Schema of a collective dwelling:
the centralization and collectivization of the economic, cultural, and social factors of the dwelling process;
the reduction of the “apartment” to an individual living cell. One room for each adult person,
whose content (function) is a living room and a bedroom;
4) As will be shown in the following pages, we must distinguish between the concepts of dwelling and of lodging in any discussion on housing. Lodging—that is, passing the night and the concur-rent regeneration of energy—is a physiological function and thus a matter of biology: dwelling, on the other hand, is a process and an act of social nature. We interpret the term “dwelling” (abode, apartment) as a space, not only serving the biological functions of rest and protection from the rig-ors of the elements, but also linking these functions with certain economic, productive, and cul-tural factors. The Czech word byt [translated in this book as “dwelling,” “apartment,” “house,”
“lodging,” and “abode”] brings together under a single collective term all the contradictory func-tions of work and recreation, in specific but changeable combinafunc-tions of activity spaces, e.g., stor-age facilities and bedrooms: in German, these are called Wohn- und Werkraum [German in the original]. Specific historical dwelling forms vary according to the qualitative relationship of their work and recreational elements.
Dwelling is, therefore—by definition—a social act. In a class society, only the propertied ruling class can dwell in the full sense of this word. In capitalist societies, the notion of a proletarian dwelling is a contradiction, since the wage paid the workers by the capitalist covers only those ex-penses that are absolutely necessary to maintain the continuing productivity of its labor output, and it is in most cases inadequate for renting a real house. For the maintenance of labor produc-tivity, a lodging is considered by the capitalist to be sufficient.
it causes. A deeper understanding of this developmental dynamic will thus enable us to orient architectural creation toward a further elaboration of these processes, while the recognition of past evolutionary processes will enable us to anticipate and reflect on future development.
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It is not sufficient to trace the dialectic of the figurations of architectural form and dwelling without at the same time tracing the changes in their content. And, above all, it is necessary to explain what we mean by architectural form and content.5By “architectural content” we mean the organization of vital, individual and collective life processes, including industrial-type production facilities that will be installed in certain buildings, as well as the organization of the psychological processes of man, to the extent that the architecture of a building is capable of exerting an influence on them. The content of a dwelling is embodied in the bio-logical, social, and cultural needs of its inhabitants, including their spiritual and physical well-being and — ultimately — quality of life. Clearly, architectural content is not exclusively determined by this or that socioeconomic order, but also by the ruling ideology that deter-mines the character of these processes. The processes that determine the form of the feudal, bourgeois, and proletarian dwelling are each of a different character. Architectural form is a way of organizing constructed space that renders concrete a given content.
It is therefore also obvious that architectural form cannot be defined by this or that decorative ornamental “detail”; it needs to be perceived both organically and functionally, but never only decoratively. It is for these reasons that architectural form can never be separated from its
5) We remind the reader and emphasize that the usual distinctions made between content and form in architecture, painting, and literature are essentially anachronistic; they date back to the ide-alistic Inhaltsästhetik of an academically conceived, positivistic comprehension of form that nev-ertheless haunts vulgar Marxist interpretations of proletarian art. Such interpretations never succeed in penetrating below the surface of the subject and excuse their aversion to and ineptitude in analyzing the structure of a work of art and its laws by calling such an analysis “formal.” In his Logic, Hegel observed correctly that the form of an object is concomitant with its appear-ance only in a special, limited way: i.e., in the sense of its external form (in architecture this would be represented by facade, ornament, etc.). “A deeper analysis leads us to understand form as the law of the object, or expressed more succinctly, its structure” (in architecture this would be expressed by the floor plan) (Lenin and G. Plekhanov vs. Bozdanov).
A more profound understanding of what the superficial Marxist vulgarians and proponents of pro-letarian art call formalism in architecture and literature can be reached only by the deep study of the specific laws governing the evolution of architectural or literary form. For us, form is not equiv-alent with appearance or added decoration but represents existential form, i.e., the manner in which a certain object exists—i.e., the form without which a certain object or a certain process can-not manifest itself and exist. Of course, one should can-not confuse form with quality in all its mani-festations at each stage of its development: each level of development in architecture or literature (or, for that matter, any branch of the arts) naturally creates a new synthesis, its own new form of existence and its own new formal categories for house and city, novel or poem. However, a change of form cannot be inferred solely from qualitative change: change of a form and change of a qual-ity are not the same thing. Qualqual-ity concerns not only form but also its content. “Qualqual-ity is identical with the existence of objects in such a way that something ceases to be that which it is when it changes its quality, i.e., the quality of its content and form. Because of its quality an object is that which it is, and by changing its quality, it ceases to be that which it is” (Hegel). Because of its highly differentiated functions and its class content, a patrician hôtel particulier is what it is—namely, a luxurious dwelling form—because of its quality and its social character, and not exclusively its ar-chitectural form. At the moment it becomes nationalized and occupied by the proletariat, not only will its content change but its form as well. The mansion turns into a worker’s barracks and thus will require certain formal adaptations of its formal aspects.
class context merely by decorative means; changes in content and form both stimulate and in-fluence each other. Any architectural piece of work is an answer to the discrepancies between content and form, the formulation of its content, and, ultimately, the identification of form and content. “Organic nature is the only categorical example of the identity and indivisibil-ity of form and content. Morphological and physiological phenomena, form, and function pro-duce a mutual effect on each other. The differentiation of forms influences the differentiation of muscles, the skin, the epidermis, and so on, while the differentiation of things influences the differentiation of form in a similar manner” (Engels).
Architectural form, like any other form, is a complex function of many variable elements and is contingent on various other factors influencing form, such as changes induced by different content and a different environment. Furthermore, form as a multifaceted function is modified by means of both continuous and discontinuous changes: each era imposes its own laws on form. Qualitative changes in cubature, floor plan, and so on cause one form to change into an-other, thus not only changing its quality but eventually becoming subject to further changes, brought about by new content and obeying new principles. Quantitative change leads to a new quality of form; along with the process of the mutual influence that various factors exert on each other in relation to content (e.g., the individual household, or the disintegration of the family), each becomes the antithesis of its predecessor. Architectural form (like the forms of the organic world) is the result of the configuration and reciprocal interaction of various fac-tors that influence its inception and development, which gradually prepare the way for its ma-turity and perfection.
In their struggle for existence, the products of natural selection represent the most mature and most economical form of organic life, functioning not unlike the class struggle in human society. The gradual development of technology has placed nature more completely in the service of man: similarly, the material forms of human products, industrial goods, and archi-tectural works have come to resemble ever more closely natural forms, as they approach per-fection. Both mechanical and natural forms are subject to the same universal natural laws. “If nature had to create dishes and bottles as it creates eggs, these would be very similar to those created by man” (Ozenfant and Jeanneret). By such means does technical work arrive at the creation of norms and standards. Therefore, it is incumbent on us to discover the dynamics of these standards. As soon as the most useful, most utilitarian, and most economical type has been developed, the effect of the superstructure and the governing ideology exerting its in-fluence on this form grows. Subject to these inin-fluences, form begins to transcend its practical purpose: it was by such a process that form became decoration in historical styles and, if need be, was turned into a symbol and a tool of demagoguery. Today, we can see that the tradition of regarding form as decoration and symbol, magic force and fetish, is bound up with the psy-chology of the idle classes as a feudal anachronism, and that academic aestheticism, archi-tectural formalism, and monumentalism are virtual throwbacks to the feudal Middle Ages, when form was conceived as an end in itself, and when feelings of humility and submission to state and church authority were conjured up by impressing people with ostentatious splendor and pompous decoration.
As far as the ideological significance of architectural form is concerned, the influence of ar-chitectural form on psychic life is not immanent; it is complex and develops by depending on its practical, living, sociological meaning. Form cannot be analyzed in the abstract, in a class-less context outside history; it must be projected into the context of a concrete social setting.
During the feudal and early bourgeois periods, the ideological manifestations of architectural form (ornament and decoration) relied on outward appearances to dazzle the eye of the be-holder and awaken in the spectator the desired emotions, leading people to fall on their knees or, conversely, filling their heads with pride and vainglory. The ideological aspect of the new
architecture should not have the purpose of injecting the aesthetic traditions of the past with a new class content; its content instead should be the scientific organization and spatial ac-commodation of the contingencies of real life and contemporary production processes, gained by creating a concrete material base for the optimum development of new ways of life, which will reflect the ideology of the new class as well as actively create a new, practical “floor plan of life” so that new cultural forms and values can grow and mature.
Architectural form is not merely the result of this or that lifeless notion of “art,” or of passive reflection on the ideology of its class and its time; it is not a pathetic “expression” or “mani-festation” conceived as a monument dedicated to this or that something or somebody. It is an active force and an instrument, the concrete embodiment of working-class values, dwelling processes, and cultural aspirations, to be reformulated theoretically in their very essence and realized practically in a thorough reorganization of the floor plan in all architectural work. Ar-chitecture should never be satisfied with its form influencing progress and change by mere
“agitation,”—with relying, in other words, on the artifice of trying to influence the spirit of the masses solely on an emotional level. Surely the social role of architectural form cannot be ful-filled if its only goal is to become a “mighty voice” and a “clarion call,” or to “elate the masses and strengthen their will” (these are quotations from various manifestos and articles on pro-letarian architecture)—for equally surely, such declarations represent nothing other than calls to return to the fossilized, monstrous monumentalism of the past. Architecture’s social role can be expressed only by the forms of collectivized housing, the satisfaction of all of life’s es-sentials, the rationalization of the work environment, and relevant reforms of the floor plan.
Only by such means will architecture be able to become a major force in economic, social, and cultural work, and only by means of an adaptable functionalism will it be capable not only of meeting the essential daily needs of all the people but of further assisting in the discovery of new needs on a higher level of existence. This cannot be achieved by exterior decoration; it can be achieved only directly and actively, by creating new configurations and a new organi-zation of architectural form, which will open the way toward a better life and a context for ac-commodating higher cultural ways and values. The difference is this: the functionalists and constructivists view the house as an architectural form perfectly suited to its purpose, mean-ing that it succeeds in servmean-ing all necessary dwellmean-ing needs,6while at the same time striving
6) The emphasis on functionality must not be interpreted mechanically as some kind of narrow-minded utilitarianism and pragmatism. An exact functional solution should not be confused with something that satisfies given—if you will—atavistic and retrograde requirements, or that com-promises with respect to existing circumstances. Function and architectural program are not in themselves rigid and eternally fixed: rather, they represent a perspective that one may amplify and further enrich and define with greater precision. Architectural design should not merely realize building programs engendered by social needs. Consequently, design should not merely accom-modate the requirements of a given architectural program, but must be equally capable of reap-praising its content and formulating it with greater precision—i.e., revising its tasks, reevaluating and reformulating them more rigorously, while at the same time synthesizing and developing them. Any architectural program should not only implicitly satisfy “social commissions” but should also, in developing its brief, take a long-term view toward accommodating future social needs. To the extent that function and social needs determine an architectural solution, architec-ture also engenders new functions and awakens new needs. Complex functions, made real by ar-chitecture, demand that the architect act not only as a technical specialist but as a whole human being: this is why it is said that a modern architect must also be a sociologist, not just assuming responsibility for the needs of the present but also being aware of the revolutionary currents of our time, aside from being capable of actively stimulating the awakening of new and higher cultural needs, be they in the area of housing or in public life. In short, he must act with force and initiative, both of which encourage development.
to improve the general level of culture; the monumentalists and formalists, in contrast, seem to be content to merely ask which emotion they may be able to evoke in people with their de-signs.7The constructivists do not deny the potential force of psychological and emotional influences on architectural form, but they do not regard form as such as the primary and exclusive task of architectural design. Instead, they are convinced that architectural form can be developed only through a comprehensive synthetic realization that addresses both practi-cal and cultural needs, oriented toward future development and the satisfaction of these needs on all levels of architectural creation; by such means, they believe they will be able to have at the same time a positive emotional effect on the quality of life of the people. Beauty and emotional potency are the epiphenomena of any competently and efficiently organized building design, just as the soul is mirrored in the physiognomy of highly organized natural living matter. It is the way we view life and practice that is fundamental and most important in the way we view functionalism and constructivism.
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Recent discussions held in Moscow touched on one of the fundamental aspects of the modern architectural point of view, that is, the question of whether architecture is an art. The con-structivists deny out of hand that architecture ought to be considered an art, and consequently assert that in our day, architecture has ceased to be art. In contrast, their opponents hold that architecture — especially proletarian architecture — is and must be art, meaning the cre-ation of form. The author of this volume took the opportunity to expound on and substantively justify the constructivist point of view, drawing attention to Soviet discussions on this subject and adding a number of personal observations to the arguments, which were published in ex-tended form in the following books: Moderní architektura v Cˇeskoslovensku [Modern Archi-tecture in Czechoslovakia], Soveˇtská kultura [Soviet Culture], and K sociologii architektury [On the Sociology of Architecture].
It seems that the proponents of the view that “architecture is art” look at architectural devel-opment as an entirely art-historical and essentially nondialectical phenomenon. There was much talk about the existence of and the vital need for the unity of the fine arts; it was claimed that it is impossible to separate painting (frescoes!) and sculpture from architecture, that painting and sculpture can prosper only in conjunction with architecture, and that architec-ture, isolated from painting and sculparchitec-ture, would descend into self-complacent technological proficiency: it would lose its ideological function and be reduced to crass utilitarianism, as ev-idenced by American and west European bourgeois architecture . . . and so on . . . and so on. . . . All these objections by these art history pettifoggers are nothing new, and have been repeatedly refuted in the past. It is, therefore, with shocked surprise that we find such views still being printed in the Soviet journal Brigada khudozhnikov [Artist’s Brigade], one of the most important journals on Soviet art and the official mouthpiece of the Federation of So-viet Creative Artists. In essence, these proponents of a metaphysical view of architecture as
7) Mordvinov: “one of the tasks of contemporary architecture is its emotional impact on the masses. Architecture ought to be the expression of the grandeur and greatness of our era . . . it ought to organize the will to fight and the will to work . . .” and so on. Beneath the pathos of these words we find concealed the old metaphysics of architecture and the outdated concepts of past art-historical theories of architecture—not unlike the views expressed in Otto Schubert’s book
7) Mordvinov: “one of the tasks of contemporary architecture is its emotional impact on the masses. Architecture ought to be the expression of the grandeur and greatness of our era . . . it ought to organize the will to fight and the will to work . . .” and so on. Beneath the pathos of these words we find concealed the old metaphysics of architecture and the outdated concepts of past art-historical theories of architecture—not unlike the views expressed in Otto Schubert’s book