The House that Holl (and Rüssli) Built
For all their symbolic power and grand civic functions, D.C. buildings built in the last half century have hardly created much buzz in terms of architecture, due in part to Washington's reputation for staid and conservative design tastes.
On the occasion that a renowned contemporary designer finds a willing local patron, their scheme rarely makes it through National Capital Planning Commission review without serious revision or delay, as with Norman Foster's glass canopy finally under construction over the renovated Smithsonian American Art Museum's inner courtyard. More audacious designs, such as Frank Gehry’s Corcoran Gallery addition, can seldom piece together the necessary financial support and approvals to get past the drawing board. Rightly or wrongly, D.C.’s design overseers intensely guard the architectural character of the capital’s core, and that has kept the hot names in the design world — Hadid, Mayne, Leibskind, and others — working in New York, L.A., Europe, and elsewhere, to Post architecture critic Ben Forgey's eternal consternation.
This made last Saturday’s opening of the new Residence building at the Swiss Embassy in Woodley Park particularly noteworthy. A collaborative entry by New York’s Stephen Holl and Lucerne’s Rüssli Architects won a 2001 design competition to replace the outdated former residence on the same site.
The design is a radical departure from the context of Woodley Park’s stately apartment buildings and embassies, and makes a bold statement about Swiss minimalism and modernism, to some success and failure. The facades alternate between a textured charcoal-colored concrete and sandblasted structural glass, the contrast meant to evoke the whites and blacks of the snow-covered Alps. Unlike many design concepts based on esoteric constructs, the metaphor holds well here, down to the placid pool and gravel insets in the courtyard. The effect will be particularly striking for those strolling by at night; when lit from within, the translucent glass walls will reveal a variety of textures and opacities, which Holl likens to melting ice.
Fortunately, most embassy events occur at night when the building shines, but during the day the materials don't hold up to the same level of beauty. The frosted glass tends to look like cheap plexiglass from afar, while up close the textured concrete takes on the appearance of cheaply painted wood. The effect is a Monet gone wrong — a wonderful overall composition (that looks good in the right light), but deconstructs into a clashing mish-mash of materials upon close inspection.
The building's plan is cruciform – like the white cross of the Swiss flag – and plays off the angular main Embassy building nearby. However, one’s procession through the building is deliberately forced on the diagonal. From the off-center doors, through the double height entry hall, and onto the terrace overlooking the Washington Monument, Holl eschews the formal "static" symmetry of traditional civic buildings in favor of what he calls "dynamic symmetry." Diagonal paths take guests through several formal salons and gathering spaces on the main floor. The second level is accessed via a strikingly thin concrete stair edged by slender, sandblasted glass panels. At the top are the Ambassador’s apartment and a guest quarters, both tiny by the rest of the Residence’s generous proportions.
Somewhat smartly, the first floor was left essentially a blank slate. Color appears only on the occasional rug and the rotating artwork, much of which is loaned by the Swiss National Archives. In fact, when it comes to art, the Ambassador doesn't fool around. Instead of filling his house with a predictable sample from famous homegrown artists, he's turned his home into a contemporary gallery. During our visit, a woman with mermaid fins flopped around in the lobby, while two "statesmen" — empty suits with robotic skeletons — stood from their chairs, walked in a circle, and sat back down. (In a quaint nod to D.C., a catalog for Paul Klee's exhibit at the Phillips Collection sat on the table.)
But, while one can understand not wanting to paint the walls a chartreuse that would clash with everything, a completely blank slate doesn't seem quite right. The white walls in the lobby make the clever angles disappear, and the single painting in the stairwell, while colorful, only emphasizes the empty void stretching out along the rest of the wall. Modern architecture can be successful without being cold, and this just didn't get there.
Where the building succeeds is in its European-style sustainability, and is constructed to Swiss Minergie standards. (The architects estimated that it would be the equivalent of LEED Silver or Gold if the U.S. standard was used.) Swiss green design focuses primarily on technically sophisticated mechanical systems and a highly insulated building envelope, including a thick green roof — an idea that some American cities are finally starting to embrace. The standard used in the Residence is different than typical U.S. standard, which lags in energy efficiency, but pays more attention to land use and storm water management, owing to the detrimental affect of American sprawl. Instead, sustainability is the word at the Residence, and Al Gore would be proud. Though it must be said, for such a "green" house, the lack of nearly a single plant in the entire place, inside or out, was somewhat baffling (and only contributed to the coldness).
The end result is a hit and a miss. While the cold interior and the somewhat cheap looking exterior serve big blows, Holl and Rüssli's modern angles that take into account both Swiss culture and the Residence's specific location in north west D.C., not to mention the attention paid to conservation, go down a path worth continuing on in our architectural landscape. Take a look at the Swiss Embassy cultural events calendar, and check it out for yourself.
Written with, and all photos by Heather Goss. Other photos of the Residence on the Swiss Embassy Web site.