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Location: Government district, Oslo.

 

Høyblokka is a high-rise building designed by the architect Erling Viksjø (1958). It was planned to host the Government, which brought hope for the citizens of Oslo after the World War II. Its monumentality and modern principles (such as piloti, free plan, roof garden, free design of the façade and art as a public property) made it become a symbolic building over the city.

On July 22, 2011, Høyblokka was the subject of a terrorist bombing against multiculturalism, destroying its interior and damaging several of the surrounding buildings. This fact reinforced its significant value as a symbol and cultural heritage.

THE GATEWAY OF SILENCE

Debates about preserving the building or demolishing it have been going on for the last years. Neither an institution nor even a government are to say which object can serve as a monument. One can’t be forced  to desire something. This is a cultural discussion. When we start public discussions about whether or not something is a monument we are essentially engaging in a collective act of imagining the future, monuments are things we chose in order to help us face the future and transition into it.

I approached the excursion to the H-Blokken as an exercise of investigation. I did not want to describe the building standing in a certain position but to walk around the space posing questions for debates.

What is behind that building? What happened to the city after the explosion in 2011?

How is democracy represented by architecture?

Is there general agreement as to what the 1958 Government building represents? Is it an outdated structure? Is it a symbol?

Why do we want this building? What do we want to keep? What do we want to transform?

What is a monument? Is  Høyblokka a real monument to democracy?

Is architecture an interpretation of a non-architectural problem? Is it a reflection of social issues?

The answers are always tentative, never finite. What matters is to raise awareness and create debates. Having different opinions is more interesting than a unique answer, when everybody agrees with something it becomes so obvious that, in the end, it disappears: the discussion is over.

Walking all the way upstairs inside the building I realized how a powerful weapon architecture is. The preservation is a different way to interact with the building, is an interesting trigger for discussing values. I could perceive the building as something to gather discussions around. I beheld social matters reflected on materials (concrete, steal, wood, paint...), objects (frames, doors, blinds...) and architectural elements (pilars, floors, ceilings, walls, stairs, holes...).

The following  pictures expose situations and  make objects talk. Cracks on the walls, reinforced concrete showing its nerves, fallen paint layouts, circulation restrictions, security cameras, unreal façades, textile windows... All these situations are registering acts of violence, control, injustices, restrictions, borders, silence, time passed...

SILENCE

VIOLENCE AGAINST VIOLENCE

FAKE WINDOWS

RESTRICTIVE VIOLENCE

FALLING APART

NOT USEFUL ANYMORE

VIOLENCE AS AN ACT OF DISMEMBERING A BUILDING

OPENED AGAIN

CONNECTION OF VIRTUAL AND REAL SPACE

HIDING THE TRUTH

BRUTALITY AGAINST FRAGILITY

EMPTY SPACE

 DARKNESS INSIDE THE BUILDING

Høyblokka is still part of the landscape of Oslo but it no longer holds the same place. The disaster has led it to a complete silence. Høyblokka, was a product of brutalism but it does not give this perception anymore. The impressive concrete façade has turned into a textile covering which leads to a fragile piece of architecture.

One of the problems we have now is that preservation is so institutionalized, that people feel like they don’t have a say. This is something that has to be changed as it make buildings have an aura, an story behind them. Preservation becomes an object of discussion which institutions shouldn't be able to participate in. Democratic potential is based on discussions, which lead to communal assignment of meanings and values.

© 2016 by Cristina Ferrer Teixidor

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