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| Philipp Oswalt & Matthias Hollwich (Translation Fiona Greenwood) | 1998 | |
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O.M.A. at work |
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'The longer I work at O.M.A., the less I understand how architecture
is developed,' said a former colleague from O.M.A. to me recently, as
we were speaking about his work. Does the office have the character of
a Zen Buddhist monastery, in which believers' certainties are systematically
destroyed in order to reveal to them the 'truth'? How does an office whose
rule is to have no rules function? One that continually seeks to escape
its own history and the inevitable acquisition of a repertoire or a style,
one that seeks to be contemporary and at the same time attempts to avoid
similarities with other contemporary architecture. There is, of course,
no method, no recipe. Every project has its own history. Yet there is
a series of prerequisites and parameters that are characteristic of the
design process. An important
precondition is that the majority of the employees are quite inexperienced
and young. Not only do they work unbelievably hard for relatively little
money and thereby make it possible to pursue thousands of ideas, to try
them out and reject them, which no client would ever want or be able to
pay for, but more importantly, it is the naivety with which they
approach the tasks they are set. Ignorant of how the problem would normally
be solved, they can experiment with a childlike lack of inhibitions and
thus develop new ideas. But how
can this potential be linked up with the necessary expert knowledge, the
required technical intelligence or even negotiating capacities without
being limited by convention? Competence emerges at O.M.A. in two
ways: firstly, in the form of staff who have been in the employ of O.M.A
for a long time, having joined as students or recent graduates and who
have accumulated experience at O.M.A. and learned to apply their competence
for, not against, an experimental design praxis. Secondly, through engineers
from outside or consultants whose judgment carries a great deal of weight
- not that they make suggestions for solutions and impose those solutions,
rather, they comment on the ideas from their own perspective, evaluate
them and formulate requirements as basically as possible, so that O.M.A.
can develop new solutions with their help. In addition, they are supposed
to develop innovative proposals in their discipline without defining concrete
forms. (O.M.A. is not prepared to leave the field of implementation to
the technicians. The office pursues a strategy of expansion in order to
take in as many aspects of the design process as possible.) The idea in
doing this is to use the competence of the engineers to combat the conventionality
of their profession. Over and over again they are confronted with quantities
of naive, intelligent or abstruse proposals. And sometimes it is possible
to arrive at entirely new, surprising and yet very simple solutions, like
the ceiling construction of the Educatorium in Utrecht, for example. Rem's role
in the design process varies a great deal from project to project: for
some projects, he furnishes an abstract idea at the beginning, or makes
a few sketches that stake out the broad lines; in other projects, the
staff search for a concept for weeks, even months, and Rem keeps aloof,
as he is too busy with other things, or does not yet have an idea himself
of how the project is to be developed. Rem's instructions are mostly so
vague, his presence over long periods only intermittent and his distance
to the design team so great that some employees opine that he is not really
a designer at all, it is his staff who produce the architecture. But if
one analyzes the development of the projects, one sees very clearly that
most of the crucial ideas stem from Rem. His type of involvement is justified
not only by reasons of efficiency - how can one individual keep control
of three, five or more projects - but is also a design strategy. The distance
between the team of designers and Rem leads to great flexibility: at any
time, the direction can be changed unexpectedly, and the more doggedly
the design team sticks to a solution or a problem, the likelier it is
that this will happen. The work of days or weeks can be discarded in the
space of a minute without much discussion. Rem does not give any directives;
rather, he initiates processes. He intervenes, tries to stimulate new
ideas, points out possibilities. His instructions are vague, they are
more the description of an intention and must be interpreted. If one takes
his suggestions too literally, however, he reacts impatiently, asking
why one does not investigate other possibilities and address other questions. In order
to break down the design process further, other members of staff are occasionally
drawn in at short notice. Rem or the team present the project to O.M.A.
staff who have been working there for years and discuss it with them.
Such meetings can greatly influence the further development of the project.
This form of intervention can also be extended to short-term cooperation
with architects not involved in the project: they work on one aspect of
the project for a few days and can thereby change the design significantly.
Less in awe of that which has already been achieved, the staff who have
been uninvolved until then foil the intentions of their colleagues, which
makes it at the same time much easier to develop substantial new ideas. Basically,
almost any form of destabilization appears to be welcome. It is
rather unlikely that the team that has begun a project takes it through
to realization. It may happen that a team, having worked through the night
and an interim presentation, comes into the office to find that the workplaces
have been seized by colleages and the team has to find new ones. The concept
of private property does not exist in the office anyway: every drafting
pen, every adhesive film, every geodesic triangle that one has with difficulty
acquired for oneself can disappear again within days or hours. And it
would not surprise anyone in the office if he or she were told that they
had to fly that very day to Hanoi for several days because of a project.
One hundred percent availability is implicitly demanded - 24 hours a day,
7 days a week, 365 days a year, with the exception of Christmas. One should
not attach too much importance to any apparent status. Of course there
are some senior members of staff whose judgement carries particular weight,
who have influence and power in the office and who usually lead the projects.
Yet when working on a design, a good idea from a young member of staff
can be implemented, thwarting the intention of the project leader. And
even if the team leaders control the communication in the office, this
is sometimes spontaneously subverted by Rem. Another
false conclusion would be to think a project was finished. It can happen
that just a few hours before a presentation or a deadline Rem wants to
change the design, the model, the drawings or collages. Then arguments
of time or costs are of no import, to the despair of the financial director
and the curses of the staff who have to change everything at the last
moment. When one
is involved in this process, one can sometimes despair over the inefficiency
and the absence of conventional professionality. But in the end, one is
obliged to concede that the non-linearity of the design process,
the lack of routine or an established canon of methods or solutions are
the basis for the quality of the office's work. It is precisely the apparent
chaos that constitutes the distinctly unusual quality of the office's
professionality. It is characteristic that Rem assesses a project sceptically
precisely when it has developed continuously without conflicts, crises
and interruptions. And his aversion to developing a repertoire is so great
that at one time, he wanted to ban his book SMLXL from the office. It is the
ambition of the office to structure the design process in such a way that
the maximum number of influences, criteria and ideas are included. Nothing
should be excluded or fixed on too quickly. It is much more a question
of discovering possibilities and investigating their potential.
In design praxis, this means that a multiplicity of alternatives for each
problem is developed and investigated. Each of these options should articulate
its own interesting idea, whose essence is usually characterised with
its own concept too (like 'Donkey Kong,' for example, or 'Mixing Chamber'
or 'Mies Wrap'). As long as an idea is interesting, there is no reason
to dismiss it to begin with: it does not matter how impossible to realize,
how complicated or absurd it appears at first glance, its potential will
first be investigated. The development
of alternatives creates the basis for a quasi evolutionary design
process. The possible developments of a design task are shown and a know-how
about the problem (program, site, technology restrictions, etc.) is developed.
This provides the fertile ground out of which the real ideas often emerge
spontaneously. Working
with alternatives is the basis of a design attitude that refuses the arbitrariness
of an 'artistic inspiration' as much as it does the linearity of functional
or constructive derivation of design ideas or the deduction of design
ideas from architectural theory. It is indicative that innumerable alternatives
will also be investigated when an obviously brilliant idea has already
emerged: although Rem had already had the basic idea at the beginning
of the IIT project, all the same, he kept the team investigating and developing
completely different ideas for weeks. As none of the newly developed options
was any more convincing, though, the idea that was there from the start
was taken up again. This Sisyphus-like
way of proceeding may appear totally inefficient, but it proves to be
extremely fruitful. For one thing, it is indispensable for testing the
relevance of ideas in a sort of autocritique. Furthermore, a large
reservoir of ideas thus comes into being, a reservoir that is constantly
being updated and enlarged. Even if this work only exerts a minimal influence
on the concrete project, it can become the source of inspiration for another
project and lead to a 'cross-fertilization', as one of the options for
the ZKM in Karlsruhe did in the basic idea for the Tres Grande Bibliothèque
in Paris (see SMLXL, p. 626). The continuous reflection over alternatives
keeps the design process fluid. A typical comment of Rem's is 'why
don't you try...?' The staff are urged to keep investigating new possibilities
and not limit themselves to a solution favoured by one of them. This manner
of proceeding frees the working process from the personal preferences
of individual members of staff. Often it is impossible to distinguish
the 'author' of a design solution, since the various ideas exert a reciprocal
enriching influence. The design develops out of a design concurrence.
A large number of criteria - rational or intuitive, conceptional or functional
- lead in the end to the dominant design idea crystallizing out of the
multiplicity of possibilities. Settling
on a solution, or to put it more precisely, filtering out a solution from
the pool of ideas takes place very late; the alternatives are developed
in parallel over a long period. The decision is postponed as long
as possible, because it always implies the loss of other possibilities,
limitation. Rem himself
makes the decision, very often asking other people their opinion and sometimes
initiating debates. In this process apprentices and visitors just as project
leaders and team members can equally be drwan in. If the problem contains
construction-related or technical questions, the endorsement of the solution
by an engineer competent in the field is an indispensable prerequisite. Once a
design idea has become established, in the subsequent course of proceedings
it will be seen as a given and all future developments will have to grapple
with it. As with a growing organism, later developments build on earlier
ones. The new can modify that which has existed until now, changing its
meaning, but usually cannot dispose of it any more. This 'freezing'
of elements in an otherwise undirected, non-linear process is important,
so that the projects can develop depth and multidimensionality. Important
architectural elements that have gained great relevance during the design
work attain an autonomy this way and are retained even when the conditions
of their emergence disappear and they lose their original significance.
In this way one finds in many projects elements that are not to be explained
directly through the concept, but rather can only be understood through
the historical development of the project, like for example the slanted
entrance door of the Villa Floriac or the Corporate Beam of the Universal
Headquarters. If, however,
the design decisions do not concern key elements, but rather partial aspects,
it really does happen that options that have been rejected are taken up
again in the further course of the work. This happens when new criteria
emerge through the further development of the project. Once a
basic idea has been found, the further shaping of the project does not
result out of this in a linear and consequent fashion. Rather, the basic
idea can be watered down or contaminated on other levels,
through other elements or even in their technical execution, as well as
in their architectural articulations. Underlying this is the desire to
integrate as many ideas as possible into the design process. Not clarity
and simplicity, but density and intensity, enriching and accumulation
is the goal. This attitude
to design allows for responding to external 'disturbances', be they of
a technical kind or building code related or of another kind: external
forces that affect the project, even if they at first throw into question
the original concept, are not regarded as inimical, but rather as potential
new qualities that could enrich the project. It is precisely out of the
conflict between original ambitions and pragmatic demands that the strongest
moments of the projects often arise. The design evolves out of a power
play between intention and external forces in a sort of dialogue. Specific
forms never come into being as 'artistic inspiration' but always out of
such reciprocal influencing. There are indeed ideas which remain dominant,
yet it is not a question of retaining them in their 'pure form'. Design
ideas are considered to be raw material that can be modified to
the limit of legibility. Apart from
the process of deformation and contamination, there is still a another
way in which external influences have an effect: during the design process,
a surplus of ideas for the formulating of the guiding thought or individual
aspects of the project is generated. Through the confrontation with external
demands (the client's wishes, costs, technology), a good number of these
ideas is lost, but a substantial number remain extant. Those ideas capable
of surviving are filtered out of the surplus. This manner of proceeding
not only keeps the project open to external influences, but also permits
the formulation of frivolous or risky ideas. It is not self-censorship
in advance of the expected constraints that takes place, rather these
are negotiated in dialogue. In the
office itself a filtering of the innumerable ideas is undertaken
in preparation for a presentation. After a phase of work and experimentation
as wide-reaching as possible, toward the end of a design phase, the ideas
that come out of it are set in relation to the whole project. In this
focusing process, the relevance of the individual ideas and aspects to
the project as a whole are examined and weighed. The unimportant or disturbing
is filtered out in order to arrive at clarity and comprehensibility for
the presentation, for the communication with juries or clients. In this
phase Rem undertakes the formal interventions, otherwise so disparaged.
They take place toward the end, when the concept stands on its own feet,
and are not intended to replace a design, but rather round off an existing
one. Another
important influence is the chance factor. Chance can have a crucial
influence on the emergence and development of a project and sometimes
the potential offered by chance can be heightened deliberately. For example,
the office was awarded a contract on the basis of a wrongly directed fax,
while in another project, the packaging of a Japanese fan that turned
up by chance spontaneously resolved the vain search of weeks for a suitable
building concept. Again and again such 'objets trouvés'
turn up, and at the crucial moment find their way into the design and
then they are taken surprisingly literally in their exact dimensions and
proportions, in their colour or texture. Concrete and abstract conditions
of the building site too - whether the materiality of the site, a provisory
and informal throughway or clearance regulations and zoning laws are also
tied into the design in this way, sometimes directly and without being
filtered. The constant desire for 'non-design' is at the root of this
process. And yet it is surprising how great the role O.M.A. cedes to chance,
for otherwise, the office is always keen to avoid any form of arbitrariness.
Here one can see a reference to the classic avantgarde, to Dadaism and
Surrealism, movements that also implemented chance again and again , in
order to bring into play the Other, the excluded, the repressed, the unconscious. When we
first came to O.M.A., we thought a theoretical discourse would
be conducted in the office and that it would influence the work and even
provide the foundation for it. Yet it was not long before we realized
that there was not much discussion, but principally production: sketches,
models, drawings, collages, diagrams, faxes, computer perspectives. For
the work in the office it is considerably more important to be familiar
with James Bond films than the theoretical discourses of Eisenman or Kipnis,
Deleuze or Derrida. Rem makes a sharp distinction between his theoretical
work and production in the office. The office
is characterized more by an American mentality than a European
one: produce, criticize and don't ask for the reasons, don't argue, show
unlimited commitment, don't expect any solidarity from your colleagues
- don't worry, be happy. It is not by chance that almost all the project
leaders come from the U.S.A.. It is obvious
that sometimes more reflection could save a lot of running on the spot
and one of the office's manifest weaknesses lies in the absence of a critical
discourse - this role is left principally to Rem. This is because for
one thing, in spite of all the freedom, in the end, the office does have
quite an authoritarian structure - who wants to lay oneself open
by assessing and criticizing, when the next minute Rem might take the
opposite standpoint. Even people who have been project leaders for years
are not always in a position to foresee what Rem's judgment will be. For another
thing, Rem does not promote theoretical discourse within the office, probably
because he fears that a theoretical approach would restrict the design
process rather than opening it up. A theoretical manner of proceeding
usually leads to unambiguous categories, monocausal structures and linear
conclusions, which contradicts the intentions of O.M.A. Thus it is not
to be wondered at that not textual but visual methods prevail in the design
process. Rem responds only to that which is to be seen, as diagram or
as model. The diagram
serves principally for the development and clarifying of ideas in early
phases and is, moreover, indispensable in order to communicate by fax.
Fifty percent of the time Rem is on the road - in the USA, Asia or Europe,
visiting clients, on building sites, at colleges, at lectures or just
at home in London - and he wants to be kept up to date about the development
of the projects on a daily basis. Therefore towards evening, the teams
look at the results of the day, structure and select the material and
reduce it to its quintessence - in small diagrams, easy to read
and to fax, short explanations and mottos - on 10, 20 or more pages. The
necessity to convey the results to someone 'from outside' in a comprehensible
fashion leads to a reflection on the otherwise rather undirected production,
to a reduction of the plethora of options to the essential and to checking
whether new thoughts and ideas are in agreement with the basic concept. Concept
models are prepared from the usable ideas; often these models represent
a direct translation of a diagram into the third dimension. They have
to convince not through beauty, but through clarity: often they are made
of blue polystyrol, harsh, direct and abstract. Once the basic concept
has been found, however, the working models are coloured and made of specific
materials. Very early on, ideas about materiality and colour are developed
with their aid. In the later work, the early concept models are brought
in again and again, in order to check if the original intention has not
lost in pithiness. They provide a yardstick and serve as corrective, so
that in spite of increasing realism, the conceptual architectural quality
is not weakened. Forms occasionally
arise out of the translation of a diagram into a concept model which is
then seen also as a concrete model with dimensions and proportions. Rem
usually tries to adhere to the intuitively fixed proportions and dimensions
of the concept model. Only if it is unavoidable because of external constraints
(costs, technology, etc) will the proportions be changed, and usually
this does not limit the original intention. All the same, there is an
insistence on the first articulation, a resistance, one could say, to
outside constraints. Rem loves
models. He can touch them, take them in his hands and manipulate them.
The working models can be changed, parts can be added to them or taken
away and in this way many ideas are developed on the model. Rem is disgusted
if elements in the model are already glued in place, suggesting finality,
although they are still under discussion. The model
is the tool in which the sum of the ideas are investigated in their mutual
influences and in relation to the context, with which proportions and
spatial interrelations are tested. In contrast, the diagrams drawn in
thick, black pencil serve to clarify concepts and the investigation of
individual parameters. If one
consciously considers how many influences a design is exposed to over
time, then the complex and multifaceted results become understandable.
The individual ideas, elements, aspects and qualities of a project arise
out of an indissoluble tissue of influences. By constantly checking the
effect against the model, retention of the succinctness and coherence
is assured. It serves to keep the intention comprehensible and to keep
the projects from becoming autonomous in the open process.I thank my former colleagues Matthias Hollwich, Gro Bonesmo, Minsuk Cho, Wilfried Hackenbroich and Julien Monfort for conversations about their experiences at and with O.M.A. P.S.: If you think you have now understood how O.M.A. works, then you are entirely mistaken. You will find everything that we have described in the office, but also its exact opposite. If by chance you should start to work yourself in the office, this will not help you very much. When one works at O.M.A, the only certainty is that there is no certainty. And one cannot even be sure of that... |
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Philipp Oswalt & Matthias Hollwich published in : Archis | Nummer 7-1998 | Rotterdam | 1998 & Baumeister | March 2001 | München | 2001 & Bigness. Size does matter | Ed. Jochen Becker | Berlin | 2001 Location : http://www.oswalt.de/en/text/txt/omawork_p.html |
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