Esprit Futur : Le Corbusier and José Oubrerie at Saint-Pierre De Firminy, Firminy-Vert, France, 1968–2006

What is the secret mesmerism that death possesses and under the operation of which a modern architect – strident, confident, resolute – becomes rueful, pessimistic, or melancholic?1 Five years before Le Corbusier’s death at sea in 1965, the architect reluctantly agreed to adopt the project for L’Église Saint-Pierre de Firminy in Firminy-Vert (1960–2006), following the death of its original architect, André Sive, from leukemia in 1958.2 Le Corbusier had already developed, in 1956, the plan for an enclave in the new “green” Firminy town, which included his youth and culture center and a stadium and swimming pool; the church and a “boîte à miracles” near the youth center were inserted into the plan in the ’60s. (Le Corbusier was also invited, in 1962, to produce another plan for three Unités d’Habitation outside Firminy-Vert.) The Saint-Pierre church should have been the zenith of the quartet (the largest urban concentration of works by Le Corbusier in Europe, and what the architect Henri Ciriani termed Le Corbusier’s “acropolis”3) but in the early course of the project, Le Corbusier would suffer the diocese’s serial objections to his vision for the church – not unlike the difficulties he experienced with Notre Dame du Haut at Ronchamp (1950–1954) and the resistance to his proposed monastery of Sainte-Marie de la Tourette (1957–1960). In 1964, the bishop of Saint-Étienne requested that Le Corbusier relocate the church to a new site, but Le Corbusier refused and the diocese subsequently withdrew from the project. (With neither the approval, funds, nor the participation of the bishop, by then the cardinal archbishop of Lyon, the first stone of the church was finally laid on the site in 1970.) Le Corbusier’s ambivalence toward the project, even prior to his quarrels with the bishop, reveals...

Architecture et révolution : Le Corbusier and the fascist revolution

In a letter to a close friend dated April 1922 Le Corbusier announced that he was to publish his first major book, Architecture et révolution, which would collect “a set ofarticles from L’EN.”1—L’Esprit nouveau, the revue jointly edited by him and painter Amédée Ozenfant, which ran from 1920 to 1925.2 A year later, Le Corbusier sketched a book cover design featuring “LE CORBUSIER - SAUGNIER,” the pseudonymic compound of Pierre Jeanneret and Ozenfant, above a square-framed single-point perspective of a square tunnel vanishing toward the horizon. Occupying the lower half of the frame was the book’s provisional title in large handwritten capital letters, ARCHITECTURE OU RÉVOLUTION, each word on a separate line, the “ou” a laconic inflection of Paul Laffitte’s proposed title, effected by Le Corbusier.3 Laffitte was one of two publishers Le Corbusier was courting between 1921 and 1922.4 An advertisement for the book, with the title finally settled upon, Vers une architecture, 5 was solicited for L’Esprit nouveau number 18. This was the original title conceived with Ozenfant, and had in fact already appeared in two earlier announcements.6 “Architecture ou révolution” was retained as the name of the book’s crucial and final chapter—the culmination of six chapters extracted from essays in L’Esprit nouveau. This chapter contained the most quoted passage in Vers une architecture, used by numerous scholars to adduce Le Corbusier’s political sentiment in 1923 to the extent of becoming axiomatic of his early political thought.7 Interestingly, it is the only chapter that was not published in L’Esprit nouveau, owing to a hiatus in the journal’s production from June 1922 to November 1923.8 An agitprop pamphlet was produced in 1922, after L’Esprit nouveau 11-12, advertising an imminent issue “Architecture ou révolution” with the famous warning: “the housing crisis will lead to the revolution. Worry about housing.”9

Permanent shift: the topology of Didier Vermeiren's Cariatide à la Pierre

Photographic documentation of sculpture produces significant consequences for the way in which sculptural space is conceived. When viewed as discrete mediums the interaction of the photograph and its sculptural subject is always framed by notions of loss. However, when taken as a composite system, the sculpture-photograph proposes a new ontology of space. In place of the fixity of medium, we can observe a topology at play: a theory drawn from mathematics in which space is understood not as a static field but in terms of properties of connectedness, movement and differentiation. Refracted through the photographic medium, sculpture becomes not a field of fixed points in space, but rather as a fluid set of relations - a continuous sequence of multiple ‘surfaces’, a network of shifting views. This paper will develop a topological account of studio practice through an examination of the work of the contemporary Belgian sculptor Didier Vermeiren (b. 1951). Since the 1980s, Vermeiren has made extensive use of photography in his sculptural practice. By analysing a series of iterations of his work Cariatide à la Pierre (1997-1998), this paper proposes that Vermeiren’s use of photography reveals patterns of connection that expand and complicate the language of sculpture, while also emphasising the broader topology of the artist’s practice as a network of ‘backward glances’ to previous works from the artist’s oeuvre and the art-historical canon. In this context, photography is not simply a method of documentation, but rather a means of revealing the intrinsic condition of sculpture as medium shaped by dynamic patterns of connection and change. In Vermeiren’s work the sculpture-photograph, has a composite identity that exceeds straightforward categories of medium. In their place, we can observe a practice based upon the complex interactions of objects whose ontology is always underpinned by a certain contingency. It is in this fundamental mobility, that the topology of Vermeiren’s practice can be said to rest.