Tectonic Transgressions: September 2010

Monday 27 September 2010

Nordic Transgressions | Finland Day 2

Walking through Turku Cemetery one autumn morning, it became immediately apparent that the Finnish people have a pragmatic attitude towards death. In contrast to the grand Victorian gravestones that populate London's graveyards, the ones here were far more humble in appearance; blocks of stone carved only with names and dates in sans serif, along with the occasional simple cross. The Resurrection Chapel (Erik Bryggman, 1941) stands on a hill nestled in a small coppice of trees, beyond which an understated bell tower protrudes. Like the headstones surrounding it, the building itself is presenting in a matter-of-fact manner; the white monolith sits contentedly in its surroundings. The visual focus of the congregation is split between the low-key altar and timber crucifix ahead and unobstructed views of the surrounding woodland to the side.

A short distance away is The Chapel of the Holy Cross (Pekka Pitkanen, 1967); the concrete crematorium consists of a number of austere chapels of varying scales, each commanding views over the landscape. Perhaps of more interest here were the service areas, which were treated with the same architectural rigour as the more sacred spaces; although out-of-view from the mourners, the mortuary, furnace and urn rooms were rational and somewhat methodical in their organisation. The chimney from the furnace room expressed outside as though mediating between heaven and earth.

From there we headed for St. Henry's Ecumenical Art Chapel (Sanaksenaho Architects, 2005) which is unique in that - as the name suggests - it houses both a chapel and an art gallery. Again, the building is placed in the landscape; this time surmounting a rocky outcrop taking its form directly from the contours of the site. A series of laminated pine ribs form the structure, which can be likened to a whale clad in copper scales; implicit with connotations of Bible stories such as the feeding of the five thousand and Jonah and the whale. Upon entering the chapel, one moves towards the altar from darkness into light; in contrast to this a limited amount of light is admitted above the door, the spirit of which seems to linger between the beams. Again, the crucifix is understated suggesting a faith far removed from the ornamentation of Christian architecture in mainland Europe.

After a prompt visit to the Turun Sanomat Building (Alvar Aalto, 1930) and Turku Central Library (JKKM Architects, 2007), we left the city limits for the renowned Paimio Sanatorium (Alvar Aalto, 1933). Originally conceived as an infirmary for patients with tuberculosis, the building is now used a conventional hospital. Before the discovery of penicillin later in the twentieth century, the accepted treatment for tuberculosis patients was sunlight and fresh air; similarities can be drawn here with the Modern movement in that the top floor of the building rises above the tree canopy providing a generous sun deck where patients could be taken for treatment. The building is set away an appropriate distance from the forest edge so that shadows never fall on patients' bedrooms. For this project, Aalto designed the infamous Paimio armchair made from laminated plywood, which supposedly encouraged the correct posture for breathing effectively - something similar can be found at your local IKEA!