205TF – Muoto

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Aalto’s output is not great by American standards, but surely this is not a measure of great Architecture. Many American firms with large volumes of projects do the most mediocre work. Eliel Saarinen was a great architect because of one building, the Helsinki Terminal, conceived in 1906 as a link between the East and the West. Louis I. Kahn, born opposite Finland on the island of Ostel, is great because of his Richards Research Building — one building alone. As Wright once remarked, the touch of the master can be found equally in the design of a chicken coop as an opara house. Aalto prefers opera houses. Aalto is remarkable in that his clients are satisfied. The users of his designs praise his works. Far from assuming a great-man pose dictating a design from on high, he is first and foremost concerned with the human being that must occupy a hospital bed or climb stairs on crutches. He is concerned with door pulls that are awkward and scratch the hands, or the simple play of light, sound, or smell, the vista down a hall, or the landscape beyond. Aalto’s work falls into several classifications. As with most architects, he does many designs that remain in the project stage, but most have been constructed. Most of his projects are of a cultural or civic nature, but he has a keen interest in group housing. Paimio, near Turku, Finland, cited by Gideon as one of three institutional buildings linked to the rise of city architecture, is the competition prize that catapulted the young Aalto, then in practice with Erick Bryggman; into international fame. Located on a hilltop, the 290–patient main building is the center of a self-contained community in the midst of a forest. The six story wings, topped with a solarium, are a composition of cantilevered balconies. There is a purity of concrete form linked to such small but integral details as having three walls of each room being “hard” and one “soft”, with the walls painted of a soft indefinite tone and the ceiling a bit darker so as to be easier on the eyes of the bed-ridden patient, and the balance effected between natural and artificial lights in each patient area. The hand basin, for example, receives falling water at a slight angle to avoid undue splashing, and the door knobs are moulded to fit the hand more easily. The whole hospital is conceived for the physical needs of the patient and for the psychological effect of the environment. It is designed as an integral whole, to which each part is a necessary element. Even pine trees are planted in tubs along the balconies to soften the harsh lines. The Finn is appreciative of beauty in such minor details. In the New York Herald Tribune, June 30, 1960, Professor Aalto is quoted as saying, “I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.” Indeed, the only other private residences he has designed are his own residence in Munkkiniemi and that of Monsieur Carre at Bazoches, France, near Paris. Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonpl Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonplace in a casually deceptive manner. This house is located near Noormarkku, Finland. This was the only design commission accepted by Aalto during the war years when he served as Professor of Experimental Architecture at M.I.T., in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Indicative of this milestone is that Aalto places the elevation drawing of the Baker Dorm on the wall beside his work desk. Aalto returned after this design to Finland and for several years his best efforts went into planning and reconstruction during a “lean period.” Large architectural commissions were not to follow for some years. The Baker Dormitory stands in contrast to the other massive stone, classic monuments of the university like a “brutalistic snake,” but its concept is simply to utilize to the maximum the view of the Charles River. The library and lounge areas are reminiscent of the Viipuri Library in the spatial arrangement, the stairs, and the overhead light wells. The stark and somewhat brutal placing of the main staircase, enclosed but placed outside the main face of the wall, was an innovation of this post-war period. It has been said that the detailing and craftsmanship on this building suffered from the relatively high labor costs in machine-directed America in contrast to his other projects in Finland, Scandinavia, or Europe. As in most of Aalto’s key commissions, this was a competition award for Jyväskylä, the city in south central Finland where Aalto studied as a boy. It consists of approximately ten buildings, or units of buildings, linked together. This complex consists of everything from residence dormitories to the auditorium. This is a “university-type” college not often found in Finland, and is U-shaped in campus plan. The placing of the various buildings is in a subtle relationship, often on a slight angle to each other, emphasizing the hieratic effects as one walks up and down, over, and around, in an approach carefully studied for its casualness and simplicity. The amphitheater consists of stone blocks, rough hewn, arranged in arcs, facing the high wall of solid brick of the main building (a wall broken at several points, creating interesting shadow lines vertically, and of carefully selected brick colors that vary the tone). The overall effect is of a university acropolis, higher than the city, overlooking the valley and the long lake that ends nearby. Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest ecclesiastical design, as Säynätsalo, and it is only fitting that this masterpiece be located in a Finnish village in the backwoods rather than in the hubbub of a larger city. Instead of designing assembly areas adjacent to the sanctuary, the indian body can be divided into three independent areas, each with its own natural and artificial lighting and outside entrances. Only the choir section, with room for 250 persons, is used permanently as a sanctuary. On important occasions, nearly 1,000 persons can be accommodated by opening the sliding walls. Among the significant details to be noted are the slender bell tower that is as straight as the surrounding pine trees, the manner in which the mortuary ramp into the basement is shown on the elevation, the contrast to relatively window-less east elevation with the large double-sash windows on the west, the custom design of fixtures, and lastly, acoustical design. Acoustical trials with light rays were attempted before the final an undulating ceiling pattern was adopted. Aalto’s growing prestige has been the cause of several recent commissions in Germany, including this “foldhaus” in the “Volkswagen City.” Now under construction, only a few drawings and model photographs have been released, but upon completion much publicity will appear. It occupies a position alongside the central square of the town, and its dominant characteristic is the fan- shaped arrangement on the second floor containing five lecture halls of the “people’s high school.” The library features light wells and a custom skylight appears over a common room. Much of the structure is based on a repetitive module, but then at the appropriate point, the line becomes broken and turns into this remarkable fan outline. The facade will be of marble and glass; a large model recently appeared at the exhibition of Finnish architecture in Stockholm. This long range plan for the Centrum takes us ten to fifteen years into the future and links to the past city plans of Engel, Saarinen, and Krokstrom for the “most blueprinted city in the world.” The complex problems of rail and auto traffic, parking, government office space, urban renewal, cultural facilities, city de-centralization are solved in the Keskus, finished by Aalto in March and presented to the Finnish government and to the City of Helsinki. Photographs and drawings appear in the August, 1961, CASA BELLA. Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Töölö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Tölöö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at the lake’s end, in the sweep of an eye, the city of Aalto’s boyhood, the Teacher’s College on the hilltop, and not far away, the village of Säynätsalo at water’s edge, and Aalto’s summer home on the island. In a visit to Säynätsalo Town Hall, one can see “the touch of a Master in the forest.” It is unfortunate that architectural magazines have never done justice thus far to this project, perhaps because it is so far from Helsinki, though the Neuenschwander book devoted many pages to photographs, details, and plans. Seldom does one building seem to personify the life, aspirations, and talents of the master architect as much as this village civic center, the largest of six buildings Aalto proposed in his master plan for the area which is yet to be realized. As it stands alone, it has beauty. Once when a neon sign was erected that blocked the view, it was rumored that Aalto and friends staged a raiding party by night from nearby Murratsalo that destroyed the offending bit of commercialism. As in the Church of Imatra, Aalto has done his best work of its type in a small village in which he has become involved in the life and habits of the simple people who will use his design. Aalto has spent many vacations in sunny Italy, and come back inspired by the hill, piazzas of the small Italian towns. Säynätsalo is the first project in which he has used a raised mound as part of his design, thereby putting the courtyard on the “main” level, and relegating the business shops to the lower ground level where the bus stops. This design shows mastery of wood and stone, infinite care afforded to the smallest interior detail, and the overall integration of the design, within and without, to its environment. Aalto is quoted in TIME Magazine October 5, 1959, “I wanted to make it a town center, a building that would gather in people, so I put the garden inside, and then the inside is no longer neutral. I lifted the building up to make a vertical difference between the traffic in the street and the people meeting inside. The street is full of the gases from automobiles. We lift up the human being and put him in a better world.” How many wealthy American towns of 3,000 possess such a civic center with such careful planning and design? When first approaching the Town Hall through the pines, one is vaguely aware that this is a multilevel building of some complexity. There is obviously a row of commercial shops on the first level, owing to glass display windows, but curiosity is aroused as to the second floor of brick wall, punctuated by a continuous but varying fenestration covered with vertical stripes or blinds. Above and behind looms a curious box-like tower with a While many architects in the United States are clutching in the vacuum of leadership left by the death of Frank Lloyd Wright, few have thought to look outside our country. Instead they speak of Minoru Yamasaki, Edward D. Stone, Paul Rudolph and until recently of the late Eero Saarinen. However, a group of Scandinavians comes the closest in assuming the spirit of Wright because of their search for an honest expression in natural materials. Aalto is the foremost of this group of Finns, Norwegians and few Swedes. The rest of the world has gone mad with rational architecture of steel and glass boxes with endless repetitions of space cages, or they have gone to the other extreme by using silly chrome and tinsel twists and curves that are unrelated to the practical problems of the users. Why is this isolated Finnish architect, Alvar Aalto, a Master Architect? First, to understand Aalto, one must know the Finland he personifies, the national romantic movement from which he emerged, and the direction in which Finnish architecture is moving. His influence on the formation of “Scandinavian Modern”, its impact on the world of the early 30’s, and his continued leadership make him a Master Architect. The explanation for Aalto’s work can be found in his devotion to little Finland, his position as its most honored citizen, his assumed obligations during peace and war, and his past, present, and future projects, and the laboratory conditions under which he creates. It also explains why his greatest efforts are at home rather than overseas. As in the case of the other universalists, Aalto tries to be the total artist. To him, each problem demands a unique solution. He has no dogmatic philosophy to trap his freedom of movement. Aalto feels free to explore, and he finds his form of truth in Architecture. Because of the high esteem, the Finnish architect has power and freedom in dealing with his clients. They usually come with limited budgets and give the architect complete freedom to solve their problems and deal with the most practical solutions, and Aalto is a very practical man with details. He feels that no money should be spared on luxury items or mistakes in an economical society. If an architect wastes money, it is a scandal. Aalto refuses to lecture, write books, attend congresses, to self advertise or court publicity. Because of this privacy, he has the peace and solitude to concentrate on Architecture itself, not the fringe benefits. His vital energies and time are devoted to the “thing itself.” In Finland the creative artist, athlete, or intellectual, as in ancient Greece, is given a place of respect and honor. The militarist, business entrepreneur, or politician is not popular except during crises. For example, in Finland the Prime Minister calls upon Architect Aalto, not vice versa. In some respects the Finns treat Aalto as a living god, a position given in the past to Sibelius, Paavo Nurmi, and Marshal Mannerheim. Perhaps after Aalto, some of the designers such as Tapio Wirkkala, Ilmari Tapiovaara, or Timo Sarpaneva, or some Olympic hero in skiing will take his place. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Even until the German defeat during World War II, a German prince was considered as a possible Finnish monarch. This close influence was manifest in the number of Finns who attended German universities and who learned the German language. The two countries were also closely tied by trade contracts. With the outbreak of World War II, when Germany fought Russia through Finland and the Finnish soldiers were forced under the armistice to drive the Germans from Lapland, this exchange stopped. The fourth and current influence is Anglo-Saxon, American business and English culture. English replaced German as the third language, after Finnish and Swedish. Some say Finland has the oldest people and is the youngest nation of Europe, and America has the youngest people and the oldest government of the world. Not only does geography place Finland in an isolated position between east and west, but the Finnish people are solitary rather than gregarious by nature. The Finns, as the Hungarian and Baltic peoples, migrated out of Central Russia and found privacy in the northern forest and lake country. Since the language is one of the most difficult in the world, there are few translations of Finnish works and few foreign books are introduced from abroad. This isolation, the cross-neutralization of the four major foreign incluences, the geographical and sea barrier, the solitary nature of the people, and the language barrier have proved to be assets.Aalto’s output

Total Variable

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Aalto’s output is not great by American standards, but surely this is not a measure of great Architecture. Many American firms with large volumes of projects do the most mediocre work. Eliel Saarinen was a great architect because of one building, the Helsinki Terminal, conceived in 1906 as a link between the East and the West. Louis I. Kahn, born opposite Finland on the island of Ostel, is great because of his Richards Research Building — one building alone. As Wright once remarked, the touch of the master can be found equally in the design of a chicken coop as an opara house. Aalto prefers opera houses. Aalto is remarkable in that his clients are satisfied. The users of his designs praise his works. Far from assuming a great-man pose dictating a design from on high, he is first and foremost concerned with the human being that must occupy a hospital bed or climb stairs on crutches. He is concerned with door pulls that are awkward and scratch the hands, or the simple play of light, sound, or smell, the vista down a hall, or the landscape beyond. Aalto’s work falls into several classifications. As with most architects, he does many designs that remain in the project stage, but most have been constructed. Most of his projects are of a cultural or civic nature, but he has a keen interest in group housing. Paimio, near Turku, Finland, cited by Gideon as one of three institutional buildings linked to the rise of city architecture, is the competition prize that catapulted the young Aalto, then in practice with Erick Bryggman; into international fame. Located on a hilltop, the 290–patient main building is the center of a self-contained community in the midst of a forest. The six story wings, topped with a solarium, are a composition of cantilevered balconies. There is a purity of concrete form linked to such small but integral details as having three walls of each room being “hard” and one “soft”, with the walls painted of a soft indefinite tone and the ceiling a bit darker so as to be easier on the eyes of the bed-ridden patient, and the balance effected between natural and artificial lights in each patient area. The hand basin, for example, receives falling water at a slight angle to avoid undue splashing, and the door knobs are moulded to fit the hand more easily. The whole hospital is conceived for the physical needs of the patient and for the psychological effect of the environment. It is designed as an integral whole, to which each part is a necessary element. Even pine trees are planted in tubs along the balconies to soften the harsh lines. The Finn is appreciative of beauty in such minor details. In the New York Herald Tribune, June 30, 1960, Professor Aalto is quoted as saying, “I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.” Indeed, the only other private residences he has designed are his own residence in Munkkiniemi and that of Monsieur Carre at Bazoches, France, near Paris. Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonpl Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonplace in a casually deceptive manner. This house is located near Noormarkku, Finland. This was the only design commission accepted by Aalto during the war years when he served as Professor of Experimental Architecture at M.I.T., in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Indicative of this milestone is that Aalto places the elevation drawing of the Baker Dorm on the wall beside his work desk. Aalto returned after this design to Finland and for several years his best efforts went into planning and reconstruction during a “lean period.” Large architectural commissions were not to follow for some years. The Baker Dormitory stands in contrast to the other massive stone, classic monuments of the university like a “brutalistic snake,” but its concept is simply to utilize to the maximum the view of the Charles River. The library and lounge areas are reminiscent of the Viipuri Library in the spatial arrangement, the stairs, and the overhead light wells. The stark and somewhat brutal placing of the main staircase, enclosed but placed outside the main face of the wall, was an innovation of this post-war period. It has been said that the detailing and craftsmanship on this building suffered from the relatively high labor costs in machine-directed America in contrast to his other projects in Finland, Scandinavia, or Europe. As in most of Aalto’s key commissions, this was a competition award for Jyväskylä, the city in south central Finland where Aalto studied as a boy. It consists of approximately ten buildings, or units of buildings, linked together. This complex consists of everything from residence dormitories to the auditorium. This is a “university-type” college not often found in Finland, and is U-shaped in campus plan. The placing of the various buildings is in a subtle relationship, often on a slight angle to each other, emphasizing the hieratic effects as one walks up and down, over, and around, in an approach carefully studied for its casualness and simplicity. The amphitheater consists of stone blocks, rough hewn, arranged in arcs, facing the high wall of solid brick of the main building (a wall broken at several points, creating interesting shadow lines vertically, and of carefully selected brick colors that vary the tone). The overall effect is of a university acropolis, higher than the city, overlooking the valley and the long lake that ends nearby. Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest ecclesiastical design, as Säynätsalo, and it is only fitting that this masterpiece be located in a Finnish village in the backwoods rather than in the hubbub of a larger city. Instead of designing assembly areas adjacent to the sanctuary, the indian body can be divided into three independent areas, each with its own natural and artificial lighting and outside entrances. Only the choir section, with room for 250 persons, is used permanently as a sanctuary. On important occasions, nearly 1,000 persons can be accommodated by opening the sliding walls. Among the significant details to be noted are the slender bell tower that is as straight as the surrounding pine trees, the manner in which the mortuary ramp into the basement is shown on the elevation, the contrast to relatively window-less east elevation with the large double-sash windows on the west, the custom design of fixtures, and lastly, acoustical design. Acoustical trials with light rays were attempted before the final an undulating ceiling pattern was adopted. Aalto’s growing prestige has been the cause of several recent commissions in Germany, including this “foldhaus” in the “Volkswagen City.” Now under construction, only a few drawings and model photographs have been released, but upon completion much publicity will appear. It occupies a position alongside the central square of the town, and its dominant characteristic is the fan- shaped arrangement on the second floor containing five lecture halls of the “people’s high school.” The library features light wells and a custom skylight appears over a common room. Much of the structure is based on a repetitive module, but then at the appropriate point, the line becomes broken and turns into this remarkable fan outline. The facade will be of marble and glass; a large model recently appeared at the exhibition of Finnish architecture in Stockholm. This long range plan for the Centrum takes us ten to fifteen years into the future and links to the past city plans of Engel, Saarinen, and Krokstrom for the “most blueprinted city in the world.” The complex problems of rail and auto traffic, parking, government office space, urban renewal, cultural facilities, city de-centralization are solved in the Keskus, finished by Aalto in March and presented to the Finnish government and to the City of Helsinki. Photographs and drawings appear in the August, 1961, CASA BELLA. Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Töölö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Tölöö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at the lake’s end, in the sweep of an eye, the city of Aalto’s boyhood, the Teacher’s College on the hilltop, and not far away, the village of Säynätsalo at water’s edge, and Aalto’s summer home on the island. In a visit to Säynätsalo Town Hall, one can see “the touch of a Master in the forest.” It is unfortunate that architectural magazines have never done justice thus far to this project, perhaps because it is so far from Helsinki, though the Neuenschwander book devoted many pages to photographs, details, and plans. Seldom does one building seem to personify the life, aspirations, and talents of the master architect as much as this village civic center, the largest of six buildings Aalto proposed in his master plan for the area which is yet to be realized. As it stands alone, it has beauty. Once when a neon sign was erected that blocked the view, it was rumored that Aalto and friends staged a raiding party by night from nearby Murratsalo that destroyed the offending bit of commercialism. As in the Church of Imatra, Aalto has done his best work of its type in a small village in which he has become involved in the life and habits of the simple people who will use his design. Aalto has spent many vacations in sunny Italy, and come back inspired by the hill, piazzas of the small Italian towns. Säynätsalo is the first project in which he has used a raised mound as part of his design, thereby putting the courtyard on the “main” level, and relegating the business shops to the lower ground level where the bus stops. This design shows mastery of wood and stone, infinite care afforded to the smallest interior detail, and the overall integration of the design, within and without, to its environment. Aalto is quoted in TIME Magazine October 5, 1959, “I wanted to make it a town center, a building that would gather in people, so I put the garden inside, and then the inside is no longer neutral. I lifted the building up to make a vertical difference between the traffic in the street and the people meeting inside. The street is full of the gases from automobiles. We lift up the human being and put him in a better world.” How many wealthy American towns of 3,000 possess such a civic center with such careful planning and design? When first approaching the Town Hall through the pines, one is vaguely aware that this is a multilevel building of some complexity. There is obviously a row of commercial shops on the first level, owing to glass display windows, but curiosity is aroused as to the second floor of brick wall, punctuated by a continuous but varying fenestration covered with vertical stripes or blinds. Above and behind looms a curious box-like tower with a While many architects in the United States are clutching in the vacuum of leadership left by the death of Frank Lloyd Wright, few have thought to look outside our country. Instead they speak of Minoru Yamasaki, Edward D. Stone, Paul Rudolph and until recently of the late Eero Saarinen. However, a group of Scandinavians comes the closest in assuming the spirit of Wright because of their search for an honest expression in natural materials. Aalto is the foremost of this group of Finns, Norwegians and few Swedes. The rest of the world has gone mad with rational architecture of steel and glass boxes with endless repetitions of space cages, or they have gone to the other extreme by using silly chrome and tinsel twists and curves that are unrelated to the practical problems of the users. Why is this isolated Finnish architect, Alvar Aalto, a Master Architect? First, to understand Aalto, one must know the Finland he personifies, the national romantic movement from which he emerged, and the direction in which Finnish architecture is moving. His influence on the formation of “Scandinavian Modern”, its impact on the world of the early 30’s, and his continued leadership make him a Master Architect. The explanation for Aalto’s work can be found in his devotion to little Finland, his position as its most honored citizen, his assumed obligations during peace and war, and his past, present, and future projects, and the laboratory conditions under which he creates. It also explains why his greatest efforts are at home rather than overseas. As in the case of the other universalists, Aalto tries to be the total artist. To him, each problem demands a unique solution. He has no dogmatic philosophy to trap his freedom of movement. Aalto feels free to explore, and he finds his form of truth in Architecture. Because of the high esteem, the Finnish architect has power and freedom in dealing with his clients. They usually come with limited budgets and give the architect complete freedom to solve their problems and deal with the most practical solutions, and Aalto is a very practical man with details. He feels that no money should be spared on luxury items or mistakes in an economical society. If an architect wastes money, it is a scandal. Aalto refuses to lecture, write books, attend congresses, to self advertise or court publicity. Because of this privacy, he has the peace and solitude to concentrate on Architecture itself, not the fringe benefits. His vital energies and time are devoted to the “thing itself.” In Finland the creative artist, athlete, or intellectual, as in ancient Greece, is given a place of respect and honor. The militarist, business entrepreneur, or politician is not popular except during crises. For example, in Finland the Prime Minister calls upon Architect Aalto, not vice versa. In some respects the Finns treat Aalto as a living god, a position given in the past to Sibelius, Paavo Nurmi, and Marshal Mannerheim. Perhaps after Aalto, some of the designers such as Tapio Wirkkala, Ilmari Tapiovaara, or Timo Sarpaneva, or some Olympic hero in skiing will take his place. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Even until the German defeat during World War II, a German prince was considered as a possible Finnish monarch. This close influence was manifest in the number of Finns who attended German universities and who learned the German language. The two countries were also closely tied by trade contracts. With the outbreak of World War II, when Germany fought Russia through Finland and the Finnish soldiers were forced under the armistice to drive the Germans from Lapland, this exchange stopped. The fourth and current influence is Anglo-Saxon, American business and English culture. English replaced German as the third language, after Finnish and Swedish. Some say Finland has the oldest people and is the youngest nation of Europe, and America has the youngest people and the oldest government of the world. Not only does geography place Finland in an isolated position between east and west, but the Finnish people are solitary rather than gregarious by nature. The Finns, as the Hungarian and Baltic peoples, migrated out of Central Russia and found privacy in the northern forest and lake country. Since the language is one of the most difficult in the world, there are few translations of Finnish works and few foreign books are introduced from abroad. This isolation, the cross-neutralization of the four major foreign incluences, the geographical and sea barrier, the solitary nature of the people, and the language barrier have proved to be assets.Aalto’s output

Total Variable

Sample

American Standards is not great by American standards, but surely this is not a measure of great Architecture. Many American firms with large volumes of projects do the most mediocre work. Eliel Saarinen was a great architect because of one building, the Helsinki Terminal, conceived in 1906 as a link between the East and the West. Louis I. Kahn, born opposite Finland on the island of Ostel, is great because of his Richards Research Building — one building alone. As Wright once remarked, the touch of the master can be found equally in the design of a chicken coop as an opara house. Aalto prefers opera houses. Aalto is remarkable in that his clients are satisfied. The users of his designs praise his works. Far from assuming a great-man pose dictating a design from on high, he is first and foremost concerned with the human being that must occupy a hospital bed or climb stairs on crutches. He is concerned with door pulls that are awkward and scratch the hands, or the simple play of light, sound, or smell, the vista down a hall, or the landscape beyond. Aalto’s work falls into several classifications. As with most architects, he does many designs that remain in the project stage, but most have been constructed. Most of his projects are of a cultural or civic nature, but he has a keen interest in group housing. Paimio, near Turku, Finland, cited by Gideon as one of three institutional buildings linked to the rise of city architecture, is the competition prize that catapulted the young Aalto, then in practice with Erick Bryggman; into international fame. Located on a hilltop, the 290–patient main building is the center of a self-contained community in the midst of a forest. The six story wings, topped with a solarium, are a composition of cantilevered balconies. There is a purity of concrete form linked to such small but integral details as having three walls of each room being “hard” and one “soft”, with the walls painted of a soft indefinite tone and the ceiling a bit darker so as to be easier on the eyes of the bed-ridden patient, and the balance effected between natural and artificial lights in each patient area. The hand basin, for example, receives falling water at a slight angle to avoid undue splashing, and the door knobs are moulded to fit the hand more easily. The whole hospital is conceived for the physical needs of the patient and for the psychological effect of the environment. It is designed as an integral whole, to which each part is a necessary element. Even pine trees are planted in tubs along the balconies to soften the harsh lines. The Finn is appreciative of beauty in such minor details. In the New York Herald Tribune, June 30, 1960, Professor Aalto is quoted as saying, “I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.” Indeed, the only other private residences he has designed are his own residence in Munkkiniemi and that of Monsieur Carre at Bazoches, France, near Paris. Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonpl Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonplace in a casually deceptive manner. This house is located near Noormarkku, Finland. This was the only design commission accepted by Aalto during the war years when he served as Professor of Experimental Architecture at M.I.T., in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Indicative of this milestone is that Aalto places the elevation drawing of the Baker Dorm on the wall beside his work desk. Aalto returned after this design to Finland and for several years his best efforts went into planning and reconstruction during a “lean period.” Large architectural commissions were not to follow for some years. The Baker Dormitory stands in contrast to the other massive stone, classic monuments of the university like a “brutalistic snake,” but its concept is simply to utilize to the maximum the view of the Charles River. The library and lounge areas are reminiscent of the Viipuri Library in the spatial arrangement, the stairs, and the overhead light wells. The stark and somewhat brutal placing of the main staircase, enclosed but placed outside the main face of the wall, was an innovation of this post-war period. It has been said that the detailing and craftsmanship on this building suffered from the relatively high labor costs in machine-directed America in contrast to his other projects in Finland, Scandinavia, or Europe. As in most of Aalto’s key commissions, this was a competition award for Jyväskylä, the city in south central Finland where Aalto studied as a boy. It consists of approximately ten buildings, or units of buildings, linked together. This complex consists of everything from residence dormitories to the auditorium. This is a “university-type” college not often found in Finland, and is U-shaped in campus plan. The placing of the various buildings is in a subtle relationship, often on a slight angle to each other, emphasizing the hieratic effects as one walks up and down, over, and around, in an approach carefully studied for its casualness and simplicity. The amphitheater consists of stone blocks, rough hewn, arranged in arcs, facing the high wall of solid brick of the main building (a wall broken at several points, creating interesting shadow lines vertically, and of carefully selected brick colors that vary the tone). The overall effect is of a university acropolis, higher than the city, overlooking the valley and the long lake that ends nearby. Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest ecclesiastical design, as Säynätsalo, and it is only fitting that this masterpiece be located in a Finnish village in the backwoods rather than in the hubbub of a larger city. Instead of designing assembly areas adjacent to the sanctuary, the indian body can be divided into three independent areas, each with its own natural and artificial lighting and outside entrances. Only the choir section, with room for 250 persons, is used permanently as a sanctuary. On important occasions, nearly 1,000 persons can be accommodated by opening the sliding walls. Among the significant details to be noted are the slender bell tower that is as straight as the surrounding pine trees, the manner in which the mortuary ramp into the basement is shown on the elevation, the contrast to relatively window-less east elevation with the large double-sash windows on the west, the custom design of fixtures, and lastly, acoustical design. Acoustical trials with light rays were attempted before the final an undulating ceiling pattern was adopted. Aalto’s growing prestige has been the cause of several recent commissions in Germany, including this “foldhaus” in the “Volkswagen City.” Now under construction, only a few drawings and model photographs have been released, but upon completion much publicity will appear. It occupies a position alongside the central square of the town, and its dominant characteristic is the fan- shaped arrangement on the second floor containing five lecture halls of the “people’s high school.” The library features light wells and a custom skylight appears over a common room. Much of the structure is based on a repetitive module, but then at the appropriate point, the line becomes broken and turns into this remarkable fan outline. The facade will be of marble and glass; a large model recently appeared at the exhibition of Finnish architecture in Stockholm. This long range plan for the Centrum takes us ten to fifteen years into the future and links to the past city plans of Engel, Saarinen, and Krokstrom for the “most blueprinted city in the world.” The complex problems of rail and auto traffic, parking, government office space, urban renewal, cultural facilities, city de-centralization are solved in the Keskus, finished by Aalto in March and presented to the Finnish government and to the City of Helsinki. Photographs and drawings appear in the August, 1961, CASA BELLA. Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Töölö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Tölöö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at the lake’s end, in the sweep of an eye, the city of Aalto’s boyhood, the Teacher’s College on the hilltop, and not far away, the village of Säynätsalo at water’s edge, and Aalto’s summer home on the island. In a visit to Säynätsalo Town Hall, one can see “the touch of a Master in the forest.” It is unfortunate that architectural magazines have never done justice thus far to this project, perhaps because it is so far from Helsinki, though the Neuenschwander book devoted many pages to photographs, details, and plans. Seldom does one building seem to personify the life, aspirations, and talents of the master architect as much as this village civic center, the largest of six buildings Aalto proposed in his master plan for the area which is yet to be realized. As it stands alone, it has beauty. Once when a neon sign was erected that blocked the view, it was rumored that Aalto and friends staged a raiding party by night from nearby Murratsalo that destroyed the offending bit of commercialism. As in the Church of Imatra, Aalto has done his best work of its type in a small village in which he has become involved in the life and habits of the simple people who will use his design. Aalto has spent many vacations in sunny Italy, and come back inspired by the hill, piazzas of the small Italian towns. Säynätsalo is the first project in which he has used a raised mound as part of his design, thereby putting the courtyard on the “main” level, and relegating the business shops to the lower ground level where the bus stops. This design shows mastery of wood and stone, infinite care afforded to the smallest interior detail, and the overall integration of the design, within and without, to its environment. Aalto is quoted in TIME Magazine October 5, 1959, “I wanted to make it a town center, a building that would gather in people, so I put the garden inside, and then the inside is no longer neutral. I lifted the building up to make a vertical difference between the traffic in the street and the people meeting inside. The street is full of the gases from automobiles. We lift up the human being and put him in a better world.” How many wealthy American towns of 3,000 possess such a civic center with such careful planning and design? When first approaching the Town Hall through the pines, one is vaguely aware that this is a multilevel building of some complexity. There is obviously a row of commercial shops on the first level, owing to glass display windows, but curiosity is aroused as to the second floor of brick wall, punctuated by a continuous but varying fenestration covered with vertical stripes or blinds. Above and behind looms a curious box-like tower with a While many architects in the United States are clutching in the vacuum of leadership left by the death of Frank Lloyd Wright, few have thought to look outside our country. Instead they speak of Minoru Yamasaki, Edward D. Stone, Paul Rudolph and until recently of the late Eero Saarinen. However, a group of Scandinavians comes the closest in assuming the spirit of Wright because of their search for an honest expression in natural materials. Aalto is the foremost of this group of Finns, Norwegians and few Swedes. The rest of the world has gone mad with rational architecture of steel and glass boxes with endless repetitions of space cages, or they have gone to the other extreme by using silly chrome and tinsel twists and curves that are unrelated to the practical problems of the users. Why is this isolated Finnish architect, Alvar Aalto, a Master Architect? First, to understand Aalto, one must know the Finland he personifies, the national romantic movement from which he emerged, and the direction in which Finnish architecture is moving. His influence on the formation of “Scandinavian Modern”, its impact on the world of the early 30’s, and his continued leadership make him a Master Architect. The explanation for Aalto’s work can be found in his devotion to little Finland, his position as its most honored citizen, his assumed obligations during peace and war, and his past, present, and future projects, and the laboratory conditions under which he creates. It also explains why his greatest efforts are at home rather than overseas. As in the case of the other universalists, Aalto tries to be the total artist. To him, each problem demands a unique solution. He has no dogmatic philosophy to trap his freedom of movement. Aalto feels free to explore, and he finds his form of truth in Architecture. Because of the high esteem, the Finnish architect has power and freedom in dealing with his clients. They usually come with limited budgets and give the architect complete freedom to solve their problems and deal with the most practical solutions, and Aalto is a very practical man with details. He feels that no money should be spared on luxury items or mistakes in an economical society. If an architect wastes money, it is a scandal. Aalto refuses to lecture, write books, attend congresses, to self advertise or court publicity. Because of this privacy, he has the peace and solitude to concentrate on Architecture itself, not the fringe benefits. His vital energies and time are devoted to the “thing itself.” In Finland the creative artist, athlete, or intellectual, as in ancient Greece, is given a place of respect and honor. The militarist, business entrepreneur, or politician is not popular except during crises. For example, in Finland the Prime Minister calls upon Architect Aalto, not vice versa. In some respects the Finns treat Aalto as a living god, a position given in the past to Sibelius, Paavo Nurmi, and Marshal Mannerheim. Perhaps after Aalto, some of the designers such as Tapio Wirkkala, Ilmari Tapiovaara, or Timo Sarpaneva, or some Olympic hero in skiing will take his place. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Even until the German defeat during World War II, a German prince was considered as a possible Finnish monarch. This close influence was manifest in the number of Finns who attended German universities and who learned the German language. The two countries were also closely tied by trade contracts. With the outbreak of World War II, when Germany fought Russia through Finland and the Finnish soldiers were forced under the armistice to drive the Germans from Lapland, this exchange stopped. The fourth and current influence is Anglo-Saxon, American business and English culture. English replaced German as the third language, after Finnish and Swedish. Some say Finland has the oldest people and is the youngest nation of Europe, and America has the youngest people and the oldest government of the world. Not only does geography place Finland in an isolated position between east and west, but the Finnish people are solitary rather than gregarious by nature. The Finns, as the Hungarian and Baltic peoples, migrated out of Central Russia and found privacy in the northern forest and lake country. Since the language is one of the most difficult in the world, there are few translations of Finnish works and few foreign books are introduced from abroad. This isolation, the cross-neutralization of the four major foreign incluences, the geographical and sea barrier, the solitary nature of the people, and the language barrier have proved to be assets.American Standards

Total Variable It.

Sample

New York Herald is not great by American standards, but surely this is not a measure of great Architecture. Many American firms with large volumes of projects do the most mediocre work. Eliel Saarinen was a great architect because of one building, the Helsinki Terminal, conceived in 1906 as a link between the East and the West. Louis I. Kahn, born opposite Finland on the island of Ostel, is great because of his Richards Research Building — one building alone. As Wright once remarked, the touch of the master can be found equally in the design of a chicken coop as an opara house. Aalto prefers opera houses. Aalto is remarkable in that his clients are satisfied. The users of his designs praise his works. Far from assuming a great-man pose dictating a design from on high, he is first and foremost concerned with the human being that must occupy a hospital bed or climb stairs on crutches. He is concerned with door pulls that are awkward and scratch the hands, or the simple play of light, sound, or smell, the vista down a hall, or the landscape beyond. Aalto’s work falls into several classifications. As with most architects, he does many designs that remain in the project stage, but most have been constructed. Most of his projects are of a cultural or civic nature, but he has a keen interest in group housing. Paimio, near Turku, Finland, cited by Gideon as one of three institutional buildings linked to the rise of city architecture, is the competition prize that catapulted the young Aalto, then in practice with Erick Bryggman; into international fame. Located on a hilltop, the 290–patient main building is the center of a self-contained community in the midst of a forest. The six story wings, topped with a solarium, are a composition of cantilevered balconies. There is a purity of concrete form linked to such small but integral details as having three walls of each room being “hard” and one “soft”, with the walls painted of a soft indefinite tone and the ceiling a bit darker so as to be easier on the eyes of the bed-ridden patient, and the balance effected between natural and artificial lights in each patient area. The hand basin, for example, receives falling water at a slight angle to avoid undue splashing, and the door knobs are moulded to fit the hand more easily. The whole hospital is conceived for the physical needs of the patient and for the psychological effect of the environment. It is designed as an integral whole, to which each part is a necessary element. Even pine trees are planted in tubs along the balconies to soften the harsh lines. The Finn is appreciative of beauty in such minor details. In the New York Herald Tribune, June 30, 1960, Professor Aalto is quoted as saying, “I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.” Indeed, the only other private residences he has designed are his own residence in Munkkiniemi and that of Monsieur Carre at Bazoches, France, near Paris. Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonpl Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonplace in a casually deceptive manner. This house is located near Noormarkku, Finland. This was the only design commission accepted by Aalto during the war years when he served as Professor of Experimental Architecture at M.I.T., in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Indicative of this milestone is that Aalto places the elevation drawing of the Baker Dorm on the wall beside his work desk. Aalto returned after this design to Finland and for several years his best efforts went into planning and reconstruction during a “lean period.” Large architectural commissions were not to follow for some years. The Baker Dormitory stands in contrast to the other massive stone, classic monuments of the university like a “brutalistic snake,” but its concept is simply to utilize to the maximum the view of the Charles River. The library and lounge areas are reminiscent of the Viipuri Library in the spatial arrangement, the stairs, and the overhead light wells. The stark and somewhat brutal placing of the main staircase, enclosed but placed outside the main face of the wall, was an innovation of this post-war period. It has been said that the detailing and craftsmanship on this building suffered from the relatively high labor costs in machine-directed America in contrast to his other projects in Finland, Scandinavia, or Europe. As in most of Aalto’s key commissions, this was a competition award for Jyväskylä, the city in south central Finland where Aalto studied as a boy. It consists of approximately ten buildings, or units of buildings, linked together. This complex consists of everything from residence dormitories to the auditorium. This is a “university-type” college not often found in Finland, and is U-shaped in campus plan. The placing of the various buildings is in a subtle relationship, often on a slight angle to each other, emphasizing the hieratic effects as one walks up and down, over, and around, in an approach carefully studied for its casualness and simplicity. The amphitheater consists of stone blocks, rough hewn, arranged in arcs, facing the high wall of solid brick of the main building (a wall broken at several points, creating interesting shadow lines vertically, and of carefully selected brick colors that vary the tone). The overall effect is of a university acropolis, higher than the city, overlooking the valley and the long lake that ends nearby. Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest ecclesiastical design, as Säynätsalo, and it is only fitting that this masterpiece be located in a Finnish village in the backwoods rather than in the hubbub of a larger city. Instead of designing assembly areas adjacent to the sanctuary, the indian body can be divided into three independent areas, each with its own natural and artificial lighting and outside entrances. Only the choir section, with room for 250 persons, is used permanently as a sanctuary. On important occasions, nearly 1,000 persons can be accommodated by opening the sliding walls. Among the significant details to be noted are the slender bell tower that is as straight as the surrounding pine trees, the manner in which the mortuary ramp into the basement is shown on the elevation, the contrast to relatively window-less east elevation with the large double-sash windows on the west, the custom design of fixtures, and lastly, acoustical design. Acoustical trials with light rays were attempted before the final an undulating ceiling pattern was adopted. Aalto’s growing prestige has been the cause of several recent commissions in Germany, including this “foldhaus” in the “Volkswagen City.” Now under construction, only a few drawings and model photographs have been released, but upon completion much publicity will appear. It occupies a position alongside the central square of the town, and its dominant characteristic is the fan- shaped arrangement on the second floor containing five lecture halls of the “people’s high school.” The library features light wells and a custom skylight appears over a common room. Much of the structure is based on a repetitive module, but then at the appropriate point, the line becomes broken and turns into this remarkable fan outline. The facade will be of marble and glass; a large model recently appeared at the exhibition of Finnish architecture in Stockholm. This long range plan for the Centrum takes us ten to fifteen years into the future and links to the past city plans of Engel, Saarinen, and Krokstrom for the “most blueprinted city in the world.” The complex problems of rail and auto traffic, parking, government office space, urban renewal, cultural facilities, city de-centralization are solved in the Keskus, finished by Aalto in March and presented to the Finnish government and to the City of Helsinki. Photographs and drawings appear in the August, 1961, CASA BELLA. Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Töölö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Tölöö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at the lake’s end, in the sweep of an eye, the city of Aalto’s boyhood, the Teacher’s College on the hilltop, and not far away, the village of Säynätsalo at water’s edge, and Aalto’s summer home on the island. In a visit to Säynätsalo Town Hall, one can see “the touch of a Master in the forest.” It is unfortunate that architectural magazines have never done justice thus far to this project, perhaps because it is so far from Helsinki, though the Neuenschwander book devoted many pages to photographs, details, and plans. Seldom does one building seem to personify the life, aspirations, and talents of the master architect as much as this village civic center, the largest of six buildings Aalto proposed in his master plan for the area which is yet to be realized. As it stands alone, it has beauty. Once when a neon sign was erected that blocked the view, it was rumored that Aalto and friends staged a raiding party by night from nearby Murratsalo that destroyed the offending bit of commercialism. As in the Church of Imatra, Aalto has done his best work of its type in a small village in which he has become involved in the life and habits of the simple people who will use his design. Aalto has spent many vacations in sunny Italy, and come back inspired by the hill, piazzas of the small Italian towns. Säynätsalo is the first project in which he has used a raised mound as part of his design, thereby putting the courtyard on the “main” level, and relegating the business shops to the lower ground level where the bus stops. This design shows mastery of wood and stone, infinite care afforded to the smallest interior detail, and the overall integration of the design, within and without, to its environment. Aalto is quoted in TIME Magazine October 5, 1959, “I wanted to make it a town center, a building that would gather in people, so I put the garden inside, and then the inside is no longer neutral. I lifted the building up to make a vertical difference between the traffic in the street and the people meeting inside. The street is full of the gases from automobiles. We lift up the human being and put him in a better world.” How many wealthy American towns of 3,000 possess such a civic center with such careful planning and design? When first approaching the Town Hall through the pines, one is vaguely aware that this is a multilevel building of some complexity. There is obviously a row of commercial shops on the first level, owing to glass display windows, but curiosity is aroused as to the second floor of brick wall, punctuated by a continuous but varying fenestration covered with vertical stripes or blinds. Above and behind looms a curious box-like tower with a While many architects in the United States are clutching in the vacuum of leadership left by the death of Frank Lloyd Wright, few have thought to look outside our country. Instead they speak of Minoru Yamasaki, Edward D. Stone, Paul Rudolph and until recently of the late Eero Saarinen. However, a group of Scandinavians comes the closest in assuming the spirit of Wright because of their search for an honest expression in natural materials. Aalto is the foremost of this group of Finns, Norwegians and few Swedes. The rest of the world has gone mad with rational architecture of steel and glass boxes with endless repetitions of space cages, or they have gone to the other extreme by using silly chrome and tinsel twists and curves that are unrelated to the practical problems of the users. Why is this isolated Finnish architect, Alvar Aalto, a Master Architect? First, to understand Aalto, one must know the Finland he personifies, the national romantic movement from which he emerged, and the direction in which Finnish architecture is moving. His influence on the formation of “Scandinavian Modern”, its impact on the world of the early 30’s, and his continued leadership make him a Master Architect. The explanation for Aalto’s work can be found in his devotion to little Finland, his position as its most honored citizen, his assumed obligations during peace and war, and his past, present, and future projects, and the laboratory conditions under which he creates. It also explains why his greatest efforts are at home rather than overseas. As in the case of the other universalists, Aalto tries to be the total artist. To him, each problem demands a unique solution. He has no dogmatic philosophy to trap his freedom of movement. Aalto feels free to explore, and he finds his form of truth in Architecture. Because of the high esteem, the Finnish architect has power and freedom in dealing with his clients. They usually come with limited budgets and give the architect complete freedom to solve their problems and deal with the most practical solutions, and Aalto is a very practical man with details. He feels that no money should be spared on luxury items or mistakes in an economical society. If an architect wastes money, it is a scandal. Aalto refuses to lecture, write books, attend congresses, to self advertise or court publicity. Because of this privacy, he has the peace and solitude to concentrate on Architecture itself, not the fringe benefits. His vital energies and time are devoted to the “thing itself.” In Finland the creative artist, athlete, or intellectual, as in ancient Greece, is given a place of respect and honor. The militarist, business entrepreneur, or politician is not popular except during crises. For example, in Finland the Prime Minister calls upon Architect Aalto, not vice versa. In some respects the Finns treat Aalto as a living god, a position given in the past to Sibelius, Paavo Nurmi, and Marshal Mannerheim. Perhaps after Aalto, some of the designers such as Tapio Wirkkala, Ilmari Tapiovaara, or Timo Sarpaneva, or some Olympic hero in skiing will take his place. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Even until the German defeat during World War II, a German prince was considered as a possible Finnish monarch. This close influence was manifest in the number of Finns who attended German universities and who learned the German language. The two countries were also closely tied by trade contracts. With the outbreak of World War II, when Germany fought Russia through Finland and the Finnish soldiers were forced under the armistice to drive the Germans from Lapland, this exchange stopped. The fourth and current influence is Anglo-Saxon, American business and English culture. English replaced German as the third language, after Finnish and Swedish. Some say Finland has the oldest people and is the youngest nation of Europe, and America has the youngest people and the oldest government of the world. Not only does geography place Finland in an isolated position between east and west, but the Finnish people are solitary rather than gregarious by nature. The Finns, as the Hungarian and Baltic peoples, migrated out of Central Russia and found privacy in the northern forest and lake country. Since the language is one of the most difficult in the world, there are few translations of Finnish works and few foreign books are introduced from abroad. This isolation, the cross-neutralization of the four major foreign incluences, the geographical and sea barrier, the solitary nature of the people, and the language barrier have proved to be assets.New York Herald

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Aalto’s output is not great by American standards, but surely this is not a measure of great Architecture. Many American firms with large volumes of projects do the most mediocre work. Eliel Saarinen was a great architect because of one building, the Helsinki Terminal, conceived in 1906 as a link between the East and the West. Louis I. Kahn, born opposite Finland on the island of Ostel, is great because of his Richards Research Building — one building alone. As Wright once remarked, the touch of the master can be found equally in the design of a chicken coop as an opara house. Aalto prefers opera houses. Aalto is remarkable in that his clients are satisfied. The users of his designs praise his works. Far from assuming a great-man pose dictating a design from on high, he is first and foremost concerned with the human being that must occupy a hospital bed or climb stairs on crutches. He is concerned with door pulls that are awkward and scratch the hands, or the simple play of light, sound, or smell, the vista down a hall, or the landscape beyond. Aalto’s work falls into several classifications. As with most architects, he does many designs that remain in the project stage, but most have been constructed. Most of his projects are of a cultural or civic nature, but he has a keen interest in group housing. Paimio, near Turku, Finland, cited by Gideon as one of three institutional buildings linked to the rise of city architecture, is the competition prize that catapulted the young Aalto, then in practice with Erick Bryggman; into international fame. Located on a hilltop, the 290–patient main building is the center of a self-contained community in the midst of a forest. The six story wings, topped with a solarium, are a composition of cantilevered balconies. There is a purity of concrete form linked to such small but integral details as having three walls of each room being “hard” and one “soft”, with the walls painted of a soft indefinite tone and the ceiling a bit darker so as to be easier on the eyes of the bed-ridden patient, and the balance effected between natural and artificial lights in each patient area. The hand basin, for example, receives falling water at a slight angle to avoid undue splashing, and the door knobs are moulded to fit the hand more easily. The whole hospital is conceived for the physical needs of the patient and for the psychological effect of the environment. It is designed as an integral whole, to which each part is a necessary element. Even pine trees are planted in tubs along the balconies to soften the harsh lines. The Finn is appreciative of beauty in such minor details. In the New York Herald Tribune, June 30, 1960, Professor Aalto is quoted as saying, “I tell you, it is easier to build a grand opera or a city center than to build a personal house.” Indeed, the only other private residences he has designed are his own residence in Munkkiniemi and that of Monsieur Carre at Bazoches, France, near Paris. Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonpl Villa Mairea has the same milestone position in the works of Aalto as perhaps the Savoy House to Le Corbusier, the Barcelona Pavillon to Mies, or the Winslow House to Frank Lloyd Wright. He has been able to experiment with many innovations which were more fully developed in other projects, such as the undulating wall, design and manufacture of individual lamps and furniture, the subtle juxtaposition of materials, the “organic” identification with natural environment and site, and a spatial organization that gives a slight hint of what lies beyond. The overall effect is not a garish display of wealth, but a simple and rusticated country house for a wealthy woman of exceedingly cultivated taste, in which value materials are easily mixed with the most commonplace in a casually deceptive manner. This house is located near Noormarkku, Finland. This was the only design commission accepted by Aalto during the war years when he served as Professor of Experimental Architecture at M.I.T., in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Indicative of this milestone is that Aalto places the elevation drawing of the Baker Dorm on the wall beside his work desk. Aalto returned after this design to Finland and for several years his best efforts went into planning and reconstruction during a “lean period.” Large architectural commissions were not to follow for some years. The Baker Dormitory stands in contrast to the other massive stone, classic monuments of the university like a “brutalistic snake,” but its concept is simply to utilize to the maximum the view of the Charles River. The library and lounge areas are reminiscent of the Viipuri Library in the spatial arrangement, the stairs, and the overhead light wells. The stark and somewhat brutal placing of the main staircase, enclosed but placed outside the main face of the wall, was an innovation of this post-war period. It has been said that the detailing and craftsmanship on this building suffered from the relatively high labor costs in machine-directed America in contrast to his other projects in Finland, Scandinavia, or Europe. As in most of Aalto’s key commissions, this was a competition award for Jyväskylä, the city in south central Finland where Aalto studied as a boy. It consists of approximately ten buildings, or units of buildings, linked together. This complex consists of everything from residence dormitories to the auditorium. This is a “university-type” college not often found in Finland, and is U-shaped in campus plan. The placing of the various buildings is in a subtle relationship, often on a slight angle to each other, emphasizing the hieratic effects as one walks up and down, over, and around, in an approach carefully studied for its casualness and simplicity. The amphitheater consists of stone blocks, rough hewn, arranged in arcs, facing the high wall of solid brick of the main building (a wall broken at several points, creating interesting shadow lines vertically, and of carefully selected brick colors that vary the tone). The overall effect is of a university acropolis, higher than the city, overlooking the valley and the long lake that ends nearby. Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest Adjacent to the university grounds is the Aalto-designed Keski-Suomen Museo which was recently opened. “The Church of the Three Crosses” in the community of Vuoksenniska is one of several groupings in the planned city of “Imatra” on the border of the U.S.S.R. Aalto planned Imatra as an area that would grow together in a complex over the years. One community was invited to develop the principal building and “center.” This church would have other purposes than worship services on Sunday. This church was the first by Aalto after he completed the Säynätsalo Church, and it is the intermediate step before his Wolfsburg, Germany, Church Center which is now under construction. This Imatra Church is often cited as his finest ecclesiastical design, as Säynätsalo, and it is only fitting that this masterpiece be located in a Finnish village in the backwoods rather than in the hubbub of a larger city. Instead of designing assembly areas adjacent to the sanctuary, the indian body can be divided into three independent areas, each with its own natural and artificial lighting and outside entrances. Only the choir section, with room for 250 persons, is used permanently as a sanctuary. On important occasions, nearly 1,000 persons can be accommodated by opening the sliding walls. Among the significant details to be noted are the slender bell tower that is as straight as the surrounding pine trees, the manner in which the mortuary ramp into the basement is shown on the elevation, the contrast to relatively window-less east elevation with the large double-sash windows on the west, the custom design of fixtures, and lastly, acoustical design. Acoustical trials with light rays were attempted before the final an undulating ceiling pattern was adopted. Aalto’s growing prestige has been the cause of several recent commissions in Germany, including this “foldhaus” in the “Volkswagen City.” Now under construction, only a few drawings and model photographs have been released, but upon completion much publicity will appear. It occupies a position alongside the central square of the town, and its dominant characteristic is the fan- shaped arrangement on the second floor containing five lecture halls of the “people’s high school.” The library features light wells and a custom skylight appears over a common room. Much of the structure is based on a repetitive module, but then at the appropriate point, the line becomes broken and turns into this remarkable fan outline. The facade will be of marble and glass; a large model recently appeared at the exhibition of Finnish architecture in Stockholm. This long range plan for the Centrum takes us ten to fifteen years into the future and links to the past city plans of Engel, Saarinen, and Krokstrom for the “most blueprinted city in the world.” The complex problems of rail and auto traffic, parking, government office space, urban renewal, cultural facilities, city de-centralization are solved in the Keskus, finished by Aalto in March and presented to the Finnish government and to the City of Helsinki. Photographs and drawings appear in the August, 1961, CASA BELLA. Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Töölö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at Helsinki Center, based upon the Railway Terminal, Sokos, Parliament Building, and the post office, will be for business and culture, leaving the old city center on the waterfront untouched. Helsinki North will be a suburban commercial area in Pasila, 3 kilometres to the north. The Keskus unites the presently separated areas of Kallio and Tölöö, east and west, and the Olympic Stadium sports area, railway terminal, and business district, north and south. The anchor of the plan is the Mannerheim Monument and a large triple-deck plaza called “the central place” that cantilevers over the lake and conceals shopping and automobile parking areas. Aalto, the architect, will probably design only the opera house, post office annex, and one business building. From a plane flying from Helsinki to Jyväskylä, one can see the view of the 100-mile long Lake Päijänne, and at the lake’s end, in the sweep of an eye, the city of Aalto’s boyhood, the Teacher’s College on the hilltop, and not far away, the village of Säynätsalo at water’s edge, and Aalto’s summer home on the island. In a visit to Säynätsalo Town Hall, one can see “the touch of a Master in the forest.” It is unfortunate that architectural magazines have never done justice thus far to this project, perhaps because it is so far from Helsinki, though the Neuenschwander book devoted many pages to photographs, details, and plans. Seldom does one building seem to personify the life, aspirations, and talents of the master architect as much as this village civic center, the largest of six buildings Aalto proposed in his master plan for the area which is yet to be realized. As it stands alone, it has beauty. Once when a neon sign was erected that blocked the view, it was rumored that Aalto and friends staged a raiding party by night from nearby Murratsalo that destroyed the offending bit of commercialism. As in the Church of Imatra, Aalto has done his best work of its type in a small village in which he has become involved in the life and habits of the simple people who will use his design. Aalto has spent many vacations in sunny Italy, and come back inspired by the hill, piazzas of the small Italian towns. Säynätsalo is the first project in which he has used a raised mound as part of his design, thereby putting the courtyard on the “main” level, and relegating the business shops to the lower ground level where the bus stops. This design shows mastery of wood and stone, infinite care afforded to the smallest interior detail, and the overall integration of the design, within and without, to its environment. Aalto is quoted in TIME Magazine October 5, 1959, “I wanted to make it a town center, a building that would gather in people, so I put the garden inside, and then the inside is no longer neutral. I lifted the building up to make a vertical difference between the traffic in the street and the people meeting inside. The street is full of the gases from automobiles. We lift up the human being and put him in a better world.” How many wealthy American towns of 3,000 possess such a civic center with such careful planning and design? When first approaching the Town Hall through the pines, one is vaguely aware that this is a multilevel building of some complexity. There is obviously a row of commercial shops on the first level, owing to glass display windows, but curiosity is aroused as to the second floor of brick wall, punctuated by a continuous but varying fenestration covered with vertical stripes or blinds. Above and behind looms a curious box-like tower with a While many architects in the United States are clutching in the vacuum of leadership left by the death of Frank Lloyd Wright, few have thought to look outside our country. Instead they speak of Minoru Yamasaki, Edward D. Stone, Paul Rudolph and until recently of the late Eero Saarinen. However, a group of Scandinavians comes the closest in assuming the spirit of Wright because of their search for an honest expression in natural materials. Aalto is the foremost of this group of Finns, Norwegians and few Swedes. The rest of the world has gone mad with rational architecture of steel and glass boxes with endless repetitions of space cages, or they have gone to the other extreme by using silly chrome and tinsel twists and curves that are unrelated to the practical problems of the users. Why is this isolated Finnish architect, Alvar Aalto, a Master Architect? First, to understand Aalto, one must know the Finland he personifies, the national romantic movement from which he emerged, and the direction in which Finnish architecture is moving. His influence on the formation of “Scandinavian Modern”, its impact on the world of the early 30’s, and his continued leadership make him a Master Architect. The explanation for Aalto’s work can be found in his devotion to little Finland, his position as its most honored citizen, his assumed obligations during peace and war, and his past, present, and future projects, and the laboratory conditions under which he creates. It also explains why his greatest efforts are at home rather than overseas. As in the case of the other universalists, Aalto tries to be the total artist. To him, each problem demands a unique solution. He has no dogmatic philosophy to trap his freedom of movement. Aalto feels free to explore, and he finds his form of truth in Architecture. Because of the high esteem, the Finnish architect has power and freedom in dealing with his clients. They usually come with limited budgets and give the architect complete freedom to solve their problems and deal with the most practical solutions, and Aalto is a very practical man with details. He feels that no money should be spared on luxury items or mistakes in an economical society. If an architect wastes money, it is a scandal. Aalto refuses to lecture, write books, attend congresses, to self advertise or court publicity. Because of this privacy, he has the peace and solitude to concentrate on Architecture itself, not the fringe benefits. His vital energies and time are devoted to the “thing itself.” In Finland the creative artist, athlete, or intellectual, as in ancient Greece, is given a place of respect and honor. The militarist, business entrepreneur, or politician is not popular except during crises. For example, in Finland the Prime Minister calls upon Architect Aalto, not vice versa. In some respects the Finns treat Aalto as a living god, a position given in the past to Sibelius, Paavo Nurmi, and Marshal Mannerheim. Perhaps after Aalto, some of the designers such as Tapio Wirkkala, Ilmari Tapiovaara, or Timo Sarpaneva, or some Olympic hero in skiing will take his place. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Finland lies at the cross-roads of east and west historically and has come under a multitude of influences. Finland was under Swedish domination until 1809 when she surrendered to become a semi-autonomous Duchy of Russia. The Russians used dictatorial edicts to Russianize the Finns. They also brought Carl Ludwig Engel, the first of a series of foreign architects sent to Finland by the Russians, to plan the city of Helsinki. Earlier he had planned Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The third influence was German, inasmuch as Germany was the only principal power on the Baltic, excluding Russia and Sweden, with whom the newly independent nation could ally after 1917. Even until the German defeat during World War II, a German prince was considered as a possible Finnish monarch. This close influence was manifest in the number of Finns who attended German universities and who learned the German language. The two countries were also closely tied by trade contracts. With the outbreak of World War II, when Germany fought Russia through Finland and the Finnish soldiers were forced under the armistice to drive the Germans from Lapland, this exchange stopped. The fourth and current influence is Anglo-Saxon, American business and English culture. English replaced German as the third language, after Finnish and Swedish. Some say Finland has the oldest people and is the youngest nation of Europe, and America has the youngest people and the oldest government of the world. Not only does geography place Finland in an isolated position between east and west, but the Finnish people are solitary rather than gregarious by nature. The Finns, as the Hungarian and Baltic peoples, migrated out of Central Russia and found privacy in the northern forest and lake country. Since the language is one of the most difficult in the world, there are few translations of Finnish works and few foreign books are introduced from abroad. This isolation, the cross-neutralization of the four major foreign incluences, the geographical and sea barrier, the solitary nature of the people, and the language barrier have proved to be assets.Aalto’s output

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