt and not followed. 

Chamberlain, Powell and Bon fully embraced the Corbusian modernist ideals of separating functions, and in particular, removing traffic. Cars are in tunnels and pedestrians are on bridges and platforms; in theory, a safe pedestrian paradise. Shortly thereafter we realised that sometimes it is easier and more pleasant to share the road with different traffics, rather than having an apartheid system whereby bicycles only meet bicycles, cars only cars and pedestrians, only other pedestrians. But this came a little later, with postmodernism: the idea to design a new streetscape meant to integrate different traffics: bicycles, pedestrian and cars. The platform is the element that dates the project the most. Modernism was about segregation; postmodernism has been about integration.  

WHAT ABOUT INTEGRATION OF DIVERSE ACTIVITIES IN A HOUSE?

What we have learnt in the last two or three years is that the idea that you leave home to go to work and you come back home after you have been working and then you leave home, again, to go out to the movies, or go shopping, or whatever, has fallen apart. Now we need to reinvent a place where we can live and work and have fun at the same time, which by the way was the normal way of living before the industrial revolution.  

Back then--in the pre-industrial age, which was not long ago--every office was a home office. People worked at home - artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers; shirtmakers, shoemakers, hatmakers, tailors, seamstresses...  They had a little shop in the same building where they lived, sometimes on different floors. That’s the way they lived before we invented the railway and we decided that we needed to go and work in a different place. This preconceived idea has been truly challenged during the pandemic, when artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers were joined by white collar workers--insurance brokers, doctors, teachers. It showed who really needed to “go to work” and who could “work from home”.

Of course, we shouldn’t neglect the psychological effects, which are becoming more understood and consequential, the need and meaning for us as social beings, to go out, to meet other people.  Today’s new IT (information technology) will inevitably probe and challenge the supposedly “natural” models of community and proximity we have inherited from the past.  

Yet, today, market forces keep building bigger and bigger offices, authorities around the world are still investing in building new metro and subway lines and new office buildings, the system remains convinced that it is the easiest way to make cities profitable. It was perhaps a good idea to build office buildings in 1922, when data was centralised; now in 2023, only the computer server is centralised, all data management can be remote and despatialised (i.e., most office work can happen anywhere).

NOBODY IS BUILDING THE HOUSES PEOPLE NEED. THAT’S THE PARADOX. 

The Barbican was conceived in 1956 when people left home at 8 a.m. to go to work. They came back home at 6 p.m. and some people will still do that, but fewer and fewer people will. It’s time to invent something different. We need new spaces, and new technical infrastructure’s that will allow people to live, work, shop and have fun with minimal physical displacement, and minimising the need for the mechanical transportation of people, raw materials, food, and goods.  The Barbican, which is a monument to carbon footprint, may not be easy to retrofit for that purpose.  Time will tell...  

15.09.2022

马里奥-卡波： 这是一个50年代的想法，在60年代建造，在70年代进入市场。巴比肯住宅区的高层建筑在查尔斯-詹克斯（Charles Jencks）发表 《后现代建筑的语言》前几个月才开始启用。那是一个转折点。在1977年之前，巴比肯是未来。1977年，巴比肯成为了过去。

它是一个让人可以既爱又恨的住宅综合体。

现代主义的精神——战后社会的技术社会想象中弗兰肯斯坦般的怪物——坚定地支持独立住宅不应存在的观念。相反，大规模生产和预制的公寓应该作为标准化生活的模板。这不仅是对大城市条件的务实回应，推动了建筑的密集化。这是一种大规模生产和规模经济的意识形态，针对的是现代男女，他们被假定为标准化的产品。

巴比肯屋村是这种现代主义意识形态的结果：其巨大的规模、重复、裸露的混凝土和中央供暖系统明确表达了50年代的信条。尽管它是一个相对昂贵的建筑群，针对中上层阶级，但从美学和氛围上来说，它并不适合于它的时代。从70年代末开始，它的设计被视为上一代人梦想的具体化。

今天，许多人认为它是一个由2000套经济适用房组成的普通构筑物，他们拍摄并研究它，但实际情况与此相去甚远。它从未是一个社会住房综合体，也永远不是。

这种误解的根源是什么？

人们认为粗野主义是社会住房的风格，因为社会住房是用混凝土建造的，这就是为什么巴比肯在我的学生中如此受欢迎。但这只是对国家实际上建造社会住房时代的怀旧。但后来在1979年，玛格丽特-撒切尔当选，并迎来了她的 "购买权 "项目——这项政策实际上消除了社会住房。

如果你将巴比肯屋村与其他英国社会住房进行比较，显然它从来就不是为了成为一个社会住房。它从一开始就更为昂贵，而且具有更复杂的设计意图。它不是纯粹的 "技术性 "粗野主义，可以说是雷尼尔-班纳姆最初意义上的粗野主义；它也不再是国际现代主义。 它是古怪的，不稳定的；在某种意义上是 "艺术的"。它具有修饰，装饰的野心，它表达了一种性格。

...而你想超越单纯的观察，用你的感官和经验来探索现代主义的意识形态，在那里生活几年...

是的，我想试试。我是个终身租户，可以这么说——我不拥有房地产——我有幸在一些令人难忘的住所中短暂的居住过。当我退休并回顾我所有的记忆时，我可能会把它们都写进一本书。

在我看来，巴比肯屋村通过其技术选择，而不是其通常特别的设计，体现了现代主义的思想。

首先是供暖系统。 巴比肯住宅区使用的是通铺的电地暖，这在当时以及那样的规模下是一种不寻常的选择。张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司有一个具有前瞻性的概念，即供暖应该是无处不在的、各向同性的、均匀的和无形的——地板下的——就像魔术一样！这将确保恒温舒适，而不需要在地面上留下痕迹，也不需要住户的任何干预，甚至他们都不知道热量从何而来。这是现代主义的一个理想：一个可控制的自然。进入任何一间公寓，你都能感受到完美的温度——对勒-柯布西耶来说，这个温度应该是18摄氏度，永远适用于所有人。 但是，现实给了他们沉重的打击；管理这种类型的系统被证明太昂贵了，所以屋村管理部门选择了一个较低的 "背景 "温度，即15摄氏度——这并不够温暖。此外，当价格低的时候，屋村在能源市场上大量购买电力，他们从午夜到早上6点为公寓供暖。这意味着你每天早上6点醒来时，仿佛置身于桑拿房中！白天基本上没有供暖，所以午夜后的冬季会变得太冷。巴比肯屋村没有任何煤气管道，因此你只能通过使用电炉或电暖器来加热你的公寓——危险且昂贵。这似乎难以置信，但是，尽管屋村里所有的地暖都是电动的，但没有办法安装单独的温控器——在任何地方。 你可以在太热的时候打开窗户，在太冷的时候打开电炉，但除此之外，你只能任由一个无处不在、不可阻挡的集中供暖系统摆布，这个系统由一个遥远的、匿名的、集中的官僚机构控制，理想上是仁慈的：几乎是福利国家的一个隐喻，在那里，甚至供暖都是为所有人规划的，从摇篮到坟墓：通过共识和委员会供暖。  我在最近的一篇文章中详细讨论了这个论点；你可以在这里阅读（https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating）。

直截了当地说，巴比肯的供暖是一场噩梦，这也是为什么当富人买下这些公寓并意识到不可能调节供暖时，必须进行如此多改造的原因之一。

在我看来，住宅应该是一个任何人都可以选择最适合自己需求的热环境的地方。无论你喜欢热的还是冷的，开窗还是关窗；后现代主义的魅力在于认识到没有两个人是相同的——他们的温度偏好也是如此! 现代主义相信同质性；后现代主义不相信。

巴比肯屋村的其他问题是什么？

有一个现象，一个特别发生在塔楼上的问题，也就是我住过的地方，我称之为垂直士绅化。在高层建筑的顶层，富豪、亿万富翁、寡头购买公寓，并将其中的两到三套组合在一起。在实践中，它导致了在顶层的永久建筑工地。如果你住在一栋由巨大的钢筋混凝土制成的大楼里，你会听到一个勺子从30楼一直掉到地下室的声音。鉴于此，想象一下建筑工人整天钻孔、拆除钢筋混凝土或悬挂吊顶、重修浴室。 特别是在疫情期间，当我们都在家里工作时，那真是地狱。

据我所见，巴比肯繁荣的新居民并不满意其简陋的风格，而是想要更豪华和精致的装饰。更重要的是，尽管这些公寓在当时被认为是相当大的，但浴室被规划的很小，可能是由于那个时代的节俭精神。如今的富裕业主有着不同的品味；因此，浴室正在被改造。

例如，在疫情期间我居住的塔楼里，顶层安装了一个石材切割车间，持续了数月，这就意味着三部电梯中的一部被建筑承包商长期使用，上上下下，运送大理石板。

在我看来，这种 "垂直 "的士绅化是一种品味差异的结果。有钱人可能不喜欢这个建筑的外观，他们对60年代和70年代的粗野主义没有兴趣——这会让他们想起了社会住房，即使在这个例子中这种类比是没有必要的。 但他们对巴比肯塔楼的评价和左拉对埃菲尔铁塔的评价一样——不看它的唯一方法就是站在它的上面。由于平面布局，每个公寓都有两个或三个朝向。直到最近，它还是伦敦最高的住宅楼——41层。从顶部看去，景色令人惊叹，因此人们购买了视野并改造了一切，这让下面所有居民的生活变成了一场噩梦。

关于噪音的投诉，在高层建筑中是很极端的，而在水平向的街区中似乎是可以控制的，因为那里的房地产压力没有那么大。如果你想从顶层看风景，那是无法实现的。公寓更小更便宜。寡头们不会购买那些真的看起来像 "中产阶级 "社会住房的公寓——因为它们曾经确实如此。

你的积极经验是什么？有什么是你觉得不可思议的吗？

我告诉你一个居民的经验，噪音，邻居，等等。但是，作为一个建筑师，被设计所包围总是好的。我并不总是喜欢张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司的选择。有时候我觉得他们没有技术和手段来支持他们的抱负。然而，尽管存在这些缺点，早上醒来时看到周围都是设计意图还是很好的。

这个意图不一定是你喜欢的建筑师的意图，它只需要由一个愿景驱动。如果你是一个设计师，或者你只是关心设计的智慧，它会让你的生活变得更美好。

在巴比肯，建筑师们的混凝土构造是非常了不起的，非常符合保罗-鲁道夫的精神。尽管我并不特别欣赏保罗-鲁道夫的设计，但很明显他是一个伟大的设计师。当我在耶鲁大学建筑学院教书时——那座鲁道夫设计的令人生畏的大型混凝土建筑——从比例到工艺，它的一切都吸引着我的眼睛。很明显，这个结构首先是在一位建筑师的头脑中精心而熟练地建造的——而且是一位天才的建筑师。 正如我所说的，它不一定是你的共同愿景；它的一致性和力量足以让人眼前一亮，心生赞叹。

在巴比肯，你什么时候有家的感觉？是在你离开街道进入大堂的时候，还是在你到达并进入自己的公寓后？

虽然我喜欢那个大堂，但它肯定没有家的感觉。它更像是在车站等火车，人们不断地进进出出。另外，还有那种置身于公共空间被陌生人包围的感觉。门卫总是在值班，警惕地看守着这个区域。

但当你打开自家的门，踏进去的时候，有一种立刻到家的感觉。这几乎是一种神奇的感觉! 想象一下乘坐电梯上升120米的体验——就像你在阿尔卑斯山上爬山一样。下面的云层感觉如此之近，以至于当它们分开，露出上面的太阳时，令人叹为观止——类似于在飞机上，云层在下面，阳光从机翼上反射出来!

所有这一切都发生在你离开了洞穴般阴暗险恶的大堂和电梯的时刻之后；推开你的前门走进充满阳光的屋内。这是一种愉悦的感觉。

在那里生活了五年之后，你对整个建筑群的了解程度如何？

巴比肯屋村是因其迷宫般的布局而闻名。每次你出门，穿过公共广场，都会有人问你： "对不起，你知道怎么去..." 每个人都会永远的在迷路。这是交通分离和隔离正常街道想法的结果，街道在这里被空中人行道所取代。意思是说，这里有非常复杂的人行平台，由走廊、通道、桥梁和阳台组成，它们不符合城市的尺度，必须学习而不是遵循。

张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩完全接受了柯布西耶式的现代主义理想，即分离功能，特别是消除交通。汽车在隧道里，行人在桥梁和平台上；理论上，这是一个安全的行人天堂。此后不久，我们意识到，有时与不同的交通方式共享道路会更容易、更令人愉快，而不是有一个隔离制度，即自行车只能遇到自行车，汽车只能遇到汽车，行人只能遇到其他行人。但这是后来才有的，是后现代主义：旨在设计一个新的街景，整合不同的交通方式：自行车、行人和汽车。平台是该项目最具时代特征的元素。现代主义是关于隔离的；后现代主义是关于整合的。

那么，在一个住宅里不同活动的整合呢？

在过去的两三年里，我们学到的是，你离开家去工作，工作后回到家，然后再次离开家，去看电影，或去购物，或其他，这种想法已经崩溃了。现在，我们需要重新创造一个我们可以同时生活、工作并享受乐趣的地方，顺便说一下，这是工业革命之前正常的生活方式。

那时——在前工业时代，也就是不久前——每个办公室都是家庭办公。人们在家里工作——工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商；衬衫制造商、鞋匠、帽子制造商、裁缝、女裁缝......  他们在自己居住的同一栋楼里有一个小店，有时在不同的楼层。这就是他们在我们发明铁路之前的生活方式，我们决定我们需要去不同的地方工作。这种先入为主的想法在疫情期间受到了真正的挑战，这时白领工人——保险经纪人、医生、教师加入了工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商。这表明谁真正需要 "去工作"，谁可以 "在家里工作"。

当然，我们不应该忽视心理上的影响，这些影响正变得越来越被人理解和重视，我们作为社会人，走出去，认识其他人的需求和意义。 今天的新IT（信息技术）将不可避免地探索和挑战我们从过去继承下来的所谓 "自然 "的社区和接近模式。

然而，今天，市场力量不断地建造越来越大的办公室，世界各地的当局仍然在投资建设新的地铁线路和办公楼，系统仍坚信这是使城市盈利的最简单的方式。

在1922年，建造办公楼也许是个好主意，当时数据是集中的；现在到了2023年，只有计算机服务器是集中的，所有的数据管理都可以是远程和去空间化的（也就是说，大多数办公室工作可以在任何地方进行）。

没有人在建造人们需要的住宅。这就是矛盾之处。

巴比肯屋村是在1956年构思的，当时人们早上8点离开家去工作，下午6点回家，有些人仍然会这样做，但越来越少的人会如此。现在是发明一些不同的东西的时候了。我们需要新的空间和新的技术基础设施，让人们在生活、工作、购物和娱乐的同时，尽量减少物理位移，并尽量减少对人员、原材料、食品和货物的机械运输的需求。 巴比肯屋村是一个碳足迹的纪念碑，可能不容易进行改建以适应这一目的。 时间会告诉我们...  

2022年９月15日

Mario Carpo: It’s an idea of the fifties, built in the sixties, that came to market in the seventies. The high rises of the Barbican estate were inaugurated only a few months before Charles Jencks published „The language of postmodern architecture”. That was the tipping point. Before 1977, the Barbican was the future. In 1977 the Barbican became the past.

IT IS A HOUSING COMPLEX THAT CAN BE LOVED AND HATED AT THE SAME TIME. 

The spirit of modernism—the Frankenstein-like monster of post-war society’s techno-social imagination—was a strong proponent of the idea that individual housing should not exist. Instead, mass-produced and prefabricated apartments should serve as a template for standardised living. It was not only a pragmatic response to the conditions of a big city, pushing to build densely. It was an ideology of mass-production and economy of scale, addressed to modern men and women, supposed to be themselves standard products.

The Barbican Estate was the result of this modernist ideology: its vast scale, repetition, exposed concrete, and central heating system expressed clearly the credo of the fifties. Even though it was a relatively expensive complex addressed to the upper middle class, aesthetically and atmospherically it did not fit to its time. Starting from the late 1970s, its design was seen as the materialisation of a previous generation’s dreams. 

Today, many perceive it to be a plain structure of 2000 affordable homes, they photograph, and study it as such, but nothing could be further from the truth. It is not and never was a social housing complex.

WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE MISCONCEPTION?

People think that brutalism was the style of social housing because social housing was built in concrete, which is why the Barbican is so popular among my students. But it’s only a nostalgia for the time when the state actually built social housing.  But then, in 1979, Margaret Thatcher was elected and ushered in her ‘Right to Buy’ project - a policy that effectively eliminated social housing.

If you compare the Barbican Estate with other British social housing, evidently it was never meant to be one. It was more expensive from the start, and it had a more sophisticated design intention. It was not pure “techy” brutalism, so to speak, in Renyer Banham’s original sense of the term; and it was no longer international modernism.  It is wacky and wonky; “artsy” in a sense. There was an ambition of ornamentation, decoration, it expressed a character.

…AND YOU WANTED TO GO BEYOND MERE OBSERVATION AND EXPLORE THE MODERNIST IDEOLOGY WITH YOUR SENSES AND EXPERIENCES, BY LIVING THERE FOR A FEW YEARS…

Yes, I wanted to try it. I am a tenant for life, so to speak--I don’t own real estate--and I have been fortunate enough to live, briefly, in some memorable residences. When I retire and look back on all my memories, I may put them all in a book. 

As far as I am concerned, the Barbican Estate embodies the modernist ideology through its technical choices, rather than in its often-peculiar design.

The heating system, for a start.  There is underfloor heating everywhere--and electric to boot, an unusual choice at the time, and at that scale.  Chamberlain, Powell and Bon had this forward-thinking notion that heating should be ubiquitous, isotropic, homogenous, and invisible - underfloor - like magic! It would ensure permanent thermal comfort without any intervention from the tenants, without the residents even ever knowing where the heat came from. This was an ideal of modernism: a controllable nature. Enter any apartment and you’d always find a perfect temperature--which for Le Corbusier was meant to be 18 Celsius for all and forever.  But then reality hit them hard; managing this type of system proved to be too costly, so estate management opted for a lower “background” temperature of 15 C instead – which isn’t warm enough. Moreover, the estate purchases electricity in bulk on the energy market when prices are low, and they heat their apartments from midnight to 6 a.m. This means that you wake up every day at 6 a.m., stepping into what feels like a sauna! And there is basically no heating during the day, so after 12 a.m. it starts to be too cold in winter. There are no gas pipes anywhere at the  Barbican, therefore the only way to heat your apartment is an electric stove or space heater—dangerous and expensive. This seems hard to believe, but, although all underfloor heating in the estate is electric, there is no way to install a single thermostat--anywhere.  You may open the windows when it’s too hot, and turn your electric stove on when it’s too cold, but otherwise you are left at the mercy of a ubiquitous, unstoppable system of centralised  heating which is controlled by a remote, anonymous, centralised bureaucracy, ideally benevolent: almost a metaphor of the welfare state, where even heating is planned for all, from cradle to grave: heating by consensus and by committee.   I discussed this argument at length in a recent article; you may read it here (https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating) 

To put it bluntly, the heating in the Barbican is a nightmare and that is one of the reasons why so much retrofitting has to be done when wealthy people buy these apartments and realise that it is not possible to adjust the heating. 

In my opinion, a house should be a place where anyone can choose the thermal environment that best suits their needs. Whether you prefer it hot or cold, open windows or closed; the beauty of postmodernism is recognising that no two people are alike - and neither are their temperature preferences! Modernism believed in homogeneity; postmodernism didn’t. 

WHAT ARE THE OTHER PROBLEMS OF THE BARBICAN ESTATE?

There is a phenomenon, a problem occurring particularly in the towers, which is incidentally where I lived, which I would call vertical gentrification. At the top of the high rises the tycoons, the billionaires, the oligarchs buy apartments, and combine two or three of them together. In practice, it leads to a permanent building site on the top floors. If you live in a building made of massive, reinforced concrete, you hear a spoon dropped on the 30th floor all the way down to the basement. Given that, think of builders drilling all day long, demolishing reinforced concrete or hanging suspended ceilings, remaking bathrooms.  During the pandemic in particular, when we were all working from home, it was hell.  

From what I have seen, the new prosperous residents of the Barbican are not pleased with its spartan style, wanting instead more luxurious and polished finishes. What’s more, even though the apartments were considered quite large in their time, they were planned with tiny bathrooms, likely due to the era’s spirit of frugality. Today’s affluent owners have different tastes; so bathrooms are being retrofitted.  

For instance, in the tower where I lived during the pandemic, there was a kind of stone cutting shop installed on the top floors, for months on end, which consequently meant that one out of the three elevators was permanently used by the builders, going up and down, delivering slabs of marble. 

In my opinion, this “vertical” gentrification is a result of a discrepancy of taste. The rich probably don’t like how the building looks, and they have no interest in brutalism of the 60s and 70s--which probably reminds them of social housing, even if the parallel is unwarranted in this instance.  But they say the same of the Barbican towers as Zola said of the Eiffel Tower - the only way not to see it is to be on top of it. Due to the layout of the plan, each apartment has two or three aspects. It was until recently the tallest residential building in London - 41 floors. The view from the top is stunning, so the people buy the view and remake everything, which turns the life of all the residents below into a nightmare.

The complaints about noise, which is extreme in the high rises, seem to be manageable in the horizontal blocks, because the pressure of real estate there is not as strong. If you’re looking for a view from the top, you don’t have it. The apartments are smaller, cheaper. The oligarchs don’t buy the flats that really look like “middle class” social housing--which they were. 

WHAT WERE YOUR POSITIVE EXPERIENCES? IS THERE SOMETHING THAT YOU FOUND FANTASTIC?

I told you the experience of a resident, noise, neighbours, etc. But, as an architect it is always good to be surrounded by design. I don’t always like the choices of Chamberlin, Powell and Bon. At times it seems to me that they didn’t have the technology and the means to sustain their ambitions. However, in spite of these shortcomings, it is good to see a design intention all around you, when you wake up in the morning. 

It doesn’t have to be the intention of an architect you like; it just needs to be driven by a vision. If you are a designer, or if you simply care about design intelligence, it is something that makes your life better.  

In Barbican, the architects’ concrete tectonics are remarkable, very much in the spirit of Paul Rudolph. Even though I don’t particularly appreciate Paul Rudolph’s designs, it’s evident he was a great designer. When I taught at the Yale School of Architecture - an intimidatingly large concrete building by Rudolph - everything about it captivated my eyes, from its proportions to its craftsmanship. It’s clear that this structure has been carefully and skillfully built, first and foremost, in the mind of an architect--and an architect of genius.  As I said, it doesn’t have to be a vision you share; its consistency and strength is enough to please one’s eyes and mind. 

WHEN DO YOU FEEL AT HOME IN THE BARBICAN? IS IT WHEN YOU STEP OFF THE STREET AND INTO THE LOBBY, OR LATER WHEN YOU ARRIVE TO AND ENTER YOUR OWN APARTMENT? 

Although I liked the lobby, it certainly didn’t feel like home. It felt more like waiting for a train at the station with people constantly coming and going.  plus, there’s still that feeling of being in a public space surrounded by strangers. The doorman was always on duty, vigilantly keeping watch over the area.

But when you open your door and step inside, there’s a feeling of being right at home. It almost feels like magic! Imagine the experience of taking an elevator 120 meters up – it’s just as if you were climbing a mountain in the Alps. The clouds below feel so close that when they part to reveal the sun above, it is breathtaking - similar to being on an aeroplane with clouds beneath and sunshine reflecting off its wings! 

All this comes after leaving the cavernous and almost chthonian, sinister darkness of the lobbies and elevators behind you; pushing through your front door leads into full sunlight. That was a pleasure.

AFTER FIVE YEARS OF LIVING THERE, HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE WHOLE COMPLEX? 

The Barbican is famously labyrinthine. Every time you go out and cross the public plaza, someone will ask you: „excuse me, do you know how to get to…” Everyone is permanently lost. It is the result of the idea of a separation of traffics and the segregation of normal streets--which are replaced here by aerial pedestrian walkways. Meaning, there is the very intricate pedestrian platform, made of corridors, passageways, bridges, and balconies that are not at the scale of the city and must be learnt and not followed. 

Chamberlain, Powell and Bon fully embraced the Corbusian modernist ideals of separating functions, and in particular, removing traffic. Cars are in tunnels and pedestrians are on bridges and platforms; in theory, a safe pedestrian paradise. Shortly thereafter we realised that sometimes it is easier and more pleasant to share the road with different traffics, rather than having an apartheid system whereby bicycles only meet bicycles, cars only cars and pedestrians, only other pedestrians. But this came a little later, with postmodernism: the idea to design a new streetscape meant to integrate different traffics: bicycles, pedestrian and cars. The platform is the element that dates the project the most. Modernism was about segregation; postmodernism has been about integration.  

WHAT ABOUT INTEGRATION OF DIVERSE ACTIVITIES IN A HOUSE?

What we have learnt in the last two or three years is that the idea that you leave home to go to work and you come back home after you have been working and then you leave home, again, to go out to the movies, or go shopping, or whatever, has fallen apart. Now we need to reinvent a place where we can live and work and have fun at the same time, which by the way was the normal way of living before the industrial revolution.  

Back then--in the pre-industrial age, which was not long ago--every office was a home office. People worked at home - artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers; shirtmakers, shoemakers, hatmakers, tailors, seamstresses...  They had a little shop in the same building where they lived, sometimes on different floors. That’s the way they lived before we invented the railway and we decided that we needed to go and work in a different place. This preconceived idea has been truly challenged during the pandemic, when artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers were joined by white collar workers--insurance brokers, doctors, teachers. It showed who really needed to “go to work” and who could “work from home”.

Of course, we shouldn’t neglect the psychological effects, which are becoming more understood and consequential, the need and meaning for us as social beings, to go out, to meet other people.  Today’s new IT (information technology) will inevitably probe and challenge the supposedly “natural” models of community and proximity we have inherited from the past.  

Yet, today, market forces keep building bigger and bigger offices, authorities around the world are still investing in building new metro and subway lines and new office buildings, the system remains convinced that it is the easiest way to make cities profitable. It was perhaps a good idea to build office buildings in 1922, when data was centralised; now in 2023, only the computer server is centralised, all data management can be remote and despatialised (i.e., most office work can happen anywhere).

NOBODY IS BUILDING THE HOUSES PEOPLE NEED. THAT’S THE PARADOX. 

The Barbican was conceived in 1956 when people left home at 8 a.m. to go to work. They came back home at 6 p.m. and some people will still do that, but fewer and fewer people will. It’s time to invent something different. We need new spaces, and new technical infrastructure’s that will allow people to live, work, shop and have fun with minimal physical displacement, and minimising the need for the mechanical transportation of people, raw materials, food, and goods.  The Barbican, which is a monument to carbon footprint, may not be easy to retrofit for that purpose.  Time will tell...  

15.09.2022

马里奥-卡波： 这是一个50年代的想法，在60年代建造，在70年代进入市场。巴比肯住宅区的高层建筑在查尔斯-詹克斯（Charles Jencks）发表 《后现代建筑的语言》前几个月才开始启用。那是一个转折点。在1977年之前，巴比肯是未来。1977年，巴比肯成为了过去。

它是一个让人可以既爱又恨的住宅综合体。

现代主义的精神——战后社会的技术社会想象中弗兰肯斯坦般的怪物——坚定地支持独立住宅不应存在的观念。相反，大规模生产和预制的公寓应该作为标准化生活的模板。这不仅是对大城市条件的务实回应，推动了建筑的密集化。这是一种大规模生产和规模经济的意识形态，针对的是现代男女，他们被假定为标准化的产品。

巴比肯屋村是这种现代主义意识形态的结果：其巨大的规模、重复、裸露的混凝土和中央供暖系统明确表达了50年代的信条。尽管它是一个相对昂贵的建筑群，针对中上层阶级，但从美学和氛围上来说，它并不适合于它的时代。从70年代末开始，它的设计被视为上一代人梦想的具体化。

今天，许多人认为它是一个由2000套经济适用房组成的普通构筑物，他们拍摄并研究它，但实际情况与此相去甚远。它从未是一个社会住房综合体，也永远不是。

这种误解的根源是什么？

人们认为粗野主义是社会住房的风格，因为社会住房是用混凝土建造的，这就是为什么巴比肯在我的学生中如此受欢迎。但这只是对国家实际上建造社会住房时代的怀旧。但后来在1979年，玛格丽特-撒切尔当选，并迎来了她的 "购买权 "项目——这项政策实际上消除了社会住房。

如果你将巴比肯屋村与其他英国社会住房进行比较，显然它从来就不是为了成为一个社会住房。它从一开始就更为昂贵，而且具有更复杂的设计意图。它不是纯粹的 "技术性 "粗野主义，可以说是雷尼尔-班纳姆最初意义上的粗野主义；它也不再是国际现代主义。 它是古怪的，不稳定的；在某种意义上是 "艺术的"。它具有修饰，装饰的野心，它表达了一种性格。

...而你想超越单纯的观察，用你的感官和经验来探索现代主义的意识形态，在那里生活几年...

是的，我想试试。我是个终身租户，可以这么说——我不拥有房地产——我有幸在一些令人难忘的住所中短暂的居住过。当我退休并回顾我所有的记忆时，我可能会把它们都写进一本书。

在我看来，巴比肯屋村通过其技术选择，而不是其通常特别的设计，体现了现代主义的思想。

首先是供暖系统。 巴比肯住宅区使用的是通铺的电地暖，这在当时以及那样的规模下是一种不寻常的选择。张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司有一个具有前瞻性的概念，即供暖应该是无处不在的、各向同性的、均匀的和无形的——地板下的——就像魔术一样！这将确保恒温舒适，而不需要在地面上留下痕迹，也不需要住户的任何干预，甚至他们都不知道热量从何而来。这是现代主义的一个理想：一个可控制的自然。进入任何一间公寓，你都能感受到完美的温度——对勒-柯布西耶来说，这个温度应该是18摄氏度，永远适用于所有人。 但是，现实给了他们沉重的打击；管理这种类型的系统被证明太昂贵了，所以屋村管理部门选择了一个较低的 "背景 "温度，即15摄氏度——这并不够温暖。此外，当价格低的时候，屋村在能源市场上大量购买电力，他们从午夜到早上6点为公寓供暖。这意味着你每天早上6点醒来时，仿佛置身于桑拿房中！白天基本上没有供暖，所以午夜后的冬季会变得太冷。巴比肯屋村没有任何煤气管道，因此你只能通过使用电炉或电暖器来加热你的公寓——危险且昂贵。这似乎难以置信，但是，尽管屋村里所有的地暖都是电动的，但没有办法安装单独的温控器——在任何地方。 你可以在太热的时候打开窗户，在太冷的时候打开电炉，但除此之外，你只能任由一个无处不在、不可阻挡的集中供暖系统摆布，这个系统由一个遥远的、匿名的、集中的官僚机构控制，理想上是仁慈的：几乎是福利国家的一个隐喻，在那里，甚至供暖都是为所有人规划的，从摇篮到坟墓：通过共识和委员会供暖。  我在最近的一篇文章中详细讨论了这个论点；你可以在这里阅读（https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating）。

直截了当地说，巴比肯的供暖是一场噩梦，这也是为什么当富人买下这些公寓并意识到不可能调节供暖时，必须进行如此多改造的原因之一。

在我看来，住宅应该是一个任何人都可以选择最适合自己需求的热环境的地方。无论你喜欢热的还是冷的，开窗还是关窗；后现代主义的魅力在于认识到没有两个人是相同的——他们的温度偏好也是如此! 现代主义相信同质性；后现代主义不相信。

巴比肯屋村的其他问题是什么？

有一个现象，一个特别发生在塔楼上的问题，也就是我住过的地方，我称之为垂直士绅化。在高层建筑的顶层，富豪、亿万富翁、寡头购买公寓，并将其中的两到三套组合在一起。在实践中，它导致了在顶层的永久建筑工地。如果你住在一栋由巨大的钢筋混凝土制成的大楼里，你会听到一个勺子从30楼一直掉到地下室的声音。鉴于此，想象一下建筑工人整天钻孔、拆除钢筋混凝土或悬挂吊顶、重修浴室。 特别是在疫情期间，当我们都在家里工作时，那真是地狱。

据我所见，巴比肯繁荣的新居民并不满意其简陋的风格，而是想要更豪华和精致的装饰。更重要的是，尽管这些公寓在当时被认为是相当大的，但浴室被规划的很小，可能是由于那个时代的节俭精神。如今的富裕业主有着不同的品味；因此，浴室正在被改造。

例如，在疫情期间我居住的塔楼里，顶层安装了一个石材切割车间，持续了数月，这就意味着三部电梯中的一部被建筑承包商长期使用，上上下下，运送大理石板。

在我看来，这种 "垂直 "的士绅化是一种品味差异的结果。有钱人可能不喜欢这个建筑的外观，他们对60年代和70年代的粗野主义没有兴趣——这会让他们想起了社会住房，即使在这个例子中这种类比是没有必要的。 但他们对巴比肯塔楼的评价和左拉对埃菲尔铁塔的评价一样——不看它的唯一方法就是站在它的上面。由于平面布局，每个公寓都有两个或三个朝向。直到最近，它还是伦敦最高的住宅楼——41层。从顶部看去，景色令人惊叹，因此人们购买了视野并改造了一切，这让下面所有居民的生活变成了一场噩梦。

关于噪音的投诉，在高层建筑中是很极端的，而在水平向的街区中似乎是可以控制的，因为那里的房地产压力没有那么大。如果你想从顶层看风景，那是无法实现的。公寓更小更便宜。寡头们不会购买那些真的看起来像 "中产阶级 "社会住房的公寓——因为它们曾经确实如此。

你的积极经验是什么？有什么是你觉得不可思议的吗？

我告诉你一个居民的经验，噪音，邻居，等等。但是，作为一个建筑师，被设计所包围总是好的。我并不总是喜欢张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司的选择。有时候我觉得他们没有技术和手段来支持他们的抱负。然而，尽管存在这些缺点，早上醒来时看到周围都是设计意图还是很好的。

这个意图不一定是你喜欢的建筑师的意图，它只需要由一个愿景驱动。如果你是一个设计师，或者你只是关心设计的智慧，它会让你的生活变得更美好。

在巴比肯，建筑师们的混凝土构造是非常了不起的，非常符合保罗-鲁道夫的精神。尽管我并不特别欣赏保罗-鲁道夫的设计，但很明显他是一个伟大的设计师。当我在耶鲁大学建筑学院教书时——那座鲁道夫设计的令人生畏的大型混凝土建筑——从比例到工艺，它的一切都吸引着我的眼睛。很明显，这个结构首先是在一位建筑师的头脑中精心而熟练地建造的——而且是一位天才的建筑师。 正如我所说的，它不一定是你的共同愿景；它的一致性和力量足以让人眼前一亮，心生赞叹。

在巴比肯，你什么时候有家的感觉？是在你离开街道进入大堂的时候，还是在你到达并进入自己的公寓后？

虽然我喜欢那个大堂，但它肯定没有家的感觉。它更像是在车站等火车，人们不断地进进出出。另外，还有那种置身于公共空间被陌生人包围的感觉。门卫总是在值班，警惕地看守着这个区域。

但当你打开自家的门，踏进去的时候，有一种立刻到家的感觉。这几乎是一种神奇的感觉! 想象一下乘坐电梯上升120米的体验——就像你在阿尔卑斯山上爬山一样。下面的云层感觉如此之近，以至于当它们分开，露出上面的太阳时，令人叹为观止——类似于在飞机上，云层在下面，阳光从机翼上反射出来!

所有这一切都发生在你离开了洞穴般阴暗险恶的大堂和电梯的时刻之后；推开你的前门走进充满阳光的屋内。这是一种愉悦的感觉。

在那里生活了五年之后，你对整个建筑群的了解程度如何？

巴比肯屋村是因其迷宫般的布局而闻名。每次你出门，穿过公共广场，都会有人问你： "对不起，你知道怎么去..." 每个人都会永远的在迷路。这是交通分离和隔离正常街道想法的结果，街道在这里被空中人行道所取代。意思是说，这里有非常复杂的人行平台，由走廊、通道、桥梁和阳台组成，它们不符合城市的尺度，必须学习而不是遵循。

张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩完全接受了柯布西耶式的现代主义理想，即分离功能，特别是消除交通。汽车在隧道里，行人在桥梁和平台上；理论上，这是一个安全的行人天堂。此后不久，我们意识到，有时与不同的交通方式共享道路会更容易、更令人愉快，而不是有一个隔离制度，即自行车只能遇到自行车，汽车只能遇到汽车，行人只能遇到其他行人。但这是后来才有的，是后现代主义：旨在设计一个新的街景，整合不同的交通方式：自行车、行人和汽车。平台是该项目最具时代特征的元素。现代主义是关于隔离的；后现代主义是关于整合的。

那么，在一个住宅里不同活动的整合呢？

在过去的两三年里，我们学到的是，你离开家去工作，工作后回到家，然后再次离开家，去看电影，或去购物，或其他，这种想法已经崩溃了。现在，我们需要重新创造一个我们可以同时生活、工作并享受乐趣的地方，顺便说一下，这是工业革命之前正常的生活方式。

那时——在前工业时代，也就是不久前——每个办公室都是家庭办公。人们在家里工作——工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商；衬衫制造商、鞋匠、帽子制造商、裁缝、女裁缝......  他们在自己居住的同一栋楼里有一个小店，有时在不同的楼层。这就是他们在我们发明铁路之前的生活方式，我们决定我们需要去不同的地方工作。这种先入为主的想法在疫情期间受到了真正的挑战，这时白领工人——保险经纪人、医生、教师加入了工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商。这表明谁真正需要 "去工作"，谁可以 "在家里工作"。

当然，我们不应该忽视心理上的影响，这些影响正变得越来越被人理解和重视，我们作为社会人，走出去，认识其他人的需求和意义。 今天的新IT（信息技术）将不可避免地探索和挑战我们从过去继承下来的所谓 "自然 "的社区和接近模式。

然而，今天，市场力量不断地建造越来越大的办公室，世界各地的当局仍然在投资建设新的地铁线路和办公楼，系统仍坚信这是使城市盈利的最简单的方式。

在1922年，建造办公楼也许是个好主意，当时数据是集中的；现在到了2023年，只有计算机服务器是集中的，所有的数据管理都可以是远程和去空间化的（也就是说，大多数办公室工作可以在任何地方进行）。

没有人在建造人们需要的住宅。这就是矛盾之处。

巴比肯屋村是在1956年构思的，当时人们早上8点离开家去工作，下午6点回家，有些人仍然会这样做，但越来越少的人会如此。现在是发明一些不同的东西的时候了。我们需要新的空间和新的技术基础设施，让人们在生活、工作、购物和娱乐的同时，尽量减少物理位移，并尽量减少对人员、原材料、食品和货物的机械运输的需求。 巴比肯屋村是一个碳足迹的纪念碑，可能不容易进行改建以适应这一目的。 时间会告诉我们...  

2022年９月15日

Mario Carpo: It’s an idea of the fifties, built in the sixties, that came to market in the seventies. The high rises of the Barbican estate were inaugurated only a few months before Charles Jencks published „The language of postmodern architecture”. That was the tipping point. Before 1977, the Barbican was the future. In 1977 the Barbican became the past.

IT IS A HOUSING COMPLEX THAT CAN BE LOVED AND HATED AT THE SAME TIME. 

The spirit of modernism—the Frankenstein-like monster of post-war society’s techno-social imagination—was a strong proponent of the idea that individual housing should not exist. Instead, mass-produced and prefabricated apartments should serve as a template for standardised living. It was not only a pragmatic response to the conditions of a big city, pushing to build densely. It was an ideology of mass-production and economy of scale, addressed to modern men and women, supposed to be themselves standard products.

The Barbican Estate was the result of this modernist ideology: its vast scale, repetition, exposed concrete, and central heating system expressed clearly the credo of the fifties. Even though it was a relatively expensive complex addressed to the upper middle class, aesthetically and atmospherically it did not fit to its time. Starting from the late 1970s, its design was seen as the materialisation of a previous generation’s dreams. 

Today, many perceive it to be a plain structure of 2000 affordable homes, they photograph, and study it as such, but nothing could be further from the truth. It is not and never was a social housing complex.

WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE MISCONCEPTION?

People think that brutalism was the style of social housing because social housing was built in concrete, which is why the Barbican is so popular among my students. But it’s only a nostalgia for the time when the state actually built social housing.  But then, in 1979, Margaret Thatcher was elected and ushered in her ‘Right to Buy’ project - a policy that effectively eliminated social housing.

If you compare the Barbican Estate with other British social housing, evidently it was never meant to be one. It was more expensive from the start, and it had a more sophisticated design intention. It was not pure “techy” brutalism, so to speak, in Renyer Banham’s original sense of the term; and it was no longer international modernism.  It is wacky and wonky; “artsy” in a sense. There was an ambition of ornamentation, decoration, it expressed a character.

…AND YOU WANTED TO GO BEYOND MERE OBSERVATION AND EXPLORE THE MODERNIST IDEOLOGY WITH YOUR SENSES AND EXPERIENCES, BY LIVING THERE FOR A FEW YEARS…

Yes, I wanted to try it. I am a tenant for life, so to speak--I don’t own real estate--and I have been fortunate enough to live, briefly, in some memorable residences. When I retire and look back on all my memories, I may put them all in a book. 

As far as I am concerned, the Barbican Estate embodies the modernist ideology through its technical choices, rather than in its often-peculiar design.

The heating system, for a start.  There is underfloor heating everywhere--and electric to boot, an unusual choice at the time, and at that scale.  Chamberlain, Powell and Bon had this forward-thinking notion that heating should be ubiquitous, isotropic, homogenous, and invisible - underfloor - like magic! It would ensure permanent thermal comfort without any intervention from the tenants, without the residents even ever knowing where the heat came from. This was an ideal of modernism: a controllable nature. Enter any apartment and you’d always find a perfect temperature--which for Le Corbusier was meant to be 18 Celsius for all and forever.  But then reality hit them hard; managing this type of system proved to be too costly, so estate management opted for a lower “background” temperature of 15 C instead – which isn’t warm enough. Moreover, the estate purchases electricity in bulk on the energy market when prices are low, and they heat their apartments from midnight to 6 a.m. This means that you wake up every day at 6 a.m., stepping into what feels like a sauna! And there is basically no heating during the day, so after 12 a.m. it starts to be too cold in winter. There are no gas pipes anywhere at the  Barbican, therefore the only way to heat your apartment is an electric stove or space heater—dangerous and expensive. This seems hard to believe, but, although all underfloor heating in the estate is electric, there is no way to install a single thermostat--anywhere.  You may open the windows when it’s too hot, and turn your electric stove on when it’s too cold, but otherwise you are left at the mercy of a ubiquitous, unstoppable system of centralised  heating which is controlled by a remote, anonymous, centralised bureaucracy, ideally benevolent: almost a metaphor of the welfare state, where even heating is planned for all, from cradle to grave: heating by consensus and by committee.   I discussed this argument at length in a recent article; you may read it here (https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating) 

To put it bluntly, the heating in the Barbican is a nightmare and that is one of the reasons why so much retrofitting has to be done when wealthy people buy these apartments and realise that it is not possible to adjust the heating. 

In my opinion, a house should be a place where anyone can choose the thermal environment that best suits their needs. Whether you prefer it hot or cold, open windows or closed; the beauty of postmodernism is recognising that no two people are alike - and neither are their temperature preferences! Modernism believed in homogeneity; postmodernism didn’t. 

WHAT ARE THE OTHER PROBLEMS OF THE BARBICAN ESTATE?

There is a phenomenon, a problem occurring particularly in the towers, which is incidentally where I lived, which I would call vertical gentrification. At the top of the high rises the tycoons, the billionaires, the oligarchs buy apartments, and combine two or three of them together. In practice, it leads to a permanent building site on the top floors. If you live in a building made of massive, reinforced concrete, you hear a spoon dropped on the 30th floor all the way down to the basement. Given that, think of builders drilling all day long, demolishing reinforced concrete or hanging suspended ceilings, remaking bathrooms.  During the pandemic in particular, when we were all working from home, it was hell.  

From what I have seen, the new prosperous residents of the Barbican are not pleased with its spartan style, wanting instead more luxurious and polished finishes. What’s more, even though the apartments were considered quite large in their time, they were planned with tiny bathrooms, likely due to the era’s spirit of frugality. Today’s affluent owners have different tastes; so bathrooms are being retrofitted.  

For instance, in the tower where I lived during the pandemic, there was a kind of stone cutting shop installed on the top floors, for months on end, which consequently meant that one out of the three elevators was permanently used by the builders, going up and down, delivering slabs of marble. 

In my opinion, this “vertical” gentrification is a result of a discrepancy of taste. The rich probably don’t like how the building looks, and they have no interest in brutalism of the 60s and 70s--which probably reminds them of social housing, even if the parallel is unwarranted in this instance.  But they say the same of the Barbican towers as Zola said of the Eiffel Tower - the only way not to see it is to be on top of it. Due to the layout of the plan, each apartment has two or three aspects. It was until recently the tallest residential building in London - 41 floors. The view from the top is stunning, so the people buy the view and remake everything, which turns the life of all the residents below into a nightmare.

The complaints about noise, which is extreme in the high rises, seem to be manageable in the horizontal blocks, because the pressure of real estate there is not as strong. If you’re looking for a view from the top, you don’t have it. The apartments are smaller, cheaper. The oligarchs don’t buy the flats that really look like “middle class” social housing--which they were. 

WHAT WERE YOUR POSITIVE EXPERIENCES? IS THERE SOMETHING THAT YOU FOUND FANTASTIC?

I told you the experience of a resident, noise, neighbours, etc. But, as an architect it is always good to be surrounded by design. I don’t always like the choices of Chamberlin, Powell and Bon. At times it seems to me that they didn’t have the technology and the means to sustain their ambitions. However, in spite of these shortcomings, it is good to see a design intention all around you, when you wake up in the morning. 

It doesn’t have to be the intention of an architect you like; it just needs to be driven by a vision. If you are a designer, or if you simply care about design intelligence, it is something that makes your life better.  

In Barbican, the architects’ concrete tectonics are remarkable, very much in the spirit of Paul Rudolph. Even though I don’t particularly appreciate Paul Rudolph’s designs, it’s evident he was a great designer. When I taught at the Yale School of Architecture - an intimidatingly large concrete building by Rudolph - everything about it captivated my eyes, from its proportions to its craftsmanship. It’s clear that this structure has been carefully and skillfully built, first and foremost, in the mind of an architect--and an architect of genius.  As I said, it doesn’t have to be a vision you share; its consistency and strength is enough to please one’s eyes and mind. 

WHEN DO YOU FEEL AT HOME IN THE BARBICAN? IS IT WHEN YOU STEP OFF THE STREET AND INTO THE LOBBY, OR LATER WHEN YOU ARRIVE TO AND ENTER YOUR OWN APARTMENT? 

Although I liked the lobby, it certainly didn’t feel like home. It felt more like waiting for a train at the station with people constantly coming and going.  plus, there’s still that feeling of being in a public space surrounded by strangers. The doorman was always on duty, vigilantly keeping watch over the area.

But when you open your door and step inside, there’s a feeling of being right at home. It almost feels like magic! Imagine the experience of taking an elevator 120 meters up – it’s just as if you were climbing a mountain in the Alps. The clouds below feel so close that when they part to reveal the sun above, it is breathtaking - similar to being on an aeroplane with clouds beneath and sunshine reflecting off its wings! 

All this comes after leaving the cavernous and almost chthonian, sinister darkness of the lobbies and elevators behind you; pushing through your front door leads into full sunlight. That was a pleasure.

AFTER FIVE YEARS OF LIVING THERE, HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE WHOLE COMPLEX? 

The Barbican is famously labyrinthine. Every time you go out and cross the public plaza, someone will ask you: „excuse me, do you know how to get to…” Everyone is permanently lost. It is the result of the idea of a separation of traffics and the segregation of normal streets--which are replaced here by aerial pedestrian walkways. Meaning, there is the very intricate pedestrian platform, made of corridors, passageways, bridges, and balconies that are not at the scale of the city and must be learnt and not followed. 

Chamberlain, Powell and Bon fully embraced the Corbusian modernist ideals of separating functions, and in particular, removing traffic. Cars are in tunnels and pedestrians are on bridges and platforms; in theory, a safe pedestrian paradise. Shortly thereafter we realised that sometimes it is easier and more pleasant to share the road with different traffics, rather than having an apartheid system whereby bicycles only meet bicycles, cars only cars and pedestrians, only other pedestrians. But this came a little later, with postmodernism: the idea to design a new streetscape meant to integrate different traffics: bicycles, pedestrian and cars. The platform is the element that dates the project the most. Modernism was about segregation; postmodernism has been about integration.  

WHAT ABOUT INTEGRATION OF DIVERSE ACTIVITIES IN A HOUSE?

What we have learnt in the last two or three years is that the idea that you leave home to go to work and you come back home after you have been working and then you leave home, again, to go out to the movies, or go shopping, or whatever, has fallen apart. Now we need to reinvent a place where we can live and work and have fun at the same time, which by the way was the normal way of living before the industrial revolution.  

Back then--in the pre-industrial age, which was not long ago--every office was a home office. People worked at home - artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers; shirtmakers, shoemakers, hatmakers, tailors, seamstresses...  They had a little shop in the same building where they lived, sometimes on different floors. That’s the way they lived before we invented the railway and we decided that we needed to go and work in a different place. This preconceived idea has been truly challenged during the pandemic, when artisans, carpenters, cabinet makers were joined by white collar workers--insurance brokers, doctors, teachers. It showed who really needed to “go to work” and who could “work from home”.

Of course, we shouldn’t neglect the psychological effects, which are becoming more understood and consequential, the need and meaning for us as social beings, to go out, to meet other people.  Today’s new IT (information technology) will inevitably probe and challenge the supposedly “natural” models of community and proximity we have inherited from the past.  

Yet, today, market forces keep building bigger and bigger offices, authorities around the world are still investing in building new metro and subway lines and new office buildings, the system remains convinced that it is the easiest way to make cities profitable. It was perhaps a good idea to build office buildings in 1922, when data was centralised; now in 2023, only the computer server is centralised, all data management can be remote and despatialised (i.e., most office work can happen anywhere).

NOBODY IS BUILDING THE HOUSES PEOPLE NEED. THAT’S THE PARADOX. 

The Barbican was conceived in 1956 when people left home at 8 a.m. to go to work. They came back home at 6 p.m. and some people will still do that, but fewer and fewer people will. It’s time to invent something different. We need new spaces, and new technical infrastructure’s that will allow people to live, work, shop and have fun with minimal physical displacement, and minimising the need for the mechanical transportation of people, raw materials, food, and goods.  The Barbican, which is a monument to carbon footprint, may not be easy to retrofit for that purpose.  Time will tell...  

15.09.2022

马里奥-卡波： 这是一个50年代的想法，在60年代建造，在70年代进入市场。巴比肯住宅区的高层建筑在查尔斯-詹克斯（Charles Jencks）发表 《后现代建筑的语言》前几个月才开始启用。那是一个转折点。在1977年之前，巴比肯是未来。1977年，巴比肯成为了过去。

它是一个让人可以既爱又恨的住宅综合体。

现代主义的精神——战后社会的技术社会想象中弗兰肯斯坦般的怪物——坚定地支持独立住宅不应存在的观念。相反，大规模生产和预制的公寓应该作为标准化生活的模板。这不仅是对大城市条件的务实回应，推动了建筑的密集化。这是一种大规模生产和规模经济的意识形态，针对的是现代男女，他们被假定为标准化的产品。

巴比肯屋村是这种现代主义意识形态的结果：其巨大的规模、重复、裸露的混凝土和中央供暖系统明确表达了50年代的信条。尽管它是一个相对昂贵的建筑群，针对中上层阶级，但从美学和氛围上来说，它并不适合于它的时代。从70年代末开始，它的设计被视为上一代人梦想的具体化。

今天，许多人认为它是一个由2000套经济适用房组成的普通构筑物，他们拍摄并研究它，但实际情况与此相去甚远。它从未是一个社会住房综合体，也永远不是。

这种误解的根源是什么？

人们认为粗野主义是社会住房的风格，因为社会住房是用混凝土建造的，这就是为什么巴比肯在我的学生中如此受欢迎。但这只是对国家实际上建造社会住房时代的怀旧。但后来在1979年，玛格丽特-撒切尔当选，并迎来了她的 "购买权 "项目——这项政策实际上消除了社会住房。

如果你将巴比肯屋村与其他英国社会住房进行比较，显然它从来就不是为了成为一个社会住房。它从一开始就更为昂贵，而且具有更复杂的设计意图。它不是纯粹的 "技术性 "粗野主义，可以说是雷尼尔-班纳姆最初意义上的粗野主义；它也不再是国际现代主义。 它是古怪的，不稳定的；在某种意义上是 "艺术的"。它具有修饰，装饰的野心，它表达了一种性格。

...而你想超越单纯的观察，用你的感官和经验来探索现代主义的意识形态，在那里生活几年...

是的，我想试试。我是个终身租户，可以这么说——我不拥有房地产——我有幸在一些令人难忘的住所中短暂的居住过。当我退休并回顾我所有的记忆时，我可能会把它们都写进一本书。

在我看来，巴比肯屋村通过其技术选择，而不是其通常特别的设计，体现了现代主义的思想。

首先是供暖系统。 巴比肯住宅区使用的是通铺的电地暖，这在当时以及那样的规模下是一种不寻常的选择。张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司有一个具有前瞻性的概念，即供暖应该是无处不在的、各向同性的、均匀的和无形的——地板下的——就像魔术一样！这将确保恒温舒适，而不需要在地面上留下痕迹，也不需要住户的任何干预，甚至他们都不知道热量从何而来。这是现代主义的一个理想：一个可控制的自然。进入任何一间公寓，你都能感受到完美的温度——对勒-柯布西耶来说，这个温度应该是18摄氏度，永远适用于所有人。 但是，现实给了他们沉重的打击；管理这种类型的系统被证明太昂贵了，所以屋村管理部门选择了一个较低的 "背景 "温度，即15摄氏度——这并不够温暖。此外，当价格低的时候，屋村在能源市场上大量购买电力，他们从午夜到早上6点为公寓供暖。这意味着你每天早上6点醒来时，仿佛置身于桑拿房中！白天基本上没有供暖，所以午夜后的冬季会变得太冷。巴比肯屋村没有任何煤气管道，因此你只能通过使用电炉或电暖器来加热你的公寓——危险且昂贵。这似乎难以置信，但是，尽管屋村里所有的地暖都是电动的，但没有办法安装单独的温控器——在任何地方。 你可以在太热的时候打开窗户，在太冷的时候打开电炉，但除此之外，你只能任由一个无处不在、不可阻挡的集中供暖系统摆布，这个系统由一个遥远的、匿名的、集中的官僚机构控制，理想上是仁慈的：几乎是福利国家的一个隐喻，在那里，甚至供暖都是为所有人规划的，从摇篮到坟墓：通过共识和委员会供暖。  我在最近的一篇文章中详细讨论了这个论点；你可以在这里阅读（https://mariocarpo.com/essays/central-heating）。

直截了当地说，巴比肯的供暖是一场噩梦，这也是为什么当富人买下这些公寓并意识到不可能调节供暖时，必须进行如此多改造的原因之一。

在我看来，住宅应该是一个任何人都可以选择最适合自己需求的热环境的地方。无论你喜欢热的还是冷的，开窗还是关窗；后现代主义的魅力在于认识到没有两个人是相同的——他们的温度偏好也是如此! 现代主义相信同质性；后现代主义不相信。

巴比肯屋村的其他问题是什么？

有一个现象，一个特别发生在塔楼上的问题，也就是我住过的地方，我称之为垂直士绅化。在高层建筑的顶层，富豪、亿万富翁、寡头购买公寓，并将其中的两到三套组合在一起。在实践中，它导致了在顶层的永久建筑工地。如果你住在一栋由巨大的钢筋混凝土制成的大楼里，你会听到一个勺子从30楼一直掉到地下室的声音。鉴于此，想象一下建筑工人整天钻孔、拆除钢筋混凝土或悬挂吊顶、重修浴室。 特别是在疫情期间，当我们都在家里工作时，那真是地狱。

据我所见，巴比肯繁荣的新居民并不满意其简陋的风格，而是想要更豪华和精致的装饰。更重要的是，尽管这些公寓在当时被认为是相当大的，但浴室被规划的很小，可能是由于那个时代的节俭精神。如今的富裕业主有着不同的品味；因此，浴室正在被改造。

例如，在疫情期间我居住的塔楼里，顶层安装了一个石材切割车间，持续了数月，这就意味着三部电梯中的一部被建筑承包商长期使用，上上下下，运送大理石板。

在我看来，这种 "垂直 "的士绅化是一种品味差异的结果。有钱人可能不喜欢这个建筑的外观，他们对60年代和70年代的粗野主义没有兴趣——这会让他们想起了社会住房，即使在这个例子中这种类比是没有必要的。 但他们对巴比肯塔楼的评价和左拉对埃菲尔铁塔的评价一样——不看它的唯一方法就是站在它的上面。由于平面布局，每个公寓都有两个或三个朝向。直到最近，它还是伦敦最高的住宅楼——41层。从顶部看去，景色令人惊叹，因此人们购买了视野并改造了一切，这让下面所有居民的生活变成了一场噩梦。

关于噪音的投诉，在高层建筑中是很极端的，而在水平向的街区中似乎是可以控制的，因为那里的房地产压力没有那么大。如果你想从顶层看风景，那是无法实现的。公寓更小更便宜。寡头们不会购买那些真的看起来像 "中产阶级 "社会住房的公寓——因为它们曾经确实如此。

你的积极经验是什么？有什么是你觉得不可思议的吗？

我告诉你一个居民的经验，噪音，邻居，等等。但是，作为一个建筑师，被设计所包围总是好的。我并不总是喜欢张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩公司的选择。有时候我觉得他们没有技术和手段来支持他们的抱负。然而，尽管存在这些缺点，早上醒来时看到周围都是设计意图还是很好的。

这个意图不一定是你喜欢的建筑师的意图，它只需要由一个愿景驱动。如果你是一个设计师，或者你只是关心设计的智慧，它会让你的生活变得更美好。

在巴比肯，建筑师们的混凝土构造是非常了不起的，非常符合保罗-鲁道夫的精神。尽管我并不特别欣赏保罗-鲁道夫的设计，但很明显他是一个伟大的设计师。当我在耶鲁大学建筑学院教书时——那座鲁道夫设计的令人生畏的大型混凝土建筑——从比例到工艺，它的一切都吸引着我的眼睛。很明显，这个结构首先是在一位建筑师的头脑中精心而熟练地建造的——而且是一位天才的建筑师。 正如我所说的，它不一定是你的共同愿景；它的一致性和力量足以让人眼前一亮，心生赞叹。

在巴比肯，你什么时候有家的感觉？是在你离开街道进入大堂的时候，还是在你到达并进入自己的公寓后？

虽然我喜欢那个大堂，但它肯定没有家的感觉。它更像是在车站等火车，人们不断地进进出出。另外，还有那种置身于公共空间被陌生人包围的感觉。门卫总是在值班，警惕地看守着这个区域。

但当你打开自家的门，踏进去的时候，有一种立刻到家的感觉。这几乎是一种神奇的感觉! 想象一下乘坐电梯上升120米的体验——就像你在阿尔卑斯山上爬山一样。下面的云层感觉如此之近，以至于当它们分开，露出上面的太阳时，令人叹为观止——类似于在飞机上，云层在下面，阳光从机翼上反射出来!

所有这一切都发生在你离开了洞穴般阴暗险恶的大堂和电梯的时刻之后；推开你的前门走进充满阳光的屋内。这是一种愉悦的感觉。

在那里生活了五年之后，你对整个建筑群的了解程度如何？

巴比肯屋村是因其迷宫般的布局而闻名。每次你出门，穿过公共广场，都会有人问你： "对不起，你知道怎么去..." 每个人都会永远的在迷路。这是交通分离和隔离正常街道想法的结果，街道在这里被空中人行道所取代。意思是说，这里有非常复杂的人行平台，由走廊、通道、桥梁和阳台组成，它们不符合城市的尺度，必须学习而不是遵循。

张伯伦、鲍威尔和本恩完全接受了柯布西耶式的现代主义理想，即分离功能，特别是消除交通。汽车在隧道里，行人在桥梁和平台上；理论上，这是一个安全的行人天堂。此后不久，我们意识到，有时与不同的交通方式共享道路会更容易、更令人愉快，而不是有一个隔离制度，即自行车只能遇到自行车，汽车只能遇到汽车，行人只能遇到其他行人。但这是后来才有的，是后现代主义：旨在设计一个新的街景，整合不同的交通方式：自行车、行人和汽车。平台是该项目最具时代特征的元素。现代主义是关于隔离的；后现代主义是关于整合的。

那么，在一个住宅里不同活动的整合呢？

在过去的两三年里，我们学到的是，你离开家去工作，工作后回到家，然后再次离开家，去看电影，或去购物，或其他，这种想法已经崩溃了。现在，我们需要重新创造一个我们可以同时生活、工作并享受乐趣的地方，顺便说一下，这是工业革命之前正常的生活方式。

那时——在前工业时代，也就是不久前——每个办公室都是家庭办公。人们在家里工作——工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商；衬衫制造商、鞋匠、帽子制造商、裁缝、女裁缝......  他们在自己居住的同一栋楼里有一个小店，有时在不同的楼层。这就是他们在我们发明铁路之前的生活方式，我们决定我们需要去不同的地方工作。这种先入为主的想法在疫情期间受到了真正的挑战，这时白领工人——保险经纪人、医生、教师加入了工匠、木匠、橱柜制造商。这表明谁真正需要 "去工作"，谁可以 "在家里工作"。

当然，我们不应该忽视心理上的影响，这些影响正变得越来越被人理解和重视，我们作为社会人，走出去，认识其他人的需求和意义。 今天的新IT（信息技术）将不可避免地探索和挑战我们从过去继承下来的所谓 "自然 "的社区和接近模式。

然而，今天，市场力量不断地建造越来越大的办公室，世界各地的当局仍然在投资建设新的地铁线路和办公楼，系统仍坚信这是使城市盈利的最简单的方式。

在1922年，建造办公楼也许是个好主意，当时数据是集中的；现在到了2023年，只有计算机服务器是集中的，所有的数据管理都可以是远程和去空间化的（也就是说，大多数办公室工作可以在任何地方进行）。

没有人在建造人们需要的住宅。这就是矛盾之处。

巴比肯屋村是在1956年构思的，当时人们早上8点离开家去工作，下午6点回家，有些人仍然会这样做，但越来越少的人会如此。现在是发明一些不同的东西的时候了。我们需要新的空间和新的技术基础设施，让人们在生活、工作、购物和娱乐的同时，尽量减少物理位移，并尽量减少对人员、原材料、食品和货物的机械运输的需求。 巴比肯屋村是一个碳足迹的纪念碑，可能不容易进行改建以适应这一目的。 时间会告诉我们...  

2022年９月15日

MARIO CARPO

is an architectural historian and critic, currently the Reyner Banham Professor of Architectural History and Theory at the Bartlett, University College London and the Professor of Architectural Theory at the Institute of Architecture of the University of Applied Arts (die Angewandte) in Vienna. His research and publications focus on history of early modern architecture and on the theory and criticism of contemporary design and technology.

www.mariocarpo.com

MARIO CARPO

is an architectural historian and critic, currently the Reyner Banham Professor of Architectural History and Theory at the Bartlett, University College London and the Professor of Architectural Theory at the Institute of Architecture of the University of Applied Arts (die Angewandte) in Vienna. His research and publications focus on history of early modern architecture and on the theory and criticism of contemporary design and technology.

www.mariocarpo.com

MARIO CARPO

is an architectural historian and critic, currently the Reyner Banham Professor of Architectural History and Theory at the Bartlett, University College London and the Professor of Architectural Theory at the Institute of Architecture of the University of Applied Arts (die Angewandte) in Vienna. His research and publications focus on history of early modern architecture and on the theory and criticism of contemporary design and technology.

www.mariocarpo.com