A mixture of anger and despair overwhelmed Alex as he stood in the garden of the “Big Brother” villa after Kerstin had left. So-called fans were shouting slogans over the barbed wire. “Stupid assholes,” he muttered, only to be comforted by John, the former squatter: “Don’t stoop to their level!”
This scene from contemporary residential life could serve as a backdrop for the exhibition Manifeste des Wohnens at the Künstlerhaus. The positions selected by Falter architecture critic Jan Tabor, architectural historian Karin Christof, and art historian Peter Bogner also explore temporary living situations and the boundary between public societal space and private interior space. Much like the residents of the Cologne media house, they reflect on the production conditions of young, collective living and working communities: where does a home end and the workplace begin?
Another analogy immediately presents itself. As co-curator Bogner notes, the exhibition’s subtitle, “den Fuß in der Tür” (“a foot in the door”), also reflects the competitive situation faced by young architects. Who will remain in this contested professional field? “Self-marketing is extremely important for us,” says a member of the office awg (“Alles wird gut”). “In the Netherlands, for example, architectural offices invest 20 to 30 percent of their budget in marketing.” Personal investment was also required for participation in the exhibition, which allocated a budget of 50,000 schillings per contribution. Sponsors stepped in to enable the various constructions and modifications. The doors in the Künstlerhaus serve as the guiding motif around which different concepts of living are built. The doors were assigned to the architects by lot.
The group sputinic literally remains “in the door” by leaning a steel ladder against the frame. The (self-)observation situation at home is displayed via a camera transmitting the exhibition from the second floor. The theme of observing, self-observation, and being observed forms the broad framework of the exhibition, which also includes self-portraits by Elke Krystufek and Lois Weinberger’s gaze into nature. Once again, the Künstlerhaus, led by Doris Rothauer, reveals intersections between various areas of cultural production.
This scene from contemporary residential life could serve as a backdrop for the exhibition Manifeste des Wohnens at the Künstlerhaus. The positions selected by Falter architecture critic Jan Tabor, architectural historian Karin Christof, and art historian Peter Bogner also explore temporary living situations and the boundary between public societal space and private interior space. Much like the residents of the Cologne media house, they reflect on the production conditions of young, collective living and working communities: where does a home end and the workplace begin?
Another analogy immediately presents itself. As co-curator Bogner notes, the exhibition’s subtitle, “den Fuß in der Tür” (“a foot in the door”), also reflects the competitive situation faced by young architects. Who will remain in this contested professional field? “Self-marketing is extremely important for us,” says a member of the office awg (“Alles wird gut”). “In the Netherlands, for example, architectural offices invest 20 to 30 percent of their budget in marketing.” Personal investment was also required for participation in the exhibition, which allocated a budget of 50,000 schillings per contribution. Sponsors stepped in to enable the various constructions and modifications. The doors in the Künstlerhaus serve as the guiding motif around which different concepts of living are built. The doors were assigned to the architects by lot.
The group sputinic literally remains “in the door” by leaning a steel ladder against the frame. The (self-)observation situation at home is displayed via a camera transmitting the exhibition from the second floor. The theme of observing, self-observation, and being observed forms the broad framework of the exhibition, which also includes self-portraits by Elke Krystufek and Lois Weinberger’s gaze into nature. Once again, the Künstlerhaus, led by Doris Rothauer, reveals intersections between various areas of cultural production.
“Committed to crossover.” This, according to Peter Bogner, describes the starting point of the non-established. Artistic interventions in public space, exhibition designs, or store remodels: the example of the older generation—Propeller Z, pauhof, and Poor Boys Enterprise—sets a precedent. Conceptual groundwork is initially tested in small architectural units. “No one starts anymore with a large construction project. Unless they have a wealthy relative,” explains Friedrich Passler of awg. Small steps on the career ladder serve as model “extended portfolios.” Propeller Z proved this approach successful, making their mark by designing a fashion store on Mariahilfer Straße. Exhibitions like Manifeste des Wohnens also have a marketing effect for the participants. “It’s important for us to be part of this league,” says one of the respondents.
The original impetus for the exhibition was a documentation of Viennese residential architecture. The curatorial team shifted from this plan in favor of presenting less established offices—a decision intentionally marking a generational leap. The professor generation—Hollein, Coop Himmelblau, and Domenig—offers with original designs a “long look back to the era around 1968.” Groups with extravagant, programmatic names such as Missing Link or Zünd Up are presented as visionary predecessors of Escpae spHere, Rataplan, Splitterwerk, and others: “manifest names,” as Peter Bogner calls them. In terms of organization, material, and form, the third generation moves close to the trailblazers.
Unlike many of today’s sixty-year-olds, however, the young offices do not aspire to grow old with a foot in the door. They can certainly benefit from the bonus of concretized housing utopias, especially since shared living—thanks to Big Brother—currently seems to be the most popular residential form. Yet the exhibition also hints at their failures. Just as traditional shared apartments dissolve after graduation—and on RTL 2 someone leaves every two weeks—the collaboration of architectural collectives is sometimes temporary: the group Poor Boys Enterprise has since disbanded. In the exhibition, its former members present themselves with individual works.
— Matthias Dusini
The original impetus for the exhibition was a documentation of Viennese residential architecture. The curatorial team shifted from this plan in favor of presenting less established offices—a decision intentionally marking a generational leap. The professor generation—Hollein, Coop Himmelblau, and Domenig—offers with original designs a “long look back to the era around 1968.” Groups with extravagant, programmatic names such as Missing Link or Zünd Up are presented as visionary predecessors of Escpae spHere, Rataplan, Splitterwerk, and others: “manifest names,” as Peter Bogner calls them. In terms of organization, material, and form, the third generation moves close to the trailblazers.
Unlike many of today’s sixty-year-olds, however, the young offices do not aspire to grow old with a foot in the door. They can certainly benefit from the bonus of concretized housing utopias, especially since shared living—thanks to Big Brother—currently seems to be the most popular residential form. Yet the exhibition also hints at their failures. Just as traditional shared apartments dissolve after graduation—and on RTL 2 someone leaves every two weeks—the collaboration of architectural collectives is sometimes temporary: the group Poor Boys Enterprise has since disbanded. In the exhibition, its former members present themselves with individual works.
— Matthias Dusini
- location:
- wien, austria
- architecture:
- fasch&fuchs.architekt:innen
- project partners:
- lukas schumacher
- construction completion:
- 2000