An open door to a lively music venue

]  I N T E R V I E W   W I T H   K I M   H E R F O R T H   N I E L S E N   ( 3 X N )  [

Although there could hardly be a greater contrast than between the dignified Royal Danish Embassy in Berlin and the new music centre ‘Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ’ in Amsterdam, the two have one aspect in common. Behind a semi-transparent or transparent facade, there is a microcosm, a city within a city as it were, where people climb and descend staircases, where light slants in through unexpected openings, and where public and private spaces are sharply counterpointed. The offices in Berlin are closed to the internal street; in Amsterdam the main concert hall seems like an Egyptian temple captive within a glass box. Both complexes, however, have sumptuous staircases, theatrical platforms you could almost say, with dizzying views.

On the morning after the opening of his Muziekgebouw by Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands, Kim Nielsen pointed out the importance he attaches to internal circulation. The Muziekgebouw, unlike the embassy, was meant to have an informal character. Nielsen designed the new music centre with that in mind. It had to be a place where people can stroll at their ease, where they can saunter and lounge around – anything but a formal affair. That people sit on the stairs and ogle one another from the balcony foyers was something Nielsen had foreseen because it was exactly how he wanted the building to be used. ‘What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was that classical orchestras and popular groups could perform at the same time. When I left the main auditorium during the interval on the opening evening, I was surprised to see an Afro band performing. All those different styles and atmospheres get along very well.’ This too was an (implicit) intention. The Muziekgebouw, he explained, is meant as a laboratory, as a buzzing hive of music making.

COMPETITIONS

For eight years after winning the competition in partnership with two other Nielsens (who have since left the firm), he worked at, drew and tinkered with the Muziekgebouw design. He was still relatively young when he won the commission and he saw it as a chance to prove himself. ‘We weren’t in it for the money. I think it actually cost us more than we earned. We thought it might be a useful step towards other commissions.’ That has proved true. Kim Nielsen is now working on a museum in Liverpool, on the arts & mediacentre in Salford university in Manchester and on a combined university, sciencepark and concerthall in South Jutland.

His firm 3XN has meanwhile entered several competitions, among them one for the European Central Bank in Frankfurt. Nielsen’s personal signature is also evident in this competition design. The emphasis is on a meting place in the form of a huge courtyard garden, surrounded by round balconies where bank staff can take a break. The open foyer contrasts with the office sections – a recurrent theme. Although the building exists only as drawings and an artist’s impression, it is not, according to Nielsen, intended to be symmetrical or monumental, and must be a concept which is open to all kinds of change. ‘Not signed and not sealed, just like the EU.’ For Nielsen himself, the greatest challenge in Amsterdam was the chance to design a concert hall at such a prominent location. He turned the building to face the Central Station – deliberately, because it would automatically attract the attention of interested visitors. He could moreover profit from the magnificent east-west alignment: the Muziekgebouw is already noted for showcasing the most breathtaking sunsets in Amsterdam. The Muziekgebouw has two entrances, one below the quay and the other on a level with Piet Heinkade; the latter entrance is reached by a footbridge reminiscent of a gangway (design by Hans van Heeswijk). The two entrances were required to make it easy to reach the Muziekgebouw from the Central Station, but that was not the only reason for providing them. ‘Two entrances communicate with each other. It sets the circulation of visitors in motion. The wide staircases add to the effect.’ A monumental central entrance would have been wrong, he feels. ‘I regard the foyer as an outdoor space which communicates, through the glass, with the quay and the square. It is a good thing that people enter the building by one entrance and leave it by the other.’ There is another benefit of having two entrances. ‘In a classic concert hall, one concert is held at a time, one event. Here on the other hand everything takes place at once: Jazz, the library, rehearsal studios etc. A single entrance wouldn’t do the building justice.’

REVOLVING DOORS

The reference for this architecture was to shipyards, to the rawness of the harbour, as is evident in the plank floors. Nielsen sought a nautical, industrial ambience. As soon as you enter through the revolving door you find yourself a hall where you might imagine yachts being built. The revolving door is necessary, incidentally, to exclude the wind, because it can be blustery in this quarter of Amsterdam. As Nielsen says, ‘The wind blows a notch harder here on the Beaufort scale than in the city centre. You have to avoid draughts, always a risk when there are two doors that could open at the same time. They would make interior conditions very unpleasant.’ Although various systems exist, Nielsen opted the Tourniket because it has a transparency that matches that of the glass facade. Besides the revolving doors, there are gigantic sliding doors in the front facade.

Entrances have a tendency to be a neglected aspect in Dutch architecture. Whether Amsterdam School or De Stijl, the Supermodernism of the 1990s or today’s blob architecture, Dutch architects seem to have difficulty designing a striking, promotional entrance. Does the front door always have to come bottom of the list of architectural considerations? ‘Most architects put it out of their minds. It doesn’t dawn on them until they have finished all the drawings that people have to get inside the building somehow. Yet the entrance is crucial, particularly for how you show people the way. It should really be an integral part of the design process, but it is all too often an afterthought.’ Neglect of the entrance is a symptom of democratization in architecture, he explains, a phenomenon that arose in the seventies. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but a concert hall is necessarily a landmark in the city and therefore ought to have a clearly marked entrance. The Netherlands resembles Denmark in that respect, because we are both struggling under a democratic tradition. It put architects in both cultures in a dilemma, because even when they are supposed to design a formal entrance they end up with an informal one.’ One example of that shortcoming is the new Royal Library in Copenhagen, nicknamed the Black Diamond: an imposing building on the waterfront, yet with only a modest entrance. The Muziekgebouw may also be regarded as having a ‘democratic’ entrance, although Nielsen believes visitors should have no cause for complaint. The BIMhuis, the jazz auditorium, projects from the facade as an embedded box, and so doubles as a superb canopy where you could roll up in style in a limousine. It’s also a place where you could shelter from the rain while waiting for a taxi. The same idea of a cantilevered box marking the entrance appears in another of Nielsen’s buildings, the DFDS Terminal in Copenhagen where ferries set out for Germany. There Nielsen literally breaks out of the straitjacket of the long, rectangular building, so tempering its severity. Another favoured theme of his is the slatted wall, which in the Berlin Embassy takes the form of wooden panels on the inside wall and wooden elements in the atrium. In the Muziekgebouw in Amsterdam, there are perforated panels in the main concert hall, from behind which a subtle light glows. He devised this concept together with the lighting designer and scenographer Stephen Scott. The illumination can be modified to match each performance. ‘The effect is that of an endless wall,’ says Nielsen, ‘as though the auditorium simply continues.’ Subtle use was made of this feature at the opening, with pale tints accompanying an almost soundless music, but countless variations are possible. ‘Scott and I sought a means of integrating light and colour, and also a simple, changeable system for combining sound and images.’ This had already been put into practice in a new music venue in Sonderborg, Denmark. Because development of the Amsterdam concert building took so long – owing to lengthy negotiations with the municipality and future users – Nielsen was able to refine the system farther. The delay also notably benefited the concert hall acoustics, for which the internationally renowned consultancy Peutz took responsibility. They proposed a solution in which the auditorium has a flexible ceiling and a movable floor. This makes it possible to render every conceivable kind of music, be it chamber music, choral music, music theatre or big band, in a fitting tonal and resonant context.

MUSEUM OF LIVERPOOL

WATERFRONT

Nielsen’s architecture seems at its best in a waterfront location. It is striking that buildings have just reached completion or are under construction at waterfront sites in several places in the world. Besides the DFDS Terminal plus various residential projects in Copenhagen and the Muziekgebouw in Amsterdam, there is his Museum of Liverpool design, which lies along the shore like a stylized snake with a picture window for a head. Buildings must not turn their backs on the city, he believes; on the contrary, they must welcome the city into themselves unequivocally. That will be true in Liverpool as it already is in Amsterdam. He had to get by with a very limited budget in Amsterdam but does not complain. ‘People look at the result and don’t talk about the budget. If they are pleased with the outcome, so am I.’ Were there details he had to skimp on? At first he refuses to answer but then capitulates. ‘I would have liked the building to have had a sloping front. And I would have preferred closed, compact columns instead of the open ones. But I can live with it.’ Having to watch expenditure all the time resulted in a building that suggests an old factory rehabilitated, or a shipyard converted to a concert hall – much to his satisfaction. It’s a little bit rough, a bit secondhand. The final result is practically the same as the competition-winning design apart from the roof and the canopy. The roof structure has become more slender. In his initial drawings, Nielsen proposed putting a variety of facilities on the rooftop, such as offices and the music library. These have now been shifted to the back of the Muziekgebouw. The architect can live with that too – indeed he considers it an improvement. Two components failed to materialize in Amsterdam, however, details that would have added even more attractiveness to the Muziekgebouw had the budget permitted. The first drawing showed an open air concert theatre on the roof. ‘That would have been incredible, but we needed 30 or 40 million euros more.’ Another missed chance concerns the foyer. Since Nielsen assumed the columns would be closed, one of them was meant to contain a chimney for a gigantic fireplace. An open fire on the banks of the IJ – in winter that would have made the Muziekgebouw, in several senses, into a musical entertainment hotspot. Reviews in the press are jubilant, and the first contacts for new projects have been made. Nielsen can round off his first Dutch adventure with a sense of confidence in the future. ‘It feels good to leave it behind me now. That would have been a different matter if people had been more sceptical.’ Not that he plans to abandon his brainchild entirely to its fate. Nielsen hopes to return at intervals to attend concerts: ‘It’s already such a lively place.’

MUZIEKGEBOUW AAN 'T IJ, TRANSPARENT ENTRANCE

MUZIEKGEBOUW AAN 'T IJ, ILLUMINATION MAIN CONCERT HALL

MUZIEKGEBOUW AAN 'T IJ, TRANSPARENT ENTRANCE

MUZIEKGEBOUW AAN 'T IJ, ILLUMINATION MAIN CONCERT HALL

DANISH EMBASSY BERLIN, WOODEN ELEMENTS IN THE ATRIUM

DFDS TERMINAL COPENHAGEN

MUZIEKGEBOUW AAN 'T IJ, STAIRCASE