Building for power

“This building is the boldest I have ever built in my life,” wrote Le Corbusier in 1961 to James Johnston, then director of the Guggenheim Museum, regarding his pavilion. A statement that not only testifies to self-confidence, but also articulates the aspiration for architecture that transcends its mere function. Buildings do not merely serve to organise life, but are also an expression of social power relations.

The architecturally refined Le Corbusier Pavilion could not be more perfectly suited to showcasing architecture of the highest order. Here, the close intertwining of space, form and power is brought to life.

The exhibition illustrates how political, economic and religious buildings symbolise power across a broad historical spectrum: this ranges from ancient pyramids, temples and basilicas, through triumphal arches, to modern commercial and parliamentary buildings. Le Corbusier himself forms the central focal point of the exhibition.

Following the partition of India in 1947, ‘Corbu’ was commissioned by the government to design the new capital, Chandigarh – a project with strong symbolic significance. The city was intended to embody both freedom and structure: clearly defined residential sectors, generous green spaces and, at its heart, the ‘Capitol Complex’, in which the executive, legislative and judicial branches each received their own buildings. Concrete, light and monumental design elements combine here to form an architectural manifesto.

Le Corbusier pursued a similar ambition with the ‘Plan Voisin’ in 1925. In it, he proposed demolishing large parts of central Paris and replacing them with modern high-rises and a strictly geometric street grid – a vision that was, however, never realised. At the same time, a walk through the exhibition reveals an ambivalent side to his work: Le Corbusier repeatedly sought proximity to centres of political power. He built for the Soviet Union or sought commissions in fascist Italy without maintaining a critical distance from their ideological orientation. All this illustrates the extent to which his architecture oscillates between utopia and political instrumentalisation.

Hugh Ferriss’s drawings offer a glimpse into the modern era. His visionary urban designs, inspired by New York’s building regulations of the 1920s, depict massive, stepped skyscrapers bathed in dramatic lighting. His deserted, geometrically dense visions appear like scenes from an architectural meditation on the future, order and verticality. Here, the price of progress is paid in social isolation.

With a touch of humour, a video installation seems to provide a deliberate counterpoint to the seriousness and gravity of the subject matter. An abstract lost-wax casting of the New York skyline – dominated by the Empire State Building, created by Kaspar Brändle – stands in front of a small screen showing an iconic scene from the film ‘King Kong’: the moment when the giant ape perches atop the skyscraper, fends off attacking military aircraft and rescues the protagonist, Ann Darrow. The idea that a giant ape can scale this architectural colossus acts as a counterpoint to materialised power, a point underscored by the cityscape, cast in soft contours and appearing almost to melt away.