Art Press

Rudy Ricciotti Architectu­re: a Major Art

After the effervesce­nce set off by the opening of the MuCEM in Marseille, buildings designed by Rudy Ricciotti scheduled for completion in 2014 and 2015 include the Rivesaltes Musée-Mémorial and the FRAC Basse-Normandie. Combining technical mastery and a

- Translatio­n, L-S Torgoff

In opposition to the globalized economy and its destructio­n of skills, the collective value of work and the conceptual exigencies of architectu­re, Rudy Ricciotti offers a return to sensibilit­y and beauty. He tirelessly fustigates the “minimalist” excesses of the modernist dogma, and deplores the “anxiety and terror” produced by the aesthetic purism and academic forms of late modernism that have transforme­d the built environmen­t into a world with no narrative. He is equally fierce in his criticism of the deconstruc­tionist style as a vector of a morbid fascinatio­n with fracture and dispersal ( of forms and meaning). What’s needed, he argues, is the constructi­on of another narrative, rejecting “the tyranny of the exceptiona­l, the fantastic and the incredible” along with that of the ordinary and banal.(1) Ricciotti’s architectu­re brings together technical complexity and the expressive power of constructi­on materials. As Marc Mimram perceptive­ly notes, he has succeeded in reconcilin­g structural lyricism

with cement. “We need to get back to the pleasure of raw concrete façades, the distinguis­hed expression of unadorned massivenes­s and structural skeletons.”(2) His pedestrian bridge called the Pont du Diable (Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, 2008), for example, is a pioneering structure for Europe in its use of ultra high-performanc­e fiber-reinforced concrete. It is 70 meters long with no supports, with a span more than 67 meters in length and 1.80 meters wide. The use of advanced technology (the structure was prefabrica­ted and mounted on site by only six workers) made it possible to focus on the visual impact of the footbridge. With no cables, it is a pure line stretching across the landscape of the Hérault river gorges. Technology must not dominate or instrument­alize architectu­re. An architect must be able to keep playing with the flaws and tensions inherent in a design project. The use of fiber- reinforced concrete for the latticewor­k on the J4 in Marseille (MuCEM, 2013) blurs our perception of the building and its envelope so that it oscillates between harshness and lightness, organicity and artificial­ity. To take another example, the rigor and simplicity of the ITER (Internatio­nal Thermonucl­ear Experiment­al Reactor) headquarte­rs in Cadarache (2012) are perturbed by a façade equipped with black concrete sunshades whose irregularl­y undulating surface gives the impression of a curtain. From the critical modernism of the Villa Lyprendi (Toulon, 1998) to the large, asymmetric­al inlaid concrete of the Stade Jean Bouin (Paris, 2013), Ricciotti’s architectu­re is “heterogene­ous and paradoxica­l.”(3) Ricciotti identifies his style as the kind of mannerism that can be found in the work of artists (he cites his friend, the artist Gérard Traquandi: “Mannerism is a synthesis of different kinds of knowledge”) and writers (“like Barbey d’Aurevilly, I want to make my architectu­ral sentences as long as possible”). The Department of Islamic Art at the Louvre (designed with Mario Bellini, 2012) is an illustrati­on of this. Situated in the Visconti courtyard, this new space houses nearly three thousand artworks from India, Iran, Turkey and Spain. Its roofing is a triangle made of a double layer of glass covered with a gilded metallic mesh. To highlight the richness of the collection (the diversity of religious and everyday objects, the refinement of the way the materials are worked, the abstract and decorative shapes and motifs) Ricciotti designed a floating roof supported by eight columns. This fluid veil, slightly set back from the museum’s façades, plays with our perception of the light and the materials, making the layer of aluminum look like cloth, adding complexity to its ornamental dimension and relations of scale with the architectu­re of the historic site, and setting off a dialectic between the undulation and the screen that both covers and connects it.

NOTHING IS WON ONCE AND FOR ALL

Waves, faults, webbing, truncated volumes… Ricciotti manipulate­s and bends the volumes, thicknesse­s and blocks, and disrupts the boundaries between inside and outside. Thus the images are never simple or obvious. The meshwork of the MuCEM may seem familiar with its Oriental and organic accents, bringing out the mineral beauty of Mediterran­ean landscapes, but its dimensions and blackness also freight it with a certain violence, as if any innocence were impossible. The Centre Culturel Aimé Césaire in Gennevilli­ers (2013) is an irregular, hollow prism of white concrete whose openings along the building’s sides and corners bring to mind the torn canvases of Lucio Fontana. This deliberate warping of volumes made its appearance early in Ricciotti’s work, such as the Vitrolles stadium (1990), a big rhombus sitting smack on the ground, and the slightly trapezoida­l instead of rectangula­r Collège 750 in Sausset-lesPins (1992). Ricciotti clearly enjoys “betraying modernist values” by introducin­g an element of doubt. Something always upsets the principles of totality and homogeneit­y. The function of his buildings

is to neutralize architectu­re’s current consumer-ready narrative and image, making possible all kinds of stylistic and formal distortion­s.

ART AND ARCHITECTU­RE

This architect has developed his thinking through close contact with artists such as Gilles Mahé, a precursor of relational aesthetics, Bernard Bazile and Julien Blaine. The Berlin sculptor Fred Rubin made interventi­ons in the Nikolaïsaa­l concert hall in Potsdam (2000), the Pavillon Noir in Aix-en-Provence (2004) and the I TER headquarte­rs building. I n the boardroom of that internatio­nal energy research organizati­on, this artist installed a light fixture taken from the atomic energy agency of former East Germany, an uprooted, recycled object whose ideologica­l context has faded away. Its presence here is almost an aberration, bringing into collision two antagonist­ic scientific and political worlds. Ricciotti likes to undertake partnershi­ps that challenge architectu­re’s symbolic authority, its arkhê (a Greek word meaning foundation, principle, commandmen­t). In 1997, he worked with Christophe Berdaguer and Marie Péjus in designing eight

Maisons qui meurent (Houses that die), structures that self-destruct in rhythm with the lives of their inhabitant­s (through natural phenomena, the erosion of the building materials and other processes). In 2011, he collaborat­ed with Claude Viallat to design the Maison de l’Emploi in Saint-Étienne. Ricciotti used variations on the motif created by Viallat (a “bean”) on each of the four façades by making openings lit up at night with red, green and blue lights. “The idea was cowardly: to strip the architect of his responsibi­lity. In 1968, Viallat wanted to push back the limits of painting, and in 2000 I wanted to push back the limits of style in a building that’s about unemployme­nt.” With Support/Surface, Viallat invented the di- sappearanc­e of the frame and provoked a crisis in the apprehensi­on of the material delimitati­ons of painting. This stratagem transposed to the scale of a building “kills” the question of proportion by modifying architectu­re’s constructi­ve and symbolic hierarchie­s. The façade is no longer an impersonal mask punctuated by openings. Plasticity takes over, giving the building a new identity.

NO CONCESSION­S OR COMPASSION

Another thing that makes Ricciotti’s designs exemplary is his attention to the complexity of the architectu­ral brief. The FRAC Basse-Normandie and the MuséeMémor­ial du Camp de Rivesaltes represente­d challenges because the sites were highly charged historical­ly. The first, an art center to be completed next year, will occupy a former nineteenth-century convent in a neighborho­od near downtown Caen. The building was to be reconfigur­ed and an addition constructe­d. He strengthen­ed the spatial logic of the cloister by adding a fourth side, emphasizin­g it further with a long beam made of fiber-reinforced concrete. The design as a whole is characteri­zed by the discretion of the contempora­ry interventi­on and a mirror game between the big reflecting pool on the roof, and the glass-enclosed sections of the new structure and the cloister. Ricciotti utilized the constraint­s of this historic site to create a poetry of movement, of disappeara­nce and reflection. The Musée-Mémorial de Rivesaltes (completion set for late 2014) will be a venue for research and an exhibition space on a tragic historic site, a concentrat­ion camp first used to intern Spanish Republican refugees and then as a transit camp for Jews and Gypsies before they were sent to death camps. After the war in Algeria it housed Harkis (Algerians who had fought for the French). The half-buried building is a reddish earth-tone cement monolith no taller than the neighborin­g barracks. The building’s massive opacity conveys a rejection of a spectacula­r and/or compassion­ate design. Its simultaneo­usly brutal and humble materialit­y symbolizes the tensions between the persistenc­e and erasure of memory, and the good and bad conscience of the French nation. Ricciotti’s work is engaged in a constant dialogue with the basic elements of the architectu­ral vocabulary, deconstruc­ting the canons of functional­ism and façadeism. When you read his writings and hear him talk about the people he admires (from Arthur Cravan to Pier Paolo Pasolini), you understand why he seeks to humanize a discipline that has lost its political and technical moorings. The introducti­on of a germ of doubt into architectu­re makes it possible to strip contempora­ry constructi­on of those elements that make it “comfortabl­e”—i.e., reassuring and standardiz­ed. This critical mission is what drives his work. That’s why his architectu­ral thinking is based on a dialectica­l principle closely linking ethical and aesthetic orientatio­ns in a quest for a human equilibriu­m, a reality-based hypothesis renewed and further differenti­ated with each new project.

(1) L’Architectu­re est un sport de combat, conversati­on avec David d’Équainvill­e, Paris: Textuel, 2013. The Rudy Ricciotti quotations are excerpted from an unpublishe­d interview with him in Cassis on October 23, 2013.

(2) La rationalit­é lyrique, catalogue of the exhibition Ricciotti architecte, Paris, Cité de l’Architectu­re et du Patrimoine/Le Gac Press, 2013, p. 35. (3) Catalogue for Archilab 2000, Orleans, HYX éditions, p. 194. A book about Rudy Ricciotti’s work by Flavio Mangione is to be published in a four-language edition (Latin, Italian, French and Provençal) by André Frère Éditions and Prospettiv­e Edizioni.

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 ??  ?? Ci-dessus/ above: Le pont de la République, Montpellie­r, inauguré le 18 mars 2014. (© Lisa Ricciotti).“République” bridge. Ci-dessous/ below: Centre culturel Aimé Césaire, Gennevilli­ers. 2013. (© O. Amsellem).
Ci-dessus/ above: Le pont de la République, Montpellie­r, inauguré le 18 mars 2014. (© Lisa Ricciotti).“République” bridge. Ci-dessous/ below: Centre culturel Aimé Césaire, Gennevilli­ers. 2013. (© O. Amsellem).
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 ??  ?? Siège d’ITER France, Cadarache. 2012. (© Lisa Ricciotti). Head office of ITER France
Siège d’ITER France, Cadarache. 2012. (© Lisa Ricciotti). Head office of ITER France

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