This series was inspired by Rupi Kaur’s writing workshop on free writing.
Dear Le Corbusier,
I have been meaning to tell you… you are a frustrating architect I cannot escape from.
It all started in first-year of architecture school when our communications teacher assigned us a building to rebuild with Rhino. Guess what I’ve got: your infamous Villa Savoye.
I know. I know. I was fortunate in getting that building – that my friends and I could rebuild it with ease. While I was rebuilding Villa Savoye, what were your clients thinking when they were forced to compromise with living in an experimental house? How did they feel about the ramps and the spiral staircase (which was a pain to remodel)? What did they think of the bathtub (the photos make the bathroom look tiny)? Just how did they cope?
Not to mention, I wanted to know what it was like for them to live in the house during Winter. Sometimes, I feel that architects often forget Winter as a season, they solely focused on the summer climate, summer view. What about designing for the cold? The winter views as the snow blankets the entire landscape? Sometimes, when I cast my eyes into the interior of Villa Savoye, it feels almost cold and sterile.
Till this day, I find it odd how Villa Savoye is the only design of yours that adhere to the five integral points of architecture. I know this has influenced other architectural designs greatly, and those buildings are still standing proudly in our streetscape. Having said, was there a reason why you left it like that? Perhaps the other buildings were serving as another platform for you to experiment with different principles.
Did I mention? The other reasons why I can’t seem to escape from your presence is because of my second year in architecture school. During Contemporary Architecture, we each were assigned to research a specific building, and construct a dedicated Wiki page for it. To my surprise and shock, Ronchamp Chapel (Notre Dame du Haute) found its way into my hands. I felt lucky, but resigned for it feels like an odd joke in which I am forever tied to your name… I nicknamed your building the mushroom mainly because of the very first photo I saw – the angle and the grey colours resembled the button mushrooms my father often buys.
I cannot tell you how mortified I was once when I misinterpreted the structure of your building. Black and white photography disguised the materials well, and I mistook the roof structure to be made of Timber. After another research dive, I realised it was cast concrete, and I could not help but feel a wave of embarrassment for misleading my class in providing the incorrect information.
As I mentioned above, your structure almost looked like a giant mushroom, although, the public’s reactions may have been more accurate in comparison to mine. Some thought your design resembled a cowl, a pair of praying hands or a dove in action. Was that what you wanted? I am aware that the form was influenced by the contours and curves of the site, but I’d like to believe that you wished to create a spectrum of reactions to draw the public in. Otherwise, I’d like to understand how you have approached the design… from the perspective or from the plan? Given what I do know, it must’ve been the plan and view merged into a harmonious design.
To be honest, I have many reservations towards you, Le Corbusier. Sometimes, it is from your comment on the architecture being a machine; otherwise snubbing female designers or defiling E1021. I must say, your actions of painting on the wall of Eileen Gray’s well-known house horrified me. Even if you think it was a present for the home, painting someone else’s walls without their permission is still a significant damage to another’s skill and vision. The house was a celebration of a relationship – and it must’ve hurt Gray deeply when she saw those paintings.
There were times, I’ve grudgingly acknowledged your visions in design thinking. For instance, when I saw the model of Villa Savoye at NGV’s MOMA exhibition – you broke into the art and design world which architecture often have separated themselves from. Your five points in architecture, too, have impacted many have approached in designing large structures. In many ways, your theories still remain integral in our architecture education…
I have to ask if you were alive in our time now… would your visions of design have changed? Would your attitudes towards women change? You came from a period where it was apparent that men often dictated the portrayal of women, but as our gender are fighting for more respect and rights, would you perhaps side with us?
Would you give them the full credit they deserve? Without needing to attach your name to them?
I wonder whether you think architectures are machines now. We’ve got devices that implement a smart home. Perhaps that has become the new ‘machine’ that you have suggested not so long ago.
Having said, if you received this written letter right now, how would you react? Toss it? Scoff and say that it is absurd that a girl has challenged you recklessly? If I showed you images of Villa Savoye sunk and painted over now, how would you react? Would you laugh or ridicule the artists who have interpreted your building differently?
I have to be honest, I chuckled when I saw those edited images. Because it was a re-examination of your hard work.
There are so many things I can write to you about. How you came into my life again in the second year after studying Notre Dame du Haute… Or how I’ll enjoy watching you speaking in French as Google attempts to translate your speech on the spot.
Or that you were one of the first architects I wanted to write to while I was writing a letter in a writing workshop.
Either way, dear Le Corbusier – I can’t seem to sever ties with you. And I am horrified.
Yours sincerely,
Kimberley
1 April 2020