Villa Tugendhat in Brno is one of my absolute favorite structures. It still astonishes me to think that it was meant to be a family home, and that a family happily lived there for a time. Villa Tugendhat was a creative tour de force when it was built, nearly a hundred years ago, and continues to give off an absolutely "modern" aura despite its actual age. Be patient while I get around to the details, Padawans, this one is worth it.
Getting to the Villa was problematic. I left plenty of time to get from Hrad Perštejn, and I had even discussed in detail with my six passengers how we were going to be careful to follow the detour signs so as not to get caught behind an immovable force smack dab in the middle of our roadway.
But with signs like these to go on, we were SOL. Right through the middle of the road under construction again, and it took forever.
We made it, but just. It it was kind of a big deal that we actually get there on time: the Tugendhat tours are booked months in advance, with only 15 people allowed on each tour, and only three tours each day, and precious few of those in English. These tickets had been booked for three months. And while I had seen Tugendhat twice before (hi, Jane!), I was desperate to see it one more time before we left Europe. In part because I love it so very much, and in part because this was the first time Jeff was going to get to see it.
I had actually been dragged there the first time, by a dear friend of mine who is not a Philistine. She told me we were going to do a house tour in our (then) hometown, and I mumbled something like, "Is lunch part of the deal?" Because, hello! I am so not into the touring things.
But, man oh man, was I wrong about this one. I stepped into the living space of this house and fell in love. Not with the exact space, per se, and we'll get to what I mean by that when you see the photos, but with the way the house made me feel.
The house has a fascinating, sad history. It was orginally commissioned by the Tugendhat family to the famed American German architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. At the time of the design, in the late 1920s, Mies van der Rohe was still living and working in Germany. The Tugendhats gave him the housing site, which has beautiful views over the city of Brno and an unlimited budget. I haven't been able to find an estimate of the cost of the original construction, but I would assume it would be over the equivalent of $10M today. There is a lot of fascinating, high cost stuff in the house.
This is the view of the Villa from the street. It does not appear to have much going for it, does it? But, would you have pegged it as being nearly 100 years old?
"Brno, Černá Pole, Černopolní, vila Tugendhat (03)" by Harold - Own work. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons -
The house was designed in an outside-in style of living, and, in fact, the architect required that there be no artwork hanging on the walls, as he meant the windows to the exterior to be the art. Mies van der Rohe comes across as a bit of a petty tyrant when you hear how he expected people to live in his work of art, but I suppose this is the sort of thing that can come with genius? More on this topic tomorrow.
The Tugendhat's loved the house, and moved in by 1930. The Tugendhats, however, were Jewish, and so lived in the house for only 8 years before they were forced to flee Europe, and leave their beloved home behind. They were a wealthy family, and seemingly managed to make rather nice lives for themselves in South American and the United States, but the Villa became part of the Gestapo compound in Brno, and then when the Russians moved in, they used the main part of the house as a stables.
Turns out, the concept of "Philistine" is relative.
Post Russian occupation, the house because a hospital and physical rehabilitation center for children, and finally, in 1967, Greta Tugendhat (the original owner) returned to the villa with a senior architect from Mies's Chicago studio (Mies of course fled to the US during World War II where he set up shop in Chicago; he is widely regarded as one of the pioneering masters of Modern Architecture), explained the original design to him, and a group of Czech architects set out to repair it.
One of its more famous moments in history occurred on August 26, 1992 when Václav Klaus and Vladimír Mečiar, the political leaders of then Czechoslovakia met there to sign the document that divided the country into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Wiki
Here's a photo of the back side of the house. 1930, hard to imagine, isn't it?
Tomorrow: Inside, Although Really Inside Out
I don't usually like modern architecture but Mies van der Rohe is a genius. I was sitting in Chicago's Federal Plaza [http://tclf.org/landscapes/federal-plaza] writing down notes. I looked around. Big deal. Black boxy buildings. Lump of metal in the middle (Calder's Flamingo). After a few minutes I realized how peaceful I felt. The proportions? The space? The sightlines? No idea, but the design was brilliant.
Posted by: Rodneyssaga | September 01, 2014 at 07:07 PM
Was a genius, I guess. But lovely buildings.
Posted by: Rodneyssaga | September 01, 2014 at 07:08 PM
Agreed. The Villa is a stunning example of how a building can make you feel.
Posted by: Ellen | September 02, 2014 at 08:29 AM