Working with Ralph Erskine and his Office
Introduction
On arriving at the home and office of Ralph Erskine one is confronted by a timber walkway raised above the bare granite rock leading from the street up to the office entrance. This raised deck is angled away from the building and steps up through a number of levels before turning 180 degrees back on itself giving a view over the picturesque vernacular buildings of Drottningholm and the Royal palace.
The walkway is made of rough planks of different widths, it is placed at a slight angle from the buildings and is slightly too narrow for two people to pass without coming into close contact. Indeed, whenever one meets someone coming in the opposite direction one or other must step down off the path with a smile, and consequently there is a social interaction of humour and respect. Within this small and economic built element a whole spectrum of social, climatic and aesthetic attitudes are laid out and, one could argue, along with them Ralph Erskine’s fundamental design philosophy. The path is a relaxed composition in placement and detail, and the juxtaposition of a simple material against the exposed granite bedrock, has an enjoyable aesthetic quality. In climatic terms, raising the path makes the job of clearing the winter snowfall far easier. The route is defined yet not dictated, as with all the different paths leading to and around the office.
On entering the office for the first time, I have to admit to experiencing a sense of understandable awe. Ralph Erskine was sitting working on an elevation detail, sketching at 1:1 describing the rhythms and texture of a proposed façade material. The other members of the office smiled in recognition of my fascination. To me I was suddenly in the presence of possibly one of the foremost architects of the twentieth century. He was intensely sketching away, focused on the process of making a humane environment. Within a week or so I had dived into his joyous creative world, suddenly architecture was not only functionalism and conceptual organisation; it had become a social and artistic process too. The difficulties of decision replaced by a certain clear, simple, yet profound philosophy. In the environment and philosophy of the office that was created by Ralph Erskine one could not only use one’s architectural education but could suddenly behave and perceive space and design through the eyes of the general public.
Understandably I was keen to explore what I sensed. I was intrigued to delve into and try and unlock the thinking and philosophy behind Ralph’s work in more detail, I was also keen to unlock the diverse aesthetic decisions that had been made in past projects. What was the source of Ralph Erskine’s aesthetic judgements?
An aesthetic response: “Aesthetics are a form of function”
A key moment for me in my search for understanding of Ralph’s work came after having worked along side him for some time. I felt confident enough to push him on the issue of his aesthetic choices. I had become aware that Ralph had been educated many years earlier than a majority of today’s foremost and published architects. Was it that Ralph’s formative artistic education in the twenties and thirties coincided with the development of abstract art? A member of the office had seen a Joan Miró exhibition and felt there was a lot of Ralph’s aesthetics in the works on display.
Armed with the ever present reference books by Mats Egelius and Peter Collymore, I naively asked if Joan Miró was a source of Ralph’s aesthetic influences and pushed forward my theory that the sculptural and aesthetic qualities in his work came from the fact that he had received his artistic and architectural education early in the 20th century. Ralph’s response to this complex line of questioning was characteristic and one that many who have met him will recognise: “Who? No! I haven’t been influenced by a particular Artist.”
I pushed on in my questioning; surely there was some influence in the aesthetic forms of the day? We looked at a simple diagrammatic sketch and Ralph suddenly remembered that the work of Lubolt Lubetkin was published at the time of his studies and he burst out. “That was fantastic, the heavy form uplifted, a sense of the unexpected, all art should provoke in some way yet give the user a sense of security and enclosure. I suppose I’ve been doing the same thing ever since”. As he spoke he opened his upheld hand to describe the enclosure and protection then closed his fist to represent the provocation. He went on:” One can take this thinking into other arts too, music of course, but that’s another discussion.”
Looking at the work of Ralph, one can see this response repeated again and again, a sense of enclosure and provocation. One can see the literal application of this simple diagrammatic sketched form, we were discussing, at the University Library building in Frescati. There is an awkwardness and almost unnecessary feel to the balconies outside the main reading rooms on the first floor. These elements give an invaluable quality to the building, while causing an aesthetic conflict with the modernist form, they provide the user with an enjoyable opportunity to sit and talk, elevated in the sun, protected from the wind. Ralph would say: “Well these elements had an important function, and then I quite liked the way they looked”. This “quite liking” a composition which is not completely in ‘harmony’, is present in most of Ralph’s work. Lining things up and softening the environment is not of interest.
This conscious approach to making secure, yet provocative form can be endorsed by speaking to the users of any Erskine built environment. As a member of Ralph’s office, I often hear the same response from people who know of Ralph’s work: “I do like the building, but there is something about it that is disturbing”. An explanation of this is that the buildings and urban spaces have an underlying respect for the individual. Seeking out their fundamental needs for security and yet providing exhilaration. In urban planning, the basis for the work can be closely related to the psychological needs of people as suggested by Gordon Cullen in his publication ‘Townscape’. This is not specifically, as is commonly believed, in the vernacular form of buildings and urban spaces but rather in the psychological needs of the public.
An open mind.
While searching and continually listening, as we all do at the 3 o’clock coffee time, we have cautiously questioned Ralph on his life’s experiences. This can vary from his travels around the world to encounters with other prominent architects.
Culture, geography and climate:
Ralph’s thinking and knowledge of a particular place grows from a genuine interest of the cultures of the world and their struggles and expressions. Ralph has travelled extensively and his observations of a people focus on the fundamentals of an environment that has coloured their culture, namely its climate, geology, fauna, and history.
One particular example of this was a description Ralph gave of a journey around Iceland. I was intrigued as his descriptions coincided with a visit by students from Stockholm University to the same country. My discussions with the students, on their return, portrayed a harsh, barren landscape of ice and pumice. A somewhat expected visual description. The description of the same country by Ralph became naturally a safari describing mineral deserts of sand all the colours of the spectrum, of built form made from drift wood and of the influence of Russian traders on the inhabitants. Objective and inquisitive observation of the cultures and their environments has therefore enriched the Ralph’s work in the varied climates and cultures he has worked in, each work is a journey of discovery.
Architecture:
Ralph has rarely expressed his standpoint on the work of other architects. We all looked over his shoulder as he sat reading an Architectural Review at the end of 1999 mapping out the influences the relationships between the works of the major Twentieth Century architects. Ralph was placed between Frank Lloyd Wright and Hans Scharoun. He shrugged his shoulders: “I suppose that’s about right”.
Clearly he has had his influences and on looking at a particular project of Le Corbusier, a project with form, detail, material and colour not stylistically associated with the Architect, Ralph became almost speechless, his hand flowed over the images, then raised rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to express the quality of the work he was looking at.
In his gold medal speech at the RIBA 1987 Ralph attempted to embrace the complexities and ironies of Architecture, giving his speech the title “Architecture- Extravagant gestures or useful art?” This lecture leads the audience through a description of “The concept of modernism” and its value while, reminding us that Architecture “… is the Art of building communities whether or not architects are involved in its creation.”
Material and detail:
As well as a clear attitude to form and building language the use of material is very particular in the more recent works. I put forward a theory to Ralph that his use of material has developed with the changes in the building industry over the last 60 years, the discussion focused around the use of brick at the Aula Magna, and in Greenwich. Again, Ralph brushed the theory aside and by doing so he made clear that formal analysis can cloud a design process hard enough and complex enough in itself. All works should be seen individually in their striving for a composition that promotes social interaction and human well-being.
An interesting example of work that demonstrates the approach to form and use of material can be seen in the unrealised London, underground Cross Rail project of the late 80’s. Here the central concern was to make the users experience of their underground journey as one of, room to room, in contrast to a flow in pipes. The proposal not only develops the shape of the tunnel room, but also uses terracotta as a workable and artistic material of the craftsman. The work can be seen as that of artist and sculpture of built form, and the proposal is equally a balanced composition of form and detail. The use of material in this project contrasts dramatically from the machined aesthetic of the built London Jubilee line underground stations. In these designs repetition, economics, and order are generally used to give their environment character.
Ralph Erskine’s refusal to allow a forced and predictive conceptual thinking to dominate his work has meant that he has the freedom to work with clarity. His profound and simple philosophy has grown from behaving and observing as a human being, and he uses this to the full in his architecture.
The offices today.
The office today remains in the studio building at Drottningholm, part of the complex adjacent to Ralph’s home. Ralph, although interested in the work, is not active on a daily basis. Key members of the office have, in principle, served an apprenticeship under the guidance of Ralph. We have members of staff who have worked for Ralph Erskine over some twenty years with projects such as the Aula Magna, Hedesunda, The London Ark and numerous urban planning projects throughout Europe. Indeed the staff is generally in their thirties and forties, and consequently their formative architectural education comes from Ralph’s own thoughts and hand. At the beginning of the new Millennium Johannes Tovatt was made a partner. This was primarily due to a concern that the large Greenwich housing project, which has spanned over a number of years, should have a stability bearing in mind Ralph was “not getting any younger”. In his generosity of looking into the future we hope to keep alive some of the clarity and philosophy of making social context.
As an office we are keen to avoid a limiting ‘conceptual’ framework. In the tradition of Ralph Erskine we believe in a functional basis for architecture and urban planning, which should develop through an artistic sketching process while being informed, hopefully, through dialogue with users and client bodies. By definition of the philosophy we follow the work cannot be retrospective or predictive. We cannot repeat form and language; our aesthetic response will be influenced by our education, which includes Ralph’s tutelage.
Today the world is a place with new challenges. The stylistic influence of global culture, not least in the numbers of architectural publications available today, creates a different and possibly difficult world to work in. The essential needs of the individual could be clouded by this overflow of information. As Ralph has said while casually flicking through the numerous architectural magazines in the office: “I’m glad I’m not competing today it would be hard to impress the colleagues these days.”
For A+U, January 2005
Geoff Denton RIBA
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